Ending the Year On A Delicious Note

As my daughter said of the entire decade: it was a son of a bitch.  Truthfully, I'm finding it challenging to recall much further back than the start of this crappy year, but at 16 her memory is better than mine so I'll go with it - an overbroad summation though it may be.

I can happily say, however, that 2009 appears to be ending with an upswing (and a Blue Moon), which is something I wasn't sure I would say 3-4 months ago.  For example: I know four couples who are recently engaged, this year is as close to being over as it's ever been, and I managed to find a job (other than updating FB and scrutinizing the job postings on Craig'sList) that has reawakened my love of cooking (and perhaps more dubiously - of eating).  To wit: Judy Rodgers' (French Green) Lentils Braised in Red Wine; produced by me despite a wicked weekend bender in which I dared to think of myself as capable of functioning in the kitchen following back-to-back nights of excessive revelry (see most recent post below).  And I almost was.  What a shame that I forgot the drizzle of olive oil at the end that would have renewed the sheen they had during braising.  Dammit.

Ah well, what's done is done.  (Like 2009!!!  FINALLY!)  The lentils were their peppery selves and slightly sweet, with just a hint of thyme - and they held their shape and texture beautifully despite having been made the day prior and then reheated.  They are an easy, delicious, somewhat unusual, and remarkably healthy (are you reading this Yolanda?) alternative to many other side dishes.  A perfect winter meal accompaniment (if one remembers the olive oil drizzle).

The company holiday party was an enormous success!  Thank you Bibby!  With roughly 10 dishes made from the Zuni Cafe cookbook, and not a single dud among them, this was an incredible meal!  From the grilled skirt steaks with 4 (count 'em) accompanying sauces, to the roasted beet and mache salad (see above), to the absolutely-must-serve-at-my-next-grown-up-dinner-party Citrus Risotto, it was phenomenal.  Enough so that I was quite easily able to let go my despair that no one had chosen to make the hallowed Roast Chicken with Bread Salad.  And yes, this is a cookbook I must now own.  As should you.  You can find it for a steal here.

And in case you're interested, this is my Dream Spice Shelf. Situated at eye-level, lit from within, alphabetized, clearly labeled (and dated, I'm sure), on little risers built to suit.  Sigh.

Celebrating The Season

Yesterday morning (WAY too early given the nature and quantity of Christmas drinking that accompanied my Christmas shopping the night before) I awoke with the dim and slightly fuzzy recollection that I had agreed to prepare some food for a 50th Birthday Celebration - masquerading as a Family Festivus since the Birthday Girl wanted it that way - on Saturday evening.  That thought immediately prompted another memory - that I would also need to prepare the dish I'd agreed to bring to the company holiday party at my boss's home on Monday night.  And pack to head home.  And somewhere in there I also needed to squeeze in a little Me Time (aka: mani-pedi and other... "female touch-ups", shall we call them).  And of course I'd done none of the shopping I needed to do earlier in the week.  Yeah, I probably didn't need that last drink - or three.

I gingerly lifted my head from the pillow and slowly made my way out of bed.  To the kitchen.  To locate the necessary recipes.  To make the list and then set out for my favorite market with a measure of dread regarding the task ahead.  Berkeley Bowl: Where foodies find their produce Nirvana and hippies get their organic on.

Shopping there on a Saturday these days is only a bit of a gamble.  It used the be a sure thing that you would spend at least 10 minutes waiting for a parking spot (and don't get me started on the time a guy keyed my car because I took the spot he was "saving" for someone else - they don't call the lot the Berkeley Brawl for nothing!) and the next hour in basket to basket traffic as you tried to maneuver past the bulk grains over to the mache.  But ever since owner  Glenn Yasuda decided to open up BBWest this past summer, the teeming unwashed masses have thinned and it's possible to wait less than 5 minutes for a parking spot and less than an hour negotiating your way over to the durian fruit.    And that's how it was yesterday, thank God. I was ill equipped to have handled the BB of yore.  So, back at the house a mere 75 minutes later, with my fresh dungeness crab meat, French green lentils, pinot noir, and some other impulse Asian condiment and produce purchases in hand (the first satsumas of the season!!!), I set to work.

First up: Martha's Hot Crab Dip that can be found on pg. 385 of Martha Stewart's Hors d'Oeuvres Handbook, and apparently nowhere else.   As with literally every dish I've made from that book, it's delicious - and it's what the party host requested.  I wish I'd been able to get a shot of it when it came out of the oven - but I thought it would have been perceived as a tad gauche and presumptuous to make everyone stand back while I went to grab my camera (next time I'll try to remember to have Nat or Jack at the ready!).  As it is, we have this one, before it went into the oven (yes - those are the toasted brioche breadcrumbs I made last weekend - they worked perfectly):

We also have this.  Oops.  I told you I was feeling a little....  off.  I probably shouldn't have been allowed in the kitchen actually.  So I'm considering it a personal victory that this was the only batch that ended in this fashion and that no digits were harmed in the making of the dip (though of course, because it's required every time, I did grate the tip of my freshly manicured finger nail whilst shredding the cheddar cheese).

The dish was a hit once again (except for the guy who's allergic to shellfish) and the Festivus/Birthday was a tearful and laughter-filled celebration of love, family, and the holiday season that reminds us of all we have to be thankful for.    

Today: Lentils Braised in Red Wine - my contribution to the company holiday party tomorrow night.   After I spend a little time recovering from the champagne, red wine, and port that I was so thankful for last night.  

Crap.  I still have to pack.

