It's becoming a tradition, when I fly into Portland, to head directly to the Gotham Bldg Tavern in NE Portland for a hearty breakfast. The first time I visited, only a few months ago, I managed to wolf down one of their famous, decadent breakfast sandwiches: a soft seeded roll piled high with an over-medium fried egg, thick applewood-smoked bacon, Vermont Cheddar, and housemade catsup. It is not for the faint of heart.



On this visit, with my entire family in tow and in town for the holiday weekend, we made a beeline for Gotham as soon as the plane landed. Early. Very very early, and I needed coffee (thank goodness, during my entire stay, I never had one bad cup of coffee; it is the home of Stumptown you know). One perfectly crisp waffle and an exceedingly fresh poached egg later, I was ready to hit the Pearl district for some last minute shopping. And, of course, a meandering trip to Powell's (always a mandatory stop on my ever-increasing visits to Portland).

So this is how the weekend started. We had all converged on Portland to celebrate the holidays, and this year was special--it was the first time my brother was hosting the event at his new(ish) house. We, of course, went all out. And when I say all out, I am primarily talking about food. If there is one thing that bonds my family together it is food.

Months ago, my brother and I came up with an elaborate Christmas dinner menu, and he spent the time prior to our arrival making sure all the particulars were in place--from brewing 2 kegs of beer (check out his Kegerator) and building a tabletop large enough to accommodate all the dinner guests, to purchasing pasta bowls just for our first course and placing an order with Viande Meats for a beautiful rack of veal.



Over the days leading up to the big feast, we sipped rich, frothy lattes and sampled fig-anise bread from the Pearl Bakery (truly one of the best lattes I've ever had)...



...we overindulged on pizza from Apizza Scholls, and went all-out for our traditional "fancy night out on the town for Christmas Eve" at Wildwood, a Portland culinary institution which, after that exquisite meal, deserves its glowing reputation.



A sample of what we ate:
* Sweet local oysters with Champagne mignonette
* Endive salad with toasted walnuts and creamy blue cheese
* Potato-leek soup with Oregon truffles
* Porchetta with hazelnut bread pudding and grilled pears
* Mesquite-roasted chicken with braised Brussels sprouts, goat cheese gnocchi, and roasted celery root



On the day of Christmas Eve, we did our big shop in preparation for the feast--our first stop was to the upscale specialty market, City Market NW to pick up our beautiful free-range rack of veal from Viande, along with sheets of fresh egg pasta from Pastaworks, and a bag full of chanterelle mushrooms.



On Christmas morning, after gleefully opening our gifts and eating one too many slices of our annual Christmas kolache, we got down to business. Somehow I ended up as the chef barking orders to all those around me (this cannot possibly surprise anyone who knows me). But we were a well-oiled machine: my brother Mark, my mom, and Wendy were all tasked with specific jobs to chop this, stir that, prep those, peel these while my father stood guard at the sink, washing every dish that came his way. By 4pm, the nibbles were out, the Champagne chilled and the guests arrived. We were ready to eat!

Here's what we made:

Nibbles
Rosemary flatbread with cheeses and salumi
Marinated olives
Marcona almonds
Served with Kir royales

First course
Homemade, individual spicy roasted pumpkin ravioli with brown butter and sage
Served with a white Italian Arneis

Main course
Roasted chanterelle mushroom and arugula salad with shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano
Balsamic-braised fennel and cippoline onions with thyme
Roasted Tuscan rack of veal
Served with an Oregon Pinot Noir

Dessert
Chocolate-almond babycakes with wine-poached pears, bittersweet chocolate sauce, and creme fraiche
Served with Stumptown coffee

Whew.
We rolled back to our digs at the Kennedy School later that evening and basically passed out. And it didn't end there, but I'm full just writing about all this food.



As New Year's Eve approaches, I think it's time to reach into my bag of cocktails and pull out a very unique celebratory drink. About a year ago, I had some friends gathered around me to share in the weekly Friday night horror that was the final, gasping, death-rattling seasons of of Star Trek: Enterprise. Given the eternally furrowing Captain Quantum, an anorexic Vulcan Crack Whore, and the general unrelenting awfulness of the show, alcoholic beverages were often required to get through the night. One fateful night, my friend Suzanne arrived armed with a wild and inspired concoction. (She also arrived armed with lots of bottles and bendy straws.) With more than a nod to those fabulous books, I give you...

Lemony Snicket: An Unfortunate Combination of Liquors

Yield: 1 kick-ass Happy New Year Cocktail

1 1/2 ounces Absolut Citron
1 1/2 ounces limoncello
Bitter lemon (aka Tom Collins mix)
Campari
Maraschino cherries
Paper umbrellas
Bendy straws


1. Fill a tall glass with ice and add the vodka and limoncello. Add a splash of Campari for a deceptively pink effect (the Baudelaire orphans' least favorite color is pink) and top off with the bitter lemon. Garnish with maraschino cherries, umbrellas, and bendy straws.

2. And yes, those are Star Trek glasses. In my humble opinion, this drink can only be successfully served in Star Trek glasses. Star Trek III: The Search for Spock glasses. From Taco Bell. Sold in 1984. I love them.

Drink responsibly, be safe, and have a happy New Year!

