Sharing Food

Still Tastes Good

2012-02-10T07:50:00.000-08:00

I thought I would get sick of this breakfast by now, but it still tastes good. The runny yolk goes better with rice than with bread in my opinion.

Variations on a Theme

2012-01-25T03:55:00.000-08:00

One of the reasons I wish I had another lifetime to work in a restaurant is that recipes and ideas are refined when you execute them repeatedly, learning their subtleties. This turned out to be a great combo: Momofuku's ginger scallion sauce, Six One Two 'Cue's pulled pork butt, two poached eggs, soy sauce, short grain rice.

The hardest thing to perfect, by far, is the rice.

A Plateau

2012-01-22T13:44:00.000-08:00

I've not been as able to lose weight for the last few weeks. It's a little frustrating. I think I'm letting myself have too many little treats or glasses of wine. Back at it.

Poached Egg Explosion

2012-01-07T07:11:00.000-08:00

I thought I had egg-poaching down. And then today when I slid the egg in it blew up. White cloud and yolk-splosion. Dangit. Still tasty.

Louise has been craving sushi this pregnancy, so I made some (she'll note it took me until the 7th month). Quick pickles, pork butt, grape tomatoes, scallions, blown up poached egg. A little kimlan aged soy made it great.

Breakfast

2012-01-05T15:17:00.001-08:00

Basically the same every day. If I ever start a restaurant it's going on the menu in some fashion. Like I said in an earlier post...

2 eggs
1/2c rice
Soy sauce
Any vegetable accompaniments

Add ons...

pork butt
brisket
scallions
ginger scallion sauce

A Good Crisis

2012-01-01T08:08:00.000-08:00

I believe it's a Rahm Emanuel quote - "never let a good crisis go to waste." This whole fall has been crazy - it certainly counts as a crisis. And I'm determined to not let this crisis go to waste.

I've spent the last decade on a self-guided, gluttonous food tour of the whole world. It's been fun. I've eaten the best the world has to offer - and lots of it. And I gained a ton of weight - on average less than half a pound per month, but that adds up.

So I'm eating healthy now.

Breakfast: 2 eggs, 1/2c rice.

Lunch and Dinner: 1 1/2 c short grain rice, 1 fillet of tilapia (or equivalent caloric amount of any protein), a bunch of kimchi, quick pickles, and as many steamed vegetables as I want.

And it's working. I lose about 1.5 pounds a week. Now I have to keep it up for about a year. I figure when I get bored with the Korean, I can map other flavors on to a similar quantity of food. We'll see!

It's horrible to think that you had a hand in causing a major health problem. Before the Lyme diagnosis I had a few terrifying weeks of thinking that I stroked out because of high blood pressure. Let's make it a good crisis.

New favorite breakfast

2011-12-19T05:48:00.001-08:00

My new favorite breakfast was inspired by my fascination with Amerikorean food and the piles of rice I had left over.

2 poached eggs
Cup of leftover short grain rice
Soy sauce
Sesame oil
Sriracha

It's great. I'm thinking of adding some sliced scallions, a little pulled pork, or brisket. But it doesn't need it. Bacon would be fine too I suppose. Maybe some tomatoes.

How to poach an egg

2011-08-16T17:29:00.000-07:00

It's always been one of my favorite foods: the poached egg. So simple, so luscious. Wispy whites, gooey dripping yolk. And I never had taken the time to figure out how to do it. Eggs would hit the water and explode into white, chaotic strings that I couldn't wrangle. But, luckily I have a brother who often reminds me that recipes exist, and I don't have to reinvent through experimentation every kitchen technique.

Poached eggs

Fill a 12 inch pan with water up to 1/2 inch from the lip
Add a few tablespoons of vinegar and a pinch of salt and bring to a rolling boil
Crack eggs into a small teacup with a handle and, one at a time, gently slide the lip of the cup into the water and let the egg slide out. Repeat with each egg
Cook for 4 minutes for a runny yellow center, (I like 4.5 minutes for a little gooeyer middle)
Remove eggs with a slotted spoon

That's it!

The Girls were Gone

2011-05-07T18:41:00.000-07:00

In late April, Louise, Norah and Ellie drove up to visit Betsy in Grand Marais for the weekend. So I went out and bought some bourbon, some beer, and a big gorgeous porterhouse from Seward.

Grilled asparagus: I melted butter and mixed in cracked pepper, salt and rosemary. Poured that over the asparagus and let it cool in the refrigerator, which I thought would help it stick - seems to have worked pretty well.
Porterhouse
Blue cheese riced potatoes

Rice Bowl, Korean-ish Fixings

2011-05-07T18:32:00.000-07:00

Stephen came over to hang out before playing a gig with Davina at The Dakota. I had some ground pork thawed and some left over kimchi. So we fired up the grill and put this all together.

Short grain rice
Kimchi
Shiitake Soy Pickles
Ginger Scallion Sauce
Grilled Coconut, Crab and Pork patties: we just mixed a can of crab meat in to a pound of pork with one egg, 1/3 cup coconut cream, some ginger and garlic, and some soy sauce.

Korean-Inspired Fried Rice

2011-05-07T16:11:00.000-07:00

I can't stop eating Korean inspired, Momofuku-ish stuff these days. I've made 3 heads of cabbage worth of Kimchi in the last month, and gone through 20 pounds or so of short grain rice. Today for lunch we had a little improvised fried rice.

1 pound ground pork
1 head napa cabbage
2 cups short grain rice
Fish Sauce - to taste
Soy Sauce - to taste
3T or so minced ginger
5 Garlic cloves
Sugar
Vegetable oil
A jar of chili flakes in oil with peanuts (I have no idea what this is - but I buy it all the time at United Noodle.
Kimchi
Soy pickled shiitakes
Any other vegetables laying around the fridge.

Cook rice the day before: place rice in a bowl and cover with water. Stir around, poor off water and continue to do this until the water is no longer white. Let rice drain. Put a little more than 2c water in a small heavy bottomed pot with a tight-fitting lid. Bring water to a boil and add rice, stirring once. Place lid back on pot, turn heat to low. Once steam starts escaping, turn off heat and let sit for 20 minutes. Remove lid, fluff rice, and put rice in refrigerator uncovered overnight.

Slice the cabbage in half lengthwise and cut it into 1/4 inch slices. Saute in a little oil (1T) until bright green. Splash with soy sauce and set aside.

In same pan, saute the ground pork. Once it's mostly cooked through, add the minced garlic and ginger. After a minute, add 1/4 cup fish sauce and 1/4 cup sugar or so. Mix this with the cabbage in a large bowl.

Add oil to coat the bottom of the pan. Fry the rice for 10 minutes or so on medium high heat. Add a heaping table spoon of the chili flake stuff, and a drizzle of soy sauce and fish sauce and stir to distribute evenly. Add the cabbage and pork mixture to the pan.

Serve with kimchi, shiitake pickles, ginger scallion sauce. Mmmmm...

Norah Helped

2011-05-07T15:55:00.000-07:00

Norah is a little over 6 months old, now, and very interested in solid foods, cups and spoons. We've been starting her on carrots, rice cereal, bananas, apple sauce, peas, squash and a few other veggies (one of the first non-milk tastes she had was a little nuac cham on a piece of carrot!).

This night I decided to let her help and play with the spoon and bowl. Fun, and messy.

Pork Chops and Grits

2010-05-21T21:08:00.000-07:00

I love having things like smoked pork jelly on hand. My birthday was a few weeks ago and I cooked ribs and pulled pork for people. Everyone brought something to share - from grapes to a Turkish dish that I'd never had before, the name of which I've forgotten, and that is based somehow in the story of Noah and Mt. Ararat. Confusing and tasty.

Anyways, I finished the pulled pork in the oven, and so had a roasting pan filled with fat and reduced smoked pork stock. I love that the stuff that I used to just toss or let Abby lick up can not only be used, but is, according to David Chang, "kitchen gold." When you have little stashes of stuff like that, making good fast food is so much easier.

And this dish was quick - maybe 35 minutes total kitchen time. Pan roasted boneless pork chops, leftover apple, jicama slaw, cheddar and corn grits, and smoked pork sauce (I put some chive flowers from the garden on top too). The pork sauce was a little of this and a little of that - soy sauce, water, vinegar, maple syrup and BBQ sauce.

Morels and Lamb

2010-05-08T16:56:00.000-07:00

Well it's been a strange spring so far - hail today, 85 last week - one of the warmest springs on record, with rain almost every weekend. The flowers are out, but seem kind of confused, and the morel reports are equally befuddled.

In the past I haven't looked very hard for morels down at the river, even though Mom keeps prodding me. This past Monday I was on the phone with Dad chatting about iPads and BBQ when I looked down at my feet and spotted a huge, blonde, brainy ... morel! It was hidden behind some poison ivy and buried in the grasses on a south-facing bluff in a sandy patch of sun. As I gloated to Dad while I walked I spotted 1, then 8 more black morels - phallic little flimsy things that, while not as sought after as their blonde cousins, are still tasty. So with Abby dripping wet and shivering in the back of Mazda I stopped off at Seward and picked up some fiddlehead ferns and lamb chops.

This dish is just a little celebration of spring.

Sautéed fiddleheads (a few of which I found in our garden)
Rehydrated cherries
Pan-roasted lamb chops
Sauteed morels
Smoked pork stock, mirin and soy sauce reduction pan-sauce

St. John

2010-04-02T04:10:00.001-07:00

My father-in-law has recently retired, and as a way to mark the occasion, decided that he would like to take the four of us on a vacation. His favorite place to be is on a beach, and his favorite beaches are on St. John, so I find myself overlooking Hawksnest Bay from our villa as a rain shower is just blowing off St. Thomas in the distance.

This is a truly magical island - two-thirds of which is national park - where you can pick your beach and swim out into the iridescent, aqua, 80 degree water, find a coral reef, and snorkel with rays, octopuses, turtles and all manner of fish. Every morning I wake up without an alarm (with the crowing of the ubiquitous roosters) around 6:15. I take a jeep down to whichever of the beaches seems most interesting, and swim for a half hour or so. Some days I get done and drive into town and have coffee and a breakfast sandwich cooked up for me by a sweet, dreadlocked nomad at the Mojo Cafe. Some days I head back to the villa where there's often a pot of coffee and bowl of fruit waiting.

The restaurants on the island are an interesting reflection of the clientele it seems to me: shacks with high flying menus (and price tags to match). When we have eaten out, it's always been nice - lobster, grilled mahi mahi, tuna tartar, coconut shrimp. And when we've eaten in it's been even nicer.

Saturday: Lime Inn Restaurant
Sunday: Grilled jerked mahi mahi with pineapple salsa, grilled broccoli and salad
Monday: NY Strips on the grill with mashed yuca, mushrooms and scallions
Tuesday: Grilled jerked grouper with rice cracker crusted, fried yuca cakes, orange and an orange vinaigrette
Wednesday: Shrimp scampi and fruit salad of mango, plum, frozen grape, pineapple and cilantro with poppy seed dressing
Thursday: Morgan's Mango Restaurant
Friday: grilled pineapple-stuffed chicken, baked potatoes, fruit salad
Saturday: bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin medallions, grilled potato medallions with roasted red pepper, broccoli smothered in Swiss cheese

Thursday afternoon, after I'd dove at the Rhone wreck all day, Louise and I drove out to Vie's Snack Shack - advertised as one of the only authentic local restaurants. It's way out on the east side of the island, and took 25 minutes of driving on the twisty little 1.5 lane two way roads. I ordered the conch fritters, and Louise got a Johnny cake. They were fine - both basically fried dough - hers had a little honey drizzle, and mine may have had a few tiny pieces of conch mixed in. The highlight was actually the little container of Scotch Bonnet hot sauce that was flavorful but not overly piquant.

We also stopped by a little BBQ shack in Cruz Bay for lunch on Monday. Aside from boiled-to-death corn, everything was as it should be - gooey, sweet and tangy bbq sauce with a hint of allspice. I wondered if they've ever thought of trying a little bit more jerk version: slow smoking instead of boiling the ribs with a little jerk rub. Bet it would be killer.

This has been a great trip so far - not done yet. It's hard to miss Easter at home with Mom and Dad, Stephen and Sarah, but at least we're spending it in the garden of Eden.

Hawksnest Bay and Villa

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Momofuku Recipes: Pork Buns

2010-02-25T15:59:00.000-08:00

This is one of the first complete recipes that I made from the Momofuku cookbook. Like a lot of the recipes in the cookbook it seems much easier to accomplish in the context of a restaurant. It's not that any individual component is tricky to pull off - they're not. In fact they're all pretty easy as far as technique goes. But they're the kinds of things that are meant to be made in relatively large quantities somewhat ahead of time, and then quickly assembled for service. I love this type of cooking - it's so much more thoughtful in terms of a guest's experience: no massive kitchen explosion while everyone is sitting at the table waiting, no need for the host to be in the kitchen for the whole night.

Figuring out how to host a meal was one of the last things that I learned (and am still learning). Like everyone, when I first started out I had no sense for how long a meal takes to make. No sense for how high the piles of dishes would be. No sense for mise en place. No sense for how tricky it is to juggle 3 or 4 pans on the stove and something in the oven. I also was cooking for me - not for the guests. And that was stupid. I was young and narcissistic, and I was trying to be an uber chef rather than make everyone feel welcome.

One time when I was living with my parents about 8 years ago (yes that was in my mid twenties), I wanted to cook a Mexican feast for everyone I knew. I decided to make like 5 different salsas, chiles rellenos (because they're Dad's favorite), tacos, something else, rice, beans, guacamole, some sort of dessert. For 10 or so people, many of whom did not know each other all that well. And everything I made had to have a vegetarian version as well as a dairy-free version. So I started cooking the morning of the dinner. Oops. In fact I probably started grocery shopping the morning of the dinner.

So by the time all the guests were arriving, even though the food was getting done, there was a huge mess all over the kitchen. None of the prep dishes were washed, there were piles of onion skins and chili pepper detritus, avocado pits, meat scraps, empty plastic bags, blenders, bowls, cutting boards and most of what used to be in the kitchen cupboards all over the kitchen. No space to plate or serve. People were having fun, I think, but I wasn't exactly sure because I hadn't had time to talk to anyone yet. Without the help of Louise and my parents, I would have been cleaning until 4 in the morning.

So now I shop 2-4 days ahead, only buying the fish and other fragile ingredients the day of. I make sauces and any other components that will keep a few days ahead. I make herb oils and put them in the frig. I plan which dishes to use, and figure out if I have enough. The day of I do all of the chopping and mise en place in the morning, storing all of the ingredients in little containers and jars (I particularly like the little 4oz Glad containers). All dishes that can be reheated for service I cook in the early afternoon. I clean all of the dishes as I cook so that none of them get all nasty and crusty and in need of soaking. I wipe down the workspace whenever it gets messy. I keep two big bowls next to the cutting board: 1 for compostables, and 1 for trash. I sharpen knives.

And I make sure that by the time people start showing up, all of the dishes are done, the table is set and there are appetizers and drinks out. Then I make myself sit down with people and talk, have a drink, and eat some food, before I get back in the kitchen.

As much as possible. I'm not as good at this as I would like, so there are still times when the kitchen chaos finds its way to wherever people are hanging out. But the kitchen explosions are smaller and more contained.

So anyhow, one of the things I like about dishes like these pork buns is that they force you to work ahead: you can't get pork belly ready unless you start a day or two before. And no one in their right mind would try to make the steamed buns the day of, in part because the recipe makes 50. The quick pickles have to be made the morning too, because they have to sit for a few hours.

So once it's time to serve these little Asian pork tacos from God, all you have to do is resteam the buns (6-8 minutes straight out of the freezer), and warm the slices of belly (3-5 minutes or so). All of that work over the past few days never percolates into the guests' minds.

