Pen & Fork

Simplify....

2009-06-01T09:51:00.002-07:00

For a while now, I've been posting on two different platforms, blogger and wordpress.

I've got nothing against blogger, but in order to streamline and simplify my job, I'm going to only post over at wordpress.

If you're a regular visitor to this site, I hope you'll switch over with me. Same great taste, less filling (up my schedule).

www.penandfork.wordpress.com

See you there!

Gwen Ashley Walters
food writer, cookbook author, blogger, cook, dishwasher and dog walker.

Phoenix Files: 5 Must Try Fries

2009-05-20T06:00:00.003-07:00

(Image courtesy Bourbon Steak)

French fries never go out of style.

But lately, fries have made a resurgence of sorts, appearing on the menus of high dollar steakhouses, quirky neighborhood spots and upscale fast food joints, not to mention gracing the cover of Gourmet.

Some may think that the big daddy of all fries is found under the golden arches. While we'd like to poo-poo that idea, the truth is Micky D's set the standard for hot, skinny, salty fries.

We'd rather have a hot batch of spuds from one of these five - make that six - Phoenix area restaurants.

Didn't really want to put a chain at the top of the heap, but the fries speak for themselves and nobody does a better fry than Bourbon Steak. Oh, and they're free - a gratis nibble before the main meal.

So, without further ado, here are five fries that are worth the caloric splurge.

(drum roll, please...)

1.Bourbon Steak. Without a doubt, the best French fries in the Valley are the trio of duck fat fried sticks from Michael Mina's sleek steakhouse at the Scottsdale Fairmont.

Three silver cups filled with crispy spuds - one speckled with garlic and herbs, another glazed with truffle oil and a third dusted with spicy smoked paprika. The accompanying sauces - oniony ketchup, creamy truffle aioli, and smoky barbecue sauce - are just icing on the cake.

Maybe the presentation has something to do with it, but more than likely, it's the duck fat.

2. Cafe Bink. But only because the chef cooks them not once, not twice, but THREE times. A gentle par boil first, followed by two rendezvous with the fryer. The result? Crisp on the outside, airy and tender on the inside.

3. Christopher's Restaurant and Crush Lounge does two kinds of frites. One type is crispy matchsticks but we're more taken with the russet and sweet potato fry medley. The truffled, spicy ketchup is a bonus.

4. Maizie's Cafe & Bistro. This cozy uptown neighborhood bar serves French fries that, (are you sitting down?), actually taste like potatoes. Amazing, but true.

5. The Tuck Shop. Just because they're not called French fries, doesn't mean they're not. Patatas bravas are fat sticks of herb-crusted taters served with garlicky aioli and a bowl of smoked paprika spiked tomato sauce - a Spanish twist worth seeking out.

Honorable mention: Wrap-N-Frappe. No, seriously, they have fantastic sweet potato fries, but it's the honey dipping sauce that landed them on the honorable mention roll.

How to Cook Swiss Chard

2009-05-19T09:15:00.000-07:00

I'm standing in line at the grocery store and the cashier starts ringing up my basket. He has to look up every single code on the produce, save bananas.

He's young.

When he picks up the Swiss chard, he says, "what's this?"

I tell him it's spinach on steroids. A light bulb goes off in his head.

And then he asks me what I do with it. Cook it, I say. Oh, he says, followed by how?

Now, he's maybe 16, so I know he's not going to go home and cook a batch of Swiss chard, but I tell him anyway, just in case. I mean, I'd like to think that the young ones are interested in cooking.

The first thing I do is trim the stalks from the stems. You can cook the stems, if you like, but they need more cooking than the leaves, and I don't like the texture, so I discard them (to the compost pile if you have one!)

Cutting the stem is like cutting a "V" from the leaf. Once the stems are removed, I fold the leaves in half, lengthwise and roll them up. Then I just chop them a few times.

Next, place them in a bowl and cover with cold water to rinse off any grit.

If the chard seems particularly dirty, give them another bath. Swish around the chard with your hand and then let them rest, so any dirt will sink to the bottom of the bowl. Gently grab a few handfuls at a time and place them in a salad spinner basket.

What? You don't have one? Why not? It was going to be No. 11 on my top ten list of best kitchen gadgets, but then it wouldn't have been a top ten list.

I like the OXO salad spinner, with the hand pump on top. Let's you get out a bit of aggression. They have two sizes, but the larger one is the most useful. I've given it as a gift to some of my favorite people.

I don't like the brands that have a pull string to spin the basket. Maybe I'm too rough with it, but I usually end up ripping the darn string out. The pump style is much more durable for people like me.

Back to the chard, the reason it needs to be dry is because we're going to saute it in a skillet with a little olive oil, maybe even a little garlic, but I'm getting ahead of myself here.

If it's not dry, then the water droplets will hit the oil and make it splatter. Messy.

Now, this pan looks ridiculously full. It is. And that's only about 2/3's of the batch. Pour about a tablespoon (or teaspoon if you're using a non stick pan and watching your girlish figure) into a pan and heat over medium heat. Add as much Swiss chard as you can fit, and it's OK if it mounds up higher than a kite.

Let it cook a couple minutes, then with tongs, gently start to turn the chard, pulling the leaves on the bottom up to the top. Soon, right before your very eyes, it will shrink. (And darken to an very unattractive shade of green, which is why I usually hide it underneath the rest of the meal.) As the chard wilts, add any extra that didn't fit in the pan.

Once it is all wilted, you can add some minced garlic and cook that in with the chard for flavor. Minced shallots, too, if you're feeling frisky.

It only takes about 7 to 8 minutes to fully cook. You know it's done when you taste it and it's tender but not mushy. Season with salt and pepper and call it a day.

I debated long and hard about whether or not to include this last picture. Cooked, chard isn't really all that attractive (hence, the hiding underneath, say beautiful sweet potatoes, or a saffron scented rice pilaf, for example).

Swiss chard is in season now and it's so good for you - full of those antioxidants the experts say we need (vitamins A, C and E) - plus a ton of vitamin K (good for blood clotting and bruise-healing) and a bunch of B vitamins to boot.

Despite the health benefits, I think it really tastes good.

Like spinach, on steroids, only better.

Christopher's Louis Jadot Wine Dinner

2009-05-17T09:14:00.000-07:00

This must be wine dinner week in Phoenix.

On Tuesday, May 19, just one night before the Binkley's-Duncan Farms dinner and the Autostrada wine dinner, Christopher's & Crush Lounge presents a five course dinner paired with five wines from the famed Louis Jadot winery (and a port from Portugal for dessert).

Just for fun, I've put a little glossary together at the end of this post, just in case you run across a word you're not familiar with.

Amuse bouche: panna cotta of creme fraiche with a millefeuille of house smoked salmon and brioche paired with Chablis.

1st course: ravioli of scallops with essence of truffles, lobster, tomato tea and fines herbes paired with Meursault.

2nd course: braised veal cheeks with vinaigre de xeres, parsnip puree, confit of leeks and foie gras paired with Pommard.

Main course: pigeon roasted with wild mushrooms, cipollini onions, and oeufs en meurette in burgundy paired wth Gevery Chambertin.

Dessert: chocolate tart with chocolate sorbet and espresso sauce paired with Fonseca Bin 27.

Details: 2502 E. Camelback, (at the Biltmore shopping center), Phoenix, (602) 522-2344, $75++/per person.

Glossary:

amuse bouche: a little nibble to stimulate the palate.

brioche: a soft, eggy yeast bread.

confit: cooked in its own fat (like duck confit) but in this case, the term is used with leeks, so the leeks will be cooked in fat.

creme fraiche: a dairy product made with heavy cream and buttermilk, similar to sour cream only more delicate in texture.

fines herbes: a particular French combination of the herbs chervil, chives, parsley and tarragon.

millefeuille: a traditional French dessert made with layers of puff pastry and vanilla cream. Looks like Christopher will be replacing the puff pastry with brioche layers and the vanilla cream with his house smoked salmon.

oeufs en meurette: eggs poached in a dark red wine sauce.

panna cotta: an Italian dessert made with cream and usually gelatin for thickening. In this case, it will be a savory dish, made with creme fraiche.

vinaigre de xeres: sherry vinegar

Autostrada or Binkley's?

2009-05-15T09:49:00.001-07:00

Next Wednesday, May 20th, two wine dinners are happening in the northeast valley and wouldn't it be great if you could clone yourself so that you could go to both? Take a look at the menus and wine pairings, and call to make a reservation before the rest of the valley finds out.

Autostrada's wine maker's dinner will feature Toscana wines, imported from Italy by Giuliana Imports of Boulder, Colorado. The five courses of rustic, Italian-inspired cuisine from Chef Aaron May will be paired with selections from resident Sommelier, Dave Johnson.

First course: Mixed baby lettuces with white wine poached pears, sheep's milk ricotta, roasted hazelnuts and cherrywood balsamico, paired with Fontaleoni Vernaccia Di San Gimignono.

Second course: porcini crusted halibut with roasted baby beets and chive sauce, paired with Mocali Rosso Di Montalcino.

Third course: torchio pasta with broccolini, chile flake, grated bresaola and pecorino nero, paired with San Giusto A Rentennano Chianti Classico.

Fourth course: roasted lamb on sweet pepper ragu with salsa verde, paired with a Super Tuscan - Uccelliera Rapace.

Fifth course: almond and semolina souffle with candied orange, paired with the sweet Piazzano Vin Santo.

Details: May 20, 7 p.m., Autostrada, 20825 N. Pima (DC Ranch), (480) 513-2886, $75++/* per person

Binkley's and Duncan Farms are teaming up, along with AZ Wines of Carefree, to create a six course extravaganza. Starting with passed hors d'ouerves and a sparkling Cava from Spain, Kevin Binkley will roll out six "art on a plate" courses featuring the organic produce from valley favorite, Duncan Farms.

Halibut Carpaccio with haricots verts, gold nugget tomatoes, amethyst onions and tomato water vinaigrette, paired with the Frederic Giachino "Vin de Savoie" Abymes, France.

Soft Shell Crab with fried green tomato, charred spring onion, olives and horseradish, paired with Gerard Nuemeyer, "Les Hospices" Riesling, Alsace, France.

Desert Squash Blossoms, stuffed with sweet peppers, Italian sausage and Parmesan, paired with Benovia, Pinot Noir, Sonoma Coast.

Duck Breast and rillette with pineapple, fennel and blackberries, paired with Qupe Vineyards, "Bien Nacido" Syrah, Santa Maria Valley.

Ribeye with honey bear squash, baby beets and leeks, paired with Cade, "Napa Cuvee" Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley.

Carrot Cheese Cake with coconut, raisins, pistachios, cinnamon phyllo and chocolate, paired with Lilly Pilly "Noble Blend" from Austrailia.

Details: May 20, 6:30 p.m., Binkley's Restaurant, 6920 E. Cave Creed Rd, Cave Creek, (480) 437-1072, $105++/* per person

* ++ means plus tax and gratuity.

Coddling Baby Fennel...

2009-05-12T07:57:00.000-07:00

Don't you just love the name baby fennel? It sounds much more beguiling than just fennel.

Baby vegetables are either cultivated to be just babies or, including this baby fennel, are harvested before they reach maturity, so they are miniature versions of the fully matured vegetable. Generally, that means they're not only more tender, but also more delicate in flavor.

Fennel is sometimes mistakenly labeled anise, which is a completely different plant from fennel.

If you have fennel seeds in a spice jar in your pantry, those also are not from the same species that produces this lovely, off-white bulb. Confusing, I know.

Fennel seeds come from the common fennel plant and the bulbous vegetable is called Florence fennel, or finocchio in Italian.

Florence fennel can be eaten raw or it can be cooked. Raw, it has a crisp crunch and a delicate, understated flavor of licorice, much milder than the fennel seed.

Roasting the fennel, like you would butternut squash, sweetens the fennel, making it silky tender, too.

To use the fennel in a salad, cut the bulb from the green stalks. The feathery fronds on the stalks, which resemble dill in appearance, can be used as a garnish.

I like to shave the fennel using a mandolin, and the one in the picture above is my favorite mandolin. It's a Japanese Benriner.

Once cut, the fennel will oxidize (turn brown), so shave it just before you plan to serve it to retain the whitish color.

Tossing it with a delicate acid, like orange juice, will slow down the oxidization.

We're making an orange and fennel salad here, so after shaving the bulb into delicate ribbons, peel the pith from an orange, and separate the segments of the orange.

Squeeze the pulp of the orange after you've removed the sections over the fennel and toss.

To finish the salad, toss the shaved fennel and orange segments together, and then snip pieces of the fennel fronds over the top. Season with a little salt and pepper before serving.

If you are so inclined (and don't live with an olive hater) adding a few chopped black olives would really enhance this salad, adding a salty element to the sweet taste of the orange and fennel.

I especially like the wrinkly, dry-cured black olives. But, alas, I do live with an olive hater, so no olives for this salad.

Jicama - The Mexican Potato

2009-05-08T11:05:00.001-07:00

We've seen this brown, bulbous root vegetable in our markets in the Southwest forever, yet without fail, someone in the grocery store will stop me and ask me what it is, followed by "what do you do with it?"

I use it as a paper weight. (Kidding).

Jicama, a staple in Mexican and South American cuisine can be eaten raw or lightly cooked. The flesh glistens pearly white.

It's full of fiber and water, so it has a lovely crunch. My favorite way to serve jicama is as a component in a salad. It can be the star or a supporting cast member.

The first thing you have to do is peel the thin brown skin. I normally peel it before I cut it in half but I wanted you to see the inside first.

Once peeled, you can cut it any way you like. Cut it into matchsticks or cube it.

I made a jicama, orange and jalapeno side dish to go with barbecue, so I cubed it, added some orange sections and minced jalapeno.

Squeeze the orange after you remove all the sections over the jicama and then give it a good toss.

You could add a little olive oil for richness, but it's fine to leave it fat free.

Season with salt and pepper to taste and you've got a refreshing, crunchy salad.

Montreal Steak Seasoning...

2009-05-06T17:15:00.002-07:00

I picked up a free sample of McCormick & Co.'s Montreal Steak seasoning somewhere. I'm not exactly sure where I got it, either at a culinary festival or a culinary conference. I know that it was free because it says so right on the little packet.

We don't eat much beef around here anymore, despite my Texas upbringing, but I bought a couple steaks from a local Arizona cattle rancher at a farmers market a couple of weeks ago. Since I bought them (the young rancher looked so darn cute in his cowboy hat, I couldn't resist) I decided that I might as well grill them and use up the packet of free spice.

The Montreal Steak seasoning's first ingredient is salt. Normally, that would dissuade me from buying the spice. But the thing is, for steak, salt is probably the most important seasoning. You need salt and plenty of it to bring out the beefy taste (especially if the beef is grass fed, like these New York Strips).

Besides salt, there's a hefty amount of pepper - black peppercorns and red chile flakes. There are a few cracked coriander seeds and fennel seeds and lots of orange-tinted flakes that at first I thought might be orange peel. They're not. They taste hot. And garlicky. Maybe they're just granulated garlic but I'm not sure why they're orange.

If you grill a lot of steaks and you're always trying out a new spice mix, you might like this blend. Just be generous with it so it can live up to it's "bold" claim.

Roasted Curried Cauliflower

2009-05-05T10:40:00.001-07:00

You remember I'm not a big fan of cauliflower, right? Well, I need to amend that because now have another recipe that makes me think it's not so bad after all.

Yesterday, I wrote about Maharajah curry powder, one of four global spice blends worth trying.

Today, I'm sharing a recipe for roasted cauliflower using that highly aromatic (and colorful) spice. And by recipe, you do know that I mean, I'll just talk you through the process, right?

The first thing you do, after turning the oven on at 400 degrees, is cut the florets off the head of the cauliflower, cutting the larger ones into bite size pieces.

Wash and pat dry with paper towels. We'll be tossing with oil later, so the florets need to be dry. Oh, this head of cauliflower is two pounds, kind of a medium-ish size.

I also cut 1/2 of a large, yellow onion into lengthwise wedges, because, you know, what's roasted cauliflower without onions?

Whisk together a scant tablespoon of the Maharajah curry powder with 1/2 teaspoon of salt, 1/2 teaspoon (or, 1 full teaspoon if you dare) of Sriracha (or other hot sauce), and 3 tablespoons of olive oil.

Pour the mixture over the cauliflower and onions and give it a good toss, coating the whole caboodle. (Caboodle is such a fun word. Say it with me: kuh-BOOD-l. If that doesn't put a grin on your face, I don't know what will.)

Spread the cauliflower and onions on a baking sheet in a single layer. Place in the oven and roast until the cauliflower starts to caramelize and the onions are tender, about 20 to 25 minutes.

The only thing left to do now is to taste it and adjust for salt and pepper. I like to give it a good sprinkle of freshly ground white pepper, and finish it with some chopped fresh mint. Mint and curry go together like peanut butter and jelly, in an exotic sort of way. You could use cilantro if you have it in addition to, or instead of the mint.

Roasted curried cauliflower is really delicious as a side dish to say, grilled pork or grilled halibut. Or you could use it to top a salad dressed with a lemon vinaigrette. Or, you could even puree it, add a little vegetable stock, a splash of cream and call it a soup.

I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. I bought the Maharajah curry powder at Penzey's but you can find it at other specialty spice sites like The Spice House and Whole Spice, too.

Four Global Spice Blends To Try

2009-05-04T09:45:00.009-07:00

There are literally thousands of spice blends on the market. Here are four that you may not have in your pantry, but should -- and why.

Berbere is an Ethiopian mix of paprika, chipotle, fenugreek, ginger, cardamom, nutmeg, allspice, cinnamon and garlic, used to flavor aromatic stews called wats. Like curry spice mixes, every family in Ethiopia has their own custom blend. The flavor is smoky with a peppery bite and added warmth that only cinnamon and ginger can bring. It's excellent on beef, lamb and pork, but it can also liven up vegetables like cauliflower and potatoes.

Za'Atar blends can be found in northern Africa and in the Middle East. It's a citrusy, earthy mixture of thyme, oregano, sumac (the citrusy flavor), sesame seeds and salt. Use it on chicken, fish and pork, or even stir into yogurt for a quick dip.

Adobo in this form, is a dry spice blend most often associated with Mexico, Puerto Rico and other Latin American countries. Typical ingredients include dried onion, garlic, black pepper, Mexican oregano, cumin and cayenne. Think of it as a Latin flavored seasoned salt. Use it on chicken, pork and potatoes. (Note: the Filipino adobo refers to a vinegar stewed dish, not a spice blend.)

Maharajah curry powder is on the mild, dare we say "sweet" side of curry powders. It is similar to the standard "grocery store" curry powder although worlds more aromatic. It gets its golden color from turmeric and a touch of saffron, but the aromatics make this Maharajah blend special: coriander, cumin, cardamom, fenugreek, ginger, nutmeg, fennel, cinnamon, and cloves. Black, white and cayenne peppers add subtle heat. Excellent with vegetables (especially cauliflower) and soups, stews and rice dishes.

Where to buy:

The Spice House

Penzey's

Flavor Bank

Whole Spice

The Burning Truth...about beets

2009-05-01T14:18:00.000-07:00

Leave it to me to blab about a vegetable that's out of season. Or is it just coming into season? Beets, apparently, are not in season in northern California, at least according to Alice Waters' Chez Panisse Vegetables cookbook. I bet they're not in season in Kalamazoo, Michigan at the moment, either. Or, are they? Anyone?

All I know is that I can still get beets at our farmers' markets, so technically, they're still in season, at least in Arizona.

(I should know what's in season. I write for Edible Phoenix for cryin' out loud, and it clearly says in the Spring 2009 issue, on page 12, that beets are in season. Along with asparagus, fava beans and a dozen or so other vegetables.)

I love beets. Adore them. Especially pickled beets, like the candy sweet ones from Cotton Country Jams. But my hubby won't eat pickled beets.

Roasted beets, now that's a different story. He laps up roasted beets like a puppy with a bowl full of chow mix.

Here's how you roast beets: heat the oven to 375 degrees while you snip off the stalks, leaving about an inch above the beet (save the greens if you like braised beet greens).

