From Tricycle Press, that little imprint of our very own Berkeley-based Ten Speed Press, comes the World Snack Series, a cheerful set of children's board books about sweet and savory treats enjoyed around the world.

Author and illustrator Amy Wilson Sanger provides both the books' sing-song text and the artful, colorful sculptures that grace their pages. Adults and children alike will love the parade of scrumptious snacks: cha siu bao, bhel puri, tamales, hamentaschen, little polpetini, and even temaki with uni roe. One of my favorite lines, from Yum Yum Dim Sum, sent me straight to the closest teahouse: “Why, oh why, my little sui mai, why do I love you so?”



Sanger's sculptures are exquisitely detailed yet retain magic and imagination. Flour on the handle of the pasta roller? Check. Translucent beads of flying fish roe? Check. Little snips of tree mushrooms in the dumpling filling? Check. Hand-stitched tofu? Of course. Occasional beans and sesame seeds cross the pages to add real-life dimension, but for the most part, Sanger depends on the transformation of paper and cloth to create amazingly mouth-watering renditions of favorite foods.

I have four of the six titles published so far, and though I keep promising myself that I'll hand them off soon to worthy tots, I must confess they're still in my possession. They were supposed to go into the emergency gift box--yes, my friends' kids' birthdays have been accruing at a startling rate--but I have a feeling that these books are heading soon to one of my own shelves. I'm especially looking forward to the seventh in the series, Chaat and Sweets, that will be released later this spring (May 2008).



What appeals to me, as the "California aunt" in my family, is the matter-of-fact approach to such a widely diverse table. There's an emphasis on foods that one might find in take-out and at restaurants, particularly noticeable in First Book of Sushi and Hola Jalapeno. Still, this series as a whole stands head and shoulders above other multi-culti children's books about the world of food. There's no preachy agenda between the lines, and dishes aren't presented as the newly discovered, unfamiliar foods of other families. (Read Everyone Cooks Rice for a well-intentioned, first-generation example of both of these shortcomings.)

The back covers of most of the books in the World Snack Series provide helpful pronunciation glossaries for parents who may not have grown up tying tamales or rolling maki themselves. While some may roll their eyes at the thought of cultivating pint-sized gourmands--with miso in their sippy cups and salsa on their bibs--I for one consider this another wonderful step forward in the long, pot-holed road to incorporating international flavors with neither condescension nor wide-eyed wonder.

Labels: books, children, thy tran

On display through the wonderful internets are hundreds upon thousands of photographs of everyday lunches. No soggy PB&J's here, though. One forum, the Mr. Bento Porn Flickr group, posts their collective creative efforts to make mid-day meals visually appealing, healthful, delicious and, yes, a little easier on the wallet. Their cousin site, Diet Bento, includes impressively low calorie counts for those whose 2008 resolutions (for now at least) include trimming down a little of their own belly fat.



Portable meals have been with us for as long as farmers have trudged off to their fields and soldiers have marched on in war. The Japanese took it a little further, of course. Where other countries preferred banana leaves or woven baskets, Japanese al fresco diners preferred compartmentalized boxes. By the 17th century, bento meals became elaborately arranged celebrations of the full moon and cherry blossoms, a leisurely way to enjoy intermission with friends at the theatre or, like the older form of sushi, essential food for travelers in an age before planes and bullet trains.

Fast forward to the 20th century for aluminum tins, insulated containers, microwaveable cups and, last but not least, those brightly colored, plastic Hello Kitty boxes that accompany kids to school. Adult versions abound, too, although Ichiban Kan's bento aisle seems pretty well populated by over-twenty-somethings. For those who want to pack with style, Plastica offers a sleek, stackable set in elegant colors.



Japan is not the only country with distinctive lunch boxes. Vietnam has its aluminum ca men that families carry every morning to the market to pick up breakfast, a different soup in each of the layers prepared exactly as each person prefers. The beautifully painted enamel tins of Malaysia are collectors' items, while in India, no-nonsense tiffin boxes show wonder less in their appearance than in their amazing daily travels from home to office and back again.

In Japan, there are nearly 500 magazines dedicated to showing parents (read: mothers) how to pack lunches that will entice and impress. The proper order to place in the elements, the proper balance of color and flavors, the proper container for the right food, the secret to making flowers and hamsters and their favorite manga characters out of edible delights: childrens' meals are no less subject to codification and over-the-top creativity than anything else the Japanese do.

A few English-language books attempt to translate the techniques as well as the art of bento. Some designs would only appeal to an obsessive artist with lots of free time, but many are simple and worth trying. It's a good way to get the kids involved the night before. Lay out some ingredients, flip to a fun photo and suddenly packing lunch becomes a game. Two titles to check out are Bento Boxes: Japanese Meals on the Go for a how-to guide and Face Food: The Visual Creativity of Japanese Bento Boxes for an aesthetic treatment of the topic.



Another good resource is Biggie's Lunch in A Box site, where parents will find excellent suggestions for getting their kids off to school with good food. She has hints that acknowledge the need for speed in addition to the desire to make lunch and snacks both healthy and fun.

Like with most good habits, packing meals for lunch requires practice and foresight at first, then as the regimen settles into a comfortable part of your day and week, merely some momentary foresight during weekend shopping and prep. Simple tips include washing and cutting your vegetables ahead of time, freezing food in smaller batches and learning to pack more flavor than bulk.

And if you just want to have a cute lunchbox without the work, well, they do make excellent take-out containers. Buy one with straps or handles to carry to your favorite deli counter and do your part to cut back on disposable ware.

Labels: asian food, books, children, diet, history, Japanese, school lunch, thy tran

(photo by Kevin Rosseel)

The San Francisco Professional Food Society, the Asia Society and the Chinese Culture Center have all joined forces to tackle a question that lingers, like a greasy smog, over Chinese restaurants:

Why is Chinese food so bad in the US?

Four experts will discuss the topic this coming week in an event geared toward saavy travelers, frustrated diners and nostalgic expats alike. Nicole Mones, author of the novels Lost in Translation as well as the more recent and relevant The Last Chinese Chef, will join Martin Yan, that infamous TV chef, who is now atoning for his can-cook approach by establishing an eponymous Culinary Arts Center in the Middle Kingdom itself. He hopes to teach American chefs how to cook real Chinese food. Rounding out the panel are Albert Cheng, former president of the Chinese Culture Center, and Alexander Ong, chef at Betelnut Restaurant. Olivia Wu will moderate what promises to be a lively discussion.

New York diners have already considered the question more deeply than we easy-going West Coasters. Nina and Tim Zagat's opinion piece in the New York Times listed access to ingredients and immigration policies as key factors. Mones herself compared Eastern and Western culinary preferences, recipes included, in her attempt to soften the question of why Chinese food in America is still in such a sorry state. Continuing the debate, the New York Daily News suggested that a thriving economy and well-heeled diners in China means chefs can enjoy a better living by staying in their homeland rather than sweating it out. How many creative chefs want to leave their families to sling kung pao and mu shu and yet another order of potstickers when their compatriots appreciate innovative flavors and, more importantly, are willing to pay for them?

If you can't make the event but would like to taste a bit of the controversy for yourself, visit the SFPFS event announcement: they list several restaurants in San Francisco Chinatown recommended by the speakers.

The Future of Chinese Cuisine in the U.S.
Wednesday, January 23
6:00-8:30 pm
Chinese Culture Center of San Francisco
750 Kearny Street, between Clay and Washington
Third floor, San Francisco Financial District Hilton Hotel
$25 Members (SFPFS or Asia Society)
$35 Guests

Visit the SFPFS website for details and registration.

Labels: asian food, books, chinese, events, thy tran

This Thursday, InsideStoryTime will kick off its 2008 series of literary readings with a food-themed evening. Yours truly will join four other local writers: Julia Flynn Siler, Ron Saxen, Cameron Heffernan and my ramen king friend, Andy Raskin.

Stop by Delirium and make your way to the back room to listen to our stories about the weird, beautiful ways food flavors our lives.

Until then, here's a taste of what I'll be sharing:



Egg

You will hear a chick’s first cries long before you see it. Exactly 21 days after being laid, while still tightly curled within its shell, the chick begins to voice its unhappiness. Its last reserves of food have been absorbed; its protective shell is now cramped and dry. The first peeps rise from the egg weakly, intermittently, then through the day they grow more frequent and insistent. The egg flicks ever so slightly from side to side as the bird within struggles to stretch its wings. Hours later, a crack appears, the first sign of external pipping. Then the crack becomes a breathing hole, the breathing hole becomes a window, and the window opens wide enough for a head to push through. Finally, the shell cracks in half.

If all goes well -- if the temperature never varies from 100 degrees, if the humidity is not less than 65 percent, if the egg is not touched or moved, if the chick’s head is positioned correctly at the large end and not at the small, if it has enough energy, and if other chicks nearby cry out enough reassurance and motivation -- a wet, limp creature falls out. The entire process requires twenty-four hours, though the progress appears in idiosyncratic spurts. Each chick decides for itself if it wants to wait quietly before bursting forth in a few spectacular minutes. Or if it prefers a steady, plodding pace of birth.

Some chicks, of course, do not survive the stress of emerging from their shell. It’s hard work, and no one else can help. Its mother can only sit quietly above, keeping it warm. Humans must resist the urge to peel back a tip of shell or to turn the egg, with the best of intentions, so the poor chick can see the world upright. One must not assist except in the most dire circumstances, difficult to judge when wetness and blood and destruction are natural elements of the hatching. Some hatchers are able to look away as the chick dies, insisting that if it can’t fight its way out of its own shell, it won’t be strong enough for the rigors of life ahead....


(Photo by Mark Miller)

Frog Hunting

Once the summer sun has set, my mother can begin catching frogs. Standing next to her kitchen door, she pulls on thick socks and heavy-soled clogs. In one hand she grasps a flashlight, and with the other, she pulls a long, narrow, transparently blue plastic bag saved from the morning’s delivery of the Kansas City Star. Outside her home, a few hundred paces to the south, she arrives at her pond. Stepping softly along its muddy banks, she listens for the deep, throaty calls of the bullfrogs. Jug-o-rum, jug-o-rum, jug-o-rum. They will continue their chorus throughout the night, filling the humid air with their reassuring vibrations and the occasional, watery plop! of surprise.

To kill a frog, like the killing of any animal, is routine for those who live next to their food, though perhaps unimaginable for those who call their meat by another name. One fearless swipe of the cleaver will sever head immediately from body. Two quick nicks trim the fingers and toes down past their webbing, and a final slash along the backbone readies the skin for removal. Here, a cloth or a pair of pliers is useful: catch a firm grip on the edge of the skin and pull back toward the legs in one firm, smooth rip. Like a diver from a scuba suit, the frog’s lean, muscular body emerges pale and shimmering....


InsideStoryTime
Thursday, January 17, 2008
7 - 9 pm
Delirium
3139 16th Street (btwn Valencia & Guerrero)
San Francisco, CA 94103
(415) 552-5525
view map

Labels: books, events, thy tran

While on vacation in Hawaii I did not indulge in one of my addictions, watching food programs on TV. In fact, I watched very little TV at all on my trip. Vacation is my big chance to catch up on my reading. This time around I brought two books I had received review copies of--Best Food Writing 2007 and Service Included. I was thrilled to see that my friend and Bay Area Bites colleague Shuna Fish Lydon was included in the book. Past Bay Area Bites writers to make the cut include both Catherine Nash and Stephanie Lucianovic. The book seems to be equal parts angst and humor with some thoughtful and sentimental pieces thrown In for good measure. It's a good vacation read, and provides an interesting snapshot of the food issues and obsessions of the day. Some of my favorite pieces were Cast Iron Skillet by Andrea King Collier, and A Grandchild of Italy Cracks the Spaghetti Code by Kim Severson.

The other book I read Service Included, is really a gem. It gives us the flipside to Bill Buford's Heat. It's the story of being a waiter at Per Se in New York. Phoebe Damrosch is a fantastic writer with humor, wit and a great sense of irony. She is brutally honest about just about everything, herself included. Throughout the saga of the opening of Per Se in New York are little tidbits about service and how to be a good diner. The book reads like a guilty pleasure. I have even less desire to be a waiter than to be a chef, but to be a fly on the wall is just plain yummy.

Labels: amy sherman, books, catherine nash, shuna lydon, stephanie v.w. lucianovic

In the James Beard award-winning book A Thousand Years Over A Hot Stove, Laura Schenone told the stories of American women, primarily through food and recipes. Her latest book is a more personal memoir, The Lost Ravioli Recipes of Hoboken A Search for Food and Family.

I haven't read the whole book yet, but I can tell you that in addition to the recipes and stories about ravioli there are also stories about family, cooking, mystery, romance, Italy, ghosts and much more...

Book Passage is hosting a dinner with Laura Schenone where you'll enjoy a feast of ravioli and other Ligurian specialities at Farina Focaccaia Restaurant.

Sunday November 11th at 5:00 pm
Farina Restaurant
3560 18th St
San Francisco

Chef Paulo Laboa will demonstrate how to make ravioli in the Ligurian style and Laura will share stories and probably a few cooking tips. The menu sounds perfect for ravioli-lovers!

APERTIVO
Assortimento di focacce Liguri
assortment of Ligurian focaccia with stracchino cheese, with cherry tomato

served with a glass of Vermentino

PRIMO PIATTO
Ravioli alla genovese con tocco
Hand made ravioli filled with veal served with Genovese meat sauce

Ravioli di carciofi alla maggiorana
Hand made ravioli filled with artichoke served in a marjoram sauce

Ravioli di zucca al burro e salvia
Hand made ravioli filled with pumpkin served in a sage and butter sauce

Misticanza di campo con scaglie di pecorino
Red bib and little gem salad with shaved pecorino cheese and balsamic vinegar

DOLCE
Raviolo dolce alla Ligure
House made sweet ravioli with ricotta cheese

$105/person or $180/couple
(includes wine, tax, gratuity and an autographed copy of The Lost Ravioli Recipes of Hoboken) Reserve tickets.

Labels: amy sherman, books, ravioli, restaurants

This week I scored big. In addition to finishing off a pint of burnt caramel ice cream I found a dusty but still strongly bound first edition of Laughter on the Hill, a book about a young woman who moved to San Francisco alone in the winter of 1940.


(Grandmothers, 1955. Courtesy of San Francisco Public Library.

For others who have adopted this city as their home, who have looked over the Bay and its bridges with awe, lived in a drafty dump of a flat that's very well stocked with wine, or danced in the streets with strangers, this memoir will also strike a chord. It reminded me of other books that capture a special, specific time in the City's history.

For a taste of San Francisco in years past...




Recollections of California: 1846-1881
by General William T. Sherman

During the spring of 1848, as reports of gold began transforming the City, young William Tecumseh Sherman was still stationed under General Kearny in California. Later in his life, he remembered accompanying Governor Mason from San Francisco to Santa Cruz on one particularly difficult journey.

The house was of adobe, with a long range of adobe-huts occupied by semi-civilized Indians, who at that time did all the labor of a ranch, the herding and marking of cattle, breaking of horses, and cultivating the little patches of wheat and vegetables which constituted all the farming of that day. Every thing about the house looked deserted, and, seeing a small Indian boy leaning up against a post, I approached him and asked in Spanish, "Where is the master?" "Gone to the Presidio" (Monterey). "Is anybody in the house?" "No." "Is it locked up?" "Yes." "Is no one about who can get in?" "No." "Do you have any meat?" "No." "Any flour or grain?" "No." "Any chickens?" "No." "Any eggs?" "No." "What do you live on?" "Nada" (nothing). The utter indifference of this boy and the tone of his "Nada" attracted the attention of Colonel Mason, who had been listening to our conversation, and who knew enough of Spanish to catch the meaning, and he exclaimed with some feeling, "So we get nada for breakfast." I felt mortified, for I had held out the prospect of a splendid breakfast of meat and tortillas with rice, chicken, eggs, etc., at the ranch of my friend Jose Antonio, as a justification for taking the Governor, a man of sixty years of age, more than twenty miles at a full canter for his breakfast. But there was no help for it, and we accordingly went a short distance to a pond, where we unpacked our mules and made a slim breakfast on scraps of hard bread and a bone of pork that remained in our alforjas.




Joe Tilden's Recipes for Epicures
by Major Joseph Tilden (Sequoia Press, 1907)

Back when celery was a rare and refined delicacy, displaying its long green stalks in a crystal celery vase was a mark of high society. The tenderest, palest stalks would appear in a creamy soup. This version comes from the kitchen of San Francisco's self-proclaimed Bohemian and epicurean, Joe Tilden.

Celery Soup

Boil one small cupful of rice in three pints of milk, or two pints of milk and one of cream, until it is tender. Then rub it through a sieve and add one quart of veal stock, salt, cayenne, and three heads of celery (the white stalks only) which have been previously grated. Boil until the celery is tender.




Laughter on the Hill: A San Francisco Interlude
by Margaret Parton (McGraw-Hill, 1945)

This slim volume recounts the quintessential San Francisco experience: the ripeness of youth, rebellion amidst soul-searching, parties with poets and much, much red wine. Before she became a reporter and correspondent for the New York Herald Tribune, Parton lived for a year in a tiny, walk-up on Telegraph Hill.

It was autumn now in San Francisco, and wine-making time on the Hill. As I walked down Union Street toward the streetcar I could smell the purple grapes hanging rich and heavy in the hidden arbors behind the bare white fronts of the Italian flats. Great wooden barrels, scoured for the wine to come, began to appear in front of every doorstep, and one day there was the stained old wine press starting its yearly journey from the houses at the top of the Hill down to the late harvesters at the bottom. Each day as I passed it would be moved a little farther down, its heady smell mingling with the warm air from the basement bakeries, the odors of Provolone, salami, and black olives from the dim Italian groceries, the acid reek of the dark, male-frequented alleys, the salt wind from the Pacific.




This is San Francisco: A Classic Portrait of the City
by Robert O'Brien (Whittlesey House, 1948)

For catching the City in its many moods, there's no better than Robert O'Brien's street-by-street study. He trained his eyes and ears onto the quirky characters who flocked to the "City of Second Chances," and his book, recently reprinted, remains one of the best portraits we have of the City.

Cross Broadway, and you leave behind the kingdom of chow mein and jow won ton and jasmine tea, and enter the realm of ravioli. The vowels you hear now are soft and liquid, and the music is something from La Tosca.

In fact, a step from the corner of Grant Avenue and Broadway is a cafe called "La Tosca." Scenes from the opera are painted on the walls; Caruso sings from the juke box, and you drink a cappuccino, gray, like the robe of a capuchin monk, and made of chocolate that is laced with brandy or rum, and heated by steam forced through coffee.

This is a world of round brovolette cheeses hanging in store windows, and garlic sausage, and capretti at Easter time. Of the lovely smells of baking bread coming from ovens beneath the sidewalk, of picturesque and brightly colored family washings on clotheslines strung high over narrow alleys, of flowers in window boxes and canaries singing. Of Tony's Shaving Parlor, and the Panama Canal Tagliarini and Noodle Factory and the Roma Macaroni Factory. Of steep lanes on the side of Telegraph Hill, and fat Italian housewives leaning on the their window sills and laughing in the sunshine, and wiry Italian boys playing ball in the street.




The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook
by Alice B. Toklas (Harper & Row, 1954)

After settling comfortably for years in France, Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas returned to the U.S. for a lecture tour that stretched from New York to California. They weren't impressed with what they ate during much of their journey across the nation but were delighted at last to reach the West Coast. (I've been searching for the tarte Chambord recipe for years, so if anyone knows how to make it, drop me a line!)

In San Francisco, we indulged in gastronomic orgies--sand dabs meuniere, rainbow trout in aspic, grilled soft-shell crabs, paupieres of roast fillets of pork, eggs Rossini and tarte Chambord. The tarte Chambord had been a specialty of one of the three great French bakers before the San Francisco fire. To my surprise in Paris no one had ever heard of it.

At Fisherman's Wharf we waited for two enormous crabs to be cooked in a cauldron on the side-walk, and they were still quite warm when we ate them at lunch in Napa Country. Gertrude Atherton took us to lunch at a restaurant were the menu consisted entirely of the most perfectly cooked shell-fish, to her club where the cooking was incredibly good, and to dinner at a club of writers where conversation excelled.




The Silent Traveler in San Francisco
by Chiang Yee (W.W. Norton, 1964)

This is one in a long series of books written and illustrated by Yee as he explored cities throughout Europe and the U.S.

The crab-sellers of San Francisco's Fishermen's Wharf offer a sharp contrast to my mind from the lobster-seller in Bar Harbor and all the coastal towns of the State of Maine. There every lobster is kept alive as long as possible and there is no sign of any being cooked on the spot. It is the general belief that a lobster should be eaten straight after being cooked, for it tastes best then. Does not this belief extend to crabs? Or perhaps crabs cannot live out of the sea for long? The most puzzling point for me is that Crabdom seems to lie in the bottom of the Pacific around the west coast covering San Francisco while Lobsterdom (if any) is in that part of the Atlantic covering the New England States. The Chinese proverb "Pai wen pu yu yi chien" or "Hearing (about a thing) a hundred times is not better than seeing it once" proves true. Had I not been in both places I should not have realised the existence of these separate kingdoms. Crabdom and Lobsterdom!

...

Eating a whole freshly-cooked lobster or crab, though some small forks are usually provided, involves some action with the fingers from time to time, which in turns involves "table manners." This brings to my mind many little problems concerning Chinese eating manners....We Chinese have two definite styles of eating: formal eating and eating for pleasure. At a banquet it is all formality and good manners; at other times we just enjoy ourselves, and then there is no question of etiquette. That is why some of the typically Chinese restaurants in San Francisco have a number of partitioned rooms, unlike the modern fashionable restaurant with many tables neatly arranged all together. Within these partitions, one can enjoy a meal with one's friends, and eat as unconventionally as one likes without being criticized. Unfortunately this kind of typical Chinese restaurant with partitioned rooms is beginning to disappear even in San Francisco.

Labels: books, California, history, North Beach, restaurants, san francisco, thy tran, tourists

Summer reading should be pleasant fare. Though I had found perverse comfort earlier this season in Barbara Tuchman's A Distant Mirror-- the wars and epidemics of our own century seem paltry when compared to the Hundred Years' War and Bubonic Plague of the 14th-- I felt that, just perhaps, I should read something slightly more upbeat; something that didn't cause me to frequently check myself for lice, fleas or imaginary buboes. Something fun. Something food-related.

I was saved from reading MFK Fisher's The Art of Eating for the 17th time when Ian Jackman's Eat This: 1,001 Things to Eat Before You Diet fell into my hot --and mercifully plague-free-- little hands.

Jackman spent two years writing about and several more eating his way through farmers markets, hot dog stands, panaderias and testicle festivals-- and any place else that serves up food in this country. The result is an entertaining, mind-blowing catalogue of regional American food traditions and obsessions.

Eat This satisfies my criteria for pleasant fare-- something I can pick up and put down, jumping from chapter to chapter without getting lost. Though not a comprehensive work (which is impossible be given the expanse of this country, so don't cry about the omission of scuppernongs), it is a work of astonishing breadth, fascinating food facts and inspiration for many a future food hajj.

When I first flipped through these 382 pages of information, I was overcome with regret that no one ever uttered the words "road trip" to me. Not once. "Vegas" was about as far as it went, and culinary adventure was not the motivation behind that utterance. As I browsed further, skipping about between chapters in Part One: Eating In that seem organized like sections in a supermarket, I came across bits of food history I could relate to-- my father's fascination with Tastykakes in the Bakery chapter, my aunt's penchant for feeding her dog on Chateaubriand while the rest of us ate pasta in Meat.