Steamed Buns: these are basically wonderbread taco shells. They're faintly sweet and best if made with rendered pork fat (from the belly).

Pork Belly: basically this is slow-roasted, uncured bacon. And it's just as good as you probably guessed - and just as decadent.

Quick Pickles: basically salt / sugar cured Kirby cucumbers. They're bright and crunchy and punch through the richness of the belly and the sweetness of the buns.

Hoisin: store-bought.

Sriracha: store-bought

These are, by the way, worth the work. They're the perfect snacks for a Sunday afternoon football party. Or anytime, really. We've also made them with smoked, pulled BBQ pork, BBQ sauce and dill pickles. Or pulled pork that has a little hoisin and "kitchen gold" mixed in served with kimchi.

NY Strips Stuffed with Blue Cheese

2010-02-20T06:57:00.001-08:00

This is the second attempt at using meat glue to stuff a piece of meat. It seemed like a no-brainer. Whatever I like to have as a sauce on a steak goes inside the steak. This time blue cheese.

As I was slicing the $12, inch-thick strip into two thin little sad sort-of steaks I felt like I was betraying chefs and cows everywhere. And if I did it again next time I would only slice it enough to be able to get the cheese in there, but ah well.

The process was as simple as it was with the chicken - I pounded the steak a little flat (which, again, felt like sacrilege) and glued it back together. Into the fridge in plastic wrap and wait 24 hours. Seasoned it with salt and pepper, and fried it up.

It cooked up great - no cheese leaking out the sides. And then I cut into it. I expected the cheese to come oozing out as a delicious gooey sauce. Instead it looked like a disgusting, broken, discolored, meat-juicy mess. Tasted great - but there's got to be a better way. I wonder about making a cream sauce before hand, chilling it, and stuffing the steak with that. Or what about a red wine butter sauce that would pour out like tasty tasty blood. Mmm.

And the satisfaction of slicing through a thick steak was mostly gone too. Gotta say - the chicken version seems great; the steak version not so much. And maybe the greatest thing about steaks - the medium rare center - was gone. That's not an issue with chicken breasts.

So the solution?

1) Some sort of sauce that looks good when mixed with beef juice

2) Sous vide: that way the steak can be medium rare, melted through and charred.

Love on a plate

2010-02-14T09:33:00.000-08:00

Every Valentines Day Louise makes me breakfast. It's pretty fantastic. I wake up to the smell of coffee and sausage and fresh biscuits. Every year it's been the same thing, and it's one of my favorites: breakfast sandwiches.

She always goes to Whole Foods and gets their blueberry maple bulk sausage. The biscuits are from her grandmother's Betty Crocker's New Picture Cook Book from 1961. It's stuffed with handwritten recipes from generations of women on scraps of paper and in the margins. What a different era, when recipes were like secrets or treasure maps. The explosion of accessible information robs the world of mystery.

Before Louise and I were married we went on a road trip out to Portland, Oregon in large part so that I could harvest obsidian. I was obsessed with wilderness skills - carving long bows out of Osage, and knapping arrowheads. The previous summer while sitting around a campfire in NJ's pine barrens smoking cigarettes and getting my sandaled feet sliced up by flint shards I'd been given a hand-drawn map to Glass Butte - one of the largest obsidian deposits in the world. It's hard to find because everyone steals the road signs, and because it's in the middle of nowhere in the high desert of Oregon. And because this was before Google Earth / Maps.

I spent 2 days driving around dirt roads with my buddy Darin searching for this fabled flint-knapper's paradise. After consulting the scrap of map scribbled in the back of my leather-bound journal again and again, we were about to give up when we finally drove around a bend and there it was. A whole tent / tepee city nestled into the sage brush and red cedars. It was a mountain man rendezvous not a mile from where we'd been searching. People sat on buckets smashing their way through the obsidian they'd just picked up off the ground. Beautiful pumpkin, gray, rainbow, and tiger stripe obsidian shards laying in piles at the feet of bearded, grizzled men. Camp fires and buckskin.

That moment is still poignant in my memory in large part because of the amount of time we had to spend searching. The struggle sweetens the victory. But that's mostly gone now - at least with food and geography. The answers are just so easy to find - and while it's hard to argue against the democratization of information, I find myself melancholy that my kids will likely not be given a hand drawn map to Glass Butte and go on a 2000 mile quixotic quest; that the days of scribbling recipes in the margins of heirloom cookbooks are mostly gone.

But we've got heart-shaped breakfast sandwiches, meat glue and a thousand recipes for biscuits - none of which is better than grandma's.

Louise's Birthday (from January 29)

2010-02-14T08:35:00.000-08:00

I usually get up quite a bit earlier than Louise, and depending on the day have often left the house by the time she's out of bed. On her birthday I get up early and make her breakfast.

The trick is that she likes to sleep in on her birthday, and so whatever I make either has to last for a long time sitting out, or be really easy to reheat. So this year I decided on an apple-cheddar coffee cake with sweetened pecans, and bacon wrapped dates. I piped a little maple whipped cream next to the coffee cake, sprinkled some honey crisp apple dice, and shaved some roasted pecans over the dates with the micro plane.

The Chicken Lucy

2010-02-12T21:25:00.000-08:00

This is one of the first experiments with the newest addition to my kitchen: meat glue. I found out about meat glue from the Momofuku cook book. It's basically the enzyme transglutaminase. Apparently it is that which allows deli meats to be frankesteinian assemblies of multiple cuts of meat that don't fall apart when sliced, and has been used in industrial food for decades. Only recently has it made its way into the restaurant world where it helped put wd-50 on the map with their fabled shrimp noodles.

Basically, it's just a powdered enzyme which, when sprinkled onto raw meat (or whenever it comes into contact with gelatin), and allowed to rest, forms a bond that does not break down under heat. So in practice it allows you to throw away kitchen twine and toothpicks if you plan 24 hours ahead.

This is the second experiment with the stuff (the first was a deconstructed meatball that I'll write about or add later - if I get to it). I'd just gone to Matt's for lunch when it struck me that the famous Minneapolis burger, the Juicy Lucy might be the conceptual basis for a meat glue application: rather than being limited to ground meats, I could stuff chicken breasts or steaks with sauces or cheese or whatever so that when you cut into them the stuff would ooze out like a lava cake. So I stuffed chicken breasts with Camembert.

And what do you know - it worked like a charm. The breasts fried up just like normal, and as they cooked the faint line from splitting disappeared. One of the three breasts I stuffed leaked a little which isn't a problem with the idea, just the execution. Basically I stuffed that breast too full, and didn't leave enough of an edge on the breast to form a good seal.

I did learn a few lessons while assembling these:

Lay the breasts presentation side down when splitting them. This allows you to watch that you don't slice through the weaker underside
Pound out the presentation side of the breast until it is an inch or so wider than the bottom half. Leave the weaker, bottom half alone, or pound it out only slightly. If flattened much more it will likely break, leaving holes for the stuffing to leak through.

One nice thing about this application is it's not overly gimmicky. It doesn't seem like food driven by technique or ingredients as much as it might. I also like it because you really can't tell from the outside that the meat has been split. A new Minneapolis sandwich shop may have just been born.

Next up for meat glue: blue cheese and caremelized onion stuffed, pepper-crusted NY Strips. Damn.

Momofuku Recipes: Ginger Scallion Sauce

2010-02-11T16:11:00.000-08:00

So I haven't been posting very often recently - goes that way sometimes I guess. Recently I've been making a bunch of recipes from the Momofuku cook book. What a great book. Meehan and Chang's blunt, poignant writing is the perfect compliment to the bold food. I think I've read it cover to cover 2 or 3 times in the last month.

One of the first recipes I made is among the simplest: Ginger Scallion Sauce. Sauce? I guess. It's more of a salsa-ish consistency. Simple, bold flavors - like the book says, it's one of those recipes that has tons of applications. I've used it so far to make a simple fried rice (with some scraps from the pork belly - fantastic), and served it with pan-roasted chicken breasts.

I've got so many other things to write about - who knows when that'll happen. Meat glue, ramen stock, spherification, foams and powders. And eating sardines out of the can with tabasco and crackers. Best snack ever.

Making Lefse with Mom

2010-01-05T16:13:00.001-08:00

A few weeks ago Mom made lefse. It's a yearly tradition that infuses my earliest memories of the Christmas season. Warm butter and sugar - white sugar - rolled up while the lefse is still warm. Steaming piles of round, flat Scandinavian tortillas greeting the guests who flowed in through our doors. I can still see my grandparents rolling and biting into this peasant comfort food that stands tall and proud next to all of the world's great flat breads.

We ate lefse multiple times throughout the season, but always when Dad's whole congregation came over to our small Madison, WI home. Mom spent weeks preparing for our annual Christmas open house. In fact, the event is such a fixture in my memory that it's a proper noun - Open House. That's what we called it. She would clear out the refrigerator of all but the essentials, and empty the freezer so as to accommodate all of the cookies, confections and snacks. There are too many to list, but my favorites were always the peanut cookies with the Hershey's Kisses in the middle, the frosted sugar cookies, peanut brittle, chex mix and, of course, lefse.

Fresh lefse is best - still warm, pillowy soft, crunchy from the texture of the sugar grains, and smelling faintly of potatoes. It's important to make lefse with a fairly high proportion of potatoes in order to keep it light. Basically think of it like gnocchi - the less flour and the less kneading, the softer the lefse will be. Some people make thick, rustic lefse with lots of flour - not Mom. Mom's lefse is incredibly tender and light, and even once reheated retains its moist, toothsome chew. Other lefse, like store-bought, can be dry and grainy. I suppose, like most tortillas, Mom's are always best. And like most tortillas, lefse should be reheated gently if not used right away. While I clearly like to cook now, I have to admit that Stephen always helped when we were young while I just waited like a vulture, butter knife and sugar jar at the ready.

When I heard that Mom and Stephen were going to be making lefse a few weeks ago, I grabbed the camera and headed up as fast as I could to try and film the whole process. I got most of it, though they had already boiled and riced the potatoes and added a few of the ingredients to the dough.

Mac and Cheese and Mama Digdowns

2009-10-24T22:33:00.000-07:00

Tonight we went to hear Stephen's band - Mama Digdowns - at the Nomad. They're based out of our home town, Madison, WI.

Of course the music is great - if you've not heard New Orleans Brass Bands, you have no idea. It's a music that highlights the gritty reality of life and celebrates the intersection of joy and tragedy. The tenderness is masked by the party: funerals seem very much like weddings. And why shouldn't they. We love and die together.

At their shows the band often serves food. Free food. For everyone there. Sometimes it's Jumbalaya; sometimes it's Red Beans and Rice; sometimes it's BBQ. Tonight they served mac and cheese - what better comfort food on a cold fall evening in MN. Huge steamer trays of it covered in shredded cheese, croutons and hot sauce. While people ate they gave away 30 of their new CDs.

Food is one part of this celebration. Music is, of course, right up in there. Dance, which Louise loves and I tolerate, is unavoidable when the beat kicks in. We come together and have some fun. It's nice to go out. It's nice to wander into the basement of the Nomad and talk to a guy randomly who I double-billed a show with in high school. It's nice to watch friends utilize their talents - place their 20 hours of practicing a week on display. Celebrating everyone's specialties and loves makes me feel grounded in life.

I love food - but I have loved other arts. I have painted. I have played the tenor sax. I have built bows and knapped flint. I have written stories and sewed a cross-stitched humming bird. I've danced the tango and written love songs.

But there's something about sharing a meal - especially at an event like tonight. Drink. Eat. Listen. Be together. It's already over.

Pop Burger and Jim from the Office

2009-10-10T19:05:00.001-07:00

I'm a Midwesterner and still haven't gotten over the occasional brush with fame. After walking down the High Line in NY a few weeks ago we randomly stopped in at Pop Burger for a bite. It's basically a slightly nicer version of White Castle. As we were eating our little sliders, we looked over and there was Jim from The Office. Scruffy and tall. Last night I watched the wedding episode (which referenced the dance that friends of a friend did at their MN wedding). Anyhow, the burgers were good, but eclipsed to a degree by my adolescent giddiness at this sighting.

The next day we sat around listening to our very NY friend talking about her SAG card and how Ethan Hawke tried to get her in bed while she was window dressing on a movie he directed. I told my story afterwards and everyone was very kind and told me how neat it was.

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Butternut and Walnut Puree, Pork and Asparagus

2009-10-10T17:43:00.000-07:00

Last weekend Louise and I spent 4 days with her parents and aunt and uncle out in Bachelor Gulch. It was a weekend of beauty, luxury, good company, and good food. We hiked along the mountain trails and admired the aspen's fiery gold; we made meals together and ate at the very nice Sweet Basil in Vail Village; we drank napa cabs and martinis; we lounged in the hot tubs while the first big fluffy snow flakes fell all around.

I was able to contribute to the weekend one night by making a meal. To usher in the fall I went for some classics of the season - squash, pork and apples (and made a seasonal concession to my wife who loves asparagus).

Maple cider sauce: Reduce a cup or two of white wine with a little apple cider vinegar until thickened a bit. Add maple syrup to taste. Incorporate cold pats of butter, stirring constantly, until sauce is desired thickness.

Pork: cut off the small ends of the tenderloin and trim any thick silver skin. Salt and pepper (and add cinnamon, cloves, allspice, or nutmeg) the pork. Pan roast in a bit of butter and oil rotating to brown all sides over medium high heat for 20-25 minutes or so. Let pork rest.

Butternut Squash and Walnut Puree: Peel and remove seeds from squash. Reserve half or a little less of the thick stem portion. Roughly dice the rest of the squash. Simmer in water until very tender. Puree with a cup of walnuts in a blender adding simmering water as necessary to make a thick puree. Add cream to reach desired thickness. Add salt to taste. Optional: truffle oil.

Butternut squash: Dice reserved stem into very precise 1/4 inch pieces. Saute in butter, add salt, pepper and maple syrup once browned.

Asparagus: pan roast in a bit of butter, adding a little white wine, salt, pepper and rosemary. Add chopped prosciutto. Serve when just cooked through.

Bachelor Gulch Hot Tub in the Snow:

you may have to download "silverlite" - a small Microsoft plugg-in - to view

The Lucky Peach: Momofuku's Ssam and Milk Bars

2009-10-10T16:45:00.001-07:00

I've been reading about Momofuku for a few years now, dreaming of their pork buns and penchant for creating unique blends of Korean and southern food - or anything else David Chang conjures up. So when we got the invitation to my good friend's wedding in Brooklyn, I made sure we arranged enough time before things got going to head over to the East Village.

We had to get up at 4am to make our plane, and then got in to Brooklyn after a train ride by noon. I was almost too tired to go, but Louise gave me a little pep talk. We took the train over and walked the two blocks to Ssam. It's a little corner place, black awnings and an almost conspicuous lack of any signs. But for the little characteristic peach logo in the window (and google maps) we might've missed it.

I was expecting a long wait or to simply get turned away - but at 2pm on a Thursday, while the restaurant was almost full, we walked right in and got a table. The place is relatively small, and a little more real than I thought it would be - which is not a bad thing. It's sparse with a long bar and a few tables (maybe 10). The staff is appropriately eclectic and professional - I was parched and they discreetly filled my water glass approximately 8 times without becoming nuisances.

We were tempted to order the fixed menu ($25 each) but ended up ordering ala carte. I got a celery soda - interesting. I liked it fine, but would've preferred it to be a little less sweet. We ordered their famous pork buns, the beef tendons, the cured hamachi and crisp rice with Asian sausage.