Scrub-a-dub-dub the beets to get rid of any grit. Dry them. Put them on a sheet of heavy duty aluminum foil, drizzle with a good extra virgin olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

Wrap those babies up tight and place in the oven until they're tender, but not mushy, about an hour if they're on the large size.

Roasting beets is super simple, but there's a deep, dark secret that you need to know about.

They're only easy to peel when they're burning hot, straight out of the oven. Oh, you can wait five minutes, maybe, but if they cool too much, the skin doesn't want to part from the flesh.

I thought chilling them would create a little pocket, you know, between the skin and the flesh, like it does with roasted sweet potatoes.

Nope. Has the opposite effect, the coldness acts like glue.

So, here's what you need to do.

Get some plastic, disposable medical gloves. Grit your teeth, and dive in.

It won't take long, and it's worth it. All the beet flesh stays with the beet and the skins slip right off (with a little help from a paring knife).

Braised Leeks...

2009-04-30T14:48:00.001-07:00

I want to love braised leeks, really I do. The French adore their les poireaux, which sound deliciously romantic in French, don't they? But then again, everything sounds sexy in French; especially if you say it slowly, as they do in the south of France.

Cervelles au beurre noir.

Calf's brains in brown butter. See?

The truth is, I'm in love with the idea of braised leeks, more than the actual leeks themselves.

Some of my favorite cookbooks include recipes for braised leeks: Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Alice Waters's Chez Panisse Vegetables, and Susan Spicer's Crescent City Cooking.

So why can't I fall over backwards for a dish of braised leeks? Or at least swoon a little at the thought.

Maybe I would change my mind if I just spent more time with them. So I did.

Here we go.

Simply braised leeks.

(Note: if you plan to serve the leeks as a side dish, count on 2 leeks per person.)

Cut off the root end and the dark green tops, keeping the light green portion. Cut in half and place under running water, fanning the layers to remove any grit trapped between the layers (or gnats, which I found a few in this batch --I love organic produce. You only need to worry when bugs don't want to eat your dinner) .

Place the leeks, cut side down, in a shallow sauce pan that's either buttered or swiped with olive oil. (You need some fat here. I wouldn't blink, or tattle, if you rubbed it with bacon fat.)

Pour in enough dry white wine to come up quarter of the way up the leeks. Using the smallest pan possible is key -- only if you want enough wine left over to drink.

Pour in enough chicken or vegetable stock to come up just over half way of the leeks. Sprinkle with fresh ground pepper.

Turn the heat to medium-high and bring the liquid to a boil. Reduce the heat to simmer, and cover with a lid, partially askew to allow some steam to escape.

Cook until the leeks are tender and the tip of a knife easily pierces through the leek, about 30-40 minutes, turning the leeks twice: once after 10 minutes and then again after another 10 minutes.

Now, for the best part -- a buttered, bread crumb topping.

Time to get that broiler heating. Place the leeks, in a single layer, in a shallow, oven-proof baking dish.

For each portion of leeks, mix two tablespoons of whole wheat bread crumbs (nutty flavor and ultimately crunchier texture) with one tablespoon of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and toss with a tablespoon of melted butter.

Season with salt and pepper. You could also mix in some chopped fresh herbs if you have any.

Sprinkle the crumb topping over the leeks and place the leeks underneath the broiler until the crumb topping is dark brown and crispy, maybe a couple, three minutes, depending upon how close the heat source is to the leeks.

And there you have it. Tender, braised leeks, with a delicate, sweet, faintly onion flavor. Quite lovely.

After a late afternoon rendezvous, I get the allure: the tactile pleasure of cutting and cleaning leeks; the flittering, wispy aroma, happy to escape the sliver of a crack between the pan and lid. I can see myself making a whole roasting pan full. But still...

after all that, why do I still think of leeks as a seasoning and not a side dish?

Is something wrong with me because of my lack of overt passion for leeks?

Where did this indifference come from? Blame it on early American settlers who weren't in the least bit smitten with the leek.

Neither were early American cookbook authors, writing a couple hundred years after the Pilgrims landed, portraying leeks as a mere flavoring ingredient -- nothing special and certainly not worthy of serving alone.

When it comes to leeks, I rationalize I'm simply all-American.

Peach Pizza...

2009-04-29T10:18:00.002-07:00

Do peaches really belong on top of pizza?

Fruit topped pizzas are not that unusual. The Hawaiian pizza is an innocuous combination of pineapple chunks and salty ham.

So when I spotted the peaches, chorizo and goat cheese pizza at a microbrewery, I thought, why not? There are probably more bizarre combination than that.

Let's just say that I'm glad I tasted it. Probably wouldn't order it again. But kudos to the chef for thinking outside the box. Way outside.

Top 10 Kitchen Tools

2009-04-28T06:08:00.001-07:00

I couldn't very well post the worst kitchen gadgets without immediately coming clean on the best tools.

And notice I said top 10 "tools," not gadgets.

Because even if a couple of these are truly gadgets in the dictionary sense, they are so critical to a well-equipped kitchen that they've earned a promotion to tool status.

I've not mentioned any pots or pans on this list. Those deserve their own top 10 list, and I'll get around to that one day.

With the exception of one, none of these tools is considered a kitchen appliance, either, as that, too, deserves it's own list. Something like "Cool Kitchen Tools with Cords Attached."

Here are the top 10 kitchen tools that every serious cook should have:

(drum roll, please)

10. Hand held blender

So many tools could have taken this coveted 10th spot, but ultimately I decided on the blender stick. It purees sauces, both sweet and savory and soups and dips. It fits in a drawer, it's easy to store and even easier to clean.

9. Fish spatula

A fish spatula is wider at the tip than at the handle. It's thin and has slats. Not only does it flip delicate fillets without breaking them in two, it's perfect for flipping pancakes, potato cakes and pretty much anything else.

8. Wooden spoon

Why wooden? It works on non-stick surfaces. It's the best, sturdy tool to stir cookie dough. The only downside, if you consider it one, is that it must be hand washed. No dishwasher, unless you don't mind ruining it.

7. Ice cream scoop

Of course it works on ice cream, but it also can portion out muffin batter, cookie dough, meatballs and crab cakes so that each one is the same size as the previous one, which is only important if you want them to cook evenly, and perhaps look a little uniform.

6. Kitchen shears

From snipping herbs, cutting kitchen string and even poultry, shears are indispensable in the kitchen.

5. Microplane

This cool tool moved from the woodworking shop to the kitchen, and we've been grateful ever since. Grate citrus zest, ginger, Parmesan, and even chocolate.

4. Whisk

Get fluffier scrambled eggs with a whisk and fold in whipped cream or egg whites into batters with fewer strokes; this tool is also essential for smooth, lump-free sauces and gravies.

3. Serrated knife

It is the only knife that should touch bread.

2. Paring knife

For those tiny little jobs where a chef's knife is overkill, like slicing strawberries.

1. High quality chef's knife

If you had to chose only one tool, this is THE tool. Since it is the workhorse of the kitchen, you should invest in the best knife you can afford. Which one? That depends on you. Go to a knife shop and hold several. One of them will whisper your name. Buy it.

Top 10 Useless Kitchen Gadgets...

2009-04-27T07:40:00.002-07:00

I'd share a picture of one of these contraptions, but I don't have one -- picture or contraption.

That's not to say I haven't had one or three of these "tools" in my kitchen at one time or another.

I have, but after discovering they were pretty much worthless, I donated them.

Why donate instead of toss? Because...

One cooks trash is another cook's treasure.

Even though I've found these doohickeys to be useless, that doesn't mean that someone else, who thinks their kitchen revolves around said items, is wrong. Unenlightened, perhaps, but definitely not wrong.

Teaching cooking classes in dozens of kitchen stores across the country has given me the opportunity to play with more clever-but-inane tools than you can shake a whisk at.

I love gadgets as much as the next cook, but the 10 items on this certifiably unscientific and utterly biased list, do not belong in the kitchen. At least not in mine.

Without further ado, here are the top 10 useless, and therefore don't-waste-your-money kitchen gadgets:

(drum roll, please...)

10. Grapefruit knife

The serrated edge is a good idea in theory, but it just tears the juice pockets. A paring knife works just as well.

9. Strawberry huller

It never works anyway, sometimes leaving bits of leaves behind, or worse, grabbing valuable flesh along with the core, which by the way, tastes just fine if the strawberry is at peak ripeness.

8. Asparagus peeler

Looks cool, but a regular peeler does the same job.

7. Spaghetti server

Tongs work just as well to grab and serve spaghetti. Save a slot in your drawer or utensil crock for another spatula or wooden spoon, both of which are much more versatile.

6. Hand held mini chopper

Never chops evenly. A chef's knife does a much better job.

5. Artichoke stand

Full disclosure: this is the only one on the list that I haven't personally tried, but seriously, a stand to set artichokes on for steaming? Must have been made by the same folks who made the vertical roasting stand for chickens, another gadget that belongs on this list.

4. Creme Brulee torch

Pul-leeze! Your arm will get tired before your sugar burns. Get yourself a real propane torch from Ace Hardware.

3. Avocado scoop

Always leaves behind the brightest green flesh, and I never seem to buy an avocado that's just the right size for this tool.

2. Egg separator

The best egg separator is attached to your arm.

1. Mango pitter

Good idea, bad execution. Every mango pit is different, so you either leave too much mango on the pit, or the pit is too large and the pitter gets stuck, so you end up making chunky mango puree from repeated attempts.

This I believe...

2009-04-24T07:42:00.002-07:00

A baker I am not. The whole scientific process intimidates me.

I still shudder when I think about the impact salt can have on yeast.

Did you know that salt can kill yeast? That’s heavy! How do I keep salt and yeast separated long enough for the yeast to have a fighting chance?

I believe bakers are different from normal, everyday folks. Bakers are born with an innate ability to judge things that I cannot.

They know what the dough should look and feel like, and how high it should rise before punching it down. And by punching, do they mean actually hitting the dough with brute force?

A baker's vocabulary is a secret code with undulating terms such as proofing and scaling, creaming, foaming and of course, the muffin method. It’s a conspiracy.

Bakers know what’s missing after only one bite of a cake or bread. My talented, if militant, Chef instructor in beginning baking class, took one bite of my angel food cake and said, “You forgot to add vanilla, didn’t you?”

How did she know that?

I tasted it and didn’t notice vanilla was missing. It tasted like a sugary but dry sponge. It is a sixth sense that I, as a savory cook, do not have.

Testing the bread and pastry recipes for my cookbooks proved to be enormously rewarding for me, and perhaps I learned more than I thought I did during six weeks of baking and pastry classes during my culinary training.

If I can bake breads and cakes, anyone can. You do have to follow the directions, as the ingredient amounts and seemingly inane processes are developed for a specific purpose, like creating a chemical reaction that causes the bread to rise.

It’s not as free form as creating a sauce, which is driven entirely by taste and appearance. But baking has its sweet rewards.

The smell of freshly baked bread is outdone only by the first bite into a hot buttered slice of soft, yeasty bread.

It’s worth the stress of mixing, kneading and punching and keeping the peace between salt and yeast.

Recommended bread books:

The Bread Baker's Apprentice by Peter Reinhart

The Bread Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum

Professional Baking, 5th Edition by Wayne Gisslen

Top Ten Dishes Best Left to the Restaurants

2009-04-23T06:23:00.003-07:00

Just because you can make a dish in your home kitchen doesn't mean that you necessarily want

It might be because of the mess (deep frying) or the lengthy ingredient list (mole) or the whole production of it all.

Or, maybe you lack certain professional equipment (a grill that burns at 1,700 degrees, for instance).

And frankly, certain foods just taste better when made by a talented chef and his or her crew.

Bonus? No dishes to clean up.

Here's our list of the top 10 dishes best left in the hands of a capable restaurant -- and why:

1. French fries

Let us count the ways way. First, there's the mess. And then hassle of double frying to produce crisp spuds. We even know a chef who thrice cooks his fries. What to do with all the left over oil?

2. Egg rolls

Or any Chinese food, for that matter. Too many ingredients, too much assembly required and too much deep frying.

3. Sashimi

Sushi chefs know how to get fresh fish, know how to cut it and nobody gets hurt. Unless it's blowfish.

4. Souffles

When a souffle falls at home before it reaches the table, that's not the only thing that deflates.

5. Tamales

It takes a village to make a tamale. That's why Mexicans make tamales at home only on special occasions, like Christmas and the birth of a child.

6. Soft shell crabs

First there's the matter of cleaning them (removing their guts if we're gonna get graphic). And then that frying thing.

7. Foie gras

Not only is there the beige matter that's high on the ick factor (removing the membrane), most home cooks don't know what to do with a lobe of foie gras -- and it's rather expensive for experimentation.

8. Steak

One could argue that grilling a steak at home is one of life's simple pleasures. But isn't cutting into a juicy steak that's just come off a 1,700 degree grill is much more pleasurable? Oh yeah, especially if butter poaching prior to grilling is involved.

9. Pizza

Unless you have installed a umpteen-thousand dollar pizza oven in your back yard (and you know who you are, MG), re-creating wood-oven, artisan pizza is best left to the experts; like the one in Phoenix, the only pizza maker who's won a James Beard award for it.

10. Any dish from The French Laundry

Even if you wanted to, you probably couldn't. That is not a slam about your cooking skills. It is a testament to the general mystique of dining under Thomas Keller's roof. You've at least seen the cookbook, yes?

So, what's on your list of dishes best left to restaurants? Indian curries or tandoori? Turtle soup or gumbo? How about goat? to.

Trend Spotter: Agave Nectar

2009-04-22T06:06:00.004-07:00

Tequila isn't the only byproduct of the agave cactus that chefs adore. Arizona's top toques have been sweetening dishes from appetizers to desserts with agave nectar for a while, and now other chefs (and cookbook authors) are catching on.

Kai, Arizona's only Mobil Five-Star restaurant, and Tonto Bar & Grill both use agave nectar extensively. That makes sense, as both restaurants focus on Native American and Southwestern cuisines, respectively. But chefs cooking all kinds of cuisines are also stocking up on the stuff.

For years, agave nectar was relegated to diet books and health magazines, but the fructose syrup has escaped the niche and is sweetening up restaurant menus and splashing the pages of cookbooks.

In fact, there is a cookbook devoted to baking with agave nectar called, shockingly, Baking with Agave Nectar. And Cal-Med goddess Joanne Weir trumps the desert syrup in her just released Tequila cookbook.

There are are two "strengths" of agave nectar. One is light, almost flavorless beyond the "sweet" flavor. The other is amber, which has a touch of flavor. Some say it tastes similar to honey, although agave nectar is not nearly as viscous as honey.

What's so great about agave nectar? Health experts still say it's "empty" calories, but if you're gonna load up on sugary sweets, agave nectar has some advantages.

For one, it's low on the glycemic index - it doesn't kick start digestive insulin like other types of sugars. And, because it's sweeter than sugar (1.4 times) you can use less of it.

But that's not why chefs use it. They use it because it dissolves quickly and it doesn't crystallize. And it's cool. As in hip.

Just for the halibut...

2009-04-21T06:09:00.002-07:00

Because A. J.'s Fine Foods had halibut on sale for $15.99 a pound, I bit. Isn't that a gorgeous pound of fish?

And while I was there, I noticed some plump shiitake mushrooms, big ones, so now I was beginning to picture my Saturday evening dinner.

Grilled halibut, marinated in a sherry mustard vinaigrette with a shiitake ragout (just a fancy name for sauteed veggies). Oh, and don't forget the caramelized onions, garlic and fresh herbs from my garden.

All of it would sit atop fresh baby spinach, dressed in the same sherry vinaigrette I used to marinate the halibut.

I know you're supposed to whisk the vinegar and other flavorings together before you slowly drizzle in the olive oil in an effort to create an emulsion, but I like to use little glass jars I've saved.

I just put some whole grain mustard in the jar with some minced garlic, some thyme leaves, a little salt and pepper and a pinch of sugar. Always a little something sweet in my vinaigrettes, just to take the edge off.

I'll shake up the flavorings, and then I'll pour in a little oil and shake. A little more oil and another shake, and repeat until I've used all the oil. It might not create the most emulsified emulsion, but it works for me, and shaking is a whole lot more fun than whisking, don't you think? Pour a couple tablespoons over the halibut and give a little rub. It can sit at room temperature while you forge ahead.

Now caramelize the onions in a little olive oil. I was in a bit of a rush, so I turned up the heat, which is why the onions are caramelizing unevenly. Chef Hutchins, my saucier culinary instructor, would be mortified. We won't tell him.

Throw the mushrooms in when the onions are getting nice and caramelized. After the mushrooms are tender, you can stir in the garlic.

Once that's fragrant, then you can deglaze the pan with a little sherry. I like Dry Sack. You could just use the sherry vinegar, but that will add a bit of a twang.

OK, it's time to get that grill going. Medium-high heat for searing.

Now we need a little red for the dish. I scraped the mushroom mixture into a bowl and used the same pan to saute up some chopped grape tomatoes with the fresh herbs from my garden.

Pretty sure I'd be washing up the pan anyway, so why use another pan? For the record, those tomatoes wouldn't mind a little drink of sherry, either.

Now it's time to grill the halibut. I cut the original fillet in half. One end was monsterously thick, the other, just plain ole thick, so I knew one of them would be spending a little more time in the incubator.

I grilled them flesh side down, creating grill marks, for about 3 minutes. Then I turned them, skin side down, and turned off just the burner below them to finish cooking with indirect heat. It took about 8 more minutes for the thick one, and 10 minutes for the monster thick one. Then off the grill to rest a bit before plating.

Oh, I removed the skin before I put them on top of the salad. Actually, the grill removed them. The skin was stuck to the grill because I forgot to oil them. C'est la vie.

And so the final dish looks like this: Spinach salad with sherry mustard grilled halibut, topped with sherry glazed shiitake mushrooms and caramelized onions, with herbed grape tomatoes and orange segments.

Just because I had an orange and it was time to use it.

The whole dish took just about an hour from start to finish.

Easy-peasy.

50 Quintessential American Dishes

2009-04-19T08:07:00.003-07:00

I just read a story about the top 10 dishes of Great Britain, and it got me thinking about what an American top 10 list would look like.

To be fair, our list has to be longer and not just because we're a nation of braggarts -- that would be a Texas list (and before you go all crazy on me, I'm from Texas and I say that with the utmost pride).

Geographically speaking, the USA is 38 times the size of Great Britain and population-wise, it's five times as large, ergo, we need a bigger list than just 10 dishes.

While I'm certain that I could come up with 380 dishes in a flash, in the interest of keeping your attention, I think I'll just rattle off 50.

To even begin talking about America's top dishes, you have to think both nationally and regionally. While it would be easy to list the top three as apple pie, hot dogs and ice cream, I want to delve a little deeper and pick dishes that not only define us as Americans, but ones that also reflect the melting pot that is our population.

We are a nation of immigrants. Only a few of us are descendants of Native Americans. Our foods are also reflective of this ethnic stew. Some of our foods are truly native: corn, beans and squash, for example. Others came with the Spanish (cows and pigs) and Africans (okra) and other settlers. Still others brought certain cooking techniques (the French and Germans specifically come to mind).