Over at Ye Olde Stanke Cheeseshoppe, we are quite serious about our cheese. However, there are times -- especially in moments of high stress -- when we also get quite silly about it.

There has long been a tradition of one cheesemonger or another suddenly bursting into song as they pull the wire through a round or as they offer a taste of something to a customer. Although the customer might be taken aback by this behavior, I assure you it is perfectly normal. It is also perfectly normal for another cheesemonger to chime in on the next verse. But if you listen closely, you'll realize that, while you recognize the tune, the words are a totally different story (I do believe that "Meaux! Meaux! Meaux! How do you like it? How do you like it?" is nice and catchy). See, the longer you Work in Cheese, the more you likely you are to realize how many songs can be made up about cheese, glorious cheese. Especially when you're all hopped up on hot chocolate flights.

There are times when we've even chewed over the idea of burning our own CD and calling it "Cheesemonger's Delight" or something. At any rate, with the constant Christmas carols being pounded into my head no matter where I go, it was just a matter of time before I fully cracked and started coming up with lyrics. So, here are a few Cheesemas carols to speed you on your merry way.


Oh, Christmas Cheese, Oh Christmas Cheese

Oh, Christmas Cheese, Oh Christmas Cheese
How lovely is thy bloomy rind
Oh, Christmas Cheese, Oh Christmas Cheese
Not only ripe in summer's heat
But also paired with salty meat
Oh, Christmas Cheese, Oh Christmas Cheese
How lovely is thy bloomy rind

God Rest Ye Merry, Cheesemonger

God rest ye merry, cheesemonger; let's plan a large buffet.
Remember, Mozz, our sa-a-vior will sell out every day
So shave us all some Parmesan while we cut more Ouray.
O tidings of Roquefort and joy, Roquefort and joy!
O tidings of Roquefort and joy!

In Pyrenees, in Switzerland, some lovely cheese was formed,
And aged within a natural rind upon this sav'ry morn;
The which to all great e-ea-ters is nothing but cheese porn.
O tidings of Roquefort and joy, Roquefort and joy!
O tidings of Roquefort and joy!

From Greece our island partner, a blessed Feta came;
And unto certain mo-on-ngers brought tastings of the same;
And there was some nice Ardrahan that sort of causes stains.
O tidings of Roquefort and joy, Roquefort and joy!
O tidings of Roquefort and joy!

Silent Cheese

Silent Cheese, Holey Cheese
All is Tomme, all is Bries
'Round of Che-eh-der
Monger and wire

Holey Stilton so stinky and dire
Cheese, oh HEA-ven-ly, chee-EESE!
Chee-eese, oh hea-ven-ly, cheese.

O, Come All Ye Mongers

O come, all ye mongers,
Tired yet still patient,
O eat ye, O e-eat ye some Mo-on-tegrappa
Come taste our Poacher, pair it with a Chardonnay
O come, let us pre-cut it,
O come, let us pre-cut it,
O come, let us pre-cut it,
Brie de Meaux.

Slice, wires of mongers,
Slice in quick rotation;
Slice all the Fougerous of heaven above:
Fourme of Ambert, Fourme is the priciest
O come, let us pre-cut it,
O come, let us pre-cut it,
O come, let us pre-cut it,
Brie de Meaux

Here We Come A-Mongering

Here we come a-mongering among the cheese and cream
Here we come a-wiring so fair to be seen.
Brie and chevre wrapped for you.
And to you glad Gruyere too.
And Gouda bless you and send you a stinky New Year.
And Gouda send you a stinky New Year.

I told my mother about them and when I got to "roquefort and joy," she could only groan, "Oh, Steph-ie, that's awful!" She also didn't think our family friend and opera star Janis Hardy could be induced to sing them the next time she makes an appearance on Garrison Keillor's "A Prairie Home Companion." Oh, the world can be such a cruel, punless place!


Title:Culinary writer, cookbook author and president elect of the San Francisco Professional Food Society
Home town: Scarsdale, NY. Living in the Bay Area since 1978

1. How did the idea come about for The Wine Lover's Dessert Cookbook?
Co-author Mary Cech and I developed the idea together. We met at a chocolate class for culinary professionals and it turned out we both wanted to write a book. We talked about a lot of ideas, but when we hit on pairing wines with dessert, we realized that was the one, because it really hadn't been done before.

2. What was your role in the book?
I'm primarily the writer in the pair. We both researched the wine and the matches. My job was to make sure the recipes that Mary created were easy for people to make at home.

3. How did you test the recipes?
I made each recipe at least once and often many times. Then we had a large team of recipe testers who tested the recipes under different circumstances, in different geographic areas with different equipment in different kitchens. The testers were great. One woman was a baker. She and her husband had a wine store and he'd send me his wine tasting notes with every recipe!

4. What common misconceptions are there about pairing wine and dessert?
The dessert that is most often mismatched is probably wedding cake and Champagne. It won't hurt the cake but the Champagne tastes flat and sour. I would suggest using a demi-sec Champagne. The other common mistake is pairing chocolate with Champagne or Cabernet. The Cabernet won't taste right with it. Port is an obvious match, but there are lots of other chocolate friendly wines like a fortified Zinfandel Port, a Cabernet Port or a Banyul.

In general, the wine should be sweeter than the dessert. For example slightly sweet salty nuts with a sherry pick up the nutty flavors in the wine. A special wine should get a special dessert but a simple one, nothing that would overshadow it. If you had a 1998 Chateau d'Yquem you might want a plain creme brulee with it that has creamy and caramel flavors.

5. What wines do you recommend with something complex like tropical fruits?
There are lots of magical pairings for tropical fruits. Tropical fruit based desserts paired with Beringer Nightingale Botrytis Sauvignon Blanc Semillon are gorgeous together. But they're also lovely with ice wines. I cannot follow a recipe to save my life. The irony is that I'm a cookbook editor, so not only do I develop, edit, and insist on changes and re-writes from my authors, but I have my own cache of personal recipes that I've tweaked and toiled over.

The fact that I cannot follow a recipe is nothing against the recipes themselves--you'll often find me devouring a cookbook, pouring over a magazine article, or scrolling through a culinary website. It's just that I can't be bothered to measure much of anything and I'm generally not only willing but wholeheartedly in favor of substitutions (based upon what I've already got in my pantry). Well, and frankly, oftentimes I just don't agree with the way the recipe was written.

Occasionally I like to amuse myself, put on a look of furrowed concentration, and hunker down and attempt to follow a recipe. So you can imagine what it meant when I decided to make the Zuni roast chicken and bread salad from The Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rodgers. Now, this happens to be one of my favorite cookbooks and it's not because I cook from it on a regular basis (although if I had loads of time, I would). I love it because it's a damn good read. Rogers' culinary sensibility and the level of detail with which she writes is both enticing and challenging. If I follow each detailed step, will I be assured success? How will I measure that success--against the chicken I've eaten at Zuni countless times? (Here I should insert yet another caveat: The chicken at Zuni is nearly always consistently fantastic--crispy, salty, juicy and set atop a bed of chewy toasted bread hunks with bitter greens and tangy vinaigrette. However, I have sampled versions where the bread is just a bit too stale, the hunks are just a tad too large, and the greens are too few.)

All that being said, on Thursday evening I set out to find two small 3-lb birds. After visiting a few higher-end markets, I gave up and decided to pursue it on Friday (she does, after all, suggest that you can salt the birds for 1 to 3 days, so I still had a day). Thwarted again on Friday. Every market had only 5-lb + sized birds! Saturday morning, knowing I would just have to give in, I visited one of my favorite butchers, Ver Brugge, in Rockridge. Score! They had a pile of Rocky Jr. fryers that were indeed junior sized. I purchased my two 3-pounders and headed home to salt away. So this is where I first veered from the recipe. I didn't measure the salt. I rinsed and dried the birds as instructed, and even used kosher salt as Rodgers suggests (although that's what I always use so if she had called for something else I still would have used kosher), but I just took a handful and rubbed it over the chickens (and a bit under the skin, again veering from the recipe) until they had an even coating.

Later that afternoon, I started on the bread salad. As instructed, I trimmed the bottom crust and most of the top crust from the loaf of rustic Italian bread that I was planning to use. But, rather than cut the bread into great hunks, I ripped it into smaller pieces. One of the issues I've had with the dish at the restaurant was that the bread pieces were a bit too large and I wished they were slightly more toasted. So I took it upon myself to change that. Since I need to purchase a new pastry brush, I couldn't brush the oil on each side of the bread chunks, so I tossed them into a bowl with a drizzle of oil. Anyway, back to the recipe. I did broil the bread, which worked beautifully, although I think I probably went a bit longer than I was instructed to, meaning I ended up with crispier croutons rather than chewy chunks with burnished edges.

Meanwhile, I made a light vinaigrette which I tossed the bread in, and soaked my currants in red wine vinegar and warm water. But I didn't measure.



Finally, the big moment arrived, and I cranked up my oven to 475F (against my better judgement). Rodgers suggests using a shallow roasting pan or skillet that is not much larger than the chicken, so I chose my cast-iron pan and an All-Clad saute pan. I have actually roasted chickens in my cast-iron pan before, so I was all for this method, even though the high heat was a bit worrisome to me. Rather than heat the pans on the stovetop, I put them into the oven for about 5 minutes before tossing in the chickens, breast side up.

Immediately there was a symphony of sizzling and the skin on the chickens began blistering and bubbling away. After about 10 minutes my entire kitchen filled with smoke, and after 20 minutes, the whole house. With opened windows and better circulation, I turned the chickens (and, as Rodgers assured me in the recipe, given the high heat and because I pre-heated the pans, the skin didn't stick!). They were already gorgeous.



While the chicken was searing away, I sauteed the garlic, greens onions, and oops, I couldn't help myself and added a chopped shallot. All of this was added to the bread, which was tossed together with the drained currants and a bit of chicken stock, salt, and pepper. As directed.



The whole mess was piled into a baking dish, covered with foil, and set in the oven to heat during the last 5 minutes of the chicken roast (the final stage of the chicken event is to flip it and crisp the breast once again before removing it and letting it sit for 5 to 10 minutes).

While the bread salad was warming and getting a bit more tender (I think I over-toasted my cubes just a bit), I poured the fat out of the hot hot hot pans and made a quick, flavorful pan sauce with the bits in the bottom and some water (as instructed).



This was tossed in with the bread salad along with handfuls of baby arugula and baby mustard greens, then spread on a large (unwarmed, again not following the recipe) platter. I did however, cut the chicken into pieces and nestle them into the salad. As you can see here.



All in all, I barely followed the recipe. The ingredients and the general idea behind the recipe was kept intact, and the end result was absolutely delicious. Perhaps next time I'll get out the measuring cups and spoons and try it her way. (Here are my friends Chris and Paul, about to enjoy the chicken with a glass of heavenly Navarro Pinot Noir.)

Back in Paris already, you ask?



Not Paris, France but Paris, Las Vegas passing the faux Eiffel Tower en route to Danny Ocean's favorite vault...the Bellagio! I'm sure the Ocean's Eleven (and now 12) gang would have held off on filming had they known that the 2005 Rising Star Chef could indulge them in the cuisine of the Bellagio's latest culinary endeavor. Sensi, opened almost one year ago to date in the new Bellagio spa tower, is a gastronomical delight of the senses (sensi in Italian) and is, in a word, remarkable.

Chef Martin Heierling, former Executive Chef of Bellagio Events and before that Lespinasse in New York City, was handed the reigns to the newest space chez Bellagio and created the concept, hired the architects and artists, stone craftsmen and pottery artists. The results are spectacular. Involved in every aspect of the restaurant, Chef Martin created a dining experience that takes the diner into the heat of the kitchen by strategically placing the kitchen in the center of the restaurant surrounded by glass walls. Every table has a front row view of the grill, the prep area, the sea food station, the pasta station, the tandoori station and the chef's station all which showcase the skill, energy, and sheer focus of the chefs. When you walk in, the beguiling aromas from the open bread kithen and brick oven grab you by the lapels and refuse to let go.

Mason jars line the glass walls and are filled with every imaginable spice, herb, preserve and pickle.



Row upon row of glass mason jars filled with every imaginable spice and herb, preserves and pickles, as well as glass refridgerated units that allow each diner an unprecedented peek into the kitchen. All cooks are miked to communicate with the Chef who fires off orders as they roll in and shouts for dishes and garnishes as the order comes together. Like Mehta with The Three Tenors, the Chef with his sparkling blue eyes, contagious laugh and light-up-the-Strip smile guides everyone with lightning precision and laser focus ensuring that every dish arrives in unison. "Hip, fun, vibrant" were his guiding tenants and indeed, as the Chef claims, "the place rocks"!

A view of the glass wall of refridgerated units from one of two chef's tables.



From the water fountains to the menu paper to the granite to the wood from Japan for the tables, every aspect was painstakingly poured over if not created by the Chef. Don't ask him how much the granite cost. He'll roll his eyes as it would put most restaurants out of business before they opened. All the plates are hand made, no two are the same, each designed for that specific dish. The beet-arugula salad with chive oil is served on a rectangular plate with vibrant green drizzles on it, teasing the diner into trying to lick up the last drop. I know I did! Bon appetit!

Home made bread from their bread kitchen and wood burning bread-pizza oven



Spicy Pepper Naan and Herb Naan with three dipping sauces



Crispy fried shrimp rolled in rice flakes with creamy ginger mayonaisse and Kaffir lime oil and live Santa Barbara prawns fresh from the tank in tempura with a soy lemongrass dipping sauce



Roasted beet and arugula salad with Winesap apples, toasted pine nuts, Maytag blue cheese, chive oil and aged balsamic vinegar. note the plates!



Potato gnocchi with roasted wild trumpet mushrooms in a chicken jus with a horseradish foam and a seared scallop topped with a roasted chippolini onion then a braised duck raviolini in a barolo sauce..... that I could have bathed in!



....topped with a mound of shaved white truffles!



Pear soup! It took every ounce of energy not to pick this up and gulp it down but so as to not embarass my dining companion (the Chef's wife!), I delicately savored every spoonful. Nashi pear with lemon zest, star anise, vanilla, cinnamon, with a drop of lime juice to give it a kick, accented with Kaffir lime oil and a cinnamon stick.



Crispy Thai Red Snapper with a julien of carrots, sugar snap peas and bean sprouts with a green curry foam



Braised beef short ribs with horseradish mashed potatoes and a black pepper jus. These melt in your mouth and the rub make your tongue do the tango. The beef takes 3 days to make and is aged on the bone. Rubbed in a home made spice melange then marinated in a tomato base puree of Worcestershire sauce, ginger, garlic, tamarind, brown sugar and hot mango pickle over night, the beef is braised for 5 hours and served steaming from the tandoori pot.



A quad of chocolate to round out the evening with white chocolate "milk", dark chocolate tart with fresh raspberry jam and a dollop of creme fraiche, chocolate mousse with dark chocolate mint ganache and clementine segments and a tiny chocolate souffle.



Chef Martin Heierling with the final button-popping dessert whimsically presented in a cross between an igloo and a Who from Whoville ice hat. Sorbet of passion fruit-mango, raspberry and coconut scooped on a bed of diced mango.



In compliance with full and fair disclosure, I was an assistant at the James Beard House when the Bellagio came to NYC and am friends with the Chef and his wife. That being said, it was still one of the best meals I've ever had in one of the most exciting settings imaginable. So the next time you are in Las Vegas, don't lose your money, but go ahead and lose your senses.....

______________________

Sensi
Chef Martin Heierling
Bellagio
3600 S. Las Vegas Blvd.
Las Vegas, NV 89109
702 693 8800
www.bellagio.com

Check, Please! Bay Area is KQED's new local series featuring regular people reviewing Bay Area restaurants.

Visit the Check, Please! Bay Area blog to experience the restaurants from Episode 4:

1) Vik's Chaat Corner: | restaurant information | reviews |

2) Limón Restaurant: | restaurant information | reviews |

3) Insalata's Restaurant: | restaurant information | reviews | recipe |

Please feel free to join the discussion by posting comments about the show and your reviews of the featured restaurants!

You can now watch all episodes online! Check out the new photo gallery to view behind-the-scenes shots.

Head Cheese is going to be really irritated with me for posting this entry, because it's all about one of her favorite hoarding cheeses, BUT I have a duty to spread the Gospel of Cheeses. I will be a burning Bucheret, and I will deliver a sermon on the Mount Tam! Am I going to hell for that slice of heresy? If so, I'll remember to pack my raclette. (Rimshot!)

I first had this cheese a few months ago. We were standing around Ye Olde Stanke Cheeseshoppe, pre-cutting, pre-wrapping, and pre-pricing our more popular cheeses in order to ready ourselves for the impending Saturday Farmers Market onslaught. McCheese came bounding up to the barge, shrieking, "It's here! Kiku is here!" She ripped off the sous vide wrapping, pulled a cheese wire through the round, and shoved a fig leaf-wrapped half in my face. "Take a whiff -- it smells like coconut!" McCheese announced. I took a deep drag and she was...oddly correct.

This fresh, goat's milk chevre that should have nothing whatsoever to do with coconut did smell amazingly like that tropical nut. Is it the musty Sauvignon Blanc that the fig leaf is soaked in? Something Kiku -- the goat for whom the cheese is named -- ate? That last one is sort of gross to think about but, hey, if you didn't know that's where cheese came from then I do feel sorry for you. Seriously, though, have you ever noticed that Parmigiano-Reggiano can be different colors? At times it's fairly white and insipid looking, and other times it's golden-yellow and quite rich looking. That's all about what the cows were eating at the time, which thus influenced the milk they gave. Think about what happens when you eat asparagus.

Wait, that's not a true parallel and really much more disgusting than I intended. What I'm saying is, think of terroir the way wine makers do. Everything around an animal or human or grape ultimately affects its...output. In the summers, cows eat buttercups and tender green grass which makes their milk golden. In the winters, cows eat hay and stuff and the milk is paler. Many professional eaters and cheesemongers will tell you that there is a distinct difference in taste between cheese from either season. For myself, I've never discerned that much of a difference and neither seems superior to the other. I love them both. The only thing I insist upon when using Parmigiano-Reggiano is that it must be freshly grated. I won't buy green canned or packaged stuff -- there's just a marked difference in taste, texture, and appearance.



ANYWAY, back to Kiku. It's a sumptuous cheese from the folks at Goat's Leap up in St. Helena, CA. Kiku is tangy and bright and can make goat cheese lovers out of even the most skeptical. I particularly love to watch this cheese grow old. Do you see that runny, camembert-ish, edging right near the figs leaf wrapping? As the cheese ages, that beautifully sticky, viscous layer moves in like a weather front across the drier more crumbly part of the cheese and douses it in sharpness that isn't offensive but will certainly wake your tastebuds up in the morning.

The recommended wines with this cheese are Pinot Noir, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Gris, and anything bubbly. Personally, I love it with a rich sherry or a tawny port, but if I must have wine -- and frequently, I must -- I do love it with a comforting glass of Sangiovese.
Title: Chutney chef, McQuade's Celtic Chutneys
Hometown: Glasgow, Scotland

1. How did you get started selling chutney?
One year I made chutney to give away as Christmas presents. It was my grandmother's recipe and I went online to make labels and get jars. I gave some to my hairdresser and she asked me to bring some more over for one of her customers--I thought that was a wee bit cheeky! This was a gift after all. But it turned out she had a tasting going on and her customer was one of the owners of Cowgirl Creamery. My first paying customer, she said she wanted 60 of each flavor.

2. What inspires you in creating chutney?
Cocktails. I was having a Mandarin apricot drink and I thought--that would make a good chutney. Salsas inspire me too.

3.What's the difference between salsa and chutney?
Fresh Indian chutneys are very similar to salsa, but in general it's the vinegar and the maturing that make them chutney. My chutneys are cooked, and I use chunky flavorful fruit. I don't cook them down too much because I want to keep them fresh tasting.

I also like my chutneys to have a bit of bite whether it's jalapeno, habanero, or plain old cayenne. Some have malt vinegar, others have apple cider vinegar or white wine vinegar. I experiment, I even used fish sauce in a chutney once and people liked it.

4. Where do you make your chutney?
In a catering kitchen. I tried working out of an Irish pub and I had to pretend I was Irish. "The Belfast and the Glasgow accent are very similar," that's what I kept telling them anyway! Needless to say I didn't last long there.

5. What are your newest and most popular flavors?
Cranberry Mandarin and a Persimmon one for Christmas. But Fig and Ginger is still most popular, although the Warming Hut out in the Presidio buys tons of the Spiced Apple. My favorite is the Habanero. I like it with scrambled eggs.
I would like to use my time this week to welcome a new website to our Bay Area blog community: Mighty Foods.

This site, focused on "natural foods, organic ingredients, fair-trade products, veg-friendly recipes, sustainable farming, whole grains, organic wines, ingredient spotlights, news, profiles, reviews, gift ideas, new product information, culinary travel ideas, studies and trends -- information and inspiration, all wrapped up in one food-loving bundle," is the brainchild of Heidi Swanson and a small group of writers who make up the "Mighty Staff."

You may know Heidi from her site, 101 Cookbooks, from her book, Cook 1.0: A Fresh Approach to the Vegetarian Kitchen or from her articles for NPR or Edible San Francisco.

Why did you decide to start Mighty Foods?

There are a lot of food producers and manufacturers out there who are taking advantage of consumer trust and 'good faith'. They are selling and promoting products of the lowest conceivable quality -- cheaply produced 'food' derived from poor quality base ingredients. These are products and ingredients that are nutritionally compromised and created in an industrialized production cycle that often includes chemicals, pesticides, hormones, and questionable additives and preservatives. I'm upset about it.

Instead of focusing exclusively on all the horrible things that are going on in the industrialized segment of the American food cycle, we are interested in getting people excited about what is good out there -- delicious whole grains, natural sweeteners, and fresh farm-grown produce -- the Mighty Foods. We want to corral all sorts of information and inspiration about these types of natural foods -- all in one spot.

What type of person would read Mighty Foods?

Someone interested in what they are putting in their body. Someone interested in what their kids are consuming. The site will appeal to the adventurous chef. Also, people who love to cook, who are looking for ways to cook with natural, minimally processed ingredients or people interested in new trends and new products in this segment of the market.

Is this site more for people who are already committed to a natural lifestyle? Or is it also aiming to educate people who haven't taken the step yet toward a less industrialized lifestyle?

On a fundamental level we are interested in food that tastes the best. So, if for example, you have a new, all-natural, oatmeal chocolate-chip cookie that comes on the market and tastes crappy -- no bonus points for trying. There is a wide enough palette of delicious whole ingredients out there that the all-natural cookie should taste better than its refined counterpart.

Hopefully the people who are already interested in a more natural approach to food and cooking will feel right at home, and the people who are just starting to get ideas and information will be inspired.

I think people are beginning to realize its not just as simple as 'don't eat those fries' or choosing products that are free of trans-fats, it is much bigger than that. The building blocks of our everyday cooking are all refined -- the flours, the sugars, the salts, the oils. The recipes in all our cookbooks call for refined, denatured base ingredients, and it just goes on from there.

It's a strong cycle, and will be a tough tide to turn. It's really all about a re-education of the way people shop and cook. We feel like people are open-minded, but they are confused and don't really know where to go of inspiration and direction, heck, we are still confused at times -- we want to help and also learn in the process.

Who is behind Mighty Foods?

Me and a small, talented, collective of people that will probably evolve and change over time - but will most likely remain anonymous. If I could have figured out how to make the site completely anonymous, I probably would have -- I just couldn't figure it out technically.

Blogs in many cases are very personal, Mighty Foods isn't about a single person, or a single person's perspective - I've already got a site like that with 101 Cookbooks. I'm much more interested in exploring the collective at this point - the premise for Mighty Foods lends itself nicely to the power of the collective.

Reindeer repair kits (red hot candies), holiday wreaths of evergreen, handmade arts and crafts, Santas giving neck massages, and of course, baked goods out the wazoo. What am I talking about? My neighbor Heidi's annual Winter Wonderland. Each year, Heidi and a bunch of her friends get together and put on a holiday bazaar. The festivities fill her backyard and spill out onto the sidewalk complete with holiday music and twinkling lights. The Wonderland event is a charity fund-raiser, so each year I donate a bit of my time to bake up a slew of holiday yumminess. Last year it was too many pumpkin and apple pies to count. This year, being a bit more pressed for time, I decided to make my mom's famous pumpkin-brandy bread: quick easy and extra good. This has been a family holiday tradition for as long as I can remember. In the 70s I remember my mom would save metal coffee cans in the garage and each year, pull them out, butter them up, and bake up tall cylinders of the heady, moist bread. Yum!



Mom's Pumpkin-Brandy Bread

4 eggs
2 cups sugar
1 cup br sugar
1 cup oil
2/3 cup brandy
2 cups pumpkin puree (1 15-oz can)
3 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 tablespoons pumpkin pie spice
1 cup chopped toasted nuts (optional)

Preheat oven to 375F. Oil 2 large loaf pans or 3 medium loaf pans.
In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs and sugars. Whisk in the oil, brandy, and pumpkin puree. In a separate mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, baking soda, and pumpkin pie spice. Stir the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. Stir in the nuts (if using). Divide the batter between the loaf pans. Bake in the center of the oven until golden brown, about 45 minutes or until a toothpick just comes out clean. Let cool in the pans on a wire rack for 10 minutes then turn out the breads. Let cool completely before slicing. This bread is great toasted with butter.