We started with the cured hamachi. It came on an edamame wasabi puree. Edamame were sprinkled around and there was something like dried wakame and crunchy rice balls as well as pea shoots. It was delicious - melt-in-the-mouth fatty fish. The accompaniments were mild enough to let the fish really sing.

Next came the pork buns, which were decadent. They were dripping and succulent with nice little quick-pickled vegetables. The recommended sriracha cut through the fat and really made them pop.

I've never ordered beef tendon before, but figured that if anywhere knew how to make it well, Ssam would. They were really good - finely shaved, they were a little like eating cellophane noodles that melt in the mouth.

Finally we got some sort of crisp rice balls with sausage because the waiter recommended it. It was, also, excellent. And I swear that it was a subtle and cheeky Asian interpretation of tator tot hot dish. The crisp rice cakes were the same size and shape as tator tots, the sausage played the same role with different spices, and the sliced broccoli was a perfect stand-in for the more common green beans. It was saucy, but rather than cream there was a sort of red, chili sauce.

After the meal we walked over to the milk bar next door. This is basically their bakery. We got a few "compost" cookies and some of the ice creams. Louise got the cereal milk flavor, and I tried the cucumber and lime. Louise's order was in part intended to be a nod to my mother who often jokingly admonishes her for not drinking the milk from her cereal bowl. It really does taste like cereal milk, but I think is simply ice cream flavored with the malt extract used in home brew kits.

Momofuku was exactly what I thought it would be: creative, interesting and delicious. The next challenge is getting one of those elusive Ko reservations...

Momofuku Ssam:

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Hen of the Woods / Maitake / Grifola Frondosa

2009-09-17T16:05:00.000-07:00

On our way back from a wedding we stopped in at my folks house to pick up Abby. I glanced at the counter in their kitchen and saw a small frond of what looked like the pictures of hen of the woods I'd seen. Mom had found it in Reservoir Woods at the base of an oak tree. (On a side note, reservoir woods was used as a location on the Coen brother's new movie). She'd only taken a small sample, and told me that the whole mushroom was huge. Even though it was dark I got directions and went out to harvest it.

The pieces I brought back comprised perhaps a third of the mushroom, and must have weighed at least 4 pounds. It was a beautiful sight, nestled at the base of the tree - gray fronds spilling out all over each other like a freeze frame of an exploding cartoon glue bottle.

On Wednesdays three college buddies and I meet up for dinner, and so this past week they came over for some steaks, garden fresh tomato basil salad and the Maitake. We picked the cherry tomatoes, and I grabbed some Hill and Vale NY strips at Seward.

While at Seward I was reaching for a pack of soda water and I knocked a big glass bottle off the shelf and it spilled juice and green glass shards everywhere. Awesome.

By the time the mess was cleaned up and I got home Louise and her coworker Jenn decided they wanted in on dinner, so I quick thawed a bone-in sirloin from Grass Run Farms.

Hen of the Woods Mushrooms: Peel off the fronds in bite size pieces. Discard any woody stems, discolored parts and forest debris. Saute in a liberal amount of butter until starting to brown. Toss around. Add some water to the pan and allow to steam off. Add a little more butter, salt and pepper and cook until the mushrooms have lost a bit of their volume and are getting pretty brown.

Some people prefer to cook these mushrooms much more gently, and I can understand that too - we had them more daintily prepared, mixed in to a very mild, creamy sauce and served with corn and gnocchi at Craftsmen.

Meat and Potatoes, another version

2009-09-14T19:05:00.000-07:00

I had a night to myself and decided that I wanted a treat. Grass Run Farm Sirloin with smashed baby yukon Gold potatoes, Grass Run Farms uncured, peppered bacon, local aged cheddar, chives and rosemary. Mmm.

Smashed Potatoes: Boil 2.5c baby potatoes until fork tender. Cook 4 pieces bacon over medium heat. Reserve. Drain all but 2 T fat from pan. Drain and add potatoes to bacon pan. Smash with a spatula and brown on both sides. Salt and pepper. Garnish potatoes with smashed up aged cheddar and rosemary and chives.

Steak: salt and pepper a big old slab of bone-in grown-right primo sirloin (or any steak) and put it close to a hot fire for a while (if 1 inch thick, 6-8 minutes / side or so). Rest 10 minutes, and garnish with rosemary and chives.

An attempt at spherification

2009-09-14T18:40:00.000-07:00

After a long-distance love affair with molecular gastronomy I decided to finally take the leap and give it a try.

For those not familiar this is one of the front lines of food for the last decade or so. It generally references Deconstructionist cuisine, not Baudrillard, but the foodie version, and means that ingredients have been separated from one another, and reassembled in combinations or situations that are new or interesting.

For me it also brings up memories of Dad's illness and his food in the bags, in the bottles, dripping in to his body. Like the rumors of restaurants that serve your drink to you by injecting it into an IV.

Cooking is an art near and dear to our hearts. This is grandma and her chicken soup - bones with a little cartilage boiled in tap water with a stalk or two of celery, a few carrots and some salt and pepper. This is Mom's grilled cheese and the weekly gatherings at the kitchen table where we crowd together and sing grace while the griddle keeps the sandwiches warm (the same griddle that cooks the lefsa at Christmas). This is breaking bread, this is the loaves and the fishes; this is wakes and weddings, seder and the forth of July BBQ.

Dinner is passing. Fleeting. Necessary. Dinner is social and deals in people and memories. Even when we dabble in fine cuisine it seems to me a social act: while I have gazed at paintings by myself in the quiet business of museums, I seldom sit down to a fine meal without friends. I crave company and I crave an experience that at least echoes some of my deepest sensory memories and comforts.

So I love the idea of Alinea's fall leaf-smoke dish in which the diner is given an overturned bowl (or "pillow") that, when removed, looses a brief cloud of leaf-smoke at the table and reveals the dish. But these things are risky, and rarely done right.

I'm no expert: I've not eaten at El Bulli or Alinea or any of the other restaurants that push this boundary. But I do know that I'm nervous about this type of cooking. So I hesitated to try it, and am still not entirely sure how I'll try to incorporate it into meals.

For my first attempt I made tomato water "caviar" by following various recipes online and blending them. The basic process is simple: put a chemical in one solution, put a different chemical in the other. Drop the first into the second and let them form a thin skin where they contact. And there you have it: spherification.

These things are not difficult to accomplish. The trick is not in the science; the trick is to incorporate this type of food into a dish without seeming like a pedantic uber-chef who is ignoring tradition. I'm still working on that (and I haven't served these little baubles just yet).

Here's the recipe I used - it's a mish-mash of other recipes and is likely off in terms of quantity because I didn't have a digital scale and so I just made due with online converters.

Edibles:

.4 t sodium alginate

2c liquid

Bath:

1.5 t calcium chloride

4c water

Rinse after the liquid has solidified. I ordered my chemicals from L'Epicerie

Wild rice and a variety of wild boletes

2009-09-10T18:30:00.000-07:00

I tend to be a fairly - how would Louise put it - obsessive person. If I get the bug, I get the bug. So I harvested wild rice for the first time on a Saturday, and Monday night when we got back to the Twin Cities, I had to try to process it even though it was First Day of School Eve, and I am a high school English teacher.

So I parched a handful of the stuff in a cast iron pan. It started to pop like popcorn, so I stopped. I let it cool and proceeded to toss it up and down in front of one of our fans on the deck. I was both impressed by the degree of refinement it would take to make the process efficient, and confident that this level of refinement was not out of reach: after 15 minutes I had enough processed rice to cook a little pot.

As the rice cooked I sauteed the boletes that we collected over the weekend in a little butter. Once the rice was finished I sprinkled the mushrooms over the little pile. Seriously. No food is as good as food that we work for - that we spend an afternoon with best friends collecting - that we husk kernel by kernel, and then cook simply. And that we share. After Louise and I had a few bites I drove the rest over to S's house so he could taste it.

Processing Wild Rice - a first attempt

2009-09-10T17:46:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago my brother and I finally planned a day to try to process wild rice. He came over around 10am and we got to it.

We had watched a couple videos on how to process wild rice on YouTube. They seemed pretty good. Apparently the general technique is pretty straight-forward:

Harvest the rice
Dry the rice for a while (some people recommend allowing the rice to ferment by wetting it periodically at this stage. We did not do this)
Parch the rice (toast it)
Thrash the rice
Winnow the rice

Seems simple, right? Or not. At least it seemed do-able. And it was / is. But like anything it takes a bit of finesse - some of which we acquired (much of which we did not) during our first attempt. I'll describe the stages in order and any lessons we learned.

Harvesting: we used a canoe, lined with plastic. We carried little quickly-harvested misshapen sticks. I tried to paddle us through the rice paddies.

Lesson 1: Use a pole, not a paddle. Paddles are non-functional and wreck the rice by ripping up the roots. If you are at all interested in doing this you should get a 15-20 foot cedar or balsam pole (with a natural fork in the thing end) in the spring during the sap run. Peel it, dry it and sand it.
Lesson 2: be prepared for an itchy, bug filled day. The rice itself seems to be (at least to me) somewhat itchy. And it's totally covered in 3 insects: white inch worms, rusty moths and pale spiders. During the harvesting the boat was positively crawling with these bugs. So much so that my brother and I believe that the local Anishinabe must have a specific term for each.
Lesson 3: Either get there right away or find small lake shores that others have ignored. In our experience we found the best rice in places that others had clearly thought less-than-worthy. We found an oasis the size of a couple foot ball fields filled with rice plants that were completely stripped bare - and just a lake away there were thick rice fields on the sides of the smaller ponds.

Drying the rice:

Lesson 1: Bees are awesome. As soon as we put the rice on the tarp a swarm of yellow jackets descended on the rice. I couldn't figure out what they were doing. Then I watched as one tried to take off like an overloaded helicopter. It was carrying an inch worm that was as big as the bee. Sweet. They continued to feast on the squirmy little buggers for days.
Lesson 2: If you dry it, they will come. After 4 days of the rice being on my patio drying, I went out to check on it. As I approached it I saw a mouse scurry away. Once close to it I picked up the corner of the tarp on which it was resting and a veritable herd of mice began scrambling and squeaking as they tried to escape the giant that had disturbed their feast. Not cool. Either dry it in a secure location, become OK with sharing your rice with mice, process it sooner after the harvest, or buy a cat.
Unkowns: I still have no idea how long is long enough or how long is too long.

Parching the rice:

Lesson 1: My, what a big rice pot you have. After a full 8 hours of sitting around a fire parching wild rice it became painfully obvious that - while we have a ridiculously, almost clownishly big cast-iron dutch-oven - it would have been nice to have something 4 times as big. This stage of the process seems to be a bottle-neck: the bigger the pot, the faster you parch all the rice.
Lesson 2: Goldilocks. As with all things, the trick is balance: too hot and you get popped-rice, which, while not bad, is not ideal; too cool and you sit around a pot for days and days
Lesson 3: Snap, Crackle, Pop. After approximately 30 minutes of parching a batch it seems, from what I can gather from other sources, that the rice should begin to pop pretty frequently. If it happens earlier your fire is too hot; later and your fire is too cool. Once the rice begins to pop vigorously (relative term, I know), it's done.

Thrashing the rice:

Lesson 1: Leather and duct tape. The rice is sharp. While you stomp on it it gets everywhere. The native, modern wisdom references moccasins that have been wrapped with a layer of duct tape to keep the rice from getting in. Not only is the leather strong enough to protect the feet, it also has enough texture to grind the rice without allowing simply to slip all over the place
Lesson 2: Economies of scale. This process seems to be only slightly less efficient given equal effort as quantity increases.
Lesson 3: Flat-bottom tote. Placing the rice in a tote is a nice modern adaptation. That said, totes with ridges make the job harder. Find a tote or container that is flat on the bottom
Lesson 4: Texture. If the container allows the rice to slip around on the bottom, you will be less able to grind your feet around, and therefore less able to remove the husks. Next time we do this I'm going to line a tote with a heavy blanket and see if that helps.
Lesson 5: Hold on. Place the tote or container in front of a tree, a wall, or underneath a branch onto which you can hold. This not only gives you better balance, but allows you to place slightly less weight on the rice (especially important if you, like my brother and I, are not the most petite rice thrashers).

Winnowing the rice:

Lesson 1: Bigger, again, is better. Small containers lose rice. Period. You need something large, preferably with a low, mildly sloping lip. Basically look at all the designs of winnowing baskets that appear in photos of Native Americans winnowing and copy them. They are designed that way for a reason.
Lesson 2: Fans are nice. If you get frustrated with tossing the rice up in the wind, it seems like it is also effective to simply drop the rice in front of a fan, placing a receptacle wherever it seems as though the grains and not the hulls are falling
Lesson 3: Do it again. It seems like we're still lacking a little calibration, because even though the process worked pretty well, we had to repeat the thrashing and winnowing process over and over with the same batch of rice in order to get down to next-to-no hulls. This is clearly the measure of the success of one's technique; ours needs refining.

It was mesmerizing. Hypnotic. All the repetitive motions, sounds and sights. A meditation. At the end I was sweaty, itchy and tired. But we had huge bowls of rice and a new found appreciation for the depth of connection to the food staples that have nurtured human kind for thousands of years.

If by any chance, someone with more knowledge of this process happens to read this, please leave a comment with any corrections or additions. Thanks.

An Unbearable Explosion of Life and Richness

2009-09-09T20:10:00.001-07:00

(This post is the follow up to the earlier post, Ice Chips)

It's been a little more than two months since I got the call that my father, who has been battling cancer for a few years, would need surgery. In California. Summer has come and gone; our garden is again the tangled mess that it has been every August for the past 3 years. My father holds on to this life with a quiet tenacity and grace.

He puts the finishing touches on the cabin, his legacy, whenever he is there. The loft is done - the steps finished. On the shelf behind the fireplace sit nick-knacks and memories. He lays on the couch after working; resting, and waiting for the nausea to subside.

We spend time at the cabin whenever we can - the 6 of us. That seems to be the extent of our acknowledgement of the cancer: do what we have always done, just do it a little more often.

And so at the end of summer I'm reminded of June, when the days were slow and recovery from surgery seemed so distant, if inevitably temporary. We gather around the table, sharing food. Celebrating the abundance of life - the mushrooms that explode around the cabin, the fish, the berries, the family gatherings, the endless procession of days. As though in defiance my father often start meals by leading us in singing Johnny Appleseed.

Oh the Lord is good to me. And so I thank the lord, for giving me the things I need: the sun and the rain and the Appleseed. The Lord is good to me. Amen.

And we enjoy summer tomatoes grown by my brother and his Fiance. I dream about the simple open-faced sandwich I had at their house a few weeks ago - a slice of tomato on a toasted baguette with mayonnaise and salt. I've cooked for days without even approaching that level of perfection. Time passes.

A plate of food is made, eaten, and fades into memory.

Wild Rice Harvesting

2009-09-09T17:08:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I convinced my brother to come fishing with my cousin A and I. A is a voracious, passionate fisherman - a high school senior who reminds me of the way I used to be with fishing. It was a good day - we caught a northern, a bass and a fat perch. As we were leaving, I pointed out to my brother, who has always loved eating breads and grains, that we were passing huge wild rice paddies.

"Can we harvest it?"

"I guess I don't know - I just assumed we couldn't."

Turns out we can. So we bought permits ($26 each), and the next day set out for a little ricing.

We didn't exactly know anything about what we were doing, but god bless the Internet - there was plenty of information. We learned that you are legally only able to harvest rice from a boat the size of a canoe, using two sticks that are 30" or less to bash the rice into the boat. You are also supposed to use a pole with a fork at the end to push yourself through the rice, or paddle if you are able.