I'm not sure if 50 is long enough to reflect the diversity among our most recognized dishes, but it's a start. So, without further ado, here we go:

(drum roll, please)

50. Blackened redfish (thank you, Paul Prudhomme)

49. Root beer float

48. Pimiento cheese sandwich

47. Scrapple (although I'm not particularly fond of this, many, many Americans swear by it)

46. Frito pie (I'm particularly fond of this staple from my childhood)

45. Bundt cakes (any flavor, sour cream coffee cake is the most popular)

44. Green goddess dressing (over any kind of lettuce, perhaps romaine is traditional)

43. Chicken & dumplings

42. Maryland crab cakes

41. Whoopie pie (yippee!)

40. Jambalaya

39. Cioppino (San Francisco would be hurt if I left them out, they're sensitive that way)

38. Shoofly pie

37. Iceberg wedge with blue cheese dressing

36. Pecan sticky buns

35. Denver Omelet

34. Peach cobbler

33. New England clam chowder

32. Buttermilk pancakes

31. Brunswick stew

30. Philly cheesesteak

29. Chicken fried steak with cream gravy (don't forget the biscuits)

28. Fried rice (of course we fry the rice, we'll fry anything)

27. The Po'boy (oyster, shrimp or even roast beef for purists)

26. Shrimp & grits (I personally like the New Orleans style but the South Carolina version rocks, too)

25. Brown Betty

24. Cedar-planked salmon (Seriously? Only one Northwestern dish? I need to go to Portland)

23. Cobb salad

22. Meatloaf

21. King Ranch chicken casserole

20. Kansas City spareribs (notice I didn't say BBQ -- remember, I'm from Texas and we think we invented BBQ)

19. Succotash

18. Fried catfish

17. Soft shell crabs, fried of course

16. Black-eyed peas

15. Seafood gumbo

14.Wisconsin cheese soup

13. Collard greens (or mustard greens)

12. Grilled cheese (fancy schmancy or plain)

11. Mashed potatoes

10. Chicken pot pie

9. Bowl of chili (red, green, white or even Cincinnati-style with spaghetti)

8. Steamed Maine lobster

7. Chimichanga (yes, it was invented north of the border, although who was first is still in dispute)

6. Chocolate chip cookies

5. Mac & cheese

4. Shrimp cocktail

3. Southern fried chicken

2. Texas BBQ beef brisket

1. Turkey & dressing

...

(keep scrolling....)

...

(a little further...)

...

(almost there...)

...

(patience...)

0. The hamburger (had to include it -- it's my favorite)

Orange you glad it's Saturday?

2009-04-18T06:09:00.001-07:00

Guess my hand was shaking a bit while snapping this photo. Or, maybe it's just the natural sparkling glow of candied orange peel. Yeah, that must be it.

Making candied peel is a perfect weekend task. It takes a bit of work, but the result is worth it. Start with organic oranges, or if those aren't available, give the oranges a good scrubbing to remove the shiny wax they're sometimes coated with.

While you bring a big pot of water to boil, slice off a little of the top and bottom of 2 to 3 oranges, and then slice off the peel to the flesh. Cut the peel into 1/4-inch matchsticks. Set up a large bowl of ice water.

Gently boil the peel for a couple of minutes and then remove them with a slotted spoon to a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking. Do that two more times, blanching a total of three times.

Next, remove them to paper towels to dry, and scrape off most of the pith with a knife.

Pour 3 cups of sugar and 3 cups of water into a wide saucepan and bring just to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Stir in the dried orange sticks and cook until the sticks are tender, about 40 minutes. The mixture will reduce and thicken.

If you're so inclined, you can add a cinnamon stick, a star anise pod or two and/or whole cloves into the sugar water in the beginning to spice up the oranges.

Meanwhile, place another cup of sugar in a large bowl. Set a cooling rack in a sheet pan.

When the orange sticks are gooey-thick, remove with a slotted spoon and dump into the bowl of sugar and toss. Be very careful! The sugar syrup is extremely hot and you don't want to get any of it on you.

Space the sugared peels on the rack so they don't touch each other and let them dry for at least a day, maybe two.

Now, what to do with them? Eat them, of course.

Or dip one end in melted dark chocolate.

Or chopped them up and add to muffins or scones.

Or, wrap them in cellophane with a pretty bow and give to a friend.

Chef Showdown

2009-04-17T09:31:00.001-07:00

Don't forget about the Great American Picnic this weekend! Saturday (noon to 10 p.m.) and Sunday (noon to 6 p.m.). Admission is $10, and tasting tickets cost $1 each.

The Scottsdale Civic Center Plaza will be swarming with foodies sampling tastes from 50 different restaurants, and imbibing in the vodka tent, the margarita tent or in the beer garden.

If you can only go one day, pick Sunday and arrive before 1 p.m. That's when the Challenge to the Chefs takes place, pitting four rockin' chefs against each other in a crazy, timed competition with a mystery basket of ingredients.

The competitors: Aaron May (Sol y Sombra, Autostrada, Over Easy); Jeff Smedstad (Elote Cafe, Sedona), Tim Fields (Sushi Roku) and Wade Moises (Pasta Bar).

The GAP is always fun, and this culinary showdown just sweetens the deal. It's going to be hot, hot, hot on Sunday, so slather on the sunscreen, wear something light and breezy and go support the festival. See you there!

Trend Spotter: Eggish

2009-04-16T07:22:00.002-07:00

Trend: a line of general direction or movement.

I can't help but think that eggs on dinner menus is a rising trend.

The French and Spanish have served eggs for lunch and dinner for hundreds of years, so can it really be a trend if it's been around that long?

Apparently, we are just now catching on. Eggs are peppering the menus of some of the trendiest restaurants across the country. Here's just a sampling:

I tasted a smashing side dish at Zengo in Denver recently -- green beans sauteed with soy sauce and finished with scrambled eggs.

At L20 in Chicago, braised pork belly shares the plate with an egg, and York Street in Dallas serves duck three ways, garnished with a soft poached egg.

In Scottsdale, The Mission plates up arepas (open-faced sandwiches with cornmeal patties instead of wheat bread) with an optional topping of a fried egg.

At Christopher's, in the Biltmore Shopping Center in Phoenix, I had a lovely frissee salad topped with a gently poached egg and copious amounts of smoky bacon -- a classic French bistro dish, to be sure, but all of a sudden trendy again.

Take a look at the menu of your favorite restaurant. Do you spot an egg?

Chopping block...

2009-04-15T08:30:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, the only thing to do is to escape to the kitchen, pick up a knife and get to work.

No matter what kind of day I'm having, holding that knife makes everything (and sometimes everyone) else disappear. Who wants to come into the kitchen with a mad woman wielding a knife?

There is something therapeutic about slicing mushrooms, an onion, or any other vegetable. I am at home in the kitchen.

Peace comes with the simple motion of rocking a knife to and fro on a wooden cutting board. The sun streams through the big picture window above the sink, casting a warm glow over the board, my hand and my knife.

Others might run a warm bubble bath to erase the stress of the day. I pick up a MAC Santoku.

Roasted Butternut Squash

2009-04-14T10:47:00.003-07:00

Once upon a time, there was a cozy little cafe called Dragonfly. It was owned by a lovely young woman, who poured her heart and soul into the cafe, not to mention all of her time.

Dragonfly became a huge success, garnering awards left and right by the local media, and that just made the owner work harder and harder. Eventually, she sold the cafe because it was consuming her life -- and her health.

A friend emailed me the other day to say that she had dined at Dragonfly (under the new owners) and it was no longer the same. I already knew that because a little over a year ago, I reviewed the cafe for the local paper. We lamented about the demise of the signature salad - roasted butternut squash -- and so, in tribute, I roasted some butternut squash this weekend, recreating the lovely flavors of this fantastic salad. Almost.

I didn't make a cognac vinaigrette to go over the salad, but instead made a maple sherry vinaigrette. Below is a method for roasting butternut squash. Once roasted, you can serve it warm, or let it cool and top a salad with it. Dragonfly Cafe's signature salad, in addition to the roasted butternut squash and red onions, had toasted walnuts, bacon, goat cheese and port soaked raisins atop baby greens. Just lovely.

Roasted Butternut Squash

2 pounds butternut squash, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 red onion, peeled and cut into similar size cubes
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoon maple syrup
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silpat. Toss the squash and red onions with the oil and maple syrup. Season with salt and pepper. Roast for 20 to 25 minutes, stirring once, until squash is browned and the onion is tender.

Grilled Asparagus...

2009-04-13T09:12:00.001-07:00

Certain ingredients define the season, and for me, asparagus means it's finally Spring. I love nothing better than grilled asparagus. You can serve it hot, straight from the grill, or serve it room temperature, or even chilled. Grilling imparts a haunting, smoky flavor while diminishing the grassiness of the Spring stalk.

I peel the stalks of thick asparagus for two reasons. My friend and culinary mentor, Barbara Pool Fenzl, insists that asparagus should be peeled. Credit her French training or her friend, Jacques Pepin, who also believes peeling is essential.

Peeling allows you to keep more of the stalk, which on thick asparagus can sometimes be woody near the end. It also makes a prettier presentation. Here's a recipe for grilling asparagus. I've used a lemon garlic marinade, but you can use any flavoring, or none at all.

Grilled Asparagus with Lemon and Garlic

Serves 6

1-1/2 pounds thick speared asparagus
2 medium cloves of garlic, peeled and minced
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
zest and juice of 1 lemon
3 tablespoons olive oil (lemon flavored if you have it)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Trim asparagus to even lengths, then peel from just below the flowered tip. Place the asparagus in a shallow baking pan. Whisk together the remaining ingredients, and season with salt and pepper. Pour over the asparagus, tossing to coat. Marinate for 30 minutes up to 2 hours.

Heat the grill to medium-high (375-400 degrees). Drain the asparagus and discard the marinade. Place the asparagus on the grill. Grill for 3 to 4 minutes, moving the asparagus around a bit on the grill with tongs. Remove when the asparagus is still crisp tender, but shows signs of grill marks. Serve warm, or room temperature.

Fish Lips...

2009-04-11T10:42:00.002-07:00

Rearranging books on my shelf to make room for another, I pulled out a small, red, hardcover book called The Fine Art of Chinese Cooking, by Lee Su Jan. It was published in 1962, or that's what I'm guessing from the MCMLXII stamp near the copyright symbol.

Flipping through the book, I stopped on page 154. Fish Lips.

The ingredient list calls for 1/2 pound of treated fish lips. The first line under method says: soak fish lips for seven days, changing water daily.

Now, where does one get fish lips? What kind of fish have lips luscious enough for stewing?

The recipe also calls for chicken breasts and ham, part of the stewing mixture, but before the dish is served, the chicken and ham are discarded. Fascinating.

A bit of research tells me that groupers have fleshy lips, and are dried for preserving, hence the need for soaking for seven days to rehydrate. I also stumbled upon a recipe for fish maw. Maw is another word for bladder. I put the book back on the shelf.

Circle of life...

2009-04-10T16:09:00.003-07:00

I feel horribly guilty. Look at the simplistic beauty of these quail eggs. Now they're gone.

I've deprived the bull and rattlesnakes the pleasure of discovering these tasty morsels.

Actually, I made Jeff remove them. I was going to, but he happen to come home at the most opportune time. Finding me in tears, holding a plastic bag and glove, he asked what was wrong.

I led him to the side yard, where moments before I had lifted the metal washtub that blew over weeks ago. I had thought to myself as I was returning from dumping the trash that the overturned tub could easily be a hiding place for a snake.

We have lots of snakes. I know they are part of the circle of life, going about their business as they are genetically programmed to do, keeping rats and other varmints at bay.

I also know they love quail eggs. Must taste like caviar. So, the eggs must go.

I can't have snakes slithering through my yard because I have puppies that chase anything that moves, including their shadow.

Now I feel horribly guilty. Should I have saved them for breakfast, so at least their brief existence wasn't in vain? I don't even know if I can harvest them. Can I?

Later today, as I walk Skylar and Chloe, I'll turn my head the other way when I pass by the quail couples scurrying about. And, I'll probably cry. Again.

Thai one on...

2009-04-10T09:43:00.002-07:00

Normally I don't need an excuse to eat Thai food, but this just came across my desk and I'm wondering if I can do a Thai marathon next week.

Ten Phoenix area Thai restaurants are enticing diners to come celebrate the Thailand New Year, called Songkran, during national Thai Restaurant Week, April 13-19, with special dishes, discounts and Thai entertainment. Oh, and a chance to win a trip for two to Thailand.

Thai Bev, maker of Chang beer and Mekhong, a spiced sugar cane and rice spirit, is sponsoring the week long celebration.

The participating restaurants are: Swadee Thai (Chandler and Scottsdale locations) Thai Elephant (Phoenix and Tempe locations), Phoenix restaurants Wild Thaiger and Yupah's Thai Kitchen, Tempe's Tipps 88, Scottsdale's Malee's on Main and Thai Pan and Chandler's Thai Basil.

Power of the Pantry...

2009-04-09T08:48:00.003-07:00

I've always been a fan of V-8 Juice, especially the spicy hot flavor. Maybe it's because I like spicy flavors, or because I have a penchant for Bloody Marys.

The only thing I didn't particularly like was the amount of sodium (a whopping 710 mg per 8-ounce serving, or 30% of the USDA recommended daily allowance). So I switched to V-8 Low Sodium (140 mg of sodium per 8-ounce serving).

There was only one problem. Remove the salt and you remove some of the flavor. Salt is a flavor enhancer.

It's possible to "retrain" your taste buds, and many people do, through sheer mind-over-matter. But I'm not many people, and I just couldn't sacrifice taste for health. So, I came up with a solution.

What V-8 taketh away, my stocked pantry returnith.

Without adding any additional salt, I punched up the flavor of the low sodium V-8 juice by adding dashes of different spices.

My first experiment was green jalapeno powder. It added a nice after burn.

Next, I tried chipotle powder - a nice kick and smokiness.

Feeling embolden, I tried curry powder. W-O-W... what a nice combination. Many curries also include tomatoes, so curry powder and V-8 juice are a natural match.

I have a red curry powder from McCormick that's quite spicy, and I have Maharajah curry powder from Penzeys Spices that's not quite as hot but extremely aromatic with ginger, nutmeg, coriander, cumin, cardamom and cloves, among other spices. It transforms the juice from plain to exotic.

Now, how much to add? That depends upon your own particular taste -- and heat tolerance. I started with 1/4 teaspoon per 8 ounces, and for some of the pepper powders, that was plenty.

I add a smidgen more with the curry powders. If you find a flavor you particularly like, you can add enough for the whole container, but I like the flexibility of having a different flavor each morning.

I'm still exploring new flavor combinations. I just picked up a Mexican Adobo seasoning blend from Penzeys so I'm trying that next. Sometimes I squirt in a bit of lemon or lime juice, both flavor brighteners.

In other words, I guess I just can't leave well enough alone. V-8 juice is good for me. And with my flavor tricks, it's even better.

Sexy Onions...

2009-04-07T15:17:00.002-07:00

No, the title isn't an oxymoron, although I guess we don't normally think of onions as sexy.

Fresh peeled fava beans, yes. A bowl of diced, pungent white onions? No.

In fact, it might even seem a little offensive, but what would a bowl of chili be without a spoonful of diced onions?

There are associations for just about every food on the planet. There's the egg board, the pork council, the fig growers association and so on.

Imagine trying to market onions. Yet onions are the pillar, the unsung hero, if you will, of almost every cuisine.

Last week, I was strolling through the exhibit hall at a culinary conference, elbowing my way through the crowd to taste incredible American lamb, buttery cheeses from Wisconsin, and deep, dark, organic chocolate.

And then I turned the corner and saw the onion booth. Not very exciting, you say? On the surface, it may seem that way, but to me, there is nothing sexier than caramelized onions -- sweet, rich, utterly delicious.

Smartly, the National Onion Association decided to serve caramelized onions, a pile of jammy, chipotle infused onions served atop a plain, thin cracker, just something to hold the mound of lusciousness without getting in the way of the flavor.

Caramelizing onions is a simple process, but it takes time. If I know I'm going to be cooking for 45 minutes anyway, I'll caramelize a pan of onions at the same time, even if I don't plan to use them that evening. Caramelizing onions takes anywhere from 30 to 60 minutes, depending upon the technique.

If you can give your undivided attention, you can caramelize onions in about 30 minutes using high heat and a lot of elbow grease.

On the other hand, if you want to slowly coax the natural sugars out of the onions, plan on 60 minutes, but you don't have to give the process your full attention until the last 15 minutes.

You can caramelize any type of onion. Red, yellow, white, sweet, cipollini, pearl or even spring or green onions, although the green (scallions) onions are lower in natural sugar, and therefore aren't quite as partial to caramelizing. You can use olive oil or butter. A pinch of sugar is fine, too, although I've found most onions, especially sweet onions, don't really need added sugar.

The darker you caramelize your onions, the deeper the flavor, but you'll need to stir constantly near the end to prevent scorching. After I've caramelized onions to a deep, mahogany brown, I like to splash in a little acid (like orange juice or white wine) and deglaze the pan, adding another layer of flavor. Last night, I used grapefruit juice.

Bonnie, one of my readers, told me that she squirts spicy mustard over hot, caramelized onions and uses it as a topping for turkey burgers. I like to stir in a little barbecue sauce to create a pork chop topping. Caramelized onions are fabulous folded into a meatloaf before baking, or stirred into steamed broccoli.

I also love to spread them on a toasted pita, sprinkle with a little crumbled goat cheese and top with chopped, fresh sage. Or, deglaze red caramelized onions with a little Port wine, and serve with a juicy, New York Strip steak.

Now, doesn't that sound sexy? mmmmmm.

Slow, Sexy Caramelized Onions

Makes just under a cup of caramelized onions

3 large red, yellow or sweet onions (about 1-1/2 pounds)
1 tablespoon olive oil or butter
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Slice onions in half lengthwise (stem to root). Peel. Slice crosswise into half moons, about 1/4-inch thick. Heat the oil or butter in a large skillet over medium heat and add onions. Cook, stirring occasionally to coat onions in the fat. When onions are just translucent, about 8 minutes, lower heat to medium-low and cook until golden brown, stirring frequently, about 40 minutes. Return heat to medium and cook, stirring constantly, until onions are deep, mahogany brown. Season with salt and pepper.

For a song...

2009-03-28T11:02:00.003-07:00

Warning! This is not a food post. Proceed with caution...

Meet Skyclo. Skyclo is the ultimate, low maintenance pet.

More expensive than a chia pet, but so much more appealing.

We picked up Skyclo for a song (the Beatles complete anthology, for price reference.)

Kidding, but still, Skyclo wasn't cheap.

I was lingering a bit too long over the little guy and the boutique shop girl came over to ask if I was interested in buying him.

Me: "How much?"

Her: "$5."

Me: "Five bucks??!!"

Her: "Uh, no. $500.00"

Me: "Holy @#$%!"

And then I walk away, dazed and confused. I look around the adorable little dog shop on Main Street in Park City, thinking I should trade in my chef's knife for a hunk of clay.

A couple minutes later, shop girl says, "My boss really wants to move these things, so I can offer you a deal on the little Westie." Really, I say, looking around at approximately 30 other dog breeds sitting on shelves.

I spot the hairless dog. Funny, it's the only ceramic sculpture with hair. A little tuft protruding from his little skull.

"How does $300.00 sound?" she twerps. Uh, no, I say, although I am beginning to realize that these are really works of art.

"OK! $200.00. That's as low as I can go," she says. SOLD! I say. And that's how we acquired our third dog. We named him Skyclo, after our other two, um, more vocal Westies: Sklyar and Chloe.

A couple days later, I wandered back to the pet boutique, only to discover that it had closed. I forgot to get information about the artist, and after an exhaustive internet search (5 minutes), I can't seem to find anything about this artist, so I can't point you in the right direction in case you were interested in having one of your own.

$200.00 isn't cheap, I know, and my friends have laughed at me for spending that much, but it is still cheaper than having a real dog. I know because I still have two. Now, if I can just get them all three to sit together for a family portrait.

World's most expensive granola

2009-03-24T10:35:00.002-07:00

Well, it would be, if anyone bothered to package and sell it. It could also carry the moniker, "World's Best Granola."

The recipe is in two of my cookbooks, and I'm quite certain that the five tons of granola samples I handed out hocking my books all over the country is the reason I sold so many books.

The original recipe came from Martha McGinnis, a former chef at the world-class Triple Creek Ranch in Montana. I knew it was great granola after the first bite, but there was something about it that bothered me.

You have to roast hazelnuts. Have you ever roasted hazelnuts? What a pain in the ass butt. Papery flecks of skin float all over the place. I'm sure, if you looked hard enough, you could find a piece of hazelnut skin somewhere in my kitchen and I've not roasted hazelnuts in 5 years.

So I tweaked Martha's recipe, replacing the hazelnuts with walnuts. Much easier. I also tweaked the sugar composition. She originally called for honey OR maple syrup. I use both because I love the stickiness from the honey and the flavor of maple syrup. And I use Grade B maple syrup because, as Christopher Kimball so eloquently says, "no self-respecting Vermonter would ever use Grade A." I'm not from Vermont but if I was, I wouldn't use Grade A either. Grade A is for wimps.

I also only use dried blueberries and dried tart cherries, compounding the expensive part. Enough blabbering... here's my recipe from both The Great Ranch Cookbook and The Cool Mountain Cookbook, with my newest tweaks. Just promise me that you won't sit down and eat the whole batch at once -- a promise that is actually harder than it sounds.

Triple Creek Granola (with a few tweaks)

Makes 18 cups

1 (18-oz.) container of old-fashioned oats (not quick cooking)
1-1/2 cups sliced raw almonds
1-1/2 cups raw pepitas*
1-1/2 cups raw walnut pieces
1-1/2 cups sweetened coconut
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon light brown sugar
3/4 cup honey
3/4 cup Grade B maple syrup
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1-1/2 cups dried blueberries
1-1/2 cups dried tart cherries

Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Toss the first 7 ingredients (oats through brown sugar) together in a large pot. Heat the honey, maple syrup and oil in a small sauce pan over low heat just until warm. Pour over oats mixture and stir until all ingredients are coated. Spread on two lined baking sheets. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove from oven and stir and return to oven in 5 minute increments, stirring after each 5 minutes. It takes about 20 to 25 minutes in total. Remove from oven and scrape each baking sheet contents into a separate, large roasting pan. Divide the dried fruit evenly between the two pans and stir. Continue to stir occasionally as the granola cools to break up lumps. Cool completely before storing in an airtight container. You can freeze the granola for up to 3 months (like it's going to last that long.)

*pepitas are green pumpkin seeds (actually, they are the inner seed of a pumpkin seed, which is white, and you can find them in health food stores if your grocery store doesn't carry them.)

Most underrated yellow vegetable

2009-03-23T17:44:00.002-07:00

If there was an awards ceremony for vegetables, spaghetti squash might just win the most underrated category. It's one of those vegetables that looks harder to cook than it actually is, so I think cooks bypass the squash bin at the grocery store, heading instead for sweet potatoes. The truth is cutting it open is the most difficult part of cooking the it (any winter squash, really, and among the winter squashes, it's one of the easiest to cut, you just need a big chef's knife).

After cutting the squash in half and scooping out the seeds, place the squash cut side down on a lined baking sheet. Pour in about 1/4 of water to keep it from burning and roast in a 350 degree oven for roughly 30 minutes. While the squash is roasting, you can whip up a few other ingredients and in the end, you'll have a vegetarian spaghetti with a simple marinara sauce, and get a good dose of greens, too, in about 45 minutes, or less.

My marinara sauce is embarrassingly simple. Dice half a large onion (any color, I used red because that's what I had) and saute it in a healthy splash of olive oil. Once it's tender, about 5 minutes, stir in minced garlic (as much as you like). As soon as the garlic smells wonderful, a minute or two, pour in 1/4 cup of white wine. Cook until the wine is almost reduced, and then add a can of diced tomatoes with the juice (I like Muir Glen organic tomatoes, and if fire-roasted, all the better). Stir in a generous teaspoon of dried Italian herbs and then simmer until thickened, about 20 minutes.

While the sauce bubbles, have some wine and toast some pine nuts. I like an Oregon or Californian Pinot Gris with this dish. Or, on second thought, toast the nuts first, and then have wine. You have to watch them or they'll burn. Throw a handful of nuts in a dry skillet and toast over medium heat until browned, tossing frequently. It'll take about 5 minutes. Once the nuts are done, saute up some Swiss chard.

I cut chard from the stems and then roughly chop the leaves before soaking them in a salad spinner to remove any dirt. Spin them dry and saute with a generous splash of olive oil in a skillet, maybe add a little garlic, salt and pepper. After the leaves are wilted, cover the skillet and turn the heat to low. It should take about 10 minutes to turn them into soft, tender greens. While the greens are steaming to tenderness, you can scrape the spaghetti squash into lovely yellow strands with a fork, and season with salt and pepper. Place a mound of squash in a pasta bowl and top with the marinara sauce, pine nuts and a sprinkling of Parmesan. Scatter the greens around the squash and now, in less than 45 minutes, you have a healthy, delicious, vegetarian spaghetti dish.

Word Game....

2009-03-22T08:08:00.002-07:00

It started with a simple tweet request from the Smittenkitchen, (one of my favorite food blogs because Deb's voice is snappy, her pictures are outrageously gorgeous and she's one of a handful of very, very successful food bloggers - which is why she's listed over there on the right under Best Food Blogs).

She asked "Grammar nuts, I need your help: Corn bread is one word or two? I see it both ways but I'm not sure which is right.Thanks!"

I took the challenge and did a little research from my fairly extensive resource library (over my shoulder in my home office). I first consulted my go-to guide, Webster's New World Dictionary of Culinary Arts (full disclosure: I'm very good friends with one of the co-authors.) Corn bread is two words, according to this resource guide.

Next, I looked at the Recipe Writer's Handbook (Revised and Expanded) by Ostmann and Baker. There, on page 169, in the chapter of preferred spellings of commonly used food words, is corn bread. Two words. The introduction to the chapter does say that many of these words have more than one spelling and once you decide on the spelling you want to use, stick with it. Consistency trumps absolutes.

Then I checked the Association of Food Journalists Foodspell: A Guide to Style & Spelling for Food Terms, Both Common & Exotic. It, too, listed corn bread as two words. I was beginning to feel pretty confident that corn bread is two words, not one.

That same afternoon, my newest food reference book arrived (I collect them like some people collect ceramic frogs). The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink, edited by Andy Smith, weighs in at nearly five pounds, so it's sort of a combination reference book/barbell. Lo and behold, I encounter my first cornbread reference. Huh.

And then I searched my own blog, and found that I've mentioned cornbread -- twice. One word, yet here I was making a case for corn bread. Go figure.

In the meantime, I see that SmittenKitchen has posted about cornbread -- one word. Deb's reference source was the late, great, Sharon Tyler Herbst's Food Lover's Companion. And even my standard desk top dictionary, the New College Edition The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, on page 297, says "corn bread" followed by "Also cornbread."

So there you have it. Corn bread is definitively spelled corn bread. Or, cornbread.

Chocolate and fill-in-the-blank

2009-03-21T09:13:00.004-07:00

A couple of years ago, I worked on a food trend analysis for a client, and one of the trends I noticed was flavored chocolate bars. Not just any old flavor, though. No, definitely some "out there" flavorings were popping up in the gourmet marketplace.

The first brand I noticed was Vosges, and what was so unusual, besides the shockingly high price tag (I think the first bar I bought was $6, and some are selling for close to $8 today...for 3 ounces) was that they were pushing the envelope beyond normal flavorings for chocolate.

Vosges was incorporating ginger, chiles, wasabi, sesame seeds, and bacon into their haute bars of chocolate. It was mind-blowing. Some even sparked delight. The red fire exotic bar is exciting: delicate Ceylon cinnamon, spicy ancho and chipotle chiles swirled in deep, dark chocolate.

The Mo's Bacon Bar...eh, not so much. It wasn't that I didn't love the dark milk chocolate (41% cacao). The smoky bacon just completely overwhelmed the chocolate taste. These days, every pastry chef worth his or her salt is putting bacon on the menu, so combining bacon and sweets isn't unusual. And in many cases it works.

I just didn't think the Mo's Bacon Bar worked. Still don't. And they've recently introduced an organic enchanted mushroom bar (dark chocolate and mushrooms). Could their chocolate designers be tripping?

Not to be outdone, Theo Chocolates has introduced a line of flavored bars called Theo 3400 Phinney (the address of the Seattle based factory). I've been hearing lots of chatter from the foodie world that these Theo bars are "to live for." They're organic and labeled fair trade certified. So I decided to check them out, you know, for you.

I bought three flavors: coconut curry (40% cacao milk chocolate); bread & chocolate (70% cacao dark chocolate); and fig, fennel & almond (70% cacao dark chocolate). All are 2 ounces and retail about $3.75.

Overall, the chocolate tastes superior to the Vosges bars. Perhaps because they're thicker, or Theo takes a lighter hand with the flavorings or perhaps the chocolate really is better.

B+ : If you're not a fan of yellow curry powder, better skip the coconut curry milk chocolate bar, as it's the predominate flavor. Love the texture of the minced coconut.

A- : Not sure I get the flavor of the toasted bread crumbs that are listed in the ingredient list on the bread and chocolate bar, but it is a little crunchy and the chocolate is dark and rich.

C : I personally love licorice, just not sure it's working in this fig, fennel and almond dark chocolate bar. I hardly taste the almonds and the fig is understated, too, except for the tiny crunch of fig seeds.

Corned Beef and Cabbage Soup

2009-03-20T11:46:00.003-07:00

If I had known just how easy corned beef and cabbage was to make all along, I would have made it every St. Patrick's Day, and probably a few more times throughout year.

I never connected that this Irish dish was nothing more than a simple pot roast, only made with a brisket injected with a spiced salt brine.

Originally, I had planned to put the pot in the oven, but then my oven died, or so I thought. (As an aside,the oven miraculously resurrected herself and the service man I called out thinks I'm nuts.)

So I finished it on top of the stove, which is a bit more traditional. I also threw everything into the pot at once, but after the three hours it took to cook the beef to tender, the vegetables cooked to mush, so next time, I'll cook the beef for about an hour and a half, and then put the vegetables in.

The other "revelation" is that leftover corned beef and cabbage turns into a lovely soup. I knew the leftover beef could be used for Ruben sandwiches and corned beef hash, but I wasn't sure what to do with a mountain of leftover mushy vegetables. They tasted wonderful from cooking with the spiced corned beef, but the texture was too akin to baby food.

So I put the vegetables in a pot, covered them with low sodium chicken stock and eventually pureed the whole thing with some canned chick peas for thickness. I chopped some of the beef to add as a garnish, and voila! Corned beef and cabbage soup.

Peppercorn Love...

2009-03-19T09:53:00.001-07:00

Seriously, how many kinds of pepper does one cook need?

Black, sure. White? OK.

But when you start veering off into what kind of black pepper (Malabar, Lampong, Tellicherry, etc.) it gets kind of nuts.

But that's not all I have in my pantry.

There's Szechuan (from China), Aleppo (from Turkey), and pink peppercorns (which aren't peppercorns at all, but have a peppery flavor and look like peppercorns, only shockingly pink). I have two kinds of white pepper, the darker Muntok and the whiter (more expensive) Sarawak.

Green peppercorns live in two places in my household: swimming in brine (in the fridge) and dehydrated, snuggled up next to my black, white and pink peppercorns. If nothing else, I run an equal opportunity pantry. No discrimination here.

In all, I have ten different peppercorns (counting the pink ones, even though we've already established that they aren't true peppercorns.) I don't think we should go into how many pepper grinders I have.

Is there really a taste difference between the Indonesian Lampong and the Indian Tellicherry peppercorns? Yes, but it's not earth-shatteringly-dramatic. The only way to discern the difference is to taste them, and that gets kind of hot after a while, but you can pick up different flavor notes. The Lampong is earthy. The Tellicherry has fruity notes. Both leave a nice after burn.

Pepper, right after salt, of course, is the most important seasoning ingredient in a cook's arsenal. I'm not saying you need to have ten different peppercorns, but you should have peppercorns as opposed to pre-ground pepper, and grind them fresh every time to get the real power of this heady spice.

My go-to source for peppercorns is Penzeys Spice Company. Another great source is Flavorbank, based out of Tucson, Arizona. It's where I picked up the earthy Lampong pepper.

Everyone needs a little spice in their life. I, apparently, need lots.

Cookbook Review...

2009-03-18T08:49:00.003-07:00

Outstanding in the Field: A Farm to Table Cookbook by Jim Denevan with Marah Stets

Facts: Published 2008 by Clarkson Potter, hardcover, 256 pages, $32.50

Photos: almost every page, food and farm dinner scenes

Recipes: 110

Give to: Your farmer and/or foodie groupie friends and wealthy friends you want to convert from chain steakhouses to the joys of eating locally.

Review: If you haven’t hear about the near cult-like farm dinners popping up all over the country called Outstanding in the Field, don’t feel left out. It’s tough to score a ticket to one of the farm dinners unless you’re on their email list or otherwise connected – deeply – in the local food world where the tour happens to stop.

Thirty-seven farm dinners were held in 2008, under the Outstanding in the Field banner, including one on October 12 at Crooked Sky Farm in Glendale, AZ. (Sadly, there is no AZ stop on the 2009 schedule.)

But you can buy their new cookbook that chronicles some of the adventures of founder Chef Jim Denevan and his merry band of cooks and event planners. At $32.50 (even less on Amazon.com), the cookbook is cheaper than a ticket to a farm dinner anyway, which ranges from $180 to $220 per person (for four to six courses, all paired with wine.)

Outstanding in the Field started as one dinner at a farm in Corallitos, California in 1999 and today hosts dinners at farms from coast to coast. We give high marks to the cookbook for the simplicity of the recipes, and the occasional “if you can’t find “x” ingredient, substitute “y” and the sheer number of mouthwatering photographs.

We almost feel like guests from the pictures of the farms where the dinners took place and the warm, conversational tone the authors use to introduce the recipes and in the essays sprinkled throughout the book, like the one on the virtues of fresh, unfiltered olive oil.

As one would expect with a farm themed cookbook, the bulk of the recipes feature garden-fresh produce for salads, soups, pasta, grains and vegetable dishes. Deep-fried okra with a buttermilk-semolina crust, rainbow chard tart and baby turnip soup are just a few of the tempting sounding ones.Fish, poultry and meat get their due as well: black cod wrapped in fig leaves, grass-fed beef skirt steak, and pan seared duck breast with pomegranate sauce.

The back of the book is stuffed with all kinds of goodies: suggested menus, ingredient sources and charitable organizations that all support the “eat local” mantra. We whipped up a batch of delicious savory pecan, Parmesan and thyme shortbread cookies (page 25) with no trouble thanks to very detailed directions, although ours didn’t turn out as “photogenic” and they crumbled like sand when we tried to bag them up to give as gifts. They also melted in our mouth…yum.

More info: outstandinginthefield.com is the official website, and their blog chronicles the tour – outstandingontour.blogspot.com.

West of Western Wrap-Up

2009-03-16T09:50:00.003-07:00

Thirty restaurants, more than 100 wines, two sun-soaked afternoons and I'm toast.

I'm talking about the West of Western Culinary Festival that took place this past weekend at the Phoenix Art Museum.

Other food writers are going to give you more details about the specifics -- which chef did what dish -- in greater detail than I will. (Coming soon, entertaining wrap-ups from Howard Seftel from The Arizona Republic, Carey Sweet in the Scottsdale Republic, and Jess Harter's already posted his East Valley Tribune summary).

But I do have a couple of observations that I'd like to add.

First, if you are a restaurant junkie, this festival needs to be on your schedule for next year. West of Western attracts some (I'm wondering why not all) of the top tables in town.

It also showcases the talent behind some of the top hotel and resort restaurants: the Four Seasons, the Phoenician, Wild Horse Pass (restaurant Kai, the only Mobil 5-star restaurant in Arizona), The Wyndham (we have a Wyndham?) and the Sheraton downtown, the Fairmont Scottsdale, two Marriotts (Camelback Inn and JW Marriott at Desert Ridge, the new Montelucia Resort, the Pointe Hilton at Tapatio Cliffs, and even La Posada in Winslow.

Noticeably missing were Binkley's (and Cafe Bink), Los Sombreros, Barrio Cafe, Tonto Bar & Grill and Cartwright's, Lon's at the Hermosa Inn, the new Mission, Christopher's, Vincent's, Sea Saw, Cowboy Ciao, Digestif (although Chef Curry did a demo), and many more.

Some chefs put more into this festival than others. And the festival goers noticed. (A blob of burrata from Prado? Bland garlic panna cotta that blended into the white plate from the new, hip Posh?)

Some chefs went for shock and awe: Kai handed out four samples, including my favorite, pulled lamb on fry bread with fig and curry "mud", Quiessence dazzled with at least 10 (I lost count). Roka Akor grilled Moroccan spiced lamb chops that perfumed all of central Phoenix and presented elegant butterfish tataki.

Tapino did a different kind of shock: foie gras ice cream float with local Sonora Brewing Co. root beer. There wasn't much of a foie gras taste, but he did get a lot of attention, at least until he ran out before 2 p.m., with still 2 more hours of the festival to go.

But here's the thing, most of the restaurants missed the opportunity to connect with their target market. Sure, they handed out generous samples, but very few took advantage of their captive audience by marketing their restaurants. They could have been handing out critical information.

If I were a restaurant giving away that much free food, I'd also create a small flyer with what the dish was (so the customer could remember it later, because frankly, after eating thirty samples, who can remember what? Who did that delicious seared scallop atop mushroom cream, or the cocoa nib dusted scallop, or the scallop on top of the farro salad and wasn't there one more scallop dish --all on Saturday?)

The flyer needs a few other things, too, perhaps a few key menu items on it, maybe tout a fabulous happy hour or at the very least, promote the restaurant's website. SOMETHING.

Huge kudos to the organizers and volunteers are in order as the festival ran as smooth as the Ecuadorian chocolate pudding from Kai. The boy scout volunteers kept the trash empty and the festival staff kept the water tubs full. Cooking demonstrations, culinary lectures and short food-focused films gave eaters a chance to take a break, clear out some tummy room before heading back through the gastro gaunlet.

All in all, the festival was fabulous -- again. I know that as I took each sample, I made sure I asked what it was, and then I thanked the chef for being there, making the festival worth the ticket price. Even though I'm pointing out some shortcomings of some chefs, I so appreciate them coming and feeding us, giving us a glimpse into their fascinating world of creativity.

Because, at the end of the day, I am a restaurant junkie, just like all the other festival goers.

Palatte becomes blank canvas...

2009-03-13T10:04:00.003-07:00

When I read on Chow Bella this week that the adorable, quirky Palatte restaurant was closing, my heart sank a bit -- I loved that restaurant.

Chow Bella reports that the 4th Avenue and Filmore Street breakfast/lunch spot "got an offer they couldn't refuse." That's the good news. The bad news is we lost gem.

I penned a review for AZ Central.com a few months after they opened in 2007, in which I opened with:

"I'm quite certain that no matter what I write in this review, the newly opened Palatte in the historic Cavness house...will be crazy busy for a long time to come."

That, of course, was well before the economic meltdown last fall. And truth be told, after I wrote the review, I probably only visited Palatte as a regular customer a handful of times, even though it was a favorite.

I'm going to cop out and blame proximity...the restaurant is more than 30 miles from my house. It's got me thinking, though, about some other favorite restaurants of mine, and perhaps I should be a little more diligent in returning to them.

As a foodie, it's easy to get caught up in chasing the next new restaurant. It's kind of like wanting a puppy because it's cute. But eventually the puppy grows up and isn't so cute anymore, but it's still a living, breathing creature and needs love and attention.

Need a New Food Job?

2009-03-11T09:57:00.003-07:00

As a food writer, lots of things come across my desk -- new products, new books, new this, new that. Occasionally, I'm impressed enough to share with you. Like today, when I received some info about a new book by Irena Chalmers.

I thought I recognized her name, and a quick glance at my library revealed why...another book by Ms. Chalmers, The Great FOOD Almanac, which won an IACP/Julia Child award and was nominated for a James Beard award, is on my shelf.

Ms. Chalmers has come up with a new culinary job for herself -- a food job coach, so to speak. And, to launch her new career, she's written a book for anyone interested in landing a job in the culinary field.

Whether you're looking for a job in a restaurant, the media, culinary education or even farming, this book has details that you need to know about. Like how to go about landing that job, and what exactly that job is all about.

And if you don't know what you want, this book will help you think about the usual suspects -- chef, restaurant manager, food writer -- an some unusual ones: chewing gum taster or fortune cookie writer. My guess is the last two are, um, not as lucrative as the first three, but hey, somebody's gotta do it.

Binkley's Wine Dinner...

2009-03-09T10:19:00.003-07:00

If I hadn't already blown my birthday money on the West of Western festival, I'd definitely blow it on this upcoming wine dinner at Binkley's Restaurant in Cave Creek, featuring Frank Family Vineyards from Napa, and sponsored by AZ Wines of Carefree (my favorite boutique wine shop.)

The six course dinner starts at 6:30 p.m. on Monday, March 23rd ($120++) begins with passed hors d'oeuvres and bubbles, followed by an asparagus course with baby beets, chevre mousse, and Meyer lemon zabaglione. Then there is vanilla gnocchi with snow peas, brown butter crusted grouper, 5-spice seared duck breast with a huckleberry pancake, root beer braised short ribs, and finally, a chocolate raisin parfait, served with a Frank Family port, of course.

Wow! I didn't list all the accouterments under each course, or mention the individual wines that will be paired with each course, but I can promise you that the dinner will be spectacular and worth every cent. So if you've not splurged on something in a while, you might want to consider this dinner.

And if you're feeling super generous, pick me up at 6:15.

West of Western Festival...

2009-03-06T09:59:00.004-07:00

Happy Birthday to me!

I just bought tickets to next weekend's West of Western culinary festival. Sort of my own birthday present to myself. I mean, what could be a better present for a foodie than a ticket to a food and wine festival?

We're really blessed with a variety of food festivals. There's the grand dame (Scottsdale Culinary Festival coming in April -- it's 31st year), the baby (Eats3, the second event is scheduled for October 22-24), and this 5th annual West of Western. All of them add up to a foodie fantasy bar none.

Next weekend, the West of Western returns to the Phoenix Art Museum for the second year, a much better venue than the grounds at the Arizona Center where the festival began.

In addition to top toque talent setting up booths and handing out generous samples of their fare, the festival has some chef demos and classes lined up that will give you a chance to digest your food a bit before tent hopping again.

I want to mention a handful of these demos and seminars -- all of them celebrate the diversity of our desert foods.

Pamela Hamilton, publisher of Edible Phoenix will dish on ancient chocolate elixirs, Andy Broder will make magic with mole, Candy Lesher will present packets of pleasure - green corn tamales, and Barbara Fenzl will handle hot and not, chiles. Click here to see more about these and other classes during the two day festival.

Last year, I attended both days, following Chef Jack Strong from Kai around on Sunday for an Edible Phoenix article. This year, I'm looking forward to just being a guest. Hope to see you there.

Making Yogurt Cheese...

2009-03-05T11:39:00.002-07:00

It's really quite simple, you know, making yogurt cheese. I don't know why I never attempted it before.

Every once in a while I need a cup of plain yogurt for a recipe, and I never can find a small container. It's always at least a pound or two. Why is that? Do yogurt manufacturers think that we can't possibly only need a cup?

Instead of throwing away the rest of my 2 pound container, I decided I would make yogurt cheese. I'd heard about it, but it seemed really too simple. I mean, I read Gourmet after all. Nothing in Gourmet is simple. I bet they've never printed a yogurt cheese recipe.

I lined a strainer with several layers of cheesecloth and spooned in about 2 cups of plain yogurt, and folded over the cheesecloth on top. I covered the strainer top with plastic wrap and set the strainer in a larger bowl, to catch the liquid (whey). I set the bowl in the refrigerator and waited 24 hours.

When I uncovered the cheese cloth, I had a nice little mound of yogurt cheese, and about a half a cup or maybe a little more of whey in the bottom of the bowl. I discarded the whey, although you could keep it and stir it into sauces or soups for some added flavor. Tasting the yogurt cheese reminded me of creme fraiche -- tangy, creamy and frankly delicious. Now I need to figure out what to do with it.

I think I'll spread it on some toast first. Perhaps Ooh La La, my favorite bread from Simply Bread. Yes, that's a great idea! Ooh La La is a dense, multi-grain bread studded with dried cranberries, raisins and walnuts. Mmmm. Perfect.

Downtown Phoenix is Alive...

2009-03-02T10:25:00.003-07:00

Downtown Phoenix was a happening place this past Saturday. I mentioned in a previous post that we were headed to the Downtown Phoenix Public Market for a big announcement. Pamela Hamilton, publisher of Edible Phoenix presented Cindy Gentry, dubbed "Market Mom" by supporters and fans, with the Local Hero non-profit award, saying that the market would be retired to the Local Hero Hall of Fame, after snagging the award for three years in a row. But that wasn't the BIG announcement.

The BIG announcement was a BIG fat check from the Phoenix Industrial Development Authority -- $250,000 to be exact. The money will be used to open the indoor market. The downtown market, celebrating it's fourth anniversary, has been raising money to convert the historic brick building next to the market's parking lot into a year round store, cafe and gathering spot that will operate five days a week, while still holding the outdoor market on Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings.

The farmers market wasn't the only place to be last Saturday. Just up the road, at the Margaret T. Hance Park behind the library, the fourth annual WorldFEST was happening, an outdoor festival celebrating Phoenix sister cities. Tents featuring the sister cities, including Ennis, Ireland, Taipei, Taiwan and Hermosillo, Mexico, among others, entertained spectators with educational activities for the children and literature about these cities.We scarfed on outrageously delicious barbecue from Big Belly's BBQ, a local caterer. Best dish? The BBQ sundae: a cup of shredded, smoked pork, spicy pinto beans and topped with creamy coleslaw and a drizzle of sweet, tangy BBQ.

Hopping on the light rail down to Washington Street, we found the Firefighter's Chili Cook-Off. How I managed to down a few chili cups after a bowl full of BBQ, I'll never know. As we exited the Chili Cook-Off, we came face to face with a protest march. The "March to Stop the Hate," rally, sponsored by the National Day Laborers was in progress, with thousands of marchers -- young, old, White, Hispanic, Black, and every color in between -- were Marching down Central with banners, mostly calling for the local Sheriff to go. A few Sheriff supporters -- all White from what we could see -- stood on the sidewalks holding we support Joe (the controversial sheriff).

At that moment, I felt really proud to be an American, where we are free to protest if we choose, free to mosey through street fairs and farmers markets. And then this morning, I read that downtown Phoenix is in the process of re-branding itself. The new brand is "Arizona's urban heart." You can feel the heartbeat, whether you're supporting the local firefighters or the downtown farmers market, connecting with sister cities across the globe to celebrate our diversity, or marching in a peaceful protest. Yes, indeed, downtown Phoenix is alive.

Don't eat this at home...

2009-02-25T10:28:00.005-07:00

Sometimes you want to root for the home girl.

Last weekend, we went to the Phoenix farmers market (the one downtown). I'd heard that Chef John Sharpe from La Posada in Winslow, AZ (yes, same town as the Eagles crooned something about standing on a corner) was going to be at the market with his new cookbook.

Dang, he had strep throat and couldn't make it.

So we meandered the market anyway. The Tamale Store had printed a huge new banner that had the cover of the March PHOENIX Magazine, and my article about their utterly delicious tamales on full display at their booth. Yeah!, but I'm getting off track here.

Back to rooting for the home girl...I found the coolest candles from Skinny Girl Desserts. Cupcakes, tarts, quick breads...all in candle form (hence the skinny part)... I bought the berry blast (pictured above).

Of course, I'll never get to burn it unless Jeff is out of town (he's not a fan of scented candles, and this one is SO scented...might not ever have to buy air freshener again). Still, I thought the idea was so cute and clever. When I got home, I realized I didn't pick up her business card, or any other information about her. I can't find anything about her on Google either.

I guess I'll have to go back to the market this weekend. And, it's a great weekend to go the market because they're going to make a big announcement as part of their 4th anniversary celebration. Think it has something to do with their new indoor market space. Go to the market this Saturday, and if you can't make it, check back here. I'll post about it.

Cute Overload....

2009-02-24T08:26:00.006-07:00

What can you do with the darling little clementines known as Cuties? They're so easy to peel that eating them out of hand is the simplest way to go.

They're loaded with Vitamin C, potassium, folate and other B vitamins (and I just read a story this morning that scientists believe B vitamins can help vision in older women...I can use all the help I can get in that department.)

I've not seen the little Cuties for sale in anything smaller than a three pound bag, and most times it's five or six pounds. That's a heck of a lot of little orange orbs, especially for a household of two. The season is November through April, so now is the time to pick up a bag and add a little sunshine to your diet.

You can peel them and break them into sections to garnish green salads, cold rice salads or even a salad of just clementines and shaved fennel...maybe a few slivers of red onion, too, and dress it with a splash of extra virgin olive oil and a delicate vinegar, like rice wine vinegar.

Or, you can peel them, slice them crosswise into 1/4 inch rounds and steep them in a spiced sugar syrup, and then use them as a topping for whole grain pancakes, or serve them along side a nice scone. Here's an easy recipe for spiced clementines. Make this the day before you plan to serve them.

Spiced Clementines

1/2 cup sweet white wine (like Gewurztraminer) or apple juice
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup sugar
1 cinnamon stick, broken in half
1 star anise pod
1/4 teaspoon whole cloves
8 clementines, peeled and cut crosswise into 1/4-inch rounds

Bring the wine (or juice), water, sugar and spices to a boil in a small saucepan over high heat. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook, stirring once or twice for about 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Place clementine rounds in a flat, shallow baking pan, overlapping if necessary. Pour hot syrup and spices over the rounds, making sure each round is moistened with syrup. Cool to room temperature, turn the rounds over, and then cover the dish and refrigerate overnight.

How'd You Get that Job?

2009-02-22T14:45:00.005-07:00

My mouth is wide open, I'm flat on my back and two pairs of hands are inside my mouth. One of those hands is holding a drill. "So," my dentist asks nonchalantly, "How'd you get that job?"

He's referring to the food critic part of my multi-pronged culinary career. Unlike him, I need multiple streams of income to add up to a viable career.

Food writing doesn't pay much. Neither does cookbook authoring, most chef positions and pretty much any singular focused culinary skill. But add them all up, and I can cobble together a decent paycheck. And generally a full tummy.

After my mouth is safe from prying hands, drills and syringes filled with lidocaine, I answer his question: The same way you got your job -- I went to school, studied hard, got a degree, and started applying my craft. Duh!

OK, I didn't say it that directly (I do have to go back to see him, after all) but it struck me as funny that my highly skilled dentist (and he is a specialist, not a general practitioner) was asking me how I scored the enviable job of eating for a living.

Truth is, it's a legitimate question. Most people want to know how the heck you get a food critic position. And the reality is that in these times, anyone can become a food critic. There are TONS of blogs written by people who say they are food critics. (Although, I'm not sure about the guy who wrote "I ate here once and never will return.")

Professional critics don't have the luxury of passing up the second and third visits, no matter how terrible the first visit was. But there is room for all of us -- the professional, the lay person, the kid (did you see the NY Times article about the 12-year old critic?)

Seriously.... we're not talking brain surgery, rocket science, or solving world peace. We're talking about food. If you want to write about food (and get paid for it), start by writing. A blog. An article that you submit to your local publications with a letter of introduction. Just start writing. Oh, and eating. Actually, it's eating, then writing.

Appetite Stimulus Menu by Sushi Roku...

2009-02-20T11:27:00.006-07:00

Now that's a creative way to entice diners, don't you think? Cleverness aside, the Sunday through Thursday dinner only special menu is a smoking deal at one of the hippest restaurants in Scottsdale.

It's a three course menu for only 30 bucks (excluding tax/tip/drinks, of course.)

Choose either a land or sea starter, a sushi entree and finish up with green tea mochi ice cream with fresh fruit.

Let's see, would I like the tuna tataki with ponzu, daikon wraped salmon, Kampachi with diced jalapenos or the Kobe tataki, chicken tandori skewer or miso marinated eggplant better? Tough choice. Take friends and get one of each. Sweet!

Details: Susi Roku (at the W Hotel) 7277 E. Camelback Road., Scottsdale, 480-970-2121 (www.sushiroku.com)

Too much comfort...

2009-02-18T08:54:00.004-07:00

Enough with the comfort food, already, don't you think? Have you noticed that every single magazine related to food or lifestyle is peppering us with comfort food? "You need comfort food in this economy" they say.

Yet, if you keep your old magazines from years past, you'll see that January through March, comfort food dishes dominate. Why? Because it's winter in most parts, and winter calls for pots of chili, thick stews and hearty casseroles. This year, it's easy to add the economy as the reason we need comfort foods. It's not enough that it's chilly outside and we typically make these kinds of dishes in the winter anyway.

Don't get me wrong... I love comfort food. Adore it, actually. But tying it to the tanking economy is going to ruin it for me. When we pull out of this (and we will) I don't want to have a bad taste in my mouth about some outrageously delicious comfort food that reminds me of when the stock market was in a flat line, one gasp away from death.

I want to give specific kudos to Food & Wine Magazine, though. At least their covers (February and March 2009) seemed to be focused on healthy (and our nation is healthy, if a bit under the weather) comfort food.

The root vegetable gratin gracing their March cover adds an interesting, albeit sneaky, twist. Layers of sweet potato and butternut squash hide another layer of rutabaga (a step-child vegetable that's good for you but never gets star treatment), all topped with a crunchy, olive oil-kissed bread crumb topping.

It looks worth the 30 minutes of prep time and 90 minutes of bake time. And I bet you could use leftovers, mashed, as you would pumpkin puree: in quick breads, pancakes, etc. Just guessing.

That's not to say that the homemade rolls on the Gourmet cover aren't enticing (yes, Gourmet wants you to work for your comfort -- no easy outs for Gourmet cooks). And the lamb and eggplant shepherd's pie on bon appetit's cover looks so scrumptious I can feel my hips widening just looking at the picture.

I guess a tanking economy is reason enough to hunker down at home, and since it is chilly outside, a warm bowl of soup or a homey casserole seems to be just what the doctor ordered. Feed the soul at the same time as the tummy. But let's do it for the reasons we've always done it... baby, it's cold outside.

Go Green with Spirit....

2009-02-10T15:43:00.006-07:00

We may never surpass the Russians in vodka consumption but apparently we're giving it our best shot, based on the expanded shelf space dedicated to the popular white spirit and the sheer number of new vodka-based drinks.

Now there's an American "green" choice, giving double meaning to the "drink responsibly" mantra.

Distilled in Missouri, the 360 Vodka folks are serious about their "eco-luxury" vodka, billing it as the "world's first eco-friendly vodka." And they're not just giving lip service to the green movement.

The company says they've been recycling since 2003. Last year, their employees recycled 210 tons of material and they moved to a four day, 10-hour work week. (I bet the employees love having an extra day to play and drink...and recover.)

360 Vodka is also putting its money where its mouth is, giving back through their "close the loop" program. Cleverly, the company is asking buyers to return the removable bottle closure and in return, they are donating $1.00 to domestic "recognized environmental causes." They're even paying the postage. For more details, go to www.vodka360.com. You must be of legal drinking age to surf their site.

Fire Roasted Tomatoes

2009-02-09T17:12:00.004-07:00

Grilling tomatoes for salsa brings a whole other flavor layer to the mix, a deeper, richer flavor. Unless you grill the tomatoes over a wood grill, you won't get a big smoky flavor, but the charred skins will add depth.

Grill the chiles, too (jalapeno, serrano or other green chiles, like New Mexican green or poblano) and you'll notice you get a bit more heat out of them than fresh chiles.

You can use fire roasted tomatoes for other things besides salsa. You can make a fire roasted pasta sauce, for example, replacing canned or fresh tomatoes in your favorite recipe with grilled tomatoes. Or you can grill some red onion while your at it, and then chop up the charred onion and tomatoes for a garnish for grilled chicken or fish.

Use either the round variety or the plum tomatoes (Roma). It doesn't really matter. Even though it's not tomato season, they're available year round, and grilling them is a good way to boost their flavor punch when they're not in season.

It's really simple to grill tomatoes. Just put them on a fairly hot grill and let them grill until they're charred to your personal preference. (I do core them before grilling, but you don't have to.) I like to grill them until they're black on one side (could take 5 to 8 minutes on the first side) and then flip them and grill on the opposite side. I don't let the entire surface skin get black like I do with my chiles, but then again, I'm usually grilling chiles to get rid of the skin, and for the tomatoes, I keep the blackened skin for it's flavor.

The Perfect Answer...

2009-02-06T14:34:00.005-07:00

Finally, I had the perfect answer to a question I get on a daily basis. See, as a restaurant critic, people want me to recommend "the perfect" restaurant for them. Problem is, restaurants are a lot like clothes. One size or one particular style usually doesn't fit all, and I rarely know enough about the stranger in front of me asking me to give him the perfect recommendation. It's a complicated question.

But today, I had an answer. My monthly pest control guy happen to ask me what it was that I did all day long, squirreled away in my office clicking away on the keyboard. I mentioned that I wrote about food, specifically restaurant reviews for PHOENIX Magazine. His eyes lit up and he said, and I quote: "So, for Valentine's Day, what would you recommend that would be special but wouldn't break the bank?"

I got that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on my face because this question rarely leads to a happy situation for me or the inquisitive one. So I said, well, where do you live? He told me Surprise. Which is east LA (kidding, but might as well be since it is so, so far west from the center of Phoenix).

And then it hit me. Amuse Bouche. It's in Surprise and it's a cozy, French-inspired gem, with charming owners and outrageously delectable food...that won't break the bank. I wrote about the young couple who own Amuse Bouche in a January story for PHOENIX Magazine called "Rising Star Chefs."

I was so impressed with their food (and I clearly kicked myself out of the opportunity to review them since I met them in person for the story) I wrote to my editor before I left their parking lot. And I sent a note to my former editor at The Arizona Republic because I thought that the valley seriously needed to know about this adorable, cracker-box of a restaurant hiding out in the west valley.

So, finally, the inquisitive one was happy, I was happy and I'm pretty sure the young chefs at Amuse Bouche will be happy when they snatch another soon-to-be loyal customer, who happens to live around the corner.

Soak it up...

2009-02-02T10:38:00.003-07:00

She sits in the window, chin raised, eyes closed, bathing in the warm afternoon sun. Dogs love catching a few rays, but their masters physically need sunshine. Our bodies, the skin in particular, convert ultraviolet rays from the sun into Vitamin D.

Some nutritionists argue that we can't get all the Vitamin D we need from food alone, and supplements aren't absorbed as much as we think they are (and there is such a thing as too much Vitamin D). Food sources for Vitamin D include fatty fishes (like salmon) and fish oils (cod liver oil, anyone?) and many foods are fortified with Vitamin D, like cereals and milk.

Why do we need Vitamin D? Because it is essential for calcium absorption, and we need calcium for strong bones, among other things. Now, I'm not an expert on nutrition, but if I need more Vitamin D in my diet, am I going to take a swig of cod liver oil, or am I going to take a walk in the sunshine? What do you think?

Raw Tuna...

2009-01-27T07:05:00.007-07:00

This is either too funny or too sad. I can't figure out which. An article in the paper this morning caught my eye. (Yes, I'm one of six people left in the nation that still reads the news the old-fashioned way -- with a print newspaper.)

The headline said "Tokyo fish market takes licking from silly tourists." Some crazy (and slightly inebriated, according to the article) British tourist was filmed licking the head of a tuna at the famed fish market. Those kooky Brits! As a result, the market was closed for a while to tourists. Hey people, this isn't a freak show -- it's an auction!

Last October, I visited the Honolulu Fish Market auction early one morning as part of a professional culinary tour. We arrived at the market just before 6 a.m. Any later and we would have missed it. The market is located at water's edge, and boats pull up every morning and unload their haul. Tunas, swordfish, skipjacks, dolphinfish (mahi-mahi) and moonfish make up the bulk of the offerings.

It's all very serious business in the bustling, freezing warehouse. Fresh caught fish are sold to the highest bidders. The buyers are chefs and restaurant owners, vying for the best of the catch. Fish are stacked on movable carts and men with rubber boots with pen and paper in hand move up and down the aisles hunched over the fish while an auctioneer sputters bids with rapid succession. As soon as the fish is sold, a tag is slapped on the fish and they move on to the next one. It takes less than a minute to sell a fish -- sometimes less than 30 seconds.

Entrance into this chilly Poseidon tomb is a privilege, and I'm happy to report that our group of chefs, food writers and cookbook authors behaved with the utmost respect for the fishermen, the auction staff and the marine biologist who led our tour. Besides, really, would you want to kiss this?

Will the real guac please stand up?

2009-01-25T09:15:00.005-07:00

Super Bowl brings out snack fiends. Just look at the food coupons in Sunday papers to see what I mean. Every coupon is for some type of snack, dip or chip. Pam Anderson has an article in this week's USA Weekend magazine about "super-yummy" Super Bowl snack food, and to be completely honest, none of it looks yummy. Healthy? Perhaps, but definitely not yummy.

What took my breath away (not in a good way, more like a stab to the chest) was her recipe for "a lighter" guacamole. Now, I admit I'm a guac-freak. I'm very picky about guacamole. You can't put tomatoes in guacamole. You have to use ripe, but not mushy Haas avocados. Lots of garlic. Lots of lime. A healthy portion of chopped jalapeno or serrano for more heat. Touch of cilantro and a smidgen of finely chopped red onion. Some salt and pepper. That's it.

Anderson's "healthy" guacamole has...gulp...1-1/2 cups of frozen green peas! Yuk! Phutzhtz! That's not guacamole! That's pea puree. Oh, she calls for 6 small Haas avocados, but half the bulk of her guac will be peas. Thank goodness she didn't also call for tomatoes.

The thing is, avocados are high in calories and fat. But it's mostly the good kind of fat (unsaturated) and avocados are bursting at the seams with fiber, minerals and vitamins. Sure, if you eat too much of it you will get fat. You will also get fat eating too much of anything other than lettuce. But if you eat moderate amounts, and you are not a couch potato, real guacamole can fit into a healthy diet.

I'm stepping off my soap box, but before I do, here is my recipe for real guacamole. Be sure to share.

(istockphoto.com/copyright by Cathleen Clapper)

Gwen's Guacamole

First, you should know that I don't really follow a set recipe. I just start with the basic ingredients and then I taste and adjust as I go along. I did write these proportions down the last time I made guac, so it's a guideline. But you should taste as you go along as well. You might like less lime or less garlic than I do. I only ask one thing. Please, please don't put tomatoes in my guacamole recipe. Tomatoes have so much water in them, they dilute the flavor of the avocado. If you must, you can garnish the top with some chopped tomatoes. Just don't tell me about it.

Serves 6

3 large ripe (but not squishy) Haas avocados
2 tablespoons finely chopped red onion
2-3 medium cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeno (or serrano) minced (remove seeds if you are a weenie)
2 tablespoons roughly chopped cilantro (tender stems OK)
Juice of 1 lime (have another one handy in case you really like lime)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (less if using regular table salt)
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1. Cut the avocados in half lengthwise and remove the seed. Use a spoon to scoop out the flesh into a large bowl.

2. Add the rest of the ingredients and mix gently, careful not to turn the mixture into mush. You want some chunks of avocado. Use two knives or two forks to toss and slice. I use my hands but it's easy to over mix using your hands.

3. Taste and add more lime juice or salt and pepper, or more of any of the ingredients. Taste with your serving chip, as it likely has salt on it and you may not need any more salt.

4. Let rest for 30 minutes for the flavors to marry.

5. To store, spread guacamole surface smooth and flat. Place a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface making sure the whole surface is in contact with the plastic (this keeps it from turning brown, unlike sticking the seed in the mix...that's an urban myth. Air is what makes guacamole turn brown.) Cover the bowl again with a lid or more plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator. Keeps for up to 3 days this way, although you may have to scrape a little bit of oxygenated, brown guac from the edges.

Making Beer out of Lemons....

2009-01-24T10:34:00.006-07:00

Not everyone is letting the economy get them down. In fact, when we ran across this sign in Austin, Texas recently, we thought, "huh, isn't that clever?" Little Woodrow's is known for offering 100 beers, 30 of them on tap.

I never drank beer until college, and even then, I never took a liking to it. Kegs of Bud Light and Coors just don't have much flavor to me. During my beverage classes in culinary school, we took a field trip to a local microbrewery. The Brew Master took us on a tour and then we gathered in a private dining room to sample all of his craft beers.

He described the aroma and flavor notes just like winemakers describe their wines. We picked up on hints of caramel, chocolate, smoke and blackberries. It was a revelation to me that beer could actually have flavor.

Since then, I've studied beer making in more detail. I wrote a story about Arizona's only female brewer, Melissa Osborne, from Four Peaks Brewery. I spent the day with her, watching with fascination, the process of turning grain into brew. It's not a glamorous job. It's heavy lifting mixed with a bit of chemistry and a touch of art.

These days, I'm just as smitten with discovering a local brew as I am discovering a new, boutique wine. Really what I'm saying is that I'm doing my part to help the economy by sampling local beer wherever I happen to be. You should try it, too. Let's all do our part to get this economy moving again, even if it means downing a few brewskies.

Fortunate Cookie...

2009-01-21T12:46:00.005-07:00

Fortune says I love words, and I should write a book....in bed. I'm kidding about the bed part. I learned from neighbors years ago, that fortunes from fortune cookies must be completed with the phrase "...in bed." Why? I don't know. Perhaps they are funnier that way.

I kept this fortune because for the first time ever, a fortune cookie had my number. Yes, I love words. And I've already written three books. Maybe I should write another one.

I read a story a while back that said the fortune cookie was an American invention -- not a Chinese one. That figures, doesn't it? Still, I don't think a trip to a Chinese restaurant (in America, of course) is complete without a fortune cookie. Most of the time, the cookie tastes like crunchy cardboard.

Only once did I taste a fortune cookie that made me want to eat the whole thing. It was at Prime Chinese, in Phoenix, off Central and Camelback Road. It was crunchy but in a delicate way. It tasted of almond and egg whites, not the typical pasty taste. Usually, I crack open a fortune cookie, read the inscription...adding the words "...in bed" just so that it's funnier, and then toss the broken cookie back on the table.

But getting this particular fortune in my cookie the other night has me thinking. How does one get a job writing fortunes? Now that sounds like a fun job, don't you think? Next Monday, January 26, is the Chinese New Year -- the year of the OX. Go out and celebrate, and grab a cookie on your way out. It might just have your number.

Pull up a chair...

2009-01-19T10:59:00.004-07:00

Other than browsing cooking stores and grocery stores, moseying around a bookstore is one of my favorite pastimes. I don't mind hanging out in the major chain bookstores (Borders or Barnes & Noble) but I prefer independent bookstores.

Knowing what I do about the publishing world, I have a keen sense of appreciation for what it takes to own and operate a bookstore. It's tough. Whenever I travel, in addition to seeking out the coolest restaurants, cooking stores and grocery stores, I look for the independent bookstore.

Near downtown Austin is a fabulous, funky independent bookstore called Bookpeople. It is one of the largest independent bookstores I've seen, almost twice as big as our Tempe, Arizona independent gem, Changing Hands.

What struck me as cool about Bookpeople was their merchandising. Sale books are up front. Walking in the front door, you can't miss the mothership of an information desk, manned with helpful, smiling employees. Yes! Smiling! Imagine that!

The two-story store is obviously about books, but they also carry a wide variety of gifts -- bags, pens, stationary, cooking utensils -- in the cookbook section, of course. I was amazed at the variety and depth of non-book products. The magazine section was also one of the largest I've ever seen.

Returning from the bathroom, I found this antique barber chair tucked in a corner. It was occupied most of the time we were browsing the store, but just before we left, I dashed back upstairs and it was empty so I snapped a picture. Clever. Unique. Just like the rest of the store.

Mark Your Calendar!

2009-01-17T16:49:00.004-07:00

April 14-19. Put it on your calendar. The 31st Scottsdale Culinary Festival is shaping up to be a week of culinary fun. The festival kicks off with a Friends of James Beard Benefit Dinner at the Westin Kierland, featuring local and national chefs. The new W Scottsdale hotel will host Bubbles and Bliss, with bubbly and bites from Sushi Roku. The Great Arizona Picnic is back for the weekend, and the event wraps up with Best of the Fest, a five-course wine-paired dinner at the Hyatt Regency Scottsdale Resort and Spa. There are 12 events in all, and if you purchase tickets before March 6, you'll save money. Visit scottsdaleculinaryfestival.org for more information.

Photo provided by margomedia.com

It's Gold!

2009-01-09T09:04:00.003-07:00

Salt used to be good as gold. Or at least it was traded as currency in ancient civilizations. Now it's cheap and plentiful. We couldn't survive without salt in our diet. Like most things that are good for us, too much can be deadly...even sodium.

Recently, I picked up a spice mix at a swanky Texas market, a mix from a company based out of Boulder, Colorado. Now, I know most commercial spice mixes contain salt, and most are too salty, which is why I normally create my own blends. But this one was called orange pepper and salt was the third ingredient (U.S. food labeling laws require companies to list ingredients in order, by weight, beginning with the heaviest weight.)

Many prepared spice ingredient lists begin with salt. But I thought this one might not be too salty since salt was third. I was wrong. Now, if I had just sprinkled a whisper of this salty, orange pepper combination on my chicken breasts, I might not have noticed so much.

But I like to coat my protein in spice mixes for a full-on flavor blast, and I loved the idea of a peppery orange crust on my seared chicken. The dang thing was so salty, I'm sure it raised my blood pressure on the spot. I still like the idea of the orange pepper combination, so I've created my own blend (that does have a touch of salt, but not enough empty the coffers at Morton's.)

Gwen's Peppery Orange Spice Blend
Makes 1/4 cup

2 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper (coarse grind)
1 tablespoon freshly ground white pepper (coarse grind)
1 tablespoon dried orange peel
1 teaspoon dried lemon peel
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

Stir all ingredients together and store in an airtight container. Recipe easily doubles. Use on chicken, turkey, or even fish.

Check Please!

2009-01-07T11:53:00.003-07:00

Did you know that there are 27 steps to fine dining? I didn't either, until I went to culinary school. One of my classes was restaurant management, and as part of the class, we waited tables in the school's fine dining restaurant, while our sister class played chefs in the kitchen.

Now, 27 steps might seem excessive...you think? It is. But interestingly, we were told that the most important step (I think it was step 23) was picking up payment for the check. That makes total sense. If you're running a restaurant, the most important step is getting the money, right?

It's important to the customer, too, because once they throw money down, they want to wrap up the meal and be on their way. Or even if they want to linger a bit, getting the check out of the way is good for the guest and the server. It doesn't let the server off the hook in terms of making sure your needs are still met -- more water or coffee or tea?

Even casual restaurants need a certain amount of dining steps. Twenty-seven is overkill in my opinion, even at a fine dining restaurant, but taking care of the check is important no matter what kind of restaurant it is.

Smart Vegetable...

2009-01-06T09:14:00.004-07:00

"Cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education." Mark Twain

I rank cauliflower only slightly ahead of brussels sprouts, which is probably the cruelest joke of a vegetable ever. I know people who love, no...adore brussels sprouts. My sister-in-law is one, and she keeps trying to convert me with different BS dishes -- some with garlic, some with lemon, some with bacon. I say "BS" to them all.

Cauliflower is only marginally less offensive. Yes, I've had it steamed, raw, and pureed to replace mashed potatoes (a cardinal sin, by the way...there is NO substitute for perfectly mashed potatoes.) The only way I hadn't tried cauliflower was roasted. And, eureka! I found the key to getting cauliflower on my plate in an edible form.

Shopping at the farmers' market this weekend, I was struck by the beauty of the bin of cauliflower heads (I never said I didn't like the way they look, I just never liked the way they taste.) I picked up a perfectly formed head of cauliflower, creamy white with tight florets, and soft green leaves curling seductively over the edges of the head. I couldn't resist.

Since I picked up some gorgeous red beets at the same time, I thought perhaps I should try roasting the cauliflower while I was at it. The beets, wrapped in foil, take about an hour to roast at 400 degrees, so just 30 minutes before they were done, I got to work on slicing the cauliflower.

First I cut the florets from the core. Then I sliced each floret just thicker than 1/4-inch. They looked like mushroom slices when I was finished. I put them in a deep bowl and drizzled a dipping oil over them -- a combination of olive oil and balsamic vinegar that I also picked up at the market. I drizzled probably 3 tablespoons of the dipping oil all over the head of sliced florets. A sprinkle of salt and a few grinds of fresh pepper, combined with a few good tosses to distribute the flavorings, and it was ready to go into the oven.

My timer read 15 minutes and I scooted the foil wrapped beets to one side of the sheet pan and spread my cauliflower over the rest of the pan. After ten minutes, I gave the cauliflower a good stir, noticing that the bottoms had started to caramelize nicely. Another 5 minutes and the cauliflower was tender, and spotted brown in places from contact with the sheet pan.

Fork ready, I took a bite. Oooh. Sweet, tender, and just a whisper of tang from the vinegar. Ah. I think I like educated cabbage after all.

istock photo/Gary Martin

Pet Peeve # 2

2009-01-04T15:16:00.004-07:00

He saunters over to our table like he owns the place, but he's just our server. "Cheers," he says (about 30 times before the evening is over.) He tells us his name, something trendy like "Dillon," (I changed his name because I'm really not picking on him, too much) and ceremoniously announces he'll be taking care of us (what a relief!) -- in his own sweet time as it turns out.

The service wasn't really bad, per se, just lax. Of course, we were in a Texas ice house and the vibe is cathartically laid back to begin with. It seems as if everyone is moving in slow motion, even the guests. Maybe that's just Texas time and I've been out of my home state too long to recall the dawdling pace.

Most folks fall into one of two camps regarding the friendliness of servers. I've got nothing against friendly, or casual service for that matter, but I tend to not like my server sitting down at the table with us to take our order, or even sitting on a chair at a nearby table. Or leaning their butt on a nearby chair as Dillon was prone to do, which technically isn't sitting down, but still conveys the same assumed familiarity. It just sends a message that the server doesn't really want to be a server.

Hard to fault anyone for that -- I know I never liked waiting tables. But I never sat down with my customers because it just isn't professional. I don't care how casual the joint is. So what's the point of this post? Nothing really, just an observation about a(nother) restaurant pet peeve I have, ranked right after #1 -- waiters swiping plates before I'm finished eating.

No sweeter three words...

2008-12-24T09:06:00.004-07:00

Deep. Fried. Chicken. There are no sweeter words than these when used together. (I. Love. You. is a close second, though.) Fried chicken is my all-time favorite comfort food. Not favorite food, mind you, that would be a hamburger -- Dad's hamburger to be more specific.

Growing up, fried chicken was a weekly staple. I can't say that Mom's fried chicken is the best I've ever had, but it certainly formed the basis of my comfort craving. Mom's chicken never had the skin left on, and the skillet-fried chicken's crust wasn't particularly crunchy the way the best fried chicken's crust is. I'm quite certain that's because there was no skin, and only one layer of coating.

I've had two ethereal experiences with fried chicken that have left indelible marks on my psyche. Twice, I've eaten fried chicken where I swear I heard angels sing. The first was in the town of Crested Butte in Colorado. The restaurant (pictured) is called The Slogar, an old restaurant with even older cast-iron skillets. Their chicken isn't deep fried, per se, but it is fried in oil deep enough to almost qualify as deep frying.

The second experience happened just last Sunday at a new restaurant in Phoenix, NOCA. Sunday Simple Sundays at NOCA feature three-course prix fixe menus, with a rotating menu. Last Sunday happened to be fried chicken night. Deep. Fried. Chicken. And I heard the angels sing. Glory, hallelujah! It's simultaneously fortunate and unfortunate that NOCA's fried chicken isn't available on the regular menu every day -- fortunate because I can't afford the calories on a weekly basis, unfortunate because I want that fried chicken every week.

I never make fried chicken at home for two reasons: the aforementioned macabre caloric count and the mess. Making fried chicken is a slovenly bothersome proposition. Inevitably, flour gets all over the kitchen, copious amounts of oil splatters everywhere, and then what to do will all that left over oil? Convert it to biodiesel? I don't have a Mercedes Benz anyway. No, it's much better to eat fried chicken in someone else's kitchen, especially if that kitchen happens to be in an old Victorian house in the middle of the Rockies, or in the tres chic, new restaurant on Camelback Road.

Pear Fetish...

2008-12-20T10:08:00.004-07:00

Perhaps I do have a fetish with pears...this is the second pear post I've written this year. (See French Butter Pears from September).

I really think my infliction is not a pear fetish, but a "new ingredient" fetish. As I'm strolling (or whizzing if I'm in a hurry) through the grocery aisles, my built-in food curiosity radar goes off whenever I'm within a foot or two of some new thing.

Ripping through Trader Joe's last week, gathering supplies for a cooking class, I spotted a four-pack of pale yellow orbs. They sorta looked like Asian pears I've seen hundreds of times, but these were smaller. And the color was definitely different. Asian pears have more tannish, luminescent skin.

The label said "Japanese 'Twentieth Century' Pears, grown in Oregon" (pictured on the right; the pear on the left is my all-time favorite comice pear, also known as the Christmas pear -- the sweetest, juciest pear known to man, or at least to me if not all of mankind.)

Of course I bought the JTC pears, took them home, and cut into one. Actually, I didn't, but my husband did. He said it wasn't particularly sweet, so I left them on the counter a few days, thinking they just needed to ripen a bit. After a few days, they were marginally softer than when I brought them home, but still very firm. Nonetheless, I decided to try one. I cut it up and tasted a chunk. It was barely sweet, and extremely crunchy -- kind of like jicama, that Mexican white root vegetable, that's crunchy from all the fiber it contains, and a bit juicy from all the water it contains, but not very flavorful.

I don't judge restaurants after just one visit, but I've noticed that I do judge pretty much everything else after one experience, and my first experience with JTC has satisfied my curiosity about the mysterious new pear, but I can't say that it has convinced me it's worthy of peardom.

Fashion Statement?

2008-12-19T10:42:00.003-07:00

Whoever took this picture needs to take a class on self-portraits. I'm only sharing this awful picture of me because it relates to the coolest and most effective kitchen toy I've found in years... and I did find this a couple years ago, but now Onion Goggles are all the rage.

I snapped this picture for my younger brother. We were separated by a 1,000 miles, each in our own respective kitchen, making cornbread dressing for the holidays. It takes A LOT of chopped onions to make our Mom's dressing, and I had just purchased this snazzy eye ware. He didn't believe me so I emailed him a picture.

He, of course, just threw his onions in the food processor to avoid shedding tears, but I like to use my knife and can't stand all the onion-eye crying -- so I was giddy with joy to have my new glasses and show them off. You can get a pair, too, at most kitchen stores. I just saw an ad for them on Chef Tools website (www.cheftools.com)...and now they even come in pink or white in addition to green.

I took them to the cooking classes I taught last week, and everyone exclaimed outrageous envy over my 2008 fashion statement of the year --after they stopped laughing, which produced a few tears, but not from me. My eyes were dry, thanks to the too-cool onion goggles.

Eggs-cellent Dish...

2008-12-17T12:22:00.005-07:00

Perhaps you are wondering why I'm not showing an image of the meal I'm about to describe?

Here's why: a.) the said meal was made when the lighting wasn't good, and b.) said meal did not make a pretty picture regardless of the lighting... and therefore would not do justice to the wonderfulness of it all.

So, instead, here's a picture of the eggs I used to make said eggs-cellent meal. For those of you that won't cook without a recipe, please try, or at least enjoy this prose because the actual recipe posted below is just an approximation... not a bonafide, tested recipe suitable for publication, say, in a cookbook or magazine.

It's a guide...a mere suggestion for you as you whip up your own, late-night, eggcentric delish dish.

A little background: I had extra eggs and multi-grain bread (already cubed and dried for a savory bread pudding that, turns out, I didn't need) on hand ...Since I didn't need the extra dried bread cubes, I bagged them and put them in the fridge thinking, surely I'd come up for a better use for them than File 13. Turns out, I did, and here is the not-so-accurate recipe for a lovely egg dish, quasi-reminiscent of a Mexican chilaquiles, that I adore.

Make your own substitutions as you see fit...