When I was young, no sooner would my mother would pull out the pâté (pronounced pah-tay) and I'd run screaming "no liver, no liver" from the room. Thankfully I grew out of that phase, and am not only not running away but blissfully consuming it whenever possible. A friend in town from cooking school wanted to dine at a true French bistro so off we went to La Beurre Noisette in the 15th. You'd be hard pressed to find an American (read: tourist) in there though the wait staff delighted in practicing their English on us. The menu is traditional French bistro fare. Check. Appetizers of Terrine de Canard and Foie Gras. Check, check.

I am often asked about the difference between foie gras (fwa grah), pâté (pah-tay), and terrines (tear-een). Foie gras literally translates to fat (gras) liver (foie). Long regarded as the ultimate culinary luxury, the livers come from specially fattened geese or duck and have been deveined and cooked, most often molded in a log shape then poached in a liqueur such as port or cognac or simply sliced and seared.

Though the practice of force-feeding ducks and geese dates back to Egypt around 400 B.C., chef Jean-Joseph Clause, from France naturellement, is credited for creating pâté de foie gras in 1779. Chef Clause's culinary acumen was admired by King Louis XVI and he received a patent for it in 1784. Quite controversial in today's charged political climate, it has been outlawed in California after 2012...so eat up while you can! :-)

Foie Gras Poché avec Vin Rouge et Épices ~ Foie Gras Poached with Red Wine and Spices and sprinkled with fleur de sel de Geurande (highest quality salt), served with fig compote, toasted baguette.

(My apologies for the poor picture quality. My camera, like most mass transit systems here, decided to go on strike for no apparent reason...)



Pâtés and terrines on the other hand incorporate foie gras or regular livers along with many other ingredients. There is little difference between the two and they are often interchanged. Pâté en croute (on kroot), pâté en terrine or simply pâté or terrine. More rustic, country fare, they are served with toasted pain de campagne (pan de kom-pine, country bread) and cornichons (those tiny pickles) or a tangy chutney to counter the richness.

But first, what is pâté? Pâté derives from the word pâte (pronounced pot, means dough in French) which refers to the pastry crust they were baked in and is basically a mixture of seasoned ground meat, seafood or vegetables, and often a combination of several different base ingredients. Beef, pork, liver, ham, seafood, wild game, poultry, and vegetables all make delicious pâtés. The goal is to create a contrast in textures and flavors.

Terrine de Canard au Poivre Vert ~ Duck Terrine with Green Pepper, served with toasted pain de campagne and cornichons on the side



Originally called pâté en croute (in crust), they are cooked in brick shaped loaf pans or terrines, hence the name, and the main ingredient determines the name. For example, terrine de canard will be predominantly duck or pâté de gibier will contain mostly wild game. The French consider both lean and fat pork to be essential to a successful terrine and the fat content (usually pork fat back) recommended is, hold onto your thighmasters, a whopping 30% of the total weight. Don't expect to find it on the South Beach Diet any time soon...

Pâté is one of the most versatile dishes imaginable, aside from the incredible, edible egg. It takes a bit of time and effort to make though probably not as much as you'd first think and well worth the effort in the end. Bon Appetit!

Terrine de Campagne ~ Country Pâté



Remember to treat the different ingredients separately so that they maintain their distinct texture and taste. If you combined and ground everything together, you'd basically have meatloaf...and we certainly couldn't charge 12 euros ($15) for a slice of meatloaf...nor would it have the same je ne sais quoi!

• ¼ lb chicken livers, ground finely
• ½ lb pork shoulder, ground finely
• ¼ lb pork fat back, ground finely
• ¼ lb skinless chicken breast, ground finely

• ½ lb pork shoulder, coarsely chopped

• ¼ lb pork fat back, cut in fine dice, ¼ inch
• ¼ lb ham, cut into ½ inch dice
• ½ cup pistachio nuts, shelled

• 6 cloves garlic, finely chopped into a paste
• 2 shallots or 1 small onion, finely diced
• 1 tablespoon marjoram, chopped
• 1 tablespoon thyme, chopped

• 1 tablespoon salt
• 2 teaspoons fresh ground pepper
• ½ cup cognac
• ½ cup port

• ½ bunch flat leaf parsley, leaves finely chopped
• sheet of caul fat or cheese cloth
• bay leaves

1. heat oven to 325F (165C / #5).

2. sauté the chicken livers on extra virgin olive oil over high heat until cooked to medium.

3. take out the livers and add the shallots, garlic, marjoram and thyme to the pan and cook until translucent.

4. combine with the ingredients 2 through 4 and grind finely.

5. in a large bowl, combine cognac, port, salt, pepper.

6. add in finely ground mixture, coarsely chopped pork shoulder, diced pork fat back and ham, pistachio nuts, parsley and mix thoroughly so all ingredients are distributed evenly.

7. line a terrine with caul fat (or cheese cloth in a pinch) and fill with the mixture.

8. lay bay leaves on top of the mixture (see top picture) and wrap the caul fat or cheese cloth over the meat.

9. cook in a hot water bath but don't allow the water to boil as it will toughen then meat. the goal is to gently cook it so the meat doesn't shrink. cook until the terrine has an internal temperature of 140-150F (60-65C).

10. set terrine aside and let cool.

11. put a weight on top of the terrine (a few can of soup work well) and place in the fridge to chill.

12. slice and serve with toasted country bread and cornichons or a tangy chutney.

Bon appetit!

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La Beurre Noisette
68 rue Vasco de Gama
75015 Paris, France
+33 (0)1 48 56 82 49
Metro: #8 Lourmel

I am highly suggestible.

How so? Well, after my third viewing of the third episode of Check, Please Bay Area (Okay, before you judge me as being an obsessive TV-watcher, the first viewing was just me, the second was me and my husband, and the third was me, my husband, and my mother-in-law, who proclaimed the show to be intensely interesting and a great idea, so D.C.-area PBS, are you listening?), I got the worst craving for Isa.

My mother-in-law was in town for the holidays and we had already arranged for her to stay in the Marina at the Hotel del Sol. Let me tell you, if I wasn't already convinced when our Boston friends stayed there two years ago, I'm certainly convinced now: Hotel del Sol has to be the best Bay Area hotel/motel ever. It's a remodeled motorlodge from the fifties and it's just, well...incredibly cheerful! The hotel energetically painted in sunny, primary colors, it has giant palm trees and hammocks in the nicely-paved parking lot-cum-courtyard, the rooms are color coordinated with the exterior and probably decorated with IKEA stuff, AND they have a pillow library. A PILLOW LIBRARY!

Basically, if you don't like your pillow, you pull out the handy-dandy hotel information binder and decide, "Hm, the 'Sacked Out' stuffed with goose down? Or the 'Dreamweaver' with buckwheat?" and then you order whichever of the ten or so pillows strikes your sandman fancy. There is also a video library (they have VCRS in the rooms) which includes a ton of movies that were shot in San Francisco. You've got your Mrs. Doubtfire, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Vertigo, Nine Months and a bunch of others. Give them time, and I'm sure they'll stock up on the complete seasons of Full House. See the Olsen Twins before Ashley ate Mary Kate! Or maybe it was the other way around.

My mother-in-law was happy to report that the morning coffee at Hotel del Sol was exceptionally good -- Blue Bottle, maybe? -- and that she loved how bright and attractive everything was. She was particularly impressed by how one of the walls in her room was painted spring green, the other three were a warm goldenrod, and the bathroom was a dull red. I'm telling you, the people at Hotel del Sol definitely have it going on with the details, right down to the glazed, mosaic room number plaques on the doors and the fairy lights twining up the gently bending palm trees. I know this column is supposed to be about food, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't give Hotel del Sol some major props. It's such a happy place. Plus, it sort of has something to do with food if you consider that we found Isa to be such a good idea because it was within easy walking distance of the hotel.



With the exception of the lamb chops and a salad, we had a major seafood fest at Isa.We started with the arugula and fennel salad. It came with meaty cubes of persimmon (something I'd been dying to try since Shuna's post. See? Suggestible.), pomegranate seeds, and thin shavings of Parmigiano-Reggiano. It was so delicious that I had to recreate it in my own kitchen tonight. The only difference was I was fresh out of Parmigiano-Reggiano, so I subbed in some Manchego d'Oro.

Our next two courses were the grilled honey-spiced calamari with flageolet beans, arugula, and lemon zest, and the roasted tiger prawns with lemon, braised, fennel, olives, and tomato. My god. The calamari? Best I've ever had. As much as I love to sample the deep-fried variety wherever I go, I would be happy to eat this sweetened grilled version for the rest of my natural born life. The squid was tender and smokey without being the least bit tough or mushy. I'm going back for a double order of that. By comparison, the roasted prawns were not as interesting. They were cooked nicely, but the rest of the stuff that came with them didn't have a whole lot of flavor.

Next out was the Halibut à la Plancha with segments of orange, tiny cubings of crunchy radish, and blushing Chioggia beets. Everything had the lightest coat of champagne vinegar. I love halibut any day of the week but this particular treatment was so light and refreshing that you could taste every pure flavor shining through.

Of course we had to order the signature potato-wrapped sea bass with brown butter, capers, lemon, and parsley, and OF COURSE it was amazing. The potato casing was so thin you could see right through the slices. I know this for a fact because I tried it. Did I mention we also had a nice bottle of wine? The sea bass meat was dense, succulent, and, I swear, you could have told me it was lobster tail and I would have believed you.

Since lamb is my absolute favorite of all the bloody meats, we also ordered the roasted rack with zucchini and red pepper. They didn't even ask us how we wanted it done. Why? Because they knew exactly how it needed to be done. It was a perfect medium-rare.

On the side of all this protein, we ordered a dish of sautéed pea shoots with garlic, and I'm getting kind of exhausted by my raptures here, but it can't be helped -- it was another superb dish. One of the reviewers at Check, Please! Bay Area said that Isa had "explosive flavors" and he was right. Put me down as a devoted fan.

I'm going back for that Dungeness crab salad just as soon as I can be totally certain I'm eating local crabs.