So we went ricing. And it works just like you might think. I sat in the back of the canoe and S sat in front (facing backwards). We laid a tarp down on the bottom of the canoe to expedite rice removal (confident that we would, in fact, have rice worth removing). As I paddled us along the shores of the lakes I grew up fishing, S used one pole to tip the plants over the boat and the other to knock the grain into the canoe.

(sorry that the video quality is rotten - I hit some setting on the camera accidentally)

After about an hour, the bottom of the canoe was pretty covered in rice kernels (and worms, spiders and moths that live on the rice plants), and we were pretty excited. We looked up and another canoe was approaching us poling through the rice. It was two Ojibwa men. We felt connected.

"Hey," we said.

"Hey."

"Pretty good rice, huh?" we proclaimed.

"Pretty spotty," they replied.

Guess so. But it was good for us - after 4 hours over the course of a couple days we had 2 garbage bags full. ...Full of a commitment to learn how to process it. Hmm. Currently the grains are spread out on a tarp on the patio drying.

Eating fish bones might make you die

2009-09-08T20:11:00.000-07:00

As I think about potentially having children at some point, I wonder what kind of rules I'll set for them - how I'll try to make them safe, and how much risk I'll be comfortable with them taking. How do you deal with the randomness of life - especially in the context of having children who, because they're young, still don't have as much invested in life and so are often reckless with themselves - reckless with what is most precious to a parent. I'm starting to get it.

Louise's dad worried about these things - he's a generous man with a big heart for his only daughter. And so he decided to tell her that if she ever ate a fish bone she might die. I suppose that way she would never do it, and then the theory would remain untested. Better safe than sorry.

Well, Louise married a fisherman, and I like catching northerns - those notoriously bony, toothed torpedoes of northwoods weed beds. So, although the familial paranoia about fish bones has dissipated to some extent, doesn't everyone prefer to eat fish with the reckless abandon that comes with a boneless fillet? Yes. Of course we all do. As nostalgic as I might be on a full stomach for tables full of people picking through the masticated fish balls in their mouth in search of the y-bones, I prefer those bones gone. So I learned to debone a northern on YouTube.

And once you learn to do this, walleye no longer seems like a luxury: northern is a fantastic, mild, flaky fish - every bit as tasty as anything else the northwoods has to offer. With practice it's not even that hard to do, although it does take a little patience and a sharp knife.

My YouTube tutor:

Puffballs

2009-09-02T19:40:00.000-07:00

Also growing all over the sidewalk in the neighborhood have been a variety of puffball mushrooms. Basically everything in this family that's not green and horribly disgusting looking is edible (ubiquitous disclaimer: do your own research and be careful, and don't use the pictures on this site as your only identification tool). The only mention of confusion I've come across is mistaking nascent members of the amanita family as small puffballs. This is not easy to do. When in doubt, check for gills: if it has gills (even inside when you cut into it) it's not a puffball.

Puffballs can be huge as most people know - bigger than basketballs. For the most part, people slice them into steaks (the interior is solid, smooth white). They have a fairly generic mushroomy flavor, and so I tend to use them as incorporated parts of dishes rather than featured elements. Although a 12 inch mushroom steak that has been marinated, sweated and then grilled would be pretty impressive.

Wine? No thanks. I’ll have an orange soda. At a fancy dinner.

2009-09-02T19:37:00.000-07:00

(from 9/30)

Louise likes wine. Louise is now (perhaps) pregnant. And rather than take advantage of 9 months of a designated driver, I decided to embody the “we are pregnant” spirit of the Madison, WI liberalism on which I was raised, and not drink except for special occassions. This weekend is the first time in perhaps 5 years that a Friday and Saturday night went by without me consuming any alcohol. There may have been other weekends, but only if I was on a family vacation, or in the middle of the woods. It’s a weird thought. The days are so much longer…

My love of whiskey and my love of mornings have always been at odds.

And it’s a beautiful morning – the sun is just up over Caribou Lake. There is a little mist along the shoreline that hasn’t burned off just yet. Louise is still in bed, and the only noise is the chatter of the keyboard.

The Crooked Spoon

2009-09-02T19:34:00.000-07:00

(from 9/30)

After the whole IVF attempt, Louise and I stole a Minnesota Monthly magazine from the rack in the doctor’s office and read about things to do on the north shore. Louise had a wedding shower in Grand Marais yesterday, and so we decided to come up and have dinner at one of the recommended new restaurants – The Crooked Spoon Cafe.

Owned and operated by Nathan and Sarah Hingos, it’s been hyped up to me a few times, but all things need context: for its size Grand Marais has more than its fair share of good eats. For its size. So The Crooked Spoon, while loved locally, needn’t be compared (much) outside that context. Sarah greeted us at the door, and even though the restaurant was half full when we arrived, soon enough there was a steady flow of folks coming in the door.

The place is cozy – one narrow room with maybe 12 tables for 4. On the walls are the cliché mediocre watercolors that haunt coffee shops and places that try to support local artists. Also on the wall are spoons whose heads are gouged from cross sections of birches and whose handles are the birches’ branches. Cool (crooked) spoons. The menu is high flying for a place in a quaint little tourist hamlet. It seems like almost a little much – the food, while good, doesn’t quite deliver on the pretense of listing every ingredient. In the end all dishes we ordered were served with steamed vegetables that feel like the echo of a kitchen that is overreaching.

For an appetizer we had the smoked-cheddar fondue with andouille sausage, toasts and apple slices – very good.

Then I ordered the smoked duck breast, which comes with “crispy pork belly” a fig and apricot chutney, goat cheese risotto and hotel-steamer-tray steamed vegetables with no seasoning. When the meal came out there was no pork belly. A moment later the waitress came out with a little plate with pork belly on it and said “it was supposed to be on top.” It was so overcooked that I couldn’t cut it with the steak knife provided. And it was cold. Something had gone wrong with my meal I think. The risotto was undercooked (not pleasantly al dente), and the duck breast, while seemingly thoughtfully piled around the risotto was odd: some pieces were skin side up, others were skin side down, and they were clearly out of order. A little detail, I know, and I’m not trying to be a pretentious ass about this, but it was a little like small clues (trifles...) all pointing to some sort of dropped-the-food-and-re-plated-it kitchen cover-up.

And the chutney was a huge pile of dried figs and a few strands of apricots that had been soaked in some sort of syrup and would have, if I had eaten more than a bite, totally overwhelmed the rest of the meal. The only bright spot was the duck which was actually very nicely cooked and delicious.

Louise’s meal was much better: two large pieces of pork tenderloin on a pile of spiced sweet potatoes with an apple-butter gravy, green apple garnish (and hotel-steamer-tray steamed vegetables - did I mention the vegetables?). It was a much better dish – thoughtfully seasoned and hearty – a perfect fit for this 55 degree crisp pre-fall day.

If nothing else the restaurant could be hugely improved if they just dumped the ubiquitous -wait for it - steamed vegetables. Seems like there are more thoughtful (and equally easy to make ahead) accompaniments. Or serve the vegetables on a separate plate? They make what are otherwise unique dishes seem watered down and generic (how can wild boar sirloin seem generic? Put a pile of the same steamed vegetables that come with the children’s mac and cheese on the plate).

I think I just had one of those weird meals where something screwy went wrong. Louise tells me that she had the duck before and it was very good. So I like The Crooked Spoon, and think it’s a good fit for Grand Marais. I also might be a little surly because my meal wasn’t lubricated by a glass of wine. Blasted solidarity.

The Crooked Spoon Cafe location:

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Localvor Melancholy and Lake Superior Herring

2009-08-31T07:04:00.000-07:00

Whenever I go to the north shore I stop in at Dockside Fish Market. The lake trout, whitefish and herring that they pull right out of the lake are filleted and sit in buckets next to fish flown in from all over the world. While I'm sure if I lived in Grand Marais I would appreciate the availability of sea bass, halibut cheeks and scallops, they're about the furthest thing from my mind on these short visits. Just thinking about the direct connection to life here fills me with twinges of melancholy - like hand knit sweaters and dirt roads. I bought herring 3 ways: smoked, fillets and caviar. I ate the smoked fish while I looked for (and found) agates on the harbor. The caviar got et later that evening as a prelude to dinner. I brought the fillets home and fried them the next day and served them with a wild rice, pecan and dried cherry pilaf.

How to use caviar (maybe):

On a cracker: Put a bit of soft, mild cheese on a water cracker (I mixed cream cheese, cream and a little left over creme fresh to make it a little more spreadable). Sprinkle that with minced red onion or shallot. Place a small dab of caviar on top.

Lake Superior "Sushi": make fresh, very thin lefsa. Use like nori, and roll a variety of sushi-like rolls. Fillings might be smoked herring, pickled herring, brie / cream cheese, apples, lingonberries, blueberries, watercress, arugula, herbs.... Spread a layer of cream cheese or other soft cheese over the whole lefsa. Sprinkle the other fillings around. Roll up, and cut into inch thick pieces. Garnish with more herring caviar. Who knows, this might be great. Or it might just end up looking like those ham and cream cheese rolls that are ubiquitous at pot lucks in the Midwest.

Another way to think about "sushi" is to shave incredibly thin slices of cucumber (or zucchini or radish) on a mandoline, cut it a little longer than the circumference you'd like and roll it up. Fill it with something viscous enough to hold the roll together (like a light cauliflower puree or even horseradish whipped cream and). Leave 1/2 inch at the top of the cylinder and fill that with minced red onion, or other garnishes and herring caviar. Stick a long chive in one side of the roll extending out of the top.

Herring Tempura: Cut fresh Herring fillets in half lengthwise (to make two long pieces). Fry according to your favorite tempura recipe. Serve with lingonberry preserves and a tartar sauce in which caviar has been substituted for the pickle relish (it probably needs to be in a higher quantity actually)

Dockside Fish Market:

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Restaurant Alma

2009-08-27T07:38:00.001-07:00

For our anniversary Louise and I went to Alma. This is my favorite restaurant in the twin cities. There are other great spots, but Alma is exactly what I think a restaurant should be: the menu changes every 6-8 weeks, and is quickly understood while still offering choice - 4 items in each of 3 categories. The ingredients are (whenever possible) local and organic (there's a forager listed); the atmosphere is elegant without being stuffy. And one of the waitresses has a Mohawk and many visible tattoos. Oh - and the food is absolutely delicious and creative without being unapproachable.

We had the tasting menu - $45 per person for one item from each of the three categories (to order this a la carte would come out to around $50 per person). This meant that between us we ate half of the dishes offered - a great way to get to know a place. On our first visit we were with Louise's parents, and all of us ordered the tasting menu. This meant we ordered and shared every dish - a 12 course tasting menu for $45 each - not bad.

First courses:

Calamari & Marinated Chickpeas with aioli, farro, rosemary soffrito and lemon
Pasture Raised Bison Tartar with shallot, capers, mustard, and "egg yolk mayo"

Second Courses:

Lemon Orzo Pasta with sage butter, sweet peas, marscapone, and crispy artichoke
Roasted Prawns & Eggplant with yogurt sauce, curry oil, mint, and basil

Third Courses:

Roasted & Glazed Local Duck with homemade hoisin, scallion pancake, pickled cucumber and turnip
Lightly Smoked Pork Tenderloin with sweet corn "chowder", roasted poblano, and green chili cornbread

Everything was fantastic - the flavors were creative, but made sense - and while the dishes were complicated, they never seemed to cross over into narcissistic chef-excess. In particular I was impressed with the squid dish for its merging of unexpected flavors and restrained use of arugula, without which the dish might have fallen shy of intoxicating.

I love Indian cuisine, and all things from the sea, and so I immediately gravitated to the prawn dish, reluctantly ordering eggplant as a necessary evil - it just always seems like watery mush to me. I don't know how to describe how wrong I was about the eggplant. It was (cliche) a revelation - as good as the prawns, which were themselves very good - tender, sweet and seductive. I don't know how to make eggplant do what eggplant did last night. It was buttery and complicated and in every way my favorite part of our entire meal. The dish included a yogurt, mint and basil sauce, diced potatoes that seemed infused with jalapeno, and a healthy drizzle of curry oil. Why aren't there more (any?) Indian restaurants (outside of Vancouver) that cook thoughtful and modern Indian food? I'm sure there are, and I'm just not aware of them. Why am I not aware of them?

I could go on and on. It's a great restaurant, and it was a perfect way to spend our anniversary. After dinner we went over to The Guthrie for When We Are Married, which was excellent. What a great city.

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On Mom's Pizza, IVF and Routine

2009-08-27T07:20:00.001-07:00

I'm writing this from the hospital room where Louise and I are waiting for a first attempt at IVF. My mind wanders down the road a little to the way life might be one day with kids. One of my favorite things growing up was routine - having a little stability and something to look forward to.

My family's routines were pretty set. Breakfast in the car while heading to school (often a few minutes late) was a scrambled egg on toast or a mashed up hard-boiled egg with butter, salt and pepper. My brother hated eggs, and couldn't stand the smell of sulphur in the car, like waking up to someone farting in your mouth. I think he often had a piece of toast with jam. Lunch always was tucked in a brown paper bag that Mom packed every morning and put in our backpacks - there was a sandwich, a bag of vegetables (often carrot sticks), or an apple, a can of diet soda and sometimes a little bag of chips. After school we had "snack" - a bagel with cheese, or a couple hot dogs with cheese and ketchup during sports seasons. At 6 or so the 4 of us sat around the dinner table in the kitchen, held hands, said prayers, and ate together. After we kids were finished, we had to ask permission to leave "may I be excused" - which was sometimes denied if we hadn't been sufficiently conversational.

Weekly routines were important too - eventually Sunday night became grilled cheese, Saturday night was always hamburgers, and Friday night became pizza night. After playing around with a number of recipes, Mom eventually settled on one that she and all of us like.

Crust: 2c flour, ½ t salt, 2t baking powder, .25c oil, .75c milk (or a little less); mix dry, add milk and oil, stir until soft dough; roll out to whatever size pan. For stuffed crust make about 1” bigger than pan.

Sauce: Buy pizza sauce: brand (any – store, ragu, etc.); spread it on and add some oregano or garlic powder

Types:

Green pepper, olive, mushroom: sauté a little (dad’s favorite)
(No sauce) Pesto, Roma tomato slices (1/8^th inch) and combination of other ingredients – mushrooms, olives, meat sometimes (usually stuffed crust)

Bake on a pan at 425 for 10 minutes; add slices of fresh mozzarella or shredded mozzarella and bake for 10 minutes or so.

Roadkill Venison Loin and a Chanterelle Cream Sauce

2009-08-21T13:30:00.001-07:00

We had some friends over for dinner who just moved to the Twin Cities from Boulder, a move I've sometimes contemplated in reverse. The sauce was fantastic, and the venison loin was mild and as soft as butter - truly satisfying. I love eating meals this refined that are comprised largely of foods that I've gardened, gathered or otherwise accessed personally in some fashion.

The appetizers: tomato, beans and grapes from our garden, Louise's jalapeno raspberry jam, roasted garlic and a local blue cheese soaked in Summit beer. We also munched on a cranberry walnut sourdough.

Venison Loin: locate an entire venison backstrap. Trim thin end, chop remaining similar diameter piece into lengths that will fit in your pan. Dry, salt and pepper the pieces. Heat 1 T butter and 1 T oil in pan over medium. Pan roast until venison is beginning to firm up, rotating so all sides brown (15 minutes or so). Remove from pan, tent with foil and rest 10 minutes. Do not overcook.

Chanterelle Sauce: Slice 1-2 pounds chanterelles. Sautee in 4 T butter. Once browned and once juices are largely steamed off, add 1/3c cognac, 1/2 cup cream and 1c chicken stock to pan. Reduce to a sauce-like consistency (sauce will thicken a bit as it cools). Add salt to taste.