Gwen's Eggs-cellent Adventure

Makes enough for 1 hungry girl

1 tablespoon butter (or olive oil if you prefer)
1/2 to 1 cup cubed, toasted bread (multi-grain or other...your call)
2 large eggs
1/4 cup (or a little less) jarred salsa (your favorite) or other condiment of your choice)
1/4 cup grated (or shredded) cheddar cheese (or other cheese of your choice)

Heat the butter or oil in a small skillet (8-inch works, so does 9-inch--if you make this in a 10-inch, I'd double the recipe, just my professional opinion) over medium to medium-high heat.

When hot, toss in bread cubes and leave alone! At least until they brown on one side -- about a full minute and a half, depending upon how high you turned up the heat -- and then toss to brown on other sides.

When cubes are brown enough for you (and the more brown the better as far as I am concerned, so live on the edge a little and brown those babies!) ... crack in the 2 eggs but don't stir for at least 30 seconds. (Yes, I said crack the eggs right into the pan and don't stir... seriously...)

Then, (as the edges of the eggs start to turn white, as egg whites will do, even though the yolks sit high and mighty and completely, sun-yellow!) gently start to stir for a couple seconds... you'll get the hang of it... stir again in 30 to 45 seconds, and as the eggs start to actually get done (think moist scrambled eggs), pour in your salsa or condiment of choice.... and just cook long enough to warm up the salsa or condiment...about 30-45 seconds more. Turn off the heat but leave in pan.

While the eggs are still in the pan, top with cheese... let it sit a couple minutes while you find your plate, fork and napkin... and then slide it all onto your plate. Eat slowly so you won't be tempted to jump up and make one more batch.

Cardamom Pods...

2008-12-15T11:36:00.004-07:00

"Do you have any cardamom? Not ground but the whole pods," my friend asks as we're walking our dogs. I run through a mental picture of my spice cabinet, and land on the little bottle of green cardamom I bought a while back at Penzeys Spice Company.

"Yes, I do," I say, "but they're green, not black." She looks at me with a blank stare. My friend is not a prolific cook or baker, and she is constantly amazed at my tools, gadgets, and well-stocked pantry. "What's the difference, she says?"

And I couldn't answer her question, so I went hunting for the answer. Found it in the Field Guide to Herbs & Spices by Aliza Green. (Disclosure: I've met Aliza, and she's quite well known in the professional culinary circle as the field guide queen. She's also written guides on meat, seafood, and produce.)

Turns out that both green and black cardamom are used extensively in Indian cooking (think chai tea flavor as an example). Cardamom is also used in African, Middle Eastern and to a lesser degree, Chinese and Scandinavian cooking.

The green is more delicate in aroma and flavor than the black pods and black cardamom has a unique, smoky aroma and flavor as well. Green cardamom is also about three times as expensive as black cardamom, which would explain why I have green instead of black in my pantry. I tend to buy expensive things when it comes to the kitchen, thinking that it's better. Sometimes I'm right, other times not so much.

About an hour after our dog walk, I'm rummaging around in my pantry looking for the green cardamom pods when the phone rings. It's my friend and she tells me that she just returned from the grocery store and found black cardamom pods...on sale...half price, even. Instead of $14, she spent $7. If you knew how frugal my friend was, you'd laugh. She would NEVER spend that much money on a jar of spice. But she is determined to make these "Swedish Toasts" (Skorpa) that she describes as similar to biscotti, but thinner.

Now that she has her own cardamom, I'm not sure I'll get a sample of her Swedish treat, but I'm hoping that just the effort of looking for it, and reassuring her that using the black pods instead of the green pods won't cause any kitchen disasters, will be enough to encourage her to share. It is the sharing season, after all.

Pumpkin Cranberry Dip...

2008-12-08T06:40:00.004-07:00

Going to a holiday party and looking for a dip to take? If you have a leftover can of pumpkin puree from Thanksgiving, here's a simple recipe worth opening the can for.

A 15 oz. can contains almost 1-3/4 cups of pumpkin, so you'll have about 1-1/4 cups of pumpkin left over. Most quick bread recipes call for 1 cup of pumpkin, so plan on making a bread, too.

Serve this barely sweet dip with toast points or crackers, or use it as a spread on turkey sandwiches.

Cranberry Pumpkin Walnut Spread

Makes 2 cups

8 oz. cream cheese
1 cup dried cranberries, plus a tablespoon for garnish
3/4 cup toasted walnut or pecan pieces
1/2 cup pumpkin puree
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
Pinch salt

Break the cream cheese up into chunks and drop into a food processor. Sprinkle with the cranberries and nuts. Spoon in the pumpkin puree and sprinkle with the spices and salt. Pulse until almost smooth, stopping to scrape the sides of the bowl down once. Transfer to a bowl and garnish with extra cranberries.

NOTE: You can make this 1 or 2 days in advance. Just cover and refrigerate. Let the dip sit at room temperature about 30 minutes before you plan to serve to soften just a bit.

A Tale of Two Cornbreads...

2008-12-06T19:21:00.004-07:00

Cornbread is nothing more than a quick bread. And in some parts of the South, it's just as sweet, which was a shock to me the first time I tasted my husband's cornbread after we first married (when he did all the cooking because I didn't know how.)

He opened a box of Jiffy and whipped up a pan of cornbread that is more accurately corn "cake." After almost 20 years of marriage, I still can't bring myself to call what I make for him cornbread. And in fact, the best cornbread he thinks I make still comes from a box.

The cornbread I grew up on didn't have a grain of sugar in it. It was mealy, a bit dry, and in my Mom's hands, the basis of the best cornbread dressing ever. She never measured a thing, yet every time her cornbread came out the same way it did the hundred times before.

I've tried taking Mom's basic cornbread recipe and adding sugar to it. It doesn't quite work. I've tried more eggs, less eggs. I can't seem to replicate the texture and taste of box cornbread when I make it from scratch.

So I've finally resolved that the box wins. And, you know what? It's a heck of of lot easier opening a box than making it from scratch.

After the fact...

2008-12-03T11:32:00.002-07:00

Who does a postmortem after Thanksgiving? Apparently, we do. There we were with notepad in hand, surveying the Thanksgiving buffet line. "Next year, we need half as many sweet potatoes," I said, looking at the less than half empty 9 X 13 dish of sweet potatoes, still covered with caramel brown marshmallows.

"And let's not forget to put the cranberry relish out BEFORE the meal, instead of after the meal," Steve snickered. Touche! We both looked at the mounds of food before us. We planned on 20 people, and cooked for 50. As people were gearing up to leave, my sister-in-law loaded up bags and bags of leftovers, and still had a mountain of food for her own refrigerator.

We gave thumbs up to the dry brining technique we read about in Bon Appetit Magazine, based on an article by Rick Rodgers, a phenomenal cooking teacher and author of dozens of cookbooks. This guy really knows his stuff. It's so easy and less messy than submerging your bird in a bucket of liquid salt brine. I even think it makes for less salty drippings, key if you use the drippings as the basis for gravy.

But then there was Mom's cornbread dressing. We're still not there yet, and what we wouldn't give to have her back to show us how to do it. We're close (although it was a little green from two bottles of sage) but we're just not there yet.

So we have written notes - a postmordem - from this year that will make next year even better. Now if we can just remember to review them.

Big Tom...

2008-11-25T13:30:00.002-07:00

Tom is taking up a fair amount of space in the fridge. He is the biggest turkey I've ever seen, and my brother informs me we are cooking him on Thursday. I wonder if we really should get started today. How long does it take to cook a 21-pound turkey?

I don't have years of experience cooking turkeys. Mom cooked all our turkeys up until four years ago, and our first Thanksgiving without her was painful in more ways than one. We dried out the turkey, we made glue instead of cornbread dressing, and we generally made a mess of the dinner.

Since turkey duties now fall to my younger brother and me, we've been experimenting. We held a competition one year. We each had a 12 pound turkey. I brined mine, Steve did not. I won. But Steve really won because my gravy was too salty to eat. His was perfect.

Last year, we roasted a beautiful bird to bronze bliss and decorated the platter with oranges and sage bundles. We roasted two extra breasts to eat, using the whole turkey as our centerpiece. We never had to carve the golden boy because we had plenty of turkey breast, plus a ham, and an untold number of side dishes for our 35 guests. Steve tells me he put the bird in the extra fridge and promplty forgot about it, eventually tossing it a few weeks later. Not a very happy ending for that Tom.

So here we are, looking at this monstrous fowl, and wondering what's to become of him. We're thinking we'll try the salting technique in the November issue of Bon Appetit. Mainly because we don't have a bucket big enough to do a full brine. We realize we're treading on thin ice because we don't have extra turkey waiting in the wings if we screw this up. And that is part of the fun. That, and being together on Thanksgiving, cooking, laughing, sharing. Creating a story for next year. Happy Thanksgiving.

Rosemary Scented Cranberry Sauce...

2008-11-22T11:37:00.004-07:00

Not that there's anything wrong with cranberry sauce in a can (it will grace our Thanksgiving table as it always has), but sometimes you want something a little more fancy. I normally make an orange infused cranberry sauce but this year, I'm taking inspiration from the garden.

This rosemary scented cranberry sauce is tart and lemony, too, from the addition of a little lemon zest. A splash of gin never hurt anyone either, and it picks up on the pine notes from the rosemary. Give it a try.

(istock photo - Liza McCorkle)

Rosemary Scented Cranberry Sauce

Makes 3 cups

1 (12-ounce) package of fresh or frozen cranberries
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup ruby Port wine (inexpensive is OK)
2 (4-inch) whole sprigs of fresh rosemary
Zest of 1 large lemon
1 tablespoon gin (optional)
1/3 cup dried cranberries or dried cherries
Pinch ground cloves
Pinch freshly ground nutmeg
Pinch salt

1. Stir cranberries, sugar, Port and rosemary springs in a heave saucepan and place over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil.

2. Reduce heat and simmer until thickened, about 10 minutes. Stir in lemon zest and gin. Simmer another 5 minutes or so and remove from heat.

3. Stir in cranberries, cloves, nutmeg and salt. Chill until ready to serve. Keeps 1 week, covered, in fridge.

Zagat Zingers....

2008-11-19T16:37:00.006-07:00

Everyone needs a laugh now and then -- especially in these grim, gloomy times. If you sign up, Zagat sends a weekly email out with restaurant openings and other news. If you scroll to the bottom of the email, they post a quote called "Outtake of the Week" gleaned, I'm sure from the Zagat surveys.

Some are downright hilarious, including the one I read this week: "Only the flies on our table enjoyed the meal." It helps to understand how Zagat guides are put together. Some people think the ratings are done by professional restaurant critics.

It's really foodies who rate the restaurants. Some are professionals but most are not -- they are just food lovers or what I think of as restaurant groupies. For each restaurant listed for rating, the person rating gives a number for food, decor and service, along with a cost of one dinner with one drink plus a tip.

There is also space for comments, and I'm guessing the tickling tidbits published as "Outtakes" come from those comments. Sometimes they are zingers -- like this one: "Take a look at the staff on the way in -- that's the last you'll see of them."

Here's a link to the "Outtakes" page of the Zagat website. Go to the home page if you want to sign up for the weekly newsletter yourself.

Salsa Bliss...

2008-11-18T15:50:00.006-07:00

It's no secret that Mexican food is my favorite cuisine. I like gourmet Mex, Tex-Mex, and everything in between. I even tend to judge a Mexican restaurant first on it's salsa offerings.

El Chubasco in Park City, Utah gets high marks for its salsa bar. Sitting smack dab in the middle of the dining room of this cheap eats (one of the very few inexpensive restaurants in Park City that isn't a chain) is a salsa bar, featuring more than 15 different salsas, all made from scratch.

Each salsa is labeled with chiles to indicate the heat level, with one chile for mild and four chiles for set-your-pants-on-fire hot. Most are in the three chile range, and those were spicy enough for this gringo.

I felt like a kid in a candy store on my first visit, sampling nine of the 15 or so salsas. On subsequent trips, I showed only slightly more restraint by taking just four or five. My favorite was the arbol, a smoky roasted tomato and chile de arbol (a skinny - usually dried - chile similar to cayenne) salsa, but I also loved the fresh, pico de gallo, studded with enough fresh, minced serranos to wake up any slacker taste bud.

Pico de gallo is really a simple salsa to make. It's best to make it in late summer, when tomatoes are at their peak, but I make it all year, substituting Roma tomatoes for regular ones. It's a great accompaniment to grilled or baked fish.

Pico de Gallo
Makes 2 cups

1/2 of a large, white onion, finely chopped
2 pounds tomatoes, seeded and finely chopped
2-3 jalapenos or serranos, minced (remove seeds for less heat)
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
Juice of 1/2 or 1 lime (to your tastes)
Salt and pepper

Toss all ingredients together and let rest 10 to 30 minutes before serving. Keeps 3 days, covered in the refrigerator.

Pumpkin Eater...

2008-11-14T08:56:00.006-07:00

Who knew that a raw pumpkin could be so appealing? I returned home from an evening meeting earlier this week, only to discover that my darling little grasshopper slayer decided that she needed a piece of pumpkin, sans pie.

Chloe was perched on top of "her" chair when we returned and when she saw me turn on the light, look at the desecrated pumpkin on the dining room table, she crouched and pinned her ears back. Skylar, on the other hand, leaned up against the bar and looked at me, saying with those adorable brown, button eyes, "It wasn't me, Mom, she did it."

Chloe has separation anxiety issues and every time we leave the house, she finds some mischief to amuse herself until we return, even though she's confined to the family/kitchen room. Animal experts would suggest that I put her little hinny in a crate while we're gone. I know I probably should, but then Skylar would be uncrated and what kind of trauma would that cause? Anyone have any advice?

Chloe was subdued the rest of the evening, probably with a tummy ache, but otherwise she was fine. The next day, I talked with my friend Eileen, who owns See Spot Shop, and after she stopped laughing, she told me that pumpkin is not harmful to dogs, and that Chloe likely just got an extra dose of antioxidants. It wasn't like I was going to make a pie with the darn pumpkin anyway... it's best to use the small, sugar pumpkins for pie.

I just put the pumpkin there to remind me that it was fall, and Thanksgiving is coming. Sometimes it's hard to remember that when the temperature is 80 degrees outside. And Chloe was quick to remind me that even fall has a short season.

Thanksgiving on 200 calories....

2008-11-10T11:16:00.007-07:00

Did I catch your attention? An article in last weekend's USA Weekend insert in my newspaper caught my attention with " A Lighter Thanksgiving: only 682 total calories."

This just after I sent a text message to my brother about a luscious sounding pasta, cauliflower and cheese gratin recipe I'd seen in Bon Appetit magazine, that I was certain should be on our "new dish" Thanksgiving list.

My text said something about replacing the pasta with more cauliflower and using less cream, cheese and butter for a "lighter" version. (I blogged about Steve earlier this year after he dropped 25 pounds just by eating turkey bacon ... and running 4 miles every day for months, but I digress).

He immediately texted back, and I quote, "Girlfriend, Thanksgiving is NOT about the calories." Now that's a reason to be thankful. We'll have a normal, traditional Thanksgiving -- no obsessing about the amount of food and fat. After all, what other national holiday do we have that is all about food, nothing but food?

I don't mean to sound snippy about Pam Anderson's Thanksgiving-Lite meal -- she's lost 45 pounds (and wrote a successful cookbook about it). Her article says that a typical Thanksgiving meal is more than 1,200 calories, so her lighter meal may be an inspiration to people who need to watch their intake on this and every other day (and don't we all). Seriously, I had just offered to "lighten" an new dish in honor of my brother's "lighter" self.

But for me (and clearly this trait runs in the family), Thanksgiving is the opposite of restraint and moderation. I can be moderate and mindful for 364 days. But on day 332 this year, I'm going to indulge. I might have seconds. I might have six desserts. I might regret it all on day 333 but on Thanksgiving, I'll eat like it was the last Thanksgiving -- or the first. I imagine that the first Thanksgiving was a cornucopia of foods and both sides did the polite thing, sampling a little bit of what everyone brought to the table.

At the end of the day, I may very well wish that I'd followed Anderson's Thanksgiving plan. But until then, I'll be planning, shopping, cooking and stuffing my way to satiated bliss.

A Bouquet of Tea?

2008-11-05T10:37:00.004-07:00

No doubt about it. Tea is a hot trend right now. Of course, since tea has been brewed for thousands of years, calling it a trend may seem silly. But take a look at the tea shelf in any grocery store these days, and you'll see what I mean.

There is a tea for virtually every situation. Need calmness? There's a tea for you. Want to detox? Yup, got that, too. Want a weird combination tea? Like green tea with chocolate and orange? Found it. Maybe you just want to pamper yourself? You're in luck. There's a gazillion options for that one.

I bought one of those "lifestyle" teas recently, sucked in by the pretty package and description. It's called dream spirit by a company called Herbescent and here's what it promises: "A fragrant mystical tea, made of floral botanicals to guide you into peaceful relaxation and surreal meditations."

Doesn't that just melt the tenseness away? There is only one problem. When you pop open the lid, it smells like potpourri. I mean, it smells lovely, but it smells like a bunch of dried flowers. I steeped the tea anyway, even though it was hard to get past the perennial scent.

The tea tastes exactly like it smells. It isn't tea. It's aromatherapy! The ingredient list includes lavender, rose petals, chamomile blossoms, hibiscus flowers and chrysanthemum petals. Now, I know chamomile and hibiscus are used quite often in tea. But I gotta tell you that in tandem with the rest of the flower garden, they don't make the best drinking tea.

Here's what I can say. Even though the dream spirit flavor isn't my cup of tea, this company does make a wide variety of other teas -- normal-ish ones, too -- so I'm going to give them another shot. Because I like their packaging. And I love tea. And most of all, because I'm certain that they can do better than this bouquet of tea.

I Could'va Had a Soup!

2008-11-04T08:36:00.007-07:00

Last weekend, there was a coupon in my Sunday paper for a new soup from Campbell's under their V8 brand. I drink V8 juice (finally switch to the low sodium version, which was painful, but I have a little trick...I douse it with a sprinkling of cayenne powder).

But I digress... this post is about the new V8 soups. I bought three -- southwestern corn, golden butternut squash and tomato herb. They also make a garden broccoli and sweet red pepper.

I completely adore the southwestern corn. The corn soup is thick, creamy and has a nice kick of heat. I topped it with some leftover popcorn and it really helped "pop" the corn flavor.

The tomato herb is also yummy. It, too, could use a little doctoring, and I found that a sprinkling of grated Parmesan really brought out the sweetness of the thick, red tomato base.

The butternut squash wasn't as good. It tasted strange to me, so I looked at the ingredient list, and figured out the problem. Potatoes are the third ingredient in the squash soup, so it waters down the taste of the squash. Too bad, because butternut squash soup can be absolutely divine. I have a recipe for butternut squash soup in my cookbook, The Great Ranch Cookbook, with apples and chipotle. It is divine, but takes a bit of work.

It's not nearly as easy as opening a carton of the V8 butternut squash soup, although figuring out how to open the V8 boxes is a bit of challenge. The boxes are small (16 oz.) and the nutritional content varies by soup, but 1 serving of the corn soup (8 oz) is 150 calories and 3 grams of fat, while the tomato soup is 90 calories and 0 fat grams for a cup.

The only downside is the amount of sodium, which also varies by soup (between 590 and 750 milligrams -- 25% to 31% of the recommended daily allowance.) But you can find lots of other soups, even some made by Campbell's, with as much as 890 mg and some as low as 60 mg (their low sodium cream of mushroom soup). The RDA is 2,400 mg. So the V8 soups are not outrageously laden with sodium.

I love soup, and soup season is upon us (some more than others...we're still in the 80's temperature range although nights and mornings are cooling off...finally). While I'd love to say that I have time to make a fresh batch of soup every week, I don't. So I'll keep a couple of these V8 soups in my pantry for those nights when nothing sounds better than a steaming bowl of soup.

Play that funky...wine?

2008-10-30T17:14:00.005-07:00

I'm standing in front of my favorite wine section (rose) at my favorite wine store, deciding if I want to stick with the tried and true -- and easy (screw caps), when a perky, young saleswoman asks if I need help.

I say I'm fine and continue studying the choices, which at this particular store are prolific compared to other stores. They must have at least 20 different rose wines. Only specialty stores really delve deep into the rose wines... even though everyone is writing about the virtues of a good rose. Go figure.