Part Two: Eating Out is crammed with information not only on what to eat and where to eat it but, for example and (to me) much more fascinating, how a national dish such as the hamburger varies from region to region. A Sloppy Joe-like Dynamite? Go to Rhode Island. Butter Burger? Try Solly's Grill in Madison, Wisconsin. I'll need to ask my Madison contact about that one.

The bits of trivia Jackman picked up along the way are filling up the few remaining parts of my brain as yet unsaturated with useless information, which suits me just fine. From Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation, Jackman shares a wonderfully creepy burger fact:

Q: Which two American institutions were founded in San Bernadino, California, in 1948?
A: McDonald's and The Hell's Angels.

If you tell me that information isn't going to slip out of your mouth at the next barbecue you attend, I won't believe you.

Of course, for every one item I've tasted or place I've visited (or worked at, for that matter-- four are mentioned in this book), there are 20 listed that I haven't-- a fact I regard with hope rather than frustration. Pancakes at the Original Pantry in Los Angeles? Check. Hungarian Hot Dogs at Tony Packo's in Toledo, Ohio? On my to do list. My friend Gary's family is Hungarian and from Ohio. I've heard the stories, I've seen the photos. Jackman's credibility rating shot way up when I read that. Not that he needs my approval.

In a country I have often viewed (from my cultural bubble of San Francisco) as alarmingly homogenized, where the lingua franca has been peppered with phrases like super-sized and non-fat venti, Eat This simply proves that there are still a lot of lumps in the American Melting Pot. Thank God.

As I step up the planning of my impending holiday in Greece next month, my thoughts are already turning to the next trip. I'm thinking somewhere more exotic. Like Vienna, Georgia. I've never been to the Big Pig Jig Barbecue Contest. I smell a road trip coming on but, this time, I won't wait around for someone to utter those words to me. I'll say them myself.

Labels: books, eat this, ian jackman, michael procopio, reviews

I met Ruta Kahate at an Asia Society's Off the Menu dinner a few months back. I had just received a review copy of her book, 5 Spices, 50 Dishes and was eager to try some recipes. Even better, that night I got to try a dish from the book, prepared by the author herself. The theme of the evening was Asian food myth-busting and there wasn't a better candidate for the job that Kahate.

"Indian food is hard to prepare and time consuming"
"Indian food uses tons of spices and everything is hot!"
"Indians don't eat meat, especially not beef"

Busted, busted, busted. In one dish, she showed how false each of those assertions are. The dish was a curry called Indian Brown Beef Stew and it has only three spices in it, along with fresh garlic and ginger. "Curry" just means a dish with sauce, though some curries can be on the drier side too. The dish is oniony and satisfying. It takes a little over an hour to make, but most of that is unattended. Special skills required to make it? None.

Last night I made yet another recipe from the book, Spicy Eggplant with Tomatoes and I was struck by how forgiving Kahate is, she inspires her readers to take on her recipes and at the same time grants them wide berth to alter her recipes to their taste. I admit I skimped on the cayenne, but otherwise wouldn't suggest changing a thing. A perfect Summer dish when your kitchen is overflowing with tomatoes and eggplants, it makes for a great vegetarian or a light-on-meat meal. In fact, many of the dishes in her book are stir fry and "one pot" meals. There are also salads, rice dishes, and even a couple of desserts.

Kahate's recipes are not necessarily the kinds of things you'll find in restaurants and that's a good thing. Cook the way Indians cook at home and you'll discover how easy it is to integrate Indian flavors into your own kitchen. The book is filled with tips and tricks for getting the most out of your efforts.

An important lesson I learned from the book is that turmeric is not just for color. Fresh turmeric really does add an earthy flavor that is key to a myriad of dishes. Replace your turmeric with some fresh stuff and you'll see what I mean. After stocking up on the 5 spices--coriander seeds, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, ground cayenne and ground turmeric, you'll find the rest of the ingredients at any supermarket. Indian food doesn't mean a trip to an exotic market. Poof! Another myth busted.

Indian Brown Beef Stew

This is what you would call an "everyday" meat curry in India. It's simple to put together but you'll need to simmer the beef for about an hour until tender. Indians accomplish this in approximately one-third that time with a pressure cooker--an indispensable tool in every Indian kitchen. If you have a pressure cooker you inherited from Grandma, dust it off and put it to work; this curry would be ready in a mere twenty minutes. If you favor carrots over potatoes, feel free to substitute them.

3 tablespoons canola oil
1 large yellow onion, finely chopped (about 2 cups)
2 tablespoons coriander seeds, finely ground
2 teaspoons finely grated garlic (about 4 large cloves)
1 teaspoon finely grated fresh ginger (about 2-inch piece)
1 teaspoon cayenne
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 pound beef sirloin, cut into 1-inch square pieces
2 cups water
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 large russet potatoes (about 1 pound), cut into 2-inch cubes
1 medium green serrano chile, cut lengthwise in quarters
1 tablespoon rice vinegar or apple cider vinegar

Heat the oil in a large stockpot and saute the onion until golden. Add the coriander, garlic, ginger, cayenne, and turmeric and stir over medium heat until browned, about 4 minutes. Deglaze the pan by adding a few tablespoons of water and using a spatula to loosen the browned bits, if the mixture starts sticking to the bottom.

Add the beef and saute over medium heat until well browned, 5 to 10 minutes. Add the 2 cups water and salt and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook, covered, for 1 hour. Add the potatoes and chile and continue cooking until the beef and potatoes are tender, another 15 to 20 minutes.

Add the vinegar, simmer for an additional 2 minutes, and remove from the heat. Serve hot with crusty bread or steamed white rice.

Serves 4

Recipe from 5 Spices, 50 Dishes, Simple Indian Recipes Using Five Common Spices by Ruta Kahate Photographs by Susie Cushner, Chronicle Books, 2007

Labels: amy sherman, books, indian food, ruta kahate

Nicole Mones reads an excerpt from The Last Chinese Chef on KQED's Writer's Block.

The Last Chinese Chef chronicles food writer, Maggie McElroy's journey to China one year after the untimely death of her husband. A paternity claim has been filed against her husband's estate and the question surfaces whether her husband fathered a child while he was working in Beijing. While Maggie plans her China trip to unravel the truth about her husband she is offered the opportunity to profile a rising star chef, Sam Liang. This culinary distraction turns into a life-changing healing experience.

Nicole Mones is the author of the award winning novel Lost in Translation and A Cup of Light. Since 1999 Mones has written about Chinese food for Gourmet magazine, covering the food scene in Beijing, Shanghai, and the San Gabriel Valley, east of Los Angeles. Her work has also appeared in the Los Angeles Times and the Washington Post.

Here are two recipes with associated excerpts from The Last Chinese Chef:

Beggar's Chicken
When Wu Xunqu, chief chef at Lou Wai Lou, divulged this recipe, he cautioned that it was most but not all of the recipe, since he had a few secret ingredients he wanted to keep to himself. He also insisted on starting with the life of the chicken. This is one of the poultry cooking secrets of Chinese haute cuisine: the last two weeks of a chicken's life must be spent outdoors, running free.

Ingredients & Preparation
1. At home, however, you may start with a whole chicken, cleaned, and 4-6 whole lotus leaves, soaked 20 minutes in warm water.

2. Create 3-4 Cups of concentrated soup broth from pork bone, beef bone, ham, chicken feet, onion, ginger, meiling soy sauce (it's a tiny bit sour).

3. When cool, combine with rice wine, starch powder, white pepper, salt, and a little soy. Marinate chicken 30 minutes.

4. Remove the chicken to wrap in soaked lotus leaves, first pouring over and inside one cup of the marinade (fortified with extra slivered ham, other cooked meats left from the soup, and/or soaked, slivered mushrooms).

5. Follow a layer of lotus with a layer of parchment and then another layer of lotus. Use plastic style baking bags and a foil wrap to create a tight seal.

6. Roast at 400 degrees for 1/2 hour, then at 350 degrees for up to 3 1/2 hours, depending on the bird's size and age.

-courtesy Wu Xunqu

Excerpt about Beggar's Chicken from The Last Chinese Chef:

"Then the beggar's chicken. It looked at first like a foil-wrapped whole bird, but he undid it, folded back layers of crinkly baking bags, and broke the seal on a tight molded wrap of lotus leaves. A magnificently herbed chicken aroma rushed into the air. Maggie couldn't wait. She picked up a mouthful of chicken that fell away from the carcass and into her chopsticks at a touch. It was moist and dense with profound flavor, the good nourishment of chicken, first marinated,then spiked with the bits of aromatic vegetable and salt-cured ham which had been stuffed in the cavity and were now all over the bird. Shot through everything was the pungent musk of the lotus leaf. At once she knew she should write about this place. She should give this recipe, catch the glorious bustle of this restaurant, describe these tall windows looking over the lake and virgin green hills beyond."

Pork Spare Ribs in Lotus Leaf
Serves 4

Ingredients
1 lb pork spare ribs
2 dried lotus leaves
rice powder scented with 5-spice

Seasonings
2 Tablespoons chopped scallion
1 Tablespoons chopped ginger
1 Tablespoon each soy sauce, oil, sugar, soybean paste
1/2 Tablespoon sesame oil

Preparation
1. Cut spare ribs into pieces 1 1/2 inch wide, 2 inches long, then marinate in seasonings 1/2 hour.

2. Cut lotus leaves into eight pieces and soak in hot water 20 minutes.

3. Remove marinated ribs and discard scallion and ginger.

4. Add rice powder and thoroughly mix with rib pieces.

5. Divide ribs into eight small portions.

6. Place each on a soaked lotus leaf, fold and roll to make a package.

7. Place with the smooth side down in a bowl or deep plate.

8. Steam over high heat for two hours until tender.

9. Put a serving plate face down over the bowl and turn over.

Excerpt about Pork Spare Ribs in Lotus Leaf from The Last Chinese Chef:

"Inside the leaves, the rib meat came away under their chopsticks, rich and lean and long-cooked with a soft crust of scented rice powder. Underneath, the darker, more complicated flavor of the meat, the marrow, and the aromatics. Maggie thought it was
wonderful. She ate everything except the rib bones, which she nibbled clean and folded back up, polished, inside the leaf. She wished she could lick the leaf, it was so good.
But Sam, watching Uncle Xie's face, said, 'You think the scallion and ginger are too strong.'
'This is a dish of refinement,' said Xie. 'Sophistication and subtlety are what is most important, not the peaks of flavor. Every flavor must be a play on texture, while every texture suggests a flavor. You can be rustic, but never coarse. Always believe in the intelligence of the diner. Always reward them with subtlety.'"

Recipes for Beggar's Chicken and Pork Spare Ribs in Lotus Leaf (pdf)

Labels: books, china, nicole mones, the last chinese chef

I've done a lot in my effort to learn more about wine. I've drunk and I've drunk and I've drunk, but to be honest I haven't read all that much until now. Just recently several wonderful wine books have really caught my attention. A Moveable Thirst Tales and Tastes from a Season in Napa Wine Country is one of those books.

The premise of the book is that a journalist and a wine buyer decide to visit all 141 public tasting rooms in Napa over the course of a season. Part of the book is really an in-depth guide to the wineries with details like service, wine availability, picnic prospect and even "intangibles and extras" that includes things like "this winery is worth the effort to find" or "this room is aimed at novices".

The "quest" portion of the book will have you laughing out loud. As Kushman bemoans his lack of spitting ability he is made to feel like an expert when he overhears other tasters ask, if the wine tastes like apricots does that mean they put apricots in the wine? And why do they call it a finish?

Napa is a region you could spend years getting to know. The authors of this book have done a lot of the legwork to help you make the most of your time in Napa. But those who plan no trips to Napa will enjoy it and learn something too. The information in the book ranges from the useful, like which Napa vintners are making Old World style wines to the trivial---did you know that one out of ten bottles of wine sold in America is White Zinfandel?

Another book that features the pairing of a novice and an expert is Educating Peter.

For my review of Educating Peter by Food & Wine editor Lettie Teague, head over to Cooking with Amy.

Labels: amy sherman, books, Napa, wine

Yesterday, I attended the best cookbook event ever. Book signings are now more a professional obligation than a fun diversion, but I'm very glad I stopped in at the Bayanihan Community Center to see Amy Besa and Romy Dorotan. This wasn't your usual book event. Grandparents brought their grandkids, and Tagalog was spoken unabashedly. The tastings were generous--I enjoyed thirds on those adobo ribs--and there was much laughter in the air. Their discussion and demonstration were a powerful reminder of the way sharing recipes, memories, and food keep a community together over time and distance.

Amy and Romy's book, Memories of Philippine Kitchens, has been years in the making, and once you open the covers, you undertand immediately the amount of time and effort that went into gathering the stories. It's a rare example of a cookbook that encompasses geography, politics, culture, oral history, and excellent recipes in a book that is as beautiful as it is generous and loving. Publishers Stewart, Tabori & Chang did an excellent job with it; they allowed Amy to include the region's complex history, a multitude of photos, and a voice centered in her own community's experience rather than bent toward explaining her cuisine to non-Filipinos.

The book has sold out in nearly every store around the world, from Manila to London to San Francisco. Managers tell of readers standing in their store aisles, crying over the book. Its deep resonance with the Filipino diaspora speaks of the need for this book. Long overdue, Memories of Philippine Kitchens is the harbinger of a wider appreciation of a much misunderstood cuisine.

The husband and wife team opened their restaurant, Cendrillon, in Manhattan in 1995. Amy had fled Manila just weeks before martial law was declared in 1972, and in their youth, they were activists in the international Phillipines political movement. Romy's passion for food, however, led him to work in restaurants. It wasn't long before they decided to open their own restaurant highlighting Southeast Asian cuisines and then, of course, to begin writing this book.

If you're not familiar with Filipino food, then you're in for a treat. The fresh seafood; the fruity sour flavors that assert themselves again and again; and the amazing variety of noodles, soups and desserts--Filipino cuisine is one of the most fun to explore. Generosity at the table is a hallmark, and the laughing, singing and joking that accompany any gathering adds their own unique flavor to the food. Three dishes that any serious food lover must experience: a piquant peppery adobo, a kinilaw made with the day's catch, and a communal pot of sinigang.


Kilawing Tangigue: Generous amounts of ginger and scallion spike this fresh-from-the-sea kinilaw, one of the native dishes of the Philippines. (Photo by Bing Ramos)

The islands--over 7,000 of them--are home to centuries of intertwined communities. Native hunters, Chinese and Arab merchants, Malay empires with Muslim rulers, Indian laborers, and Spanish colonists followed by American soldiers have all left their mark on the country's culture. Revealing history in the kitchen, the cuisine itself reflects this pastiche of influences.

Northern and Southern California are home to the largest concentrations of Filipinos outside of Manila. From the first sailors who landed in Alta California to the Central Valley's agricultural workers, including Philip Vera Cruz, co-founder of the United Farm Workers, their history is integral to the successes of this state.

To learn more about the history, culture and cuisine of the Filipino community, visit:

Arkipelago Books
1010 Mission Street, San Francisco
(415) 553-8185
One of the city's gem of an indpendent bookstore, this packed space stocks any book ever written about the Philippines or Filipino Americans. I visit regularly to check in on their wonderful cooking and food section, which has hard-to-find books such as Beyond Rice, a stunningly beautiful book on the traditional cultivation of this important crop, and Kinilaw: A Philippine Cuisine of Freshness, an essential cookbook for any seafood lover. Another great find is the CD collection of Bay Area classical guitarist, Florante Aguilar, playing harana, traditional Filipino courtship serenades.

Bistro Luneta
615 Third Avenue, San Mateo
(650) 344-0041
A modern setting for Filipino cuisine, Bistro Luneta blends traditional flavors with contemporary techniques. While other Southeast Asian cuisines also appear on the menu, this is the place in the Bay Area to taste Filipino cuisine at its most vibrant.

Patio Filipino
1770 El Camino Real, San Bruno
(650) 872-9888 or (415) 810-9882
The menu at this restaurant highlights the Spanish influence on the country's cuisine. The house specialty is Paella Valenciana, but there's also an impressive list of sinigang soups and dishes with favorite ingredients, including kangkong leaves, milkfish, duck eggs, and pork in all its many yummy incarnations. They have a catering service, definitely worth trying for your next feasting event.

The Filipino American Arts Exposition
Dedicated to preserving and presenting Filipino arts and culture, the FAAE hosts the annual pistahan celebration at Yerba Buena.

Labels: asian food, books, filipino, restaurants, san francisco, south bay, thy tran

I'm not a Rachael Ray fan, but I don't like the way everyone beats up on her. I think what she's trying to do is to give people the confidence to get back into the kitchen and that gets lost in all the fuss about her goofy cheerleader-like demeanor and her growing empire. Her recipes are okay. Mostly she uses fresh ingredients, though sometimes pre-sliced or pre-washed ingredients take a starring role. Her recipes are nothing spectacular, but they aren't horrible either. For that, we have the satanic Sandra Lee and her Semi-Homemade madness.

Sandra Lee might be trying to get people back in the kitchen but if it's with fake processed scary awful-tasting pseudo-food then what's the point? Also she seems to care more about how to make food look good than actually taste good. So where do the Fix-it and Forget-it books that so routinely top the New York Times Bestseller lists fall? Are they more Rachael Ray or more Sandra Lee?

The latest book in the series, Fix-It and Forget-It 5-Ingredient Favorites: Comforting Slow-Cooker Recipes is clearly in the Sandra Lee camp. It demonstrates that clearly, much of America believes the only way to get something tasty on the table, with ease, is to rely on lots of processed, packaged low or no-nutrition foods. I mean things like canned soup, processed cheese, spaghetti sauce mix, frozen hash browns, grape jelly, soft drinks, canned mushrooms and chicken nuggets. These all rank high among the so-called "Five Ingredients" that legions of contributors use in recipes which are to be found in the book.

I have no burgeoning empire like Rachael Ray, but I too want people to go back in the kitchen. I want them to love cooking and eating as much as I do. I don't want them to be intimidated. I want them to be inspired. And there is nothing in Fix-it and Forget-it to inspire, but plenty to make anyone who cares about good food sad.

Labels: amy sherman, books, tv

Apples for Jam is a book that gets under your skin. It beckons you, and seduces you to pick it up. The first time I saw it, I reluctantly put it back down. The over $40 price tag was hefty, and I decided I could live without it. It wasn't 24 hours later that I was back at the store and handing over my credit card.

Feeding a family is about stitching all the bits together on a steady thread -- between the tuck shop, your knowledge of nutrition, your own family's tastes, your capacity and how much you can give -- and still leaving some space for spontaneity and the will of nature. And all this should still have the grace and honesty of a daisy chain.

Tessa Kiros focuses Apples for Jam on food for families. The gorgeously designed book bounces between stories from the author's life, gorgeous photos of her family, and over 200 recipes.

The recipes are arranged in chapters by color which leads to very interesting browsing. Is banana bread brown? It's actually monochrome according to Kiros. What could possibly be in a pink chapter? Beetroot gnocchi, baked ham and cheese bread pudding, penne with prawns, cream and tomato, and tiny cakes with pink icing.

All of Kiros' recipes have a casual, conversational tone, as you'll see from the recipe below. Reading through it, I get the feeling that the recipes aren't as much hard-and-fast rules as they are suggestions for one method.

To the seasoned cook, some of the recipes seem so basic that it's humorous. "Pasta in chicken broth" involves throwing tiny pasta into chicken broth, boiling till cooked, and topping with parmesan cheese. But Kiros entertains as she instructs, and her guidance to "drop pasta into boiling broth while shouting for everyone to get their hands washed and be seated," for instance, keeps me reading through the most basic of recipes.

It's a difficult book to get. I happened upon it at The Cook's Library, a fantastic independent bookstore in Los Angeles. You can get it from Amazon via a third-party seller, but it's not currently widely available in the United States. It's published by Murdoch Books, which is a publisher for Australia and the UK, so it should be available easily there.

Greek Yoghurt with Condensed Milk & Oranges

2 whole oranges or blood oranges
100 ml (3.5 fl oz) sweetened condensed milk
Finely grated rind and juice of 1 small orange
300 g (10.5 oz) Greek-style natural yoghurt

The base of this recipe was given to me -- thank you, Ioanna. I added the oranges, but you might like to add another fruit. I sometimes use blood oranges, sometimes ordinary. Whatever sort you use, make sure they are sweet as sweet. You could actually serve this with any other fruit you like, keeping the orange juice and rind for mixing into the yoghurt, and then draping this over any other cut fruit -- bananas, mangoes, plums would be beautiful ...

Use a small sharp knife to cut away the skin of the oranges, leaving no pith. Slice the oranges into substantial wheels, maybe 5 mm (1/4 inch) thick, and then halve those. Put the cut slices in a bowl to collect their juice. If you don't think they're very sweet, sprinkle a tablespoon or so of sugar over them.

Put the condensed milk, half of the orange rind and 4 tablespoons of the orange juice in a jug (you can drink the rest of the orange juice). Slowly mix this into the yoghurt, bit by bit. Cover and put in the fridge for a couple of hours until it has set to a very soft and creamy pudding. Serve a few orange slices with a dollop of the yoghurt, some juice dribbled over the top and a tiny hill of left-over ride, just for extra colour.

Serves 4

Recipe from Apples for Jam by Tessa Kiros, published by Murdoch Books.

Other books by Tessa Kiros:

Falling Cloudberries
Twelve: A Tuscan Cook Book

Tessa Kiros in the Blogosphere:

Who Wants Seconds: A Conversation with Tessa Kiros

Labels: books, jennifer maiser, recipes

Part I of II

The support and endless encouragement of accomplished women in the culinary industry is in a word or two, profoundly inspiring. Whenever I am lost, down on myself, confused, pity party for 1 please, I know I can zip an email off to Jerry DiVecchio (Sunset Magazine), Linda Carucci (Cooking School Secret for Real World Cooks), Emily Luchetti (Farallon) or Dorie Greenspan (Bon Appetit, Baking with Julia and now Baking from My Home to Yours), confident they will respond with kindness and encouragement or a kick in derriere to get out and get going. It's more meaningful, more touching, more inspiring than I can describe.

What does the Dalai Lama say - it's not the destination that's important, it's the journey - or something like that? If not for these generous, funny, thoughtful trailblazers, the journey of discouraged, searching cooks like me would resemble a pinball bouncing back and forth across this culinary world, eyes skyward pleading for direction. They are beyond generous with their time, their knowledge, their experiences and profoundly excited to see other women coming up the ranks succeeding, happy to share the stage and pass the torch.

Some of my most treasured memories in Paris are of time spent over a chocolate chaud or a vin chaud or an impromptu walk around the 6th with Dorie Greenspan. She knows everyone. Really. Everyone. It's amazing. And very fun. I try to stay in her wake, hoping some of her magical fairy dust will float back onto me. She tells me stories after stories after stories of the richest, most delightful experiences, experiences with some of the industry luminaries. Over a delicious lunch at Le Comptoir this week, Dorie shared more of her fascinating life with me. I can't begin to convey them with the humor and joy that she did but I hope they at least bring a smile to your face and a warmth to your heart as they did to mine...



I first talked with Dorie about her new, just-launched, uber-cool blog aptly named "In the Kitchen and on the Road with Dorie". Dorie was so inspired after her most recent book tour for Baking From My Home To Yours that she decided to create a blog to stay in touch and continue the dialogue with all these people that she'd met along the many stops criss-crossing the country last year as well as to connect with new people who shared her passion for baking and continue the culinary conversation.

What was your funniest cooking moment?

"Oh! The cake that got me fired!" Dorie describes it in more detail in her book (page 278) but she was fired from her very first job as a pastry chef. Dorie was cooking at a tres chic restaurant in New York City and daily she made a version of Simone Beck's (Julia Child's co-author of Mastering the Art of French Cooking) cake with whiskey-soaked raisins, almonds and chocolate. Bored of cooking the same thing every day, Dorie decided to get creative. She swapped almonds for pecans, prunes for raisins and whisky to armagnac. Sounds reasonable. Unbeknownst to Dorie, this was the restaurant's signature cake and changing it caused a small revolution upstairs in the dining room. She was fired that afternoon for "creative insubordination".

What was your biggest cooking disaster?

"When I burned my parents kitchen down...their just-renovated kitchen!" I remembered reading about the fire in the introduction of Dorie's new book (page xii) but I thought she couldn't possibly mean the entire kitchen. Maybe just a little grease fire? No. According to Dorie, her parents came home from an evening fundraiser, so very dressed up, to find Dorie and her friends sitting on the front step, heads in their hands, with firemen coming in and out of the house behind her. Dorie didn't cook again until she was married. Thankfully for us she was soon married!

What is your favorite recipe? Or is it even possible to choose a favorite recipe?

Dorie laughed and said she thinks the reason she had only one child was so that she'd never have to choose a favorite. But when it comes to the thousands of cookies she's baked over the years, World Peace Cookies get her vote as hands-down favorite. Why? Many reasons. The brilliance in the simplicity of the recipe. The deep chocolate flavor. And Grandmothers for Peace. It seems that World Peace Cookies have taken on a life of their own. Grandmothers for Peace have adopted them as their official cookie and are giving them away and asking people to bake their own and share them with other. Also, people are really responding to the name, especially now. She loved them first as Pierre Herme's chocolate sables, claiming they were as revolutionary as the Toll House cookies. Dorie included them in Paris Sweets named then Korova cookies. However it was Dorie's neighbor that labeled them World Peace Cookies, declaring if everyone ate these daily, we would indeed achieve world peace.




World Peace Cookies
-Reprinted from Baking from My Home to Yours (page 138) with permission from the author

1-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 stick + 3 tablespoons (11 tablespoons) unsalted butter at room temperature
2/3 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon fleur de sel or 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
5 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped into bits, or a generous 3/4 cup store-bought mini chocolate chips

Sift the flour, cocoa, and baking soda together.

Working with a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachmenet, ot with a handy mixer in a large bowl, beat the butter in medium speed until soft and creamy. Add both sugards, the salt and vanilla extract and beat for 2 more minutes.

Turn off the mixer. Pour in the dry ingredients, drape a towel over the stand mixer to protect yourself and your kitchen from the flying flour and pulse the mixer at a low speed about 5 times, a second or two each time. Take a peek-if there is still a lot of flour on the surface of the dough, pulse a couple of times more.; if not, remove the towel. Continuing at a low speed, mix for about 30 seconds more, just until the flour disappears into the dough-for the best texture, work the dough as little as possible once the flour is added, and don't be concerned if the dough looks a little crumbly. Toss in the chocolate pieces and mix only to incorporate.

Turn the dough out onto a work surface, gather it together and divide it in half. Working with one half at a time, shape the dough into logs that are 1-1/2 inches in diameter. Wrap the logs in plastic wrap and refrigerate them for at least 3 hours. (The dough can be refrigerated for up to 3 days and frozen for up to 2 months. If you've frozen the dough, you needn't defrost it before baking-just slice the logs into cookies and bake for 1 minute longer.

Getting ready to bake: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment or silicone mats.

Using a sharp thin knife, slice the logs into rounds that are 1/2 inch thick. (The rounds are likely to crack as you are cutting them-don't be concerned, just squeeze the bits back onto each cookie.) Arrange the rounds on the baking sheets, leaving about 1 inch between them.

Bake the cookies one sheet at a time for 12 minutes-they won't look done, nor will they be firm, but that's just the way they should be. Transfer the baking sheet to a cooling rack and let the cookies rest until they are only just warm, at which point you can serve them or let them reach room temperature.

--------------------------------

Please check back next week for Part II where Dorie shares the most heart-warming stories of life in Paris and working with Pierre Herme, Daniel Boulud and Julia Child.

Labels: books, cucina testa rossa, dessert, dorie greenspan, France, julia child, paris, recipes

Yesterday in a jetlag haze, I turned on the television. On a certain morning program a certain host was discussing insomnia and in the same breath joked that watching "c-span" might serve as a possible cure. It struck me as pretty funny that even daytime TV has staked out its place in the pecking order. Ok, I can hear them saying, we might not be primetime but we're better than c-span!

In addition to tips on skin care, a recap of the Miss America contest and Oscar fashions (now you know why you don't watch daytime TV) was a segment with Mario Batali and Kristin Davis promoting a free pasta cookbook that is also a fundraiser for America's Second Harvest. Hold the phone! I take back all the mean things I said about daytime TV!

I love Mario Batali, I love pasta and I passionately believe in the work of America's Second Harvest. Believe it or not, I'm pretty big on Barilla pasta too. In Italy it was the "house brand" with my family and so it is for me most days.

I checked out the cookbook and found it filled with celebrity recipes that have been "tweaked" by Mario Batali and Giada De Laurentis. The recipes look terrific, and why wouldn't they be? But better yet, by downloading a copy of it, for free, Barilla will donate a $1 to America's Second Harvest and you can even specify your own local food bank if you so desire. Nice. A definite win, win, win. Go get your copy. And stay away from morning TV, unless of course it's Sesame Street.

post written by Amy Sherman

Labels: books

The World in My Kitchen is the third installment in a trilogy of memoirs written by food writer Colette Rossant. While it is fine to read without reading the others, you''ll enjoy it even more if you do. I read the first of the books, Apricots on the Nile, years ago and was enchanted with her descriptions of growing up in a wealthy Jewish family in Egypt before the second World War. In the book I could taste the dishes she grew up with and smell the scents of the kitchen. The rest of the books are filled with wonderful stories and escapades, but Apricots on the Nile pulled me in and made me want to know more.

In the second installment, Return to Paris, you get a taste of life in post war France. Rossant's life is never easy, and by the time the book finishes I found myself eager for a happy ending. Because she is always the outsider, she has a keen eye for details whether describing her favorite olive stand or time spent with her girlfriends. All along the way you'll find treasured family recipes which punctuate the chapters and the drama.

The World in My Kitchen is about Rossant's life after she moves to America. This time she is no longer a child or a teenager as she was when she moved to Egypt and then back to France, but a young newlywed. Her story is a collage of scenes from life in New York in the 1950's through until today. The stories are about her family, and her career and include her relationships with many famous food writers and chefs such as Paul Bocuse, Gael Greene, Calvin Trillin and more. She also takes trips to Australia, Africa, China and Japan, and as always food is the focus. So too is Rossant, a charming, funny and spunky personality who just happens to be a consumed with sleuthing out great restaurants, recipes and even specialty ingredients.

Labels: books

"I often ask people what they think of breakfast, and most reply instantly that it is their favorite meal. When pressed to tell what they eat for breakfast, their answers become rather vague. I've decided that they love the idea of breakfast, but they need some good guidance and recipes actually to get them to cook it. Breakfast has remained pure amid all the food trends with their stylish dishes and chic ingredients. The honest simplicity of breakfast is so captivating."

Marion Cunningham wrote these timeless words in the introduction to her simply, and aptly named, The Breakfast Book 20 years ago.

Although I own many cookbooks, this sweet little hardcover is covered with the most flour and butter stains. And, upon opening, it turns immediately to page 112, where the recipe for Buttermilk Pancakes sits, near the beginning of a chapter titled Griddling.

I have fed many a person with this recipe. I've made them with the substitutions Ms. Cunningham suggests, made them plain, and recently taken the liberty of changing their characteristics by moving around some of the ingredient amounts.

The Internet is full of recipes people love. I receive at least 10 emails a week from eggbeater readers looking for recipes for this or that. Sometimes I reply, as gently as I can muster, that to achieve exactly what they're looking for, they may want or need to experiment a bit to get the baked good of their dreams.

I realize few feel comfortable enough with baking in the first place enough to throw caution to the wind and change amounts, methods and substitute. I have two pieces of advice for this:

1. When you make something over and over you will get to know it like you know a friend. Recipes with the fewest amounts of ingredients will allow you to see what the nature of each ingredient does inside said recipe.

2. After you've made something once, experiment slowly. Meaning: increase, decrease or substitute partially, with small amounts here and there. Make notes on your changes so you can indeed get to know what each ingredient does and does not do to your end result.

I have written a number of step-by-step "tutorials"* on a few methods/recipes in order to teach people what ingredients do what when and how. The "why's" rarely appear in cookbooks because few authors can afford to pay for recipe testing, let alone all the extra pages it would take to go into full explanations for each recipe and its corresponding set of ingredients and method.

But back to the pancakes.



What each of likes and needs from a pancake is dependent on who made our first pancake taste and texture impression. For me it was my mother's mother, my Nanny, Eve Gordon, in her colorful Long Island neon pink paisley wallpapered kitchen. The pancakes were small, un-circles, fairly flat, cooked in a generous amount of Breakstone's whipped sweet butter. The mix was Aunt Jemima. So of course, to me, this is what the perfect pancake tastes like.

The first time someone made me pancakes "from scratch" I was almost 20. The Connecticut boy who made them for me shook his head sadly when he found out I didn't know such a thing could be done. And then he placed maple syrup on the table his family had made the winter previous.

Sometimes the best lessons are best learned over the best pancakes and their corresponding sauce.



MARION CUNNINGHAM'S THE BREAKFAST BOOK BUTTERMILK PANCAKES
Adapted by Shuna fish Lydon

1 Cup Buttermilk
2 Large eggs
3 Tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 Cup all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt
1 teaspoon baking soda, sifted

1. Put the buttermilk, eggs and melted butter into a mixing bowl. Whisk to combine thoroughly.
2. In another large bowl whisk together flour, salt and sifted baking soda. Make a "well" in center.
3. Pour the buttermilk mixture into the center of the "well" and stir until combined, but do not over mix-- a few lumps are ok.
4. Heat up a cast iron skillet slowly until medium hot. I place my hand over the surface of the pan, hovering near an inch over the surface. If I feel heat radiating out, it's ready.
5. Melt a small pat of butter in skillet. If the butter immediately browns, turn heat down.
6. Scoop large dollops of batter into prepared pan. Do not crowd pancakes; you will need room to flip them.
7. When bubbles form across the entire surface, flip pancakes. Pancakes should only be flipped once.

I like to heat up my oven and keep a plate inside so that I can place the ready pancakes in there to wait, thereby being able to sit down with the person I'm eating pancakes with. This recipe has made anywhere from 6-8 average sized pancakes, enough for two people with one or two leftover.



If you like a fluffier pancake add 1/4 teaspoon more baking soda. If you want a butterier pancake, add 1 tablespoon more melted butter or decrease the flour to 3/4 Cup. If you like an even flatter pancake than me, add 1/4 Cup more buttermilk or whole milk. If you want your pancake to be sweet before you slather it with maple syrup or your favorite marmalade, add 1 Tablespoon of sugar to the batter.



*If you're looking for more of the hows and whys concerning how certain ingredients behave in baked goods, I have written these tutorials: Pie Dough, Crepes, Dacquoise/Meringue, to name a few. And I will be teaching another set of Baking Fundamental classes starting in the Spring. Email me if you're interested.

Happy Breakfasting!

Labels: books, recipes

The first cookbook I ever owned was the Joy of Cooking. It had the basic recipes for just about everything I was interested in cooking. I'd come home from shopping and turn to the Joy to see how to cook some vegetable or cut of meat or how to make something I was craving but had never made before like biscuits or macaroni and cheese. In fact, the 1984 edition I have has "the all-purpose cookbook" emblazoned across the front which couldn't have been more accurate.

I grew up in a household that had an earlier edition of the book, and it always seemed quaint and a bit old-fashioned to me. It still does. It certainly has never been where I turned for inspiration. But regardless, I used it for years for things like coffeecake, cranberry relish, roast chicken, candied sweet potatoes and so much more. And I still do.

The thing about the Joy of Cooking is that the format for the recipes is positively the best for anyone learning to cook. You see all the ingredients and the order in which they are used in the recipe at the same time. This may not sound that important, but it's actually crucial. Each step is a technique and glancing at a recipe you can easily determine the difficulty of the recipe based on your own skills. You can see a bunch of recipes here.

The new 75th anniverary edition Joy of Cooking has "4500 recipes for the way we cook now" on the cover. Some people are all up in arms because it has more ethnic "exotic" recipes than before. But the truth is, we have access to many more ingredients now, so the cookbook really functions just the way it always did. It is a cookbook in the truest definition of the word, a book of recipes and cooking directions. It is solid, indispensable and I wouldn't part with my old edition for anything. Do you need the new edition? If you are an accomplished cook and certainly if you have an old edition, then probably not. Athough having worked my way through both books, I found the new version has updated even the techniques found in the older versions. I recently tried the Swedish Meatball recipe and it was great and significantly different from earlier versions. But if you're looking for the right book to give to a new cook, the new version will get them on the right track and keep them cooking for a long time to come.

Labels: books

When I was little I remember asking my mom if people could be vegetarians, could they also be meatatarians? No, she said, you mean carnivores and no, people cannot be carnivores. I remember a feeling of disappointment. I really was hoping the answer was yes.

The thing is, my mom was a really good cook, especially when it came to main dishes, she just wasn't very adventurous when it came to vegetables which were served steamed and plain. I say was, because she backed away from the kitchen the day my father retired. She cooked lots of wonderful dishes that were favorites of mine, Greek Stifado, eggplant parmesan, meatloaf with hardboiled eggs in the center and of course, Party Perfect Chicken. Now in case you haven't had it, Party Perfect Chicken has many odd ingredients in it, such as coconut, curry, ketchup and bacon. Ahhhhh bacon.

Not only can bacon make chicken taste better, it can make just about any vegetable taste better. I think if my mom had made vegetables with bacon I might have been more enthusiastic about them. In Seduced by Bacon, surely one of the best cookbook titles ever, there are several vegetable and side dishes with bacon. I like the idea of incorporating bacon into dishes like Rapini with Pine Nuts and Currants, Creamed Spinach and Glazed Pearl Onions, but my favorite might be Stir-Fried Brussels Sprouts, Shiitakes and Scallions. The dish is described as the "perfect antidote for people who way they hate brussels sprouts."

Stir-Fried Brussels Sprouts, Shiitakes and Scallions
serves 4

4 slices bacon, cut into 1/4 inch cubes
10 ounces Brussels sprouts, trimmed and sliced
3 ounces shiitake or oyster mushrooms, wiped, stems removed and discarded, cut into thick slices
8 scallions, including most of the green parts, trimmed and sliced
2 Tablespoons medium sherry
1 12/ Tablespoons soy suace
1 Tablespoon toasted sesame oil
Pinch red pepper flakes

1. In a large wok, hea the bacon over medium heat until the fat covers the bottom of the pan, 2-3 minutes. Add the Brussels sprouts and stir-fry until they are bright green, 2-3 minutes, stirring constantly. Site in the shiitakes and scallions and stir-fry for 3 minutes more.

2. Add the sherry and soy sauce, raise the heat to high, and cook for 2 minutes longer, sitrring often. Stir in the sesame oil and pepper flakes and serve.

Recipe from Seduced by Bacon, by Janna Pruess with Bob Lape, The Lyons Press 2006.

Labels: books