Broccoli Rabe: remove thick stems and saute in 1 T butter over medium high heat 2 minutes. Add 2-3 T wine and salt and pepper to taste.

The Roadkill Deer:

When Louise and I were driving home from the cabin last February we saw a deer dead on the side of the road. We were driving her car - a clean and tidy little silver protege - so it didn't occur to me that we might pick it up.

"We should pick up that deer!" Louise shouted. What a girl.

The deer was clearly fresh (still flexible even though it was near -10F) and was not terribly mangled. We cleared out the trunk, laid down a tarp, and when there were no cars I hoisted the deer by its legs, crammed it in and we jumped in the car to make a clean get away. This is less than clearly legal I think.

Even though I worked at a survival school, I was not brought up hunting, and so had to look up a butchering video on youtube. My buddy J came over after I had it gutted and just as I was ready to get it hung. I have nice axes and other knives, and am somewhat familiar with dealing with rough cuts of meat, and so the butchering, while not professional, went fairly well.

After the butchering was done I went out to the garage to get things cleaned up. Here's the scene: Louise's car was backed up to the garage, trunk shut. On the bumper was a blood smear that continued down to the pavement, and that extended under the closed garage door. The lights in the garage were on. It was not deer season.

Comb Tooth

2009-08-18T15:46:00.000-07:00

Right next to the cabin on some downed rotting logs we often find one of the most beautiful and delicate mushrooms growing - comb tooth. It's one of those impossible to mis-identify edible mushrooms, although until you're confident, proceed with due caution. While the mushroom is beautiful, it's also a little tricky to clean: the comb teeth have a tendency to catch dirt and debris. But in the end, it's worth it - an original, if mild, tasting mushroom.

Pig's Ear Mushrooms

2009-08-18T15:42:00.000-07:00

Here's a new mushroom we just ate for the first time - pig's ear. Not the most appetizing name, and to be honest, not my favorite mushroom to eat. It's sort of just a faintly bitter, generic tasting mushroom, although I could be convinced to enjoy it in certain preparations - maybe just not as a featured part of a dish.

Foraging near Kabekona

2009-08-18T15:15:00.000-07:00

As Louise and I were driving away from the lake on Sunday night I asked her what she had to get back to work for on Monday.

"Nothing - I thought you had to get back to go in to school."

"I'd like to head in at some point this week"

"Should we stay another day?"

We had just spent almost an hour agonizing over whether or not to leave Abby at the cabin or take her home with us.

"Let's stay."

It was a good choice. On Monday we went berry picking at a spot about 15 miles from the cabin. It's a beautiful jack pine forest with sparse underbrush and a carpet of blue berry plants. Even though it hasn't been the best season in that part of MN there were still quite a few berries. After picking for around an hour we had around 4-5 cups, and were about ready to head home to make some blueberry malts. I looked down and noticed a few edible boletes. After picking those we glanced over at some bright yellow orange mushrooms, and by the time it was all said and done we had found a few pounds of chanterelles. Later that night I found 6 or 7 more near the cabin.

Seems like whatever conditions were lacking from the blueberries' perspective suited the mushrooms fine.

Beet Ravioli and Smoked Chicken Sandwiches

2009-08-13T07:34:00.000-07:00

Louise's sewing club came over last night - 3 people each brought a bottle of wine, and each chose Gazela Vinho Verde, a sparkling white wine that's inexpensive, delicious, and a good fit for a summer evening. I cooked dinner.

At Seward there were glorious little beets in bushel baskets, some with greens and some without. There were white, chioggia, red, and golden - all between .5" and 2" in diameter. I bought a few of each, some with greens. After reading Bittman's 101 salads I wanted to try a shaved raw beet salad with goat cheese, so I got out the mandoline. Once I had the beets peeled I started slicing, realizing part way through that I could shave them much thinner than I had thought - I put it on the slightest setting and the beets came out translucent and flexible. It seemed like the most fun way to put the salad together rather than mix it all up would be to make little ravioli by placing a small amount of goat cheese between two slices. I sauteed the remaining beet slices and beet greens in a little walnut oil and raspberry vinegar, and placed a few of Louise's pecans that were soaked in simple syrup and roasted (thanks to my future sister-in-law for the recipe). Plated it looked whimsical.

The sandwiches were fun too - I sliced chicken breasts to make 2 thin halves and smoked them on the grill. I spread creme fraiche and some of Louise's homemade raspberry-jalapeno jelly on one slice of the New French Bakery's Pugliese (kind of a highbrow version of pepper jelly and cream cheese with crackers). The chicken and sprouts got piled on the other slice. Nice and light. I didn't grill the bread, and was glad for it.

Watermelon and Basil Flower Buds

2009-08-11T15:13:00.000-07:00

This is essentially a recombining of the ingredients in the watermelon juice that I've been making for the past few years. Just cut watermelon (or any combination of any melon or for that matter fruit) into a very fine dice (1/6 inch or so). Sprinkle with lemon juice, mix in basil flower buds (those that you pluck off to keep the plant growing), and place in clear glasses. Pour 1 T of whatever white wine is served with dinner over each cup and serve. Placing a single basil flower on top of each glass would be a nice touch.

I've also made this with tarragon, mint, thyme, and fennel.

Here's a version with cantaloupe and fennel

Pretty, but... not the same

2009-08-11T14:08:00.000-07:00

It's hard to let go. The trip is over, the friends have left; the wood smoke is gone from my hair, and I'm craving the quiet, stoic beauty of the north woods. So, I tried to cook a meal that was reminiscent of the meals we had there - lake trout with chanterelles, blueberry-bourbon sauce, and gnocchi.

It was fine - but the fish was yellow instead of rich rosy salmon. And the mushrooms, while exotic, smacked of cheap trick bistro cooking. The best part of the whole meal was the gnocchi, which I lightly sauteed in butter and sage. Maybe it was good because it was not, like the trout and mushrooms, an echo of something great - because it didn't make me miss the song of the white sparrow or the chaotic way loons careen into the lake. Because when I ate the gnocchi I didn't feel the absence of friends or miss the deep gray-blue water lapping against the shore.

It also seems clear that there is a link between the smells that exist in an environment and the manner in which food is experienced - maybe that's the biggest reason I can never quite get chicken curry to taste like it did when I ate it at that little Indian place in Dar es Salaam: that tropical urban aroma doesn't come in a bottle even though it mingled with the food as I ate it.

Food is so contextual, so fleeting.

Asparagus and Corn Risotto with Chicken and Prosciutto-Wrapped Melon

2009-08-11T13:45:00.000-07:00

For a light evening meal I tried to recreate a dish Louise had at a restaurant last week. I basically followed a standard risotto recipe. Risotto is great because it is so easy to adapt to whatever vegetables or meats are available.

Pan Roasted Prosciutto-wrapped melon: wrap melon slices in 1 slice of prosciutto and secure with tooth pick. Add 1T butter to pan and roast flipping once until prosciutto and melon are nicely browned. Remove from pan and remove tooth pick. Add asparagus pieces from 1 bunch to pan, saute for a few minutes, and deglaze pan with a little white wine.

Chicken Breasts: salt and pepper and then pan roast chicken breasts over medium heat, flipping once after 8 minutes. After another 8 minutes, rest in a 150 oven for 10-15 minutes. Slice into bite size pieces.

Risotto: heat 8 cups low sodium organic chicken stock and 4 cobs of corn kernels to a simmer. Saute 2c arborio rice, 1 minced shallot and 2 minced garlic cloves in 2 T olive oil over medium heat for 8 minutes or so. Begin adding warm stock and corn mixture 1 ladle full at a time, stirring constantly. Continue adding the stock / corn mixture as it is absorbed. Once all stock is incorporated, add 1c shredded Parmesan, .75 cup white wine, chicken, asparagus and salt to taste. Garnish with fresh ground pepper, more shredded Parmesan and thinly sliced basil.

This recipe would easily serve 4-6 with some leftovers. Tonight I'm going to make risotto cakes out of what's left.

Leftovers: I used the risotto to make cakes, floured and fried them in a non stick pan in a little butter, and served them with the leftover prosciutto-wrapped cantaloupe.

Boundary Waters Bounty

2009-08-11T08:52:00.000-07:00

I just got back from the BWCAW. 7 friends from college and I headed back up to northern MN for a week of paddling, catching up and enjoying the ridiculous bounty of that part of the world.

I packed all the food for the week - a complicated little puzzle of trying to balance many people's needs, appetites, preferences and allergies against the requirements of hoisting a week's worth of food in a single pack multiple times a day and going for a hike with it. Without getting in to the details it worked out pretty well: there was very little food left, and for the most part people seemed to feel satisfied. Perhaps that had at least something to do with the explosion of food that was available from the land and water around us.

Berries

We spent the lion's share of our trip in the burn areas of the recent Cavity and Ham Lake fires. It's an austere landscape of jagged black tree trunks sticking out of a pin cushion of granite bedrock. The floor of the forest is overrun with aspen shoots and berry bushes that thrive in this new found sun. While they will later be replaced by the tortoises of forest regrowth - conifers - for the time being they're a pleasure to walk amongst. Not only are they the early heralds of rebirth, they are absolutely thick with berries. Our pace was slowed by the gravity of raspberry bushes so full of berries that their branches hung almost to the ground. We frequently stopped to grab handfuls of blueberries (11 berries in one clump was the record), and 2 people collected a liter in under 10 minutes.

In addition to the sun-loving berries, we also located my favorite northern berry, the Snowberry. It loves shady, wet areas, and grows on a dainty vine that rolls over the top of moss beds and hides under its tendrils small white berries that look and taste like mint tic-tacs. It's worth taking a little time to try to locate a few - they seem like they're part of a world of mystery and possibility somehow - the world of pixies and mushrooms and frogs on lily pads.

Mushrooms

Speaking of the world of mushrooms, they were in full force. Mushrooms are deserving of the timidity with which most people approach them; they are also, however, not as difficult to identify as some people believe. Many varieties lack any dangerous look alike, and with a bit of learning at the hand of someone familiar, anyone can quickly learn to accurately identify a wide array of edible mushrooms.

We found what I believe to have been Gomphus Floccosus mushrooms on the portage between Mueller and Agamok. And when we arrived on Paulson (Jap) Lake we found a large ring of Chanterelles. It was the first time that I had identified either mushroom in the field, and so I decided to bring the mushrooms out and confirm their identity before eating them. We also found cepes / boletes / porcinis on a few portages, though they were already eaten by other forest dwellers.

Fish

While the mushrooms and the berries were wonderful, I love fish. We always catch Northern Pike, Small Mouth Bass and the occasional Walleye. This year, however, I knew we were going to be in a chain of lakes that supposedly hold Lake Trout. I've never been able to catch them reliably, mostly, I think, out of incredulity towards the commonly cited technique: how can it possibly work to drift down the middle of a lake dragging a spoon as deep as it can go?

On the morning we were leaving Peter Lake, W was casting from the shore and tied into a fish. He pulled it up on shore and it lost it's mind - much more so than other fish normally freak out. When he finally got it under control, it was clearly a Lake trout. As we began cleaning it he caught another (they must have been near the surface feeding).

Over the course of the next few days we floated back and forth on Paulson (Jap) lake, dragging spoons and jigs as deep as we could, and caught about 10 more Lake Trout. (On a side note, Lake Trout are not true trout, but rather are part of the Char family). Jer got more than anyone else, and when we asked him how he did it, he proudly answered, "I didn't do anything."

It is truly magical to get a fish on the line when it's so deep, and to wait for it to come into view out of the steely gray-blue water. These fish are gorgeous - they're silvery and speckled, and their flesh is a rich, pinkish salmon.

We cooked them 2 ways: filleted and whole. To a person we preferred the latter method which was not only easier, but less wasteful, more healthy, and more flavorful.

Fried Fish: fillet the fish, avoiding all bones. Pat dry, batter (with Shore Lunch or a homemade flour mixture), and fry in half butter, half oil, until almost fully flaky. No one needs to be told how to do this I suppose.

Cedar Smoked Trout: Gut the fish and stuff the cavity with cedar bows and salt and pepper. Make a deep, wide bed of coals. Cover the coals with punky, rotten cedar. Cover the punky wood with a thick layer of fresh cedar bows. Place fish on top of cedar bows, flipping once after 8 minutes or so. If flesh is not fully cooked before cedar bows catch on fire, move fish to the top of the grill grate and finish cooking over flames. To eat, peel back skin and pick the fantastic - totally decadent - meat off the bones. And don't forget to eat the cheeks.

Peter Lake Campsite Photosynth

you may have to download "silverlite", a microsoft plugin, to view

The view from Paulson Lake's point site (T drinking potent tang)

Steak Tacos

2009-08-11T08:30:00.000-07:00

We had some friends over a few weeks ago for a summer meal. Normally I cook for people I know well; this night, while L and I knew one of the people well years ago, 3 people I'd never met before. It's weird cooking for strangers, especially when you can't provide lots of options. I decided to cook flank steak tacos and let people choose their own accompaniments.

Steak Tacos: I used Cook's Illustrated's recipes for the meat and quick pickled onions - both of which were a huge hit, though I grilled the meat rather than pan roasting it. I heated the corn tortillas on the grill while the meat was resting.

Black Beans: Soak 2c beans in 6 cups water overnight. Drain. Add 6 cups fresh water, 2 T bacon fat or lard, 1 small diced onion, and sprig of epazote. Simmer covered 1-2 hours, adding a little water if necessary. Salt and remove epazote sprig. (Rick Bayless's recipe)

Rice: Puree .5 of a 14.5 ounce drained can of tomatoes in a blender. Add tomato puree to 1.5 cups chicken stock and simmer. In another pan, fry 1 cup rice, and 1 small diced onion in 1-2 T fat for 6-7 minutes. Add 1 diced garlic clove and continue 1-2 minutes. Add tomato-stock mixture to rice, bring to simmer, cover and cook 15 minutes over medium-low heat. Turn heat off and let sit for 10 minutes. (Rick Bayless's recipe)

Guacamole: Remove the flesh of a few avocados and place in a large bowl and smash BRIEFLY with a fork. This is important: DO NOT overwork the avocado. It should be a rough mash in which pieces of unsmashed avocado are more prominent than the avocado goo that surrounds them. Finely dice a small white onion and add to avocado. Chop cilantro to taste and add to the bowl. Add lime juice to taste, and add salt to taste. More often than not, you will need to add more salt - it brings out the sweetness and flavor of the avocado.

Fresh Salsa: Finely dice fresh Roma tomatoes, white onion, jalapeno, and cilantro and mix in whatever quantities you prefer in a bowl. Add lime juice and salt to taste.

Obama at the grill

2009-07-28T21:16:00.001-07:00

Obama. Even though Bobby Flay's show where he goes and tries to outdo hometown favorites is a lame and embarrassing idea that puts the fate of local heroes in the hands of local hacks, this video is awesome. For one thing, Obama admits that he likes his steaks medium well. Not exactly what you might expect of the urbane, arugula eating sophisticate.

And then he picks up on the drizzle for the corn. OBAMA!

112 Burger Copy

2009-07-26T08:48:00.000-07:00

Saturday again and hamburgers. This time I tried to copy the 112 Burger. I wasn't paying enough attention the other night at dinner though. It's on an English muffin with brie. I read a review that mentioned caramelized onions. Salted and peppered the patties and sauteed the burgers in butter. Butter and truffle oil on the English muffins, and they warmed in the oven. My brother's fiance is lactose intolerant and so she got a slice of tomato. Put it all together - pretty tasty.

They usually serve the burgers with a side of quick pickles I think - I served it with a cucumber salad with tarragon and lemon juice. It's a good compliment to a very rich burger.

It was also the first night that we had the lights on the pergola.

Burgers: Portion out 1/3lb patties of 80/20 beef, handling the meat as little as possible (alternately go through the trouble of grinding your own). Make the centers of the patties thinner so that as the meat seizes up it becomes flat rather than bulbous, and salt and pepper the patties. When trying to mimick these American diner style burgers, don't get out the grill: put too much clarified butter or oil on a stainless skillet and fry them up. Not diet food, but in order to get that crisp exterior you've got to use fat. Cook over medium on one side without flipping until the burgers develop a crust and release from the pan. Flip - but when flipping make sure to get some more fat under where the burger will land by swirling the pan. Cook to your liking - using either an instant read thermometer, intuition or the poke and look method.

While the burgers are cooking, slice up the brie, finish caramelizing the onions (oops), and toast the English muffins in butter and truffle oil. Some people think that these burgers are steamed - and I think it's possible that the muffins are warmed with steam before serving...

Cucumber salad: peel and shave a seedless cucumber using a vegetable peeler (or mandoline). Add juice of a lemon (or a little less), a T of sugar, a few grinds of salt and a T of chopped, fresh tarragon.

Asparagus Soup

2009-07-24T09:09:00.001-07:00

Yesterday before L and I headed downtown for a friend's rooftop surprise party we had a quick dinner of some asparagus soup. It's really easy to make, and fairly healthy.

2 bunches of asparagus makes about 4 servings. Break off the woody ends, and cut off the tips. Blanch the stalks in boiling water and then drop them into an ice water bath once they're bright green. Puree the asparagus in a blender with a little of the cooking water until very smooth. Pour off any unused cooking water and strain the puree through a mesh strainer back into the pot. Add half and half and salt to taste. Warm just before serving or serve cold or room temperature.

Saute the reserved asparagus tips in a T of butter. Add salt and pepper. For this soup I also sauteed very small (2 ounce) chunks of halibut (presentation side dipped in a mix of salt, pepper and sugar). Pile the asparagus tips in the center of the bowls. Ladle soup around, but not on top, of tips. Place a piece of halibut on top, and garnish with hot chili oil, herb oil, or truffle oil. Sea Bass would also be great - or salmon or any type of fish. A little pile of mussels would work too. Or oysters, shrimp, lobster or morels. Or foie gras. Or even thick cut bacon cut into pieces.

Woodland or Alpine Strawberries

2009-07-21T19:56:00.000-07:00

All around the cabin at Kabekona are these crawling little strawberry vines intermingled with the grasses and flowers. I've always loved strawberries, and while the supermarket variety is nice and big, there's something truly satisfying to these diminutive, fragile and oft-overlooked denizens of the north woods. I usually have trouble finding more than 10 or 20 and so either eat them or use them as an accompaniment to a small, fussy dessert.

As a child I always felt somehow that they were my little secret - like I never saw my friends or any of the adults picking them. Except for grandma who, also like me, had an uncanny knack for finding 4 leaf clovers.

Cattails

2009-07-21T19:16:00.000-07:00

While in my early 20s I spent some time, as I mentioned before, at Tom Brown Jr.'s Tracker School in New Jersey. There I began to get interested in wild foods, and in particular the wild foods that are easily found in Minnesota. Apparently, cattails are one of the best survival foods. Many of their parts are edible at various points in their cycle, including their underdeveloped green seed heads. We clipped a few, and I took off their papery hulls, battered them and fried them up.

They're a little like corn in that you nibble the outside of the cylinders, leaving the inner hard stalk intact. They have a mild flavor - slightly floral. I would likely serve them with some sort of dip next time, and they would be good cut in half, so rather than nibble around the outside of the small stalk you could just pull off the top and bottom halves like melty popsicles. It would seem also that you could probably par cook them and pull off the edible portions to be used in a fancier presentation.

Cattail Popsicles: I wonder if I could chop each at the middle, and remove about an inch or inch and a half of the edible stuff, exposing a little handle - that would definitely make them easier to batter and to eat. Little wild foods vegetarian corn dogs.

Weird Meats

2009-07-17T08:06:00.000-07:00

My buddy E loves to have people over - Friday night fish fries, crawfish boils. Last year we made a turducken. Took all afternoon watching youtube videos to figure out how to de-bone a turkey a duck and a chicken and then sew them all together. In December we had a bourbon tasting - 8 different people, 8 bourbons, and prime rib.

This time he and his cousin cooked up the idea to have a weird meats night. Not exactly a gathering that encourages turnout. There were 7 of us total.

Menu:

Silkworm Pupa
Roasted Eel
Pig's Tongue and Heart Tacos
Deep Fried Rocky Mountain Oysters
Grilled Yak Sirloin
Butterflied Grilled Guinea Pigs
Octopus
Swamp Eel

Silkworm Pupa: By far the most disgusting thing was the Silkworm Pupa. They and the roasted eel were canned meats from United Noodle. Seriously. Someone had to sit in on meetings, someone had to design the can, to do nutritional analysis, someone had to farm the things and process them, and then there have to be enough people out there that eat them to make it profitable. They are wretched, heinous little crunchy bugs, and I will never eat them again nor sneer at people on fear factor who puke during the eating events.

Tongue and Heart Tacos: The tongue and heart tacos were great. We just peeled the tongue and sliced both it and the heart agains the grain into little pieces. Sauteed with some spices and served with queso fresco, onion, cilantro, lime, and avocado they were tasty - similar to those I've had at La Que Buena and Taco Pineda.

Rocky Mountain Oysters: Hmm.... These were the biggest mental challenge for everyone for obvious reasons. It just seems like an affront to maleness generally - like a betrayal of my gender - to eat a testicle. And yes, I know, we've all eaten them before if we've ever eaten a hot dog, but believe me: it's different when the veiny water balloons are staring you straight in the eye. In the end everyone manned-up (a phrase that seems complicated by context) and ate at least one deep-fried slice of balls.

And they weren't as bad as they might have been. We made the mistake of not cutting off the outer layer that got really chewy when cooked, and the interior was a little like spongy, mild liver. A little hot sauce and a concerted effort at thought suppression was all it took, though few went back for seconds.

Grilled Yak Sirloin: This was, at least for me, the clear favorite. It tasted very much like grass fed beef. No issues here. It's delicious.

Guinea Pigs: These are apparently a delicacy in much of South America - Ecuador and Peru anyways. Erik found them at the little corner store by his house in the freezer section. Apparently there are enough Ecuadorians around that occasionally they sell out of the things. Which is impressive, because they're small and $15 a piece (E wondered if it would be cheaper to hit up the local Petco). And the Ecuadoran schools must be different than our schools because to a person everyone thought that these little freaks looked like freshmen biology class. And then we ate them.

They seemed pretty greasy to everyone, and were a lot of work for a little reward. Once I got on to a nice leg / thigh piece, I understood why people who know a little more about how to prepare them consider them a delicacy: the meat is tender and mild, not unlike rabbit.

Octopus: There must be a better way to cook octopus, because on the grill they were like eating garden hose. I've liked octopus in the past: at Sushi bars, or served on a paper plate by a vendor in Stone Town, Zanzibar, so we must have done something wrong.

Swamp Eel: Swamp eel is disgusting. It smells of earth and tastes horribly fishy and I truly do not understand why people would choose to eat it unless no other options existed. Maybe it's one of those things - like you grew up by a swamp and grandma always cooked it at family get-togethers so it's meaningful to you. Then I suppose you should eat it. Or maybe you have some magic swamp eel marinade that google couldn't find for us. Otherwise, stick to Guinea Pig.

Kabekona

2009-07-15T06:47:00.000-07:00

I spent 5 days at our family's cabin on lake Kabekona near Walker, MN. My brother and his fiance were there for part of the time as was my wife L. Food here is simple and meant for a crowd: my extended family owns 5 or 6 cabins on the south shore (and if I include second cousins, the cabin count jumps to somewhere around 15).

We eat sandwiches on the patio overlooking the lake; we cook hamburgers for relatives from California, Texas, and Norway (relatives who generously shared their "caviar in a tube" which was delicious); we cook on the new stove and island that my father built at Sleepy Hollow - a wonderful stove and cooking environment that looks out at the living and dining rooms and towards the lake.

Kabekona Shoreline Photosynth:

you may need to download "silverlite", a Microsoft plugin, to view

Kabekona Location:

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Birthday at the 112 Eatery

2009-07-10T18:51:00.000-07:00

On birthdays we generally spend at least one night with each family, and use the occasions as excuses to enjoy each other and a special meal. Tonight we celebrated L's father's birthday and so went to the fantastic 112 Eatery. It needs no introduction for anyone interested in food in mpls.

Menu: Of any restaurant in the Twin Cities, at the 112 you get what you pay for (and then some). What I mean is that everything feels accurately priced. For god's sake you can get a $6 banh mi. Not only is the menu fairly priced, it does what good menus do: retain crowd favorites while experimenting at the margins. I know I can always get the Foie Gras Meatballs with Tagliatelle, the burger or the fries (and others).

It’s also a menu that seems to be influenced at least to some extent by the current food-hipster Korean/Asian-fusion fascination – though fusion is a pejorative, and I don’t mean it that way. And this influence is subtle and only one of many: there are lots of dishes that are Italian-informed etc. Maybe it’s simply hard to pin the 112 down. There are influences and playful combinations, but the heart of the restaurant seems to be a sort of souped-up bistro style with international milieus that never worries about fat content (it's not exactly vegetable-focused).

Order:

Appetizers: lamb scottadito w/ goats milk yogurt , steak sartare, sautéed sweetbreads in porcini & clam sauce, Gnocchi
Main: Halibut with Shrimp Escabeche, Cheeseburger, Seafood Cutlets with Leek Relish
Dessert: Some sort of salted caramel over cream in a canning jar that is my favorite dessert right now. This thing is awesome. We got 2 and shared them wishing we’d gotten 4. I just checked the online menu and it's not listed which sucks if true and is a stupid move on their part. You know what - they should put a few bourbons and cognacs on the menu for dessert too. Because the other best dessert ever is a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a glass of whiskey or cognac (or coffee I suppose...)

112 Eatery Location:

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Green Salmon Curry

2009-07-09T17:08:00.000-07:00

L is shopping for her canoe trip right now so I'm eating fish. Green salmon curry. I basically follow Kasma Loha-unchit's recipes for curry, so I'll skip any details. This time I had some corn, broccoli and salmon sitting around, so that's what went in. For the first time I used Kasma's steamed-rice-technique, and it worked fine, though I'm using new rice and I think I overcooked it. Rice is one of those subtly difficult parts of cooking.

In general I make a large batch of curry paste and freeze it. Basically if I want to make curry at home and unless I want to eat curry for every meal I have to freeze the paste. I do this in ice cube trays. The store-bought stuff is truly second-rate (people claim otherwise but they are settling - even the Thai people who claim otherwise are settling: pedestrian half-assing knows no ancestral bounds especially when you don't have summers off). And making it at home (even with the benefit of a food processor) is a fairly serious endeavor. So there's really only one option. Freezing is easy, and the curry cubes last for a year or more.

Cleaning out the Lauter Tun

2009-07-09T13:26:00.000-07:00

Back at the Harriet House when I lived with 4 friends from college I made a lot of beer. Cliche, I know, but we got really good at it and ended up with around 400 gallons over a few years. Since then, as is also cliche, we've each gone off with our separate women and gotten married and put aside at least this childish thing.

But not anymore. I'm tired of letting $400 dollars worth of beer making supplies crud up and rust in the basement. Does this count as a summer project? L? I'm going to weed the garden after I get done blogging about how I'm wasting my time on making beer. Blogging about something that is frivolous is meta(mega - nay, in the parlance of our times, UBER)-frivolity. Onward!

Anyhow, I'm B-Briting the lauter tun and a carboy while a batch of Oktoberfest waits patiently on the kitchen counter.

The Harriet House:

(click and drag on the picture)

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The Raspberries are Coming

2009-07-09T08:54:00.001-07:00

I ate my first few raspberries today - over a bowl of Grapenuts with a little brown sugar. We have a prolific raspberry patch and it's just kicking in to high gear. After I swim at the midtown YWCA today I'm planning to weed the garden, pick some berries, and get going on trying to clean up our white trash pile for which the City of Lakes just cited us (it's all the construction debris from the patio, fence and pergola).

BBQ Pork "Stock"

2009-07-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

After I made the pulled pork the other day I kept all the juices from the pan. Once they sat in the fridge for a day all the fat congealed at the top of the container and I scooped it off. Underneath was this highly gelatinous brown jello that smelled fantastic. I decided to heat it up as a gravy for some of the left over potatoes from last night - ridiculous. It was so good. Then I made up some corn grits and added a little aged cheddar. Piled them in the middle of a bowl and ladled the stock around it. Fantastic. And I'd add some corn to the potatoes next time. It's salty, spicy and rich with lots of smoke. Almost too salty though to use in any quantity. Not as salty as soy sauce, but getting there.

BBQ Greens: boil greens with bacon or ham hock, saute in a little lard and finish by adding some of the stock for 30 - 60 seconds or so

Smoky Sauce: saute some pork tenderloin medalions. While resting add the stock to the pan, scrape up the bits and reduce with some bourbon or cognac. Thicken with a little butter and / or maple syrup. And maybe add some apple cider vinegar. Or reconstituted cherries, craisins, or even peach puree. Basically add it to any sauce for pork. Make a honey mustard vinegrette pan sauce and add it to taste. Or make a Thai sauce with fish sauce, a little roasted shrimp paste, some tamarind water, chilis, and the stock - thicken with a corn starch slurry or coconut milk.

Ground Pork: Sautee some ground pork, add ginger and garlic, make a sauce with corn starch slurry, soy sauce, mirin, ground mustard, dried chili flakes, white pepper, water and stock. Pour the sauce over the pork until thickened. Use the pork in egg rolls or lettuce wraps

Roast Pork Au Jus: Make a shredded pork sandwich (no BBQ sauce) with some melted cheese on a crusty bun and dip it in the stock.

Smoky Vinagrette: Make a vinagrette with a little of the stock, walnut oil and any fruit vinegar, and serve with mustard greens, goat cheese, bacon, and candied walnuts

Consistency across a meal: use this stock in each of 3 courses in small quanitities to provide hidden coherence...

Welcome Home Meat and Potatoes

2009-07-07T19:43:00.000-07:00

This morning Mom and Dad came in on the red eye from California. Though I met them in the morning, they slept most of the day. But it was the first time I could make my dad food since the middle of June, and so I went to Byerly's in the afternoon. Dad can't eat a lot at one sitting right now, and in general lacks an appetite - seems like food just doesn't taste as good anymore. Because he can't eat a lot he tries to eat high calorie, high protein foods.

Dad is pretty reticent about food preferences, priding himself on how he could eat potatoes for every meal. It maps right on to how he drives cars with "personality" and how he and Mom sleep in the back of the Buick rather than getting hotel rooms on road trips.

But he will occasionally talk about how much he likes a good cut of beef. Like prime tenderloin. I think it's safe to say he has never purchased this food in his entire life - whether at a restaurant or grocery store. So I get to do it for him. And even though the rest of us are constantly trying to lose weight tonight we ate the rich stuff.

Grilled Filet Mignon (or Top Sirloin for the rest of us): buy 1.5-2 inch thick filets (8oz each). Salt and pepper and grill over hot coals for 4 min / side. Move to the side of the grill away from the coals, cover the grill and continue cooking an additional 6-8 min / side. Rest for 10 min

Mushroom Cream Sauce: dice baby portobellos and saute in butter. Once browned and reduced significantly in size, deglaze with brown liquor or red wine of choice. Add cream, reduce to desired thickness and season to taste with salt and pepper

Cheddar Riced Potatoes: Peel, chop and boil Yukon Gold potatoes. While boiling heat up half and half on the stove and shred aged cheddar. Once potatoes are fall apart tender, rice and immediately mix in half and half and cheddar as well as a liberal amount of salt. Fold as little as possible

Rosemary Asparagus: put asparagus, olive oil, chopped fresh rosemary, salt and pepper in a foil wrap and grill next to filets until bright green. L wants me to add that it's important not to overcook them J.

Dessert: Haagen Dazs "Five" vanilla ice cream with fresh cherries.

Luzon, Jumilla Spain 2007

2009-07-07T11:38:00.000-07:00

We ordered Birchwood's house wine, Luzon, from the Jumilla region in Spain. I've heard that wine people have taken to mispronouncing the region and saying "Jew-mill-uh". Maybe that's the wine way, but the right way is more like "who-me-ah". Anyhow, it was a good wine, and particularly good for the price. It seemed spicy, plumy and vacant to me.

Wine Enthusiast had this to say: "Truly captivating wine for under $10? Yes, Luzón’s Monastrell-Syrah blend is exactly that. It delivers huge plum and spice notes, with tobacco, herbs and smoked meat working their way into the game. Remains powerfully fruity and spicy in the mouth, with a long, minty, medicinal finish. Competes with thousands of wines priced higher. Overdelivers by a lot!"

The Birchwood Cafe:

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Watermelon Juice, Mimosas, and Martinis

2009-07-06T12:45:00.001-07:00

Watermelon Juice: scoop a seedless watermelon into a blender. Add a small amount of water if necessary. Add a bunch of basil (or any minty herb - tarragon, mint or even fennel). Blend until smooth and strain through a shirt or layered cheese cloth. Reserve a little puree in the blender to get the next batch going. Repeat as necessary. Add lemon juice to taste.

Watermelon Mimosa: Mix half and half with champagne or sparkling water

Watermelon Martini: Mix with vodka and sours and simple syrup. Shake and serve with watermelon cubes and a small basil leaf

Hamburgers

2009-07-06T08:44:00.000-07:00

Growing up my brother and I had hamburgers every Saturday. So did my dad when he was growing up. But it was Sunday and hamburgers still sounded good. I got Grass Run Farms ground beef and kept it simple.

Yesterday at the farm stand L picked up some hot pepper jelly, and we served up what I think is a local favorite: hot pepper jelly over cream cheese with crackers. It sounds weird, but it's addictingly delicious. Is this served outside the midwest?

It was a beautiful evening and we sat around talking around a little fire on the patio after dinner wondering what Palin was thinking with her bizarre, rambling, speed-read resignation press conference. Sha-na-na-na...

Lake Koronis 4th of July

2009-07-06T08:09:00.000-07:00

L and I drove up to her step-mother J's cabin on Lake Koronis on the 4th of July. We passed lots of roadside produce stands and had to slow down for families carrying lawn chairs across the highway on their way to the parade routes. At one point a group of 10-12 corvettes drove past on the other side of the road. Even though there were people everywhere, we drove under cloudy skies, and only began to see blue sky as we neared the cabin.

During the afternoon we played bocce, fished, and drank watermelon mimosas. In the evening we sat down to a dinner cooked by J and her sister: devilled eggs, coleslaw, corn and BBQ riblets and chicken. The next morning was a breakfast of potato, corn and pepper hash with eggs steamed right on top cooked in grandma's cast iron.

Photosynth of Lake Koronis Cabin:

you may have to install "silverlite" a microsoft plugin to view

Pulled Pork

2009-07-04T07:20:00.000-07:00

On July 3rd we had 5 friends over for a potluck dinner - L and I supplied the sandwiches and a corn salad. Our friends' young son spent the afternoon smashing raspberries into his mouth, and we sat around outside catching up. J's face was a little yellower and bluer, but his stitches look pretty good.

I made pulled pork - a fairly long but simple project. Even though it's easy I had to plan ahead: 3 hour spice rub, 3 hours on the grill, 2 hours in the oven and an hour rest. I also used Cook's Texas-Style BBQ sauce. Forget the slow cooker crock pot. The grill does the same thing without making the meat into tasteless shreds.

One of the most suprising realizations from my attempt to learn how to cook was to realize that grilling and BBQing are totally different from each other (BBQing involves low, slow smoky heat). Who knew.

Our friends brought a grape, walnut and goatcheese salad; L made a fresh, simple and delicious corn salad from Barefoot Contessa.

Halibut with Cauliflower, Edamame and Mulberry Sauce

2009-07-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

While my buddy J and I were ripping down his chimney he got nailed in the face by a falling trash can and had to go get stitches. He's OK, and I spent the time he was in the clinic making a little dinner for us.

I had some halibut in the fridge, and during the day I picked some mulberries from J's tree. Cauliflower seemed like a nice compliment, and I decided to get a bag of shucked edamame too. I additionally shucked the wierd little seed cases off the edamame because I can get kind of OCD.

To start with I pureed the mulberries with some red wine. These went in to a little pot with some maple syrup, raspberry vinegar, and fish sauce to reduce.

I chopped the cauliflower (organic, 5 inches across) into 8 wedges and sauteed it in butter, reserving two of the wedges. The rest got salted and pureed with some vegetable stock.

The edamame got warmed and salted, but that's it.

I wiped out the cauliflower pan, added some butter and the halibut (the halibut was coated with salt, pepper and brown sugar). After 3 minutes / side on medium the halibut came out of the pan and in to the 150 degree oven to rest with the dinner plates and reserved cauliflower. I try to rest fish as little as possible - just enough to finish the pan sauce.

After that I finished the sauce in the pan and plated it all up. The mulberries are so deep purple that I think they would have been better under the fish. And the cauliflower puree looks a little too much like dog puke. But I have to say, aside from that, the flavors were great together - although the edamame seemed a little out of place.

The Salty Tart

2009-07-02T07:14:00.000-07:00

On our way over to visit friends yesterday we stopped in to the Midtown Global Market to pick up some cupcakes from Minneapolis's newest best bakery, the Salty Tart. If you haven't been, you really have to go. Michelle Gayer, who co-authored Charlie Trotter's Desserts, does a fantastic job. Everything is meticulous and delicious - the aesthetic is cute-elegant. Cupcakes are $2.50 each and many of the tarts are $3. If this bakery were across from Anthropologie they could charge double and no one would bat an eye - so it's a steal, and I can imagine the Salty Tart branching out some time soon.

Here's what we ordered:

Vanilla Bean Cupcake with White Chocolate Ganache Frosting filled with Lemon Curd
Dark Chocolate Cupcake with Milk Chocolate Ganache Frosting filled with Dulce de Leche
Chocolate Guiness Cupcake with Dark Chocolate Frosting filled with Sour Cream
A salted caramel chocolate tart
L's favorite macaroon ever

Seriously. Just go. Unless you don't like sweet things. Except that they have savory Brioche Tarts as well. So go.

The Salty Tart Location:

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Softshell Crab Salad

2009-07-02T06:52:00.000-07:00

I went to Coastal Seafoods yesterday to see what they had in. It's softshell crab season, and so I got a couple. A few years ago I had a great softshell crab sandwich at the Birchwood Cafe, and I decided to try to recreate it. The sandwich was fried crab on brioche with yellow tomatoes, lettuce and lemon aioli. I couldn't track down any brioche, so I just made a salad. Heirloom tomatoes, fresh greens from the garden, lemon aioli. It was good - probably could've used the brioche though - and L was a little sketched out by eating a whole crab, no matter how soft.

I also recreated the snap pea tempura from Broders using Cook's tempura batter. It's a funky batter that uses vodka and seltzer water as well as a little corn starch to keep light and crisp. They turned out pretty good - a little more batter than Broders, but close.

Broder's Pasta Bar

2009-07-01T08:36:00.000-07:00

I took the red eye back home once Dad's plumbing was back up and running. Got in to mpls around 10:30. I slept for a lot of the afternoon, and then L and I met her California relatives at Broder's Pasta Bar for dinner.

Broder's doesn't take reservations, but we called ahead and put our name on their list so that when we got there it was only a few minutes before we were seated.

They've expanded the outdoor patio recently though, and added a nice little wine counter in the waiting area, so even if we hadn't called ahead there were options.

We ordered the fried snap peas with lemon maionese (essentially a snap pea tempura) and a variety of fresh pastas. There are lots of favorite dishes that are often on the menu, though the menu is printed daily and does change. Broder's makes much of their pasta in house, and these dishes are by far the best. Substitutions are also allowed, so you can choose basically any of the pastas on the menu with nearly any of the accompaniments. Many of the dishes can be made with their excellent gnocchi or risotto as well.

This is one of the best restaurants in the twin cities. It's not the fanciest, but they've hit on a winning formula and seem happily reluctant to change it.

Broder's Location:

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Dreaming of the BWCAW

2009-06-29T13:26:00.000-07:00

As I sit in the hospital room at Los Robles I've been trying to do a little planning for the canoe trip that I take with friends from college. It got me thinking about the trip we took back in 2006. Generally we take frozen steaks (that thaw while packed) for the first night out, and if it's not raining we cook them right over the fire on the thick forest service grates.

Somehow food always tastes better outside.

photographs by TDK

Campsite on Alpine Lake:

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Remembering a Thai Dinner

2009-06-29T12:06:00.000-07:00

A few months ago my wife's parents were in town and I cooked them a Thai-themed dinner.

Snow crab and lemongrass-infused coconut milk custards
Deep fried crab-stuffed deviled quail eggs over mango salsa
Pork medallions over long beans with green curry sauce, basil oil and jasmine rice
Strawberry basil sorbet

It was a fun dinner - I just wanted to remember the menu, because I don't think we took pictures.

The best Thai Cookbook is It Rains Fishes - unfortunately, at the time of this post it is out of print, and even used copies are selling for over $75 (new it's $125). I bought 2 copies over the years because I used it so much, and apparently it's become a foodie collector's item. Should've known.

Full Liquid Diet

2009-06-28T17:57:00.000-07:00

Dad made his next move today towards a diet that includes "full" liquids - liquids with more nutritional stuff in them. Once things start moving they move pretty quickly. He also got the tube out of his nose, as his body seems now able to handle at least some digestion.

Dad's first meal in 12 days

2009-06-27T12:18:00.000-07:00

After laying in the hospital bed for 12 days with nothing to eat or drink, my dad got a tray of food today. He still has the NG tube, but he's been sipping on broth for the last 5 minutes. I'm particularly glad that he's able to try this for Stephen's sake: Stephen will be leaving tomorrow, and it's easier to leave when there are real signs of progress.

Villa Farfalla

2009-06-26T23:23:00.000-07:00

S and I went up the coast to visit the home that our uncle has just finished building. It's a beautiful home in Montecito that will go on the market shortly. While there I took a couple videos of the wine cellar and kitchen.

The wine cellar

The Kitchen

The Beach at Montecito (and my brother posing with flip flops):

Brophy's Brothers, Santa Barbara

2009-06-26T20:16:00.000-07:00

After we checked out unlce B's house (which was truly incredible) we headed up the coast a few miles to the Santa Barbara Harbor for some seafood at Brophy's Brothers. The food was fine, and the view was fantastic. We got the cold seafood appetizer sampler, the fried clams, and the clam chowder. Sort of an East Coast order, but it was what we were in the mood for.

Brophy's Brothers Location

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Del Taco and Migrant Labor

2009-06-26T20:10:00.001-07:00

This afternoon S and I headed up the coast from Thousand Oaks to Montecito to check out the Tuscan Villa our uncle has been working on for the past 2 years. We popped into a Del Taco for a quick bite. It's a fast food Taco joint ala Taco Bell, except that the tacos are Mexican style - 2 corn tortillas, meat, onions, cilantro and a little salsa. The meat was a little spongy, but you can't get a mexican style taco at any drive through I know of in Minneapolis.

On the way up the 101 we smelled fresh strawberries wafting into the car. Out the window we saw a bunch of migrant strawberry pickers hunched over in the fields, and a little ways off was a roving taco truck. Probably a distinct upgrade from Del Taco - oh well. It's a little bit of a wierd scene driving past these farm fields - don't know how to think about it really. The confluence of immigration and economic justice issues with the politics and ethics of food. It's oddly remenicent of images of cotton fields, but it's clearly not exactly the same. And while I suppose there are worse lots in life, I can't imagine spending my entire life picking strawberries. How do we sort it all out? The randomness of birth...

NYTimes Editorial on Migrant Labor

JUSTICIA: Advocacy for Migrant Farm Workers

Exacta-Mix (TM)

2009-06-26T10:47:00.000-07:00

Dad's been in the hospital for a full week after surgery now, and it looks like he'll be in here for at least a few more days. Because of the long stay, his doctors have decided that it's important that he get some nutrition. They hang this bag of amino acids, electrolytes, sugar, and protein, as well as a glass bottle of lipids (fats). Deconstructionist cuisine at its most abstract. Nutrition.

Stephen thought the name on the bag was funny - like companies have to advertise their own brand of trace element nutrition. Daytime infomercials that run on closed-circuit television in hospital administration buildings. They've got the salesman and the pseudo-skeptical pretty woman doctor who is reluctantly won over. A room full of bedridden hospital patients with IVs in the audience, all clapping in awe of Exacta-Mix (TM) and its nutritional superiority. All for 3 low payments of $399.95 / day!

A Lemon, by Pablo Neruda

2009-06-24T12:58:00.001-07:00

As we walk out the door in the morning, to the right is a lemon tree. There are small little hard green lemons and everything in between. It's so cool to see lemons on trees somehow. I'm sure that's how people feel when they come to the cooler northern latitudes and see the apples and cherries. I should plant a cherry tree when I get home.

Out of lemon flowers
loosed
on the moonlight, love's
lashed and insatiable
essences,
sodden with fragrance,
the lemon tree's yellow
emerges,
the lemons
move down
from the tree's planetarium

Delicate merchandise!
The harbors are big with it-
bazaars
for the light and the
barbarous gold.
We open
the halves
of a miracle,
and a clotting of acids
brims
into the starry
divisions:
creation's
original juices,
irreducible, changeless,
alive:
so the freshness lives on
in a lemon,
in the sweet-smelling house of the rind,
the proportions, arcane and acerbic.

Cutting the lemon

the knife

leaves a little cathedral:

alcoves unguessed by the eye

that open acidulous glass

to the light; topazes

riding the droplets,

altars,

aromatic facades.

So, while the hand

holds the cut of the lemon,

half a world

on a trencher,

the gold of the universe

wells

to your touch:

a cup yellow

with miracles,

a breast and a nipple

perfuming the earth;

a flashing made fruitage,

the diminutive fire of a planet.

Pablo Neruda

Wisconsin Cheese Curds

2009-06-22T01:32:00.000-07:00

So my brother showed up on Saturday in California with a backpack stuffed with cheese curds. He'd been in our home town, Madison, WI, that morning at the farmers' market, and brought back the good stuff - squeaky and fresh. If you've never had fresh cheese curds, you're missing out: they're absolutely unique, and deserve a spot right along side any of the other revered fresh cheeses. Their humble reputation is a reflection of the humility of the people who love them, and not of any inferiority: they're just as good in their way as the best fresh mozzarella. And for anyone enamored by rarity, it seems like they're even harder to get.

These were from Chula Vista Cheese Company in Browntown, WI. I wouldn't deep fry them since they're this fresh (although deep fried cheese curds at the Minnesota State Fair is a foodie heaven and I love it every year). I'm thinking textural element - diced and served with similarly sized diced potatoes, or with shrimp, or on a cheese plate with cranberry sauce. Maybe they'd be good just piled in a light vegetable puree soup at room temperature, or diced with peas and curry powder...

In-N-Out Burger

2009-06-21T20:24:00.000-07:00

OK. We didn't eat the burgers while driving down the freeway without a windshield, but S and I did make a point of meeting our uncle for dinner at In-N-Out Burger.

I love burgers. This is the great American food. Just the fact that it's such a well defined form lets people experiement in interesting and subtle ways. These burgers are "old fashioned" - light, white buns, fried onions, a thousand island sauce, american cheese and pickles.

So the menu is minimal, but you can make a bunch of unadvertised changes. Ordering a cheeseburger "animal" style gets you a burger loaded with everything, including fried mustard, which I don't exactly understand. You can also order a 3 by 3 (3 burger patties, 3 pieces of cheese) or a 4 by 4. Veggie burgers are also available (though they just omit the meat). French fries can also be ordered with cheese or animal style (animal fries). But none of that's on the menu.

In-N-Out cuts their fries from potatoes right in each store. They also process their own beef patties and pay their workers well.

It's not the exact same, but Cooks Illustrated has a great recipe for an "old fashioned" hamburger.

Remembering Mother's Day

2009-06-20T17:43:00.000-07:00

We've been sitting around all day talking and doing crossword puzzles while Dad chews on ice chips and makes his way from the bed to the chair and back. I loaded some pictures from my folks' camera onto the computer and was reminded of this past mother's day.

We all gathered at Mom and Dad's on Sunday as usual, though this Sunday the kids did the cooking. I'm forgetting everything else that we had - this picture is of the one request that Mom made: she likes celeriac puree or mash. I made a soup, pureeing it with some Yukon Golds. The garnish is baby arugula from my soon-to-be sister-in-law's garden, herb oil, and violets.

Back to Ice Chips

2009-06-20T12:40:00.000-07:00

Healing is incrimental, and while I slept for 6 hours from 5-11 Dad made it back to ice chips. The pink swab that was so important just a few hours ago is cast aside, and a cup of ice chips sits beside his bed within his own reach.

Foam Lollipops

2009-06-20T02:35:00.000-07:00

In the middle of the night we've reached a relatively stable rhythm. Dad sleeps for 20 minutes or so, and as the morphine wears off he wakes, pushes the button and requests the "swab". I get up and go to the sink, fill a glass a little way up with water, go over to the bed, and wet the swab. He sucks on it, maneuvering it around to keep his mouth from becoming too dry and cottony. He swallows very little, if any, and whatever is swallowed is sucked up by a tube.

The swabbing has also taken on a bit of an illicit mystique: it is to be administered as little as needed. The nurses and Mom play the role of enforcer, and I try to sneak Dad a few more swabs as I'm able. Once he even warned me with a little glance as the nurse was rounding the corner.

He is free to take narcotics, but water has become contraband.

This is a distinctly austere version of the ritual of sharing nourishment, but for the time being the swab represents a break - a small sensory luxury easing Dad closer to morning.

Ice Chips

2009-06-19T22:05:00.001-07:00

I was just going back over a few posts, thinking about food and living. There are so many excesses here.

My father is lying in a hospital bed recovering from an invasive surgery during which much of his small intestine was removed along with many of the cancerous growths that were interfering with his digestion. He has not been able to eat or drink anything since Tuesday. Up until surgery he was allowed to chew on ice chips, though after surgery even these are too much for his healing body to handle. So he craves ice chips, and instead we swab his mouth with damp foam lollipops.

There is too much here. Certainly I had not intended these writings to be anything other than a celebration of food and sharing food, but things take turns. Ice chips become critically important. A vine ripened tomato in August represents an almost unbearable explosion of life and richness - a testament to two more months of hoping and healing, of living and laughing.

Hot Doug's

2009-06-19T21:35:00.000-07:00

So a while back six of us got together in Chicago to hang out. My buddy lives there with his wife, and another buddy flew in from DC with his girlfriend. I made them all go out at 10am, hung over, and wait in line until Hot Doug's opened because I wanted duck fat fries. The guy I was visiting worked across the street from HD's for a few years but had never gone. Grass is greener. Also he's a vegetarian. In the photo I'm basking in the light of the piles of duck fries, The Dog, the Game of the Week, a Salma Hayek and whatever 6 or 7 other hot dogs we ordered. I think there was an elk dog, an alligator dog, and something with chicken liver pate and Camembert.

For those who haven't been, it's a little touristy, but Doug himself is often at the register, and the decor seems to scream that if it ain't broke, don't fix it. The only problem I had was that because the wait was long, and because I'm not likely to often tolerate it on my relatively infrequent stints in Chicago I wanted to order, and eat, just about everything on the menu. Go with a group, everybody order 1 or 2 different dogs, gather at a table and pass them around.

Hot Doug's Location

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Otter Creek Farm Cheddar

2009-06-19T10:13:00.000-07:00

At Seward's cheese counter I knew I wanted a cheddar - preferably from a local farm. I noticed one that I hadn't had before - Spring from Otter Creek Farms outside Madison, Wisconsin. I grew up in Madison, which is one of the best towns around, so I asked the cheese guy about it. He said they make cheeses using seasonal milk - thus the "Spring" and "Fall" varieties. I bought them both and a rustic baguette for a little taste test.

Both the cheeses were great - aged, but not overly sharp. The spring variety seemed more bright and herbal - the fall seemed similar to other aged cheddars I've had -more musky and earthy. Everyone else preferred the fall variety - I liked them both.

Otter Creek Farm Location:

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Grass Run Farm Ribeyes and Truffle Potato Salad

2009-06-19T07:09:00.000-07:00

Grass Run Ribeyes: So when I hit the meat counter at the remodelled Seward Coop I noticed that some of their beef was from Grass Run Farm. I called my wife L to make sure, but I knew that it was our friends, Ryan and Kristine's farm that we'd visited a few years ago. We actually had bought a quarter of beef from them, and are just finishing up with it right now. Their meat is 100% grass fed - they don't even finish on grain, and so the saturated fat content is much lower. I bought a round steak and thawed some ribeyes from our freezer.

Garlic Scapes: In the produce section I saw some garlic scapes - these curly pig's tail looking veggies that are smaller than a pencil in diameter and beautiful. I'd never cooked with them before, but decided to toss them with some olive oil and quick grill them while the steaks were resting. Roughly chopped I served them in a little pile under the steaks.

Potato Salad: A while ago I had read a recipe for truffle potato salad in Charlie Trotter's Workin' More Kitchen Sessions that I'd always wanted to try. Basically you just make an aioli with white truffle oil, chop up some herbs and make a potato salad. It's really nice though - and could easily be made with any herb oil or nut oil ...

I served the steaks with a red wine, maple syrup and cherry reduction. I added some anchovy paste as it was reducing, and then folded in some cold butter once it was really syrupy.

Grass Run Farm Location:

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Finnegan's Irish Amber

2009-06-17T13:41:00.000-07:00

Because it is summer and because "beer is living proof that god loves us and wants us to be happy" I stopped in at Zipp's Liquor Store to pick up a few bottles. Last time I was in they were tasting a Minnesota brew called Finnegans. It was a solid amber ale. But the most interesting part about it is that Finnegans is a non-profit brewery that gives all its profits to charity. Getting buzzed while saving the world. Mmmm...

Watercress, Cherry and Maple-Glazed Pecan Salad

2009-06-17T13:40:00.001-07:00

The first course tonight was a salad of home-grown mesclun, cherries, maple glazed pecans, and watercress. Cherries are in season. When I was wandering through Seward Coop looking for something to have for dinner, the big crates of cherries seemed the perfect place to start. I thought they would go perfectly with watercress's peppery bite. I knew cherries and pecans are great together, and then I tasted a little sample of some of Seward's maple-glazed pecans which were great. I debated about adding some sort of cheese, but thought it would be too much - especially after we had just tasted two local cheddars.

Dressing: blend cherries, terragon, olive oil, cherry vinegar, maple syrup, salt and pepper.

Poached Egg Tacos and Pesto Pasta

2009-06-16T11:50:00.000-07:00

On Sunday before L and I left for Rochester, she made me breakfast. This time she was trying to use up the chicken and other Mexican ingredients that we'd used for Tortilla soup last week. The result were these great poached egg tacos with shredded chicken.

I made us a quick lunch today to use up the pasta from the figs and artichokes dinner. There was one fig left over, and I I just tossed the pasta with some of the last bits of basil pesto from last year.

Riverview Wine Bar

2009-06-13T19:00:00.001-07:00

After sipping on the cider, L and I went to the Riverview Wine bar for dinner. It's just a short walk from our place. Most of the time when we've tried to go there on a beautiful summer Saturday the place is overflowing with people sitting around nursing a flite of Malbecs for 4 hours. Tonight - 3 tables to choose from. Who knows - maybe that's an echo of the economic times.

I ordered the flite that compares 4 bordeauxs - Lagarosse 2003, Lagarosse 2005, Lagarosse Les Comtes 2003, and Lagarosse Les Comtes 2005. I normally avoid all things French because they seem pretentious and overpriced, but that was just the night we were going for. Both L and I (in a blind test) preferred the older vintages - feeling that they were more complex - spicy, earthy, with those dark fruity, almost chocolate / coffee thangs happening. I never know exactly how to talk about wine without sounding snobby or foolish.

We ordered the anitpasta which was $11. It seemed like a potluck coldcut platter to me - the sausage was taste-free, as was whatever cheese slice they put under it - some sort of super market provolone sandwich cheese. The olives were fine, and the rolls of prosciutto were prosciutto. Not what I would consider something to order again. And there was no bread - bread is $6.

The roasted beet salad with gorgonzola and walnuts was very tasty, if not exactly heavy on the beets. It came with apples on top, which I thought confused matters. It was also drenched in olive oil, or some sort of vinagrette that needed more vinegar. Beets love vinegar, and I love beets.

The fig pizza with pine nuts and goat cheese was solid. The figs, however, were dried, not fresh, and the pizza could have really used some cracked salt. I love the pizzas here, though - the crusts are great, and they go well with sipping wine on a patio.

If the rest of the meal was hit or miss, the Creme Brule was excellent. It was one of the first creme brules I've had in a while that was neither overcooked nor overly sweet. L and I fought over every bight.

Riverview Wine Bar Location

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Crispin Cider

2009-06-13T18:50:00.000-07:00

Crispin Cider advertises itself to be an all natural, premium cider. The bottle tells you to serve it over ice. I've made cider from lots of different types of apple products - from organic local unpasteurized cider to Rainbow Foods on sale super-processed juice cider. While there are differences between the batches I made, the more important differences are between the homemade stuff and the store bought stuff. Hardcore and Woodchuck are too sweet and smack of Jollyranchers.

So I cracked the bottle with skepticism. It has a great pour over ice - I expected it to fizz too much. The head is nice and almost like a nitrous pour. And the taste is subtle and fairly dry - actually very similar to homemade. It is not overly sweet, and has a dry, champagne-like quality.

The company is based in Minneapolis, though the cider is produced in Northern California. Check out this article on HeavyTable.com about founder, Joe Heron.

Poached Eggs Patti-Style

2009-06-13T11:49:00.000-07:00

Every weekend, as is likely becoming obvious, my wife L makes me poached eggs.

Growing up, my mom stayed home with us kids. She would make our breakfast, and lunches everyday, and do our laundry. Her friends told her she was spoiling us, because no woman would want to cook for us every day. I grew up not only to love cooking, but to marry a woman who also likes to cook.

And she even smashes my eggs and cuts the toast into 9 pieces each just like Mom used to (and still does sometimes on Sundays when we're there for brunch).

It may seem silly, but it also seems like home.

Figs and Artichokes

2009-06-12T19:25:00.001-07:00

Tonight I made dinner for L and her step mother. L wanted something simple. I didn't exactly follow her advice, but what she really meant is that she didn't want to have to clean up after a kitchen disaster, and so I made sure there weren't very many dishes. This has got to be one of the most important and hidden skills in the home kitchen.

We had a salad of baby greens from my mom's garden, with mozarella that I bought at Seward Coop as it was coming out of the kitchen fresh made, and grape tomatoes. I just cracked some salt and pepper and drizzled the olive oil and balsamic - a deconstructed vinagrette.

The rest of the meal was prosciutto wrapped black mission figs (L's favorite part) with pasta in a white pesto sauce with artichoke hearts.

The rain missed us to the south, and dinner was accompanied by the cedar smoke from our little camp fire.

"White" Pesto: make a basil pesto, but omit the basil. Add a little wine. Serve with basil or whatever herb you like. I actually bought a bunch of tarragon but chickened out because I thought people might think it was a bit much for an easy dinner. Arugula would be nice. As would any herb. Or even spice...? The white pesto is a clean canvas. I sauteed it, added flour, water, wine and let it thicken to make a sauce.

Artichoke Hearts: steam the chokes and eat the leaves for a light lunch with a little butter. Reserve the hearts (this is clearly the hardest part). Saute in butter with some diced shallots and pile on top of the plated pasta.

Prosciutto-wrapped figs: slice figs in half and wrap each in a slice of prosciutto. Toothpick. Sautee until browned, but no more.

Mom's Grilled Cheese

2009-06-08T06:53:00.001-07:00

Most Sundays my wife L and I go over to my folks' house for the afternoon and evening. It's L's favorite meal of the week. We sit in the kitchen around the small dinner table and Mom takes orders. Options include type of bread, cheese, ham or no, tomatoes or no. Mom always has out her non-stick electric skillet, and has a pretty specific system. She butters and browns one side of a slice of bread, and depending on the kind of cheese and how long it takes to melt she'll put the cheese on the slice of bread as it browns.

Then she scoots it off to the side, but still on the skillet, while she butters and browns the second slice of bread. If there's meat to be added, it goes on top of a layer of cheese on this slice. She closes the sandwiches and finishes browning. And we'd better come to the table right then because she hates it when the sandwiches get luke warm or overcooked.

She always heats up bowls of soup for my dad and I (Campbell's Tomato), and then keeps the pot on a few minutes longer because she and L have spent a lifetime burning their mouths and so tolerate stupid-hot liquids.

It's comfort food at its best.

Lake Mukooda Venison Kebabs

2009-06-07T10:56:00.000-07:00

Every year my wife L and I go on a weekend camping trip to Voyageur National Park. Last year some of the guys and I used a coal burning technique I learned at the Tracker School to make some bowls. This year the guys had decided to up the ante, and so they turned a tree stump on its side and burned a 20 inch wide, 8 inch deep pit in it. We put a grill over it and cooked up some great venison kebabs.

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Big Daddy's Old Fashioned BBQ

2009-06-06T19:10:00.000-07:00

We went to Big Daddy's BBQ on University in St. Paul, MN tonight. It was raining and 55 degrees. We pulled in to the back parking lot and immediately smelled the wood smoke. Out back a man was running three large smokers. He directed us in a small door leading down into the basement of the building.

The interior of Big Daddy's is as sparse as the menu: just a few tables with stools. Behind the counter sit stacks of coolers with the ribs and chickens inside. On the menu: Beef Ribs, Pork Ribs, Chickens, Greens, Slaw, Fries (and maybe a few other things that I am forgetting). While the guy behind the counter was cutting up our ribs, Big Daddy was reclining on a bench on the far wall. He is truly a big daddy.

And the food tells you why: it's fantastic. If I spent my career around these ribs I'd be a (n even bigger) big daddy too. The ribs are tender, surrounded by that rich, slow-smoked crust. Drenched in house-made BBQ sauce, they're served with white or wheat bread. We ordered beef and pork, slaw, fries and greens, and for $40 or so, four of us walked away full with a good bag of leftovers.

Bid Daddy's Location

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