I guess I was lingering a bit too long, because before long, perky girl comes back and says "do you want to try a really funky, fabulous rose?" How can you say no to that pitch? Of course I want to try a really funky, fabulous rose. So she leads me to another aisle, featuring South African wines and picks up a bottle of Mulderbosch rose, 2007.

"And it's only 10 bucks!" she gushes, as she proceeds to tell me that she featured it at tasting the week before and everyone loved the wine, picking up on the whole South African terrior. OK, I bite. "What's the whole South African terrior," I say.

"It's kinda earthy, musty, you know, funky," she says, using her hands, arms and body in a back and forth swaying motion to drive home the point. Uh huh, I say. So I bought it. Now I'm sipping it and trying to pick up on the earthy, musty, you know, funky thing.

I'm getting the funky part. It's tangy, almost sour, like grapefruit, with a very dry finish. After a sip or two my mouth wants to pucker. I don't taste the traditional strawberry or cherry notes common in many roses. It's not bad, but it doesn't quite stack up to my fav five I wrote about in a post a few months ago.

Still, it's lively and goes great with the goat cheese and olive tapenade snack I whipped up to eat along with it. "Funky" is an appropriate descriptor. And, it's only 10 bucks.

Mon Dieu!

2008-10-30T10:22:00.006-07:00

Never would I have expected to have such lovely French bistro food in the land of pineapples and papayas, but that's exactly what I found at Du Vin, in downtown Honolulu.

I almost missed the chance, too. When I travel, I like to eat local, what the locals eat, and most often, that's the regional cuisine of the area.

But what do local foodies do when they've had their fill of their own cuisine? They explore other global flavors. Our host foodies wanted to take us to Du Vin. I protested because I wanted to eat something more Hawaiian, not Parisian, for goodness sakes.

When we found ourselves downtown one evening, we strolled by the little French brasserie, a narrow, dark space on Bethel Street. Past the dark lounge, way in the back is an open courtyard, even more narrow than the main room, with tables snuggled closely together. There is no way you'd know you were in Hawaii sitting in this Provencal garden. French patio chairs and tables, potted plants, antique wall hangings, and a mosaic tiled floor more than mask the Pacific Island location --they transport you to the narrow streets of Nice.

The food tastes as French as the decor looks French. We slurp a roasted tomato basil soup and devour moules & frites (pictured) -- with the most plump, tender mussels swimming in a garlicky wine broth, and lots of crusty French bread, soaking up the flavorful broth. We have a piece of Hawaiian fish (amber jack tuna to be specific) that's seared to a golden brown and bathed in an olive butter sauce, and sitting atop haricots blancs (white beans) and frisee. And finish with banana and chocolate crepes (the bananas are local)... Mon dieu! It was exquisite. And I'm really glad that I didn't miss it, even if French cafes are not de rigueur in aloha land.

Trust me...

2008-10-29T13:48:00.004-07:00

Omasake means something like "trust the chef" or "put yourself in the chef's hands." Either way, you give permission to the sushi chef to whip up something special for you.

Recently, we dined at Nobu in Waikiki, Hawaii. Sitting at the gleaming sushi bar, I recognized only a handful of the slabs of fish chilling in the case, so we decide we would "trust the chef."

In return for $60, we were presented with a long narrow board of nigiri, about 10 different pieces of fish and seafood artfully drapped over an oval mound of sushi rice. We had the usual salmon, yellowtail and big eye tunas, and halibut.

We also tasted squid, octopus, scallops, shrimp, king crab and a fish called "kiss." That wasn't the name, but it's pronounced like kiss, and it tasted like a mackarel -- strong. The last one was an eel, I think. All of it was fresh, clean, and remarkable.

We were going to order one omasake each, but our sushi chef thought that one would be plenty for both of us, especially considering that we had already tasted a couple other dishes. He was right, but what amazed me is that he thought we should start with one and see if that was enough, instead of strapping us with two (and an additional $60). Our server didn't bat an eye when we ordered two. It was the chef that showed some restraint and guidance.

Perhaps omasake does mean "trust the chef."

Monkfish Liver Lover...

2008-10-23T14:12:00.008-07:00

I had heard that monkfish liver was the "foie gras of the sea." If you don't like foie gras, you can just stop reading now, because you'll have no appreciation for what I'm about to tell you.

We're in Hawaii, me for a culinary conference, him for his usual business. Carrie & Jay live here. She works with him and Jay is kind of like a client, I guess, but a cool one. Anyway, C & J are locals so they wanted to take us to someplace unique for dinner, somewhere not splattered all over the tourist map.

We end up at the most charming and hip izyaka (a Japanese drinking establishment with a heavy emphasis on food -- think Spanish tapas bar, without the Spain-part). It's called Sushi Izyaka Gaku and it is too darling for words.

The lighting is low, the chefs behind the sushi bar are dressed in traditional, bright yellow, black and red garb (they're Master Sushi Chefs, by the way) and contemporary jazz is playing in the background...or was until the evening waned and then downtempo techno lounge music kicked in as the crowd turned noticably younger.

But back to the food. C & J are adventurous sports, and so are we. So we put ourselves in the hands of our server. He looks like a kid from the Midwest, but he speaks fluent Japanese, so off and on throughout the night, he counsels us on a dish to see if it's to our liking, and then turns and shouts something inaudible in Japanese to the chefs (it's not a big place, he probably didn't have to shout but it seems everyone shouts in these izyakas.)

We start with lovely nori wrapped King crab and cucumbers. Delish. Next we have a small slab of meltingly tender butterfish, the thin strip of skin crisped over an open fire. Divine. Next is a hamachi collar -- also seared over an open flame. A collar is the jawbone of the fish, and is prized for the rich, dark meat tucked away in cartilage.

Next came the monkfish liver. Three salmon colored disks floating in a citrusy, ponzu sauce with microscopic slices of green scallion. The disk was chilled but three seconds in my mouth it started to melt into a creamy pool of fish liver.

That doesn't sound as good as it was. It's hard to describe, but if you love foie gras AND you love strong fishes (salmon, mackerel, etc.) then you would love monkfish liver. I'm not a monkfish lover...I don't like the texture of monkfish. But I am now a monkfish liver lover. Sublime.

These were just our appetizers, something for the Asahi and Shochu to wash down. I don't have enough space here to finish the meal description so I'll save that for another post. I just wanted to tell you about the monkfish liver, you know, in case you wanted to run out and get some.

Simmer Sauces...

2008-10-18T09:51:00.005-07:00

Simmer sauces are the equivalent of a lifeline. Need to get dinner on the table quick? Open a jar of simmer sauce and add a protein, some veggies and call it dinner. I keep frozen shrimp in the freezer because it thaws quickly and cooks even quicker. I do the same with frozen vegetables.

I've tried two simmer sauces recently that I would buy again. Trader Joe's Simmer Sauces come in several flavors, and the Korma Simmer Sauce is a kicky blend of tomatoes, a touch of cream, almond butter and spices, including cayenne and cinnamon.

The jar says the serving size is 1/3 a cup but that's too stingy. A half cup is doable, I can easily polish off half the jar myself. If I stuck to the 1/3 cup, it would only be 110 calories and 7 grams of fat, but with my more realistic portion, it's more like 160 calories and 10 grams of fat -- still reasonable when paired with a lean meat or fish and vegetables.

I also like Seeds of Change simmer sauces, specifically the Jalfrezi flavor. The label says it's medium-hot but I'm not sure who was determining that. It's not hot at all. It too is tomato based and contains onions, red bell peppers, a touch of coconut milk and spices like cumin, ginger, and cardamom. It's exotic tasting, and I paired it with shrimp, green beans and ladled it over fragrant, basmati rice.

I think next time I'm shopping, I grab a few more and keep them in the pantry for those nights I just don't feel like putting a lot of effort into dinner.

Getting it right...

2008-10-16T17:46:00.007-07:00

I couldn't get past the reservation screen unless I entered my "title." Not my professional title, but my status/gender title. I was booking a hotel room on-line and the page was insisting on knowing whether I preferred to be addressed as Ms., Mrs., or Mr. There wasn't an option for "none of your business" and there was no way to get past the screen without choosing one.

I'd just filled out tons of personal information -- my mailing address, my credit card number, my bed size preference (king, even if Jeff isn't traveling with me -- I need thrashing space). Was it because my name, Gwen, could be either male or female? Or do they also refuse passage to Elizabeth and John Paul?

I found it amusing. Will it help them when I arrive to check in? Surely they have more confidence in their front desk than that. Or maybe they don't want their staff to make an on-the-spot decision about whether I am female or male. Remember Pat from Saturday Night Live? Did we ever discern if Pat was a guy or girl?

These days, we can't assume jack (or is it jill?), especially when it comes to names -- of people, of politics, of dishes -- anything really. I just ran across a dish with a name that has nothing to do with the dish. And chefs, like celebrities, are taking liberties. Gwyneth named her daughter Apple. Chefs are calling things crudo (raw fish) that are not raw and/or not fish. Everything is fair game.

So really, it's no wonder that this hotel needs to know my gender and my preferred salutation. They want to make sure they get it right.

Regulate this....

2008-10-16T08:03:00.005-07:00

While the government is contemplating adding more regulations to the financial industry, maybe they should consider adding regulations to the labeling of chocolate. Couldn't they slip in a chocolate rule, kind of like they slip in earmarks to save the wooden arrow makers?

It's no wonder everyone is confused about semisweet and bittersweet chocolate. Or the new "dark" milk chocolates on the market. Real chocolate is composed of two main ingredients: the cocoa mass (called chocolate liquor) and cocoa butter. Both are by products of the cacao bean.

I saw an ad recently for Ghirardelli baking chips. It was the picture of the dark chocolate cookies studded with even more chocolate that caught my eye. Ghirardelli makes a semisweet chocolate chip that doesn't specify the percentage cacao, and a baking chip that is labeled 60%.

So I am curious about how much chocolate liquor is really in the semisweet chocolate. The Chocolate Manufacturer's Association says that semisweet generally contains 35% to 45% and bittersweet contains at least 50%. Milk chocolate can contain as much as 56% chocolate liquor. And, products labeled "dark chocolate" can contain as little as 15% chocolate liquor and up to 12% milk solids. Huh? If it has milk solids, isn't it milk chocolate? Apparently not.

Chicken @#$%

2008-10-13T18:55:00.005-07:00

I really shouldn't knock something until I've tried it, but I'm going to anyway. Hey, it's my blog and you don't have to read it. Maybe I'm just a little sensitized after spending days pouring through some new books on eating local, gardening and the slow food movement (of which I am a member) for an article I'm working on.

Cruising through the coupons in the paper this weekend, I stopped on a page with a couple new products from Tyson, the largest processor and marketer of chicken in the country...maybe the world.

The one that caught my eye (and made me spew coffee all over the paper) is something called "any'tizers." And within the "any'tizers" product line, is a product called "Homestyle Chicken Fries."

I'm not kidding. The box of chicken fries shows a picture of what looks like breaded French fries, but instead of potatoes, it's processed chicken meat. Seriously? One serving (seven "fries") is 230 calories, 11 grams of fat, and 25% of your daily sodium intake. But hey, it's 13 grams of protein, or 26% of the recommended daily allowance. That makes me feel better.

Now, if you own Tyson stock (TSN) then good for you. They recently beat their numbers and Jim Cramer of Mad Money is in love with Tyson right now. Making money is good. Probably better for you than eating chicken fries. So, you might want to think about buying the stock, but your health would be better off by picking up a roasted chicken (Tyson still wins either way).

Beam me up Scotty....

2008-10-08T10:09:00.004-07:00

You gotta love instant access these days. Or curse it. My husband is on the road, and he, as he's prone to do, sends me a text message about where he's eating. Today he's having BBQ in Austin, TX and it...I'm quoting...."ROCKS!"

Now, he knows I'm off to lunch today at a place that doesn't "rock." How fair is that? Actually, I'm happy that he is a) having a rocking lunch, and b) loves me enough to send me a text about it with the website link so I can fully appreciate the experience he's having.

I would much rather be in Texas at the moment with him, barbecue slathered on my chin, but at least I can visualize him eating my state food...(however, instead of brisket or ribs, he probably ordered something silly like chicken or turkey... he's healthy that way. Me? Not so much.)

For anyone in Texas at the moment, he's at Ironworks BBQ. He's the only one in the joint with a plate of chicken and side of salad.

Wine, Women & Chocolate

2008-10-07T07:30:00.004-07:00

Did you know that you can pair wine with chocolate? Sure, certain full bodied red wines and dark chocolate are great palate partners, but there are other combos that are just as harmonious. If you're in the Phoenix area on Sunday, October 19, you can learn how to pair different wines with complementary chocolates, and support a great cause at the same time.

The Phoenix Chapter of Les Dames d'Escoffier, (I'm a member) is holding a fundraiser to benefit the Phoenix Downtown Public Market. Wine, Women & Chocolate promises to be a fun but educational event and includes a comparative chocolate tasting lead by Donna Nordin, a renowned chocolate expert from Tucson and a wine and chocolate pairing featuring Chatham's Fine Chocolate truffles. But that's not all.

The event is also a launch party for the Les Dames d'Escoffier's brand new, national cookbook, Cooking with Les Dames d'Escoffier, which features recipes from some of the most famous women culinary leaders like Julia Child, Alice Waters, and Florence Fabricant. Two local women also have recipes in the book, including culinary maven Barbara Pool Fenzl, who will be autographing the the book at the event.

Tickets are $75 and include a copy of the cookbook. The event is Sunday, October 19 from 3 to 5:30 p.m., at Fairytale Brownies. To reserve a space, mail a check for $75 to LDEI at 15029 N. Thompson Peak Pkwy, Suite B-111 #466, Scottsdale, AZ 85260, or call Janis Normoyle at (602) 740-8767.

Too Many Choices...

2008-10-05T15:25:00.004-07:00

Seriously, how difficult can it be? I'm on the hunt for a new coffee machine. Our Krups coffee/esspresso machine is 16 years old, and has been telling us for a while now that she's tired. Three years ago, we stayed in a bed and breakfast in Creede, Colorado and fell in love with the Saeco machine the proprietress had.

I searched for one when we returned home, but was overwhelmed at all the choices, so I did what any rational person would do. I quit searching, and basically ignored the issue. About a year ago, our little Krups started acting up again, so I went on the hunt again.

Jeff's buddy Bob, a coffee connoisseur, told us about his favorite brand. Once again I was overwhelmed so, I pushed the thought out of my mind and coaxed the Krups back into service. (A little cleaning with water and vinegar does wonders.)

Now the Krups is doing something I don't think I can fix -- or ignore. It's burning our coffee. On purpose, I think. So, I'm hunting again. And I'm overwhelmed again. Capresso, Miele, DeLonghi, Bosch, La Marzocco... what's a girl to do?

Sexy Soda

2008-10-02T15:12:00.005-07:00

The problem with soda pops is that they are too sugary sweet, even the diet ones. So imagine my delight when I read about a new kind of soda, called Dry Soda.

Made by a Seattle company, Dry Soda is a refreshing alternative to sickly sweet sodas. It's sexy, with barely a whisper of sweetness from pure cane sugar and each 12 oz. bottle only contains 50 calories.

So far I've tried the Lemongrass flavor and the Rhubarb flavor. Next on my list are the Kumquat and Lavender flavors. I was surprised at how little sweet flavor there was, and the sodas aren't too bubbly, just enough to be refreshing.

The Rhubarb is, um, an acquired taste, but I totally fell in love with the Lemongrass. It's delicately flavored with a subtle undertone of the unique flavor of lemongrass -- not quite lemon, not quite lime, but somewhere in between.

I've heard that Dry Soda is on the verge of releasing two new flavors -- Vanilla Bean and, get this -- Juniper Berry (oh, Gin lovers rejoice!)

I found Dry Soda in 4 packs at Whole Foods. I wish they would package a variety pack, though, so you could get one of each flavor. But at least you only buy 4 at a time, so if you don't like a flavor (eh hm, Rhubarb), you don't have a whole pantry full of them.

The Dry Soda website has recipes for each flavor, and I think I'll take my other three Rhubarb flavors and make Rhubarb Mojitos out of them. Everything goes with rum, right?

Political Indigestion

2008-10-01T16:14:00.004-07:00

Food and politics are a recipe for indigestion, but I have to mix them just for a minute. I am a flag-waving, card-carrying independent, and usually, I keep my political opinions to myself, but today, I feel compelled to say something.

I'm not sure our elected officials are in touch with reality. I interviewed a woman yesterday for a story. She owns a small food business. She had just received a letter from her bank announcing that her line of credit was frozen. Kaput.

She needs that credit to make it through the holiday season -- a significant majority of her annual revenue is generated between October and December. And now, she may not be able to hire the seasonal employees she needs, rent the extra commercial kitchen space she needs, and, and, and. And, she's never defaulted on a single payment in the past and only carries debt when she needs to.

It's frustrating to hear the media spew comments from "the general public" who feel that the current credit crisis is a wall street/rich person's problem. It's impacting everyone, some are just lucky enough not to feel it right this moment. But it will eventually touch everyone.

I hope the people in Washington wake up and smell the coffee. Soon.

Dirty Fingers.....

2008-09-25T08:16:00.005-07:00

When was the last time you encountered a finger bowl at a restaurant? You know what I'm talking about, right?

A finger bowl is a tiny little bowl, filled with water, for the purpose of rinsing your fingers between courses, especially if said courses involve eating with your hands.

Many cultures still eat with their hands (I'm thinking of Ethiopian and Moroccan off the top of my head). I have never eaten at a restaurant that delivered finger bowls to the table, although I've read about them.

We dined at an Asian restaurant recently, and the first thing brought to the table, after the menus, was a bamboo cradle holding a steamy, hot towel. I thought for a moment I was in business class on my way to Europe.

Apparently, it isn't uncommon to receive a hot towel before the meal in many Japanese restaurants, but it was the first time I ever encountered it and I think I kind of like it.

Curious Cook...

2008-09-24T07:38:00.007-07:00

Memory can just happen -- and then you are at the mercy of how your brain is wired -- or you can work to remember. People ask me how I can pick out certain flavors in dishes. They think I'm a supertaster.

I'm not a supertaster, and in fact, people who are supertasters are at a disadvantage because their taste buds are too sensitive to discern certain flavors. Fault how many taste buds they have on their tongue compared to a normal tongue. (Are you a supertaster?)

The reason I can pick nutmeg out of a white sauce is because I have built a nutmeg flavor profile in my brain. I have tasted nutmeg -- all by itself and in combination with other ingredients -- hundreds of times.

I can tell if something needs salt because I've tasted thousands of dishes with and without salt. It's not rocket science. It's really pretty simple. You put things in your mouth and think about them.

My husband will never build a flavor bank in his brain, not because he can't, he can -- anyone can. He won't because he doesn't like to taste a dish's components individually or in stages as the dish comes together. He only wants to eat the finished product.

I'm the opposite. I want to taste each individual ingredient, and taste them again as each one is added to a dish. That is the definition of a curious cook.

French Butter Pears

2008-09-22T13:51:00.008-07:00

There they sit on the window sill, wondering what's to become of them. The middle one is leaning toward the left, as if straining to hear the other one.

They are French Butter pears, and I found them at Whole Foods Market. The sticker says they're from California. Since I'm in Utah at the moment, they didn't have to travel too far, although much further than the peaches I bought yesterday at the farmers market that traveled only 60 miles.

A little research tells me that this pear is also known as Beurre Hardy and is a relative of the Anjou (which isn't my favorite -- that would be Comice). This heritage variety was used almost exclusively for canning up until several years ago, since it doesn't travel well when even the slightest bit ripe. But farmers markets and specialty grocery stores are stocking the French Butter pear when it's grown nearby.

I'm waiting for them to ripen. Pears are one of a handful of fruits that ripen off the tree (bananas, peaches and plums are others), so it's only a matter of days before the flesh around the stem begins to give a little under pressure. By then, I'll be able to detect a delicate, pear fragrance from the bottom end. For now, the butter pears are window dressing. In a few days, they'll be sugary sand in my mouth. Hurry.