Tackling Tom

I was recently given ad hoc at home, the latest cookbook produced by His Eminence
Thomas Keller, as a birthday gift (how lucky am I?  As of earlier today it's backordered on Amazon until February!).  And as I greedily poured over the pages that comprise this most recent Tome To Excellence, I was pulled immediately into both reverie and premonition:  The meal I was lucky enough to share with a friend at ad hoc when the concept for the restaurant was still just that, and the belief that I had finally become a competent enough home cook to tackle this Tom.

After all, I've successfully made two things from The French Laundry cookbook: Salad of Haricot Verts, Tomato Tartare, and Chive Oil, and the Staff Dressing.  And I've collaborated on two from Bouchon:  Duck Confit and Lentils Vinaigrette.  And since the entire premise of the current book is to share family-style, replicable recipes for the home cook, I had visions of lovingly hefting this gorgeous bible off the shelf and producing near nightly meals of perfection.  How can one NOT be wooed by the simplicity of "dinner for dad: barbecued chicken with mashed potatoes and collard greens, followed by strawberry shortcake"?!

So I curled up on the couch and dug in, grocery list at the ready.

Then I remembered: This Is Thomas Keller We're Talking About.   And Thomas Keller's fig-stuffed roast pork loin requires three ingredients one has presumably already made and now has just lying about the kitchen ready for their next cameo: pork brine, fig and balsamic jam, chicken stock.  Just as likely, a trip to at least one, but probably more (as I discovered yesterday), specialty store will be required in order to secure just the right ingredient: the illusive but ultimately sourceable (for a price) iberico ham, made from acorn-fed Spanish pigs, say; or Bintje creamer potatoes; how about the herb mentioned in nearly every savory recipe that CANNOT be found in any American market: CHERVIL.

In my case, I only had to find chives, the right cheese, the illusive brioche, and the copious quantities of both whole milk and heavy cream required for the Leek Bread Pudding that I had settled on as my first ad hoc endeavor.  Lucky me - I already had leeks and thyme (see above), eggs, unsalted butter, and nutmeg.
Two bakeries later I was home with my brioche and I set to work, first removing the crusts as instructed by my Master, then toasting the cubes until "pale gold" (I made bread crumbs from the crusts and toasted those as well - but I'm unsure a) whether they will actually keep and b) what I might actually create with them if they do...).  My leeks were sauteed, my brioche was toasted, everything was set for me to produce an instantaneously artery-hardening dish that would make us swoon.

And then Natalie told me she was going "out".  So I put on the brakes, ordered some Chinese, and curled up with George Bailey instead of Tom.

That was yesterday.  Today I put everything back in place and told the kids that this was all I was going to make for dinner.  They were on their own if they were looking for a protein (or protein substitute), or a fresh vegetable (not likely) - anything remotely resembling a balanced meal.  They weren't.

It was divine.  Light, yet rich and custardy, faintly leeky, with a distinctly lovely nutmeg note (probably because I added more than the "dash" called for...).  Only Jack wasn't impressed.  But based on the quantity of hot sauce that he's recently applied to literally everything except his Honey Bunches of Oats, I'm not sure his palate is equipped to appreciate such sublime subtly.  Plus (or scarily), that leaves more for Nat and me!  Oh yes, I'll be tackling Tom again soon.  And some day I might even make it to Bouchon and The French Laundry.

Brrr - it's soup weather!

The past several days have been pretty chilly in the Bay Area - and by that I mean FREEZING - by our standards, anyway.  Now they're not as freezing.  They're just sopping wet.  Definitely NOT my favorite weather. In fact, about the best thing I can say about this weather is it reminds me that it's the perfect season for soup!  I love soup.  And thankfully I've passed that love on to my children - I hear of these children who don't like soup and I wonder what's responsible - is it nature or nurture that's failed them?

Every year I'm good for at least a couple of batches of Split Pea Soup - Natalie's favorite.  This year was a little more challenging in light of her vegetarianism and I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to pull it off.  After all - you can't make split pea soup without the smoky flavor of ham hock and pieces of ham in it, right?!  Wrong!  Wandering down the grocery store aisle a couple of months back I came across a bag of peas called "HamPeas" - complete with artificial ham flavoring:

So I gave it a whirl - using vegetable stock in place of my usual chicken, and loading up on the fresh thyme.  The result?  Really not bad.  With a side of cornbread and healthy little scoop of bacon bits in my bowl, I have to say it worked.

Of course, following Thanksgiving this year, I made Turkey Noodle Soup.  I went a little heavy on the carrots so it was a touch too sweet, but otherwise it was very good - hearty, savory and peppery.  Jack and I mowed through it in about 3 days and Jack's comment was "I love soup when there's not too much broth - yum!"

Last week I was ready to tackle something new.  I settled on a twist on something familiar... Roasted Potato Leek Soup.   It seemed to offer everything I was craving in a winter soup: starchy creamy cheesy roasted goodness.  (That's the roasted potatoes and leeks at the top, with the addition of baby arugula wilted in the final minutes.) And since I happened to have some leftover homemade vegetable stock on hand, I could make it veggie-friendly!  Of course I made the optional crispy shallots and they were the perfect garnish!  (Though Jack would likely say that the spicy Italian sausages I sauteed to add to his soup were the magical finish.)

I made all of this last Sunday in anticipation of coming home from work on Monday to decorate the first Christmas tree we've had in 4 years instead of spending the evening making dinner. And it's a good thing I did it that way:  while not especially challenging, this recipe takes awhile.   But it's well worth it and it allowed us to accomplish this: