le blog de tranny

July 21, 2011

my 5 favorite sf watering holes

I’m coming off a weekend where I worked over 20 hours, so this just seemed like an appropriate post to make. Yes we all know what it feels like to be in our mid-20s, nostalgic for college, adjusting to the cruel relentless grind of the work week (and weekend, if we’re lucky). Obviously, since I have lived in Lower Haight and now Lower Mission, only bars in and around this locale made my list because I only dare blog what I know.

(1) Bloodhound

(Photo: www.bloodhoundsf.com)
We first discovered Bloodhound because Caro used to operate Chairman Bao while it was parked outside of it on Wednesdays. Not only is it beautifully designed, but the drinks are classy (I usually get the Recoil or one of the gin cocktails off the menu), the bartenders are legit, and it’s in SOMA, which is cool. (I still maintain that I will buy myself a hip SOMA loft in this lifetime.)

(2) Churchill

(Photo: Haigheration)
Yes, clearly I am a fan of what Darin and Dylan (of both Bloodhound and Churchill) have going on. This city just needs more lively, interesting spaces with bartenders who know what they’re doing. Churchill, like Bloodhound, attracts a pretty mixed crowd. I’d say that Bloodhound can have more of a FiDi or brostep-y feel, whereas Churchill is a pretty solid mix of young WASPS, hot messes and food-centric asians. One thing to note (which has not always ended well for us) is that the cocktails here are really strong. All it takes is two for Jane and me (and maybe three for Caro) to be completely shitfaced (and two is usually all I can handle). Talk about bang for your buck! Did I mention that there’s a pool table? It also helps that Churchill is a five minute walk from my house .

(3) Nopa

(Photo: Eater SF)
Gah! Perhaps the *only* reason that I miss my old neighborhood is that I was three blocks from Nopa. Whether I’m drinking a Cocchi Cup at dinner or a Ramos Gin Fizz at brunch, Nopa has and always will be one of my favorites. The staff (who we’ve gotten to know a little too well) there are super cool and it also doesn’t hurt that the food is impeccable, not to mention well-priced. I mean I know Nopa is more of a resto with a bar than a bar that serves food but it still deserves props for having an innovative, stand-alone cocktail menu.

(4) Phonebooth

(Photo: SF Weekly)
You didn’t think I was all about fancy shmancy joints did you? Believe it or not, this girl can appreciate a good dive, and when it comes to SF dives (of which there are many), this one tops my list. Maybe it’s the deliciously cheap and strong gin greyhounds. Maybe it’s all the hipsters smoking inside (no, probably not them). Maybe it’s the Depeche Mode or other catchy post-punk (I don’t know shit about musical genres) that always comes on at full volume as I’m reaching the peak of my drunkenness, I don’t know. I’ve never had a bad time there. And I never feel bad about losing my shit a little while I’m there because it’s so dark inside.

(5) Zeitgeist

(Photo: Grubstreet SF)
What could be better than Zeitgeist? They’re known for their Bloody Marys (one of my favorite beverages, at all hours of the day), you can get a pitcher for like 7 bucks, they serve tasty burgers and sausages, and they are one of few bars around here with (ample) outdoor seating. Also, I can literally see Zeitgeist from my house. If I lived across the street from Thee Parkside I’m sure I would feel equally or more passionately about it, but I don’t.

July 12, 2011

reclaiming my heritage with banh nam & cha lua

There is something so rewarding about realizing you can recreate dishes that mystified you as a child. Dishes that you loved to eat, that even just the smell of could invoke an onslaught of nostalgia, yet you could never even guess what went into them. I dug deep into my heritage amidst this past working weekend (being busy at work makes tranny a bad blogger) to try and make something special for Gina and Aaron’s heritage dinner. They have these fairly often, but this is the first one I’ve ever been party to. The idea is to bring a dish that reminds you of your heritage or somewhere you grew up. A dish that maybe your aunt or grandmother or mother used to make.

[banh nam aka flat rice flour dumplings with shrimp and scallions]

My mom never cooked traditional Vietnamese much when I was young, aside from this killer tom rim recipe, but I definitely wanted to take this opportunity to explore Vietnamese cooking a bit more. I considered making banh cuon or ga roti then I realized, while I was researching Vietnamese recipes, that there wasn’t a single recipe for banh nam, one of my favorite snacks as a child, in English, on the internet. So I had my mom translate one from Vietnamese (and altered it slightly to match my expectations). It was a risk, because I had no idea what the expect over the course of execution, but it turned out exactly as I remembered it. So here is my contribution to the English-speaking blogosphere: a recipe for banh nam, just like what you can get from the Vietnamese bakeries, courtesy of my mom and me.

Finding banana leaves is so worth it. It’s everything to this, and so many other Vietnamese dishes. The smell of steamed banana leaves is perhaps the strongest scent association I have from my childhood. (Well, that and the smell of wet asphalt.)

When I shared this with my friends they noted that it was like a Vietnamese version of tamales. They are kind of like gooey, flat tamales. But much lighter and more fragrant, in my opinion.

The Vietnamese version of the recipe tells you to smash the shrimp after you cook them. I’m not exactly sure how one is supposed to go about doing that in the traditional preparation (using a big mortar and pestle maybe, machaca-style?) — I ran the shrimp through the food processor before throwing them in the pan, and then ran them through the food processor again after cooking them, with the scallions. One could probably get away with just food processing or finely chopping the shrimp after they’ve been cooked; I’m just neurotic.

New staples for my pantry.

I used to eat these babies for breakfast, with nuoc mam. Could this be where my affinity for savory breakfast foods stems from? Are savory taste buds a product of nature, or nurture? Also, someone told me that if you’re already getting a lot of sugar from alcoholic beverages, you won’t crave sugar in your diet as much. I’ll take all three explanations.

Banh Nam
Makes about a dozen.

You need:
- banana leaves (I got them frozen at the asian supermarket and defrosted them on the counter)
- 1 lb of shrimp, peeled and deveined (it’s common for there to be some ground pork in there as well – I’d do half a pound of pork per pound of shrimp)
- scallions (about 6)
- oil, s&p for the shrimp/scallion mixture
- 1 cup of rice flour
- 3 cups of water
- 2 tbsp of tapioca flour
- 1 tsp of salt
- 1 tbsp of oil

Special equipment:
- a steaming device
- something to grind up the shrimp with (a knife and some persistence would probably do)

How to:
- Cut the banana leaves into big strips, about the width of two hands. Rinse and dry.
- Cook the shrimp in a pan with some neutral oil and s&p. Throw the shrimp into a food processor with the chopped scallions (no need to cook them in the pan; they will steam with the shrimp). Pulse the food processor until the shrimp is ground up into small bits.
- Make the flour mixture. Combine ingredients 5 through 9 (starting with the rice flour) in a bowl. Whisk well to scrape up all the tapioca flour off the bottom. Transfer this mixture to a pot, and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture comes to a boil and thickens up into a paste. Turn off the heat.
- Assemble your banh nam. Spread 1-2 spoonfuls of the flour mixture down the center of a banana leaf. Spread a few spoonfuls of the shrimp and scallion mixture evenly over the flour mixture. Fold up the banana leaf, press down on the mixture a bit with your hands to flatten it out, and fasten the banana leaf parcel with either kitchen string or a strand of banana leaf.
- Steam until cooked through (the flour paste will be slightly translucent and green). Allow to cool. Serve with nuoc mam.

I was surprised at how much I nailed this one. Maybe it’s not the same as what you’d get in Vietnam (I wouldn’t know) but it’s certainly as good as any banh nam I’ve ever had from Little Saigon!

Cha Lua

I also made cha lua (aka Vietnamese steamed pork ham sausage thingy?) which was a bit of a grizzly affair, especially the part where I grind the gelatinous pork mixture into a paste. I pretty much followed this recipe to a T, and even deep-fried one of them to make cha chien, which I figured would appeal more to my heritage dinner audience. Now I have two more just sitting in the fridge, waiting to be used! Perhaps I’ll make banh cuon to serve it with, or some banh mi to take to work for lunch.

Cha lua had always been somewhat of a mystery meat to me growing up, but a delicious one at that. Turns out it’s just ground pork mixed with single acting baking powder, tapioca flour, water, sugar and fish sauce, ground to a very smooth texture and steamed in banana leaves. Simple enough, right? Turns out it’s fairly fool-proof.

The Ravenous Couple’s recipe calls for twice-ground lean pork. I unfortunately did not have access to a butcher willing to perform such a task, but I made sure to grind up the meat real good in my trusty new Cuisinart 12 cup food processor before forming the pork mixture into loaves, and the texture came out perfectly.

If you think this looks gross, you should’ve been there IRL.

Same method of cooking as the banh nam — you steam the banana leave parcels. They say that the cha lua is done cooking if it bounces when you throw it against a hard surface. I can attest that this is true.

The cha lua expands while it’s cooking, so you should be mindful of that when you’re securing the parcels. The one above was wrapped a little too tight and was bursting at the seams by the time it was done!

[cha lua]

It’s supposed to look like that.

To make cha chien, you just fry the cha lua on all sides in some oil. Et voila! A delicious Vietnamese cold cut to share with your friends! Some of my besties had previously tried cha lua once at Banh Cuon Tay Ho in downtown Oakland and were sketched out by it (I think it was the texture), but they gobbled mine up (and found it delicious) because they knew that I had made it . I can’t think of a higher compliment – friends not only appreciating your heritage, but trusting you and the food that you feed them.

[cha chien]

3 comments

July 12, 2011

box of treasures

It’s so inspiring when someone says they have a dream, and then a little over a year later, makes it happen FOR REAL. That’s exactly what’s happening with Caro and her truck Brunch Box, set to kick off this week with a FiDi spot on Thursdays (Mission & 1st), Sightglass on Fridays, Ritual on Saturdays, and Proxy on Sundays.

Did I mention that the pork belly hash (served with *two* poached eggs) is killer? Can’t wait to try the Croque Madame this weekend. So proud!

July 1, 2011

soup diary: channeling Ina

I realize it’s (supposed to be) summer in SF but I’ve really been on a soup kick lately. This could be a reaction to all the roasts and mac ‘n cheese from Focaccia that I’ve been eating on my lunch break. All I know is, as dinnertime rolls around, I find myself craving something warming yet light, something that can easily be loaded with some much-needed veg, something… soupy. The other week on Paul’s only day off we were planning on having a quiet evening in, ordering Thai from our go-to place and catching up on perhaps the only tv left on Netflix instant watch that we haven’t exhausted.. On our way home, however, Paul suggested that instead of ordering Thai I cook him dinner. I was at first averse to the idea but then I realized we had some broccoli left in the fridge that was rapidly going off.

[turkey meatball soup with lemon, broccoli & escarole]

We also had a lemon, some chicken broth, some panko bread crumbs.. so I thought maybe I’d attempt a soup that was loaded with bright Italian flavors but not too heavy. Perhaps I would do a riff on Italian wedding soup, but with white meat for the meatballs like the soup Ina made for her wedding anniversary on Barefoot Contessa: Back to Basics (Jeffrey loves chicken). To channel Ina even more, I’d use fennel in the soup base (she’s a fan of including it in her mirepoix) and lemon (perhaps her favorite ingredient) to brighten up the soup — lemon zest in the meatballs and lemon juice to finish off the broth. So off to Falletti Paul went.

They didn’t have ground chicken, so I made turkey meatballs instead. I threw together the ground turkey with some scallions, garlic and parsley, an egg yolk, a handful each of grated parm and panko breadcrumbs, and the secret ingredient: the zest of half a lemon. I seasoned the mixture liberally with s&p and added more breadcrumbs until the texture felt right between my fingers. Don’t really know how you can make meatballs without being hands on.

I used a trick I picked up from a vegetarian minestrone recipe from Epicurious that I made a while back — using old parmesan rinds to flavor the broth. I also stirred in some escarole at the end, also borrowed from that recipe.

Cooking the noodles directly in the soup gave it a nice thick consistency. The finished soup was both hearty and healthy (at least by my standards), with a flavorful, nuanced broth. Ina would’ve been proud. (Or more likely, she would’ve not cared as I’m neither a WASP nor a gay man.)

Turkey Meatball Soup with Lemon, Broccoli & Escarole
What I had:
- ground turkey
- scallions
- panko breadcrumbs
- an egg
- parmesan cheese
- parsley
- minced garlic
- zest of half a lemon
- canola oil + butter
- a fennel bulb
- leeks
- broccoli
- leeks
- escarole
- parmesan rinds
- a carton of chicken broth
- a cup and a half to two cups of water
- small pasta, like orecchiette

What I did:
- Combine coarsely chopped fennel and leeks in a pot with a little bit of olive oil. Saute on medium-low heat until nicely caramelized, about 20 minutes.
- Meanwhile, make turkey meatballs out of the first six ingredients. Form them into small meatballs. Set aside.
- Add broccoli, parmesan rinds and minced garlic to the pot; season well with s&p. Stir for about five minutes until broccoli starts to turn bright green. Pour in chicken stock and water to cover. Bring to a simmer.
- Brown the meatballs on all sides in some canola oil + butter. Do not cook them all the way through (they’ll finish in the soup).
- After the soup has been simmering for.. a while, fish out the parm rinds, add the partially cooked meatballs and about four handfuls of orecchiette pasta. Cover and simmer for 10 more minutes so that the meatballs and pasta cook all the way through.
- Turn off the heat then stir in escarole and a healthy squeeze or two of lemon juice. Season to taste. Serve with parsley and freshly grated parm on top.

2 comments

June 18, 2011

pdx weekender, days 2-3

* Day 2 – Boise, Hair of the Dog, Little Bird *

The next day Jane and I ventured East, for a perfect Sunday brunch at Tasty ‘n Sons, after grabbing a disappointing iced coffee at Stumptown. The iced coffee we had at Barista was a billion times better, but I guess it didn’t come in this cool bottle?

We had to put our name in because Tasty doesn’t take reservations but luckily there was a vintage store on wheels across the street for a mild diversion.

Finally we were seated at the bar at Tasty ‘n Sons. If there is one thing I love more than savory brunch, it’s savory brunch with brunch-appropriate cocktails. And if there is one thing I love more than a gin fizz, it’s a rose gin fizz.

[Rose City Fizz: aviation gin, egg white, cream, lemon, rose water and soda]

I kind of felt bad that there was not a single trace of green on either of the plates we ordered, but this feeling quickly dissipated once our food arrived. I think it took us all of ten minutes to wipe this plate (or should I say cazuela?) clean.

[polenta and sausage ragu with mozzarella and fried egg]

[fried egg and cheddar biscuit with fried chicken]

Everything we ordered was delectable and decadent. It was tempting to stuff ourselves but we decided to stop at two entrees. But brunch was going so swimmingly, why cut it short? Another cocktail was in order. Jane uncharacteristically went for the beef jerky bloody mary. I guess it was time to let loose! For my part, I ordered the almosa: bubbles, orange and aperol.

That housemade beef jerky was definitely worth the extra dollar.

Afterwards we took a leisurely 1/2 mile stroll to Mississippi Ave., where we popped into a few shops and a nursery.

After spending an hour or so on Mississippi Ave., we were ready for Hair of the Dog (har har). Since the theme of the day was letting loose, we decided to order tasters of each of their beers!

We also ordered this meat plate thing.

After chugging the 13.5% abv taster because our cab was waiting outside, we had an interesting ride back to the Pearl District followed by naptime and some MTV. The VMAs to be exact. So bad. I felt like it was the 90s again. Who knew that a mere three hours later I’d be transported back to the 90s FORREAL by the sounds of Koreyne crooning the Cranberries and Jane belting Les Miz (one of my fave musicals as a kid).

When the clock struck 9.00 we had finally mustered up the will to go to dinner. To my dismay, Le Pigeon, our original plan, was already closed. Luckily Le Pigeon’s more casual, bistro counterpart, Little Bird, was still open, and walking distance from The Ace no less. The menu was chock full of that simple kind of French fare I love to eat. I was hard-pressed to find a single item I wouldn’t order. I even found the desserts tempting (lavender creme brulee).

I finally fulfilled my promise to my body to feed it some ruffage after a long day of stuffing my face with meat and carbs.

[butter lettuce salad with radish and Pernod vinaigrette]

I decided on the short rib which had been roasted for 15 hours. It was a very good decision.

[roasted short rib, bone marrow vinaigrette, horseradish, served with cippolini onions, potatoes and carrots]

A parting gift of mini banana macarons. Nice touch.

* Day 3 – Food Cart Land, Shopping, Barista (again) *

We wanted to rep our sadly absent Caroline so of course we had to pay respects to the portable food vendors. One such congregation was conveniently located a few blocks from our hotel, so it was the obvious choice for a first meal on our last day.

A gathering of food carts.

LOLOL.

Korey ordered a vegetarian omelet sandwich thing from the PDX Brunch Box and chased it with a spring roll from one of the Thai carts.

Another gathering of food carts.

Jane and I, reeling from 48 hours worth of heavy drinking and eating, had been planning on going to the pho cart called Pho Le, which was closed even though Yelp said it’d be open goddamnit!

Luckily there was a Korean stand called Bulkogi Fusion at the first intersection we’d gone to. I ordered a kimchi and pork wonton ramen and it hit the spot like no other.

Jane’s kimchi ramen.

Thanks for a great weekend ladies!

Day 1 here.

1 comment

June 18, 2011

pdx weekender, day 1

I came to Portland because we had planned on a girls only getaway weekend, because I’d been told I’d like it there. I’d been itching to check out the hipster mecca of the Pacific NW for years now, with its peaceful greenery, ample breweries, delicious coffee, and burgeoning food (cart) scene.

In the end, I found that the things I love to do most in Portland are the things that don’t set it apart from SF. I like the boozy brunches, snobby cocktail joints and casual yet upscale new American restos. SF arguably has more of each. Yet at the same time, I found Portland to be a calmer, cleaner city than SF, refreshingly so. A city in which I could feel comfortable walking the streets at all hours of the night, rather than having to worry about being pistol-whipped or stepping in human feces. A city in which the baristas are cute *and* friendly, and where cars will stop to let you jaywalk in front of them rather than laying on their horn and charging right at you.

A city that’s incredibly quiet, even at the hippest establishments, perhaps because they are filled with white people (Charlotte from SATC says WASPs don’t yell?). Yes, Portland is a shockingly white city, which was kind of disarming to our 5/6ths asian crew. In the Pearl District, we would literally traverse several city blocks, sit in certain restaurants for over an hour, without seeing a single non-white person. Not saying that’s a bad thing but very curious indeed.

The hype around places like Voodoo Donuts, Powell’s Books, Kenny and Zuke’s, Apizza Scholls and Stumptown is palpable, but we decided as a group to not bother with the first two, namely because, (1) waiting in line for donuts is stupid and on the rare occasion that I crave a donut, I want it to be simple and straightforward, not laden with fruit loops or shaped like a penis, and (2) seeing Powell’s Books (which was right next to our hotel) from the outside was good enough for me. We steered clear of Kenny and Zuke’s, also next to the hotel, as Jane mentioned that the food there is “gross.”

[We stayed at the Ace.]

* Day 1 – The Pearl District *

There was no shortage of recommendations for coffee shops to check out in Portland. Stumptown is perhaps the most well-known, but I’d also been told to go to Heart, and Barista came very highly recommended by the biggest coffee geek we know. I’ve only recently begun to appreciate the role the barista plays in producing a good cup of coffee. Coffee from the best roaster, if burned, tastes like shit. Barista boasted both talented baristas and a carefully curated selection of espresso and coffee from the likes of Stumptown, Heart and Intelligentsia. (They have tastings every Monday to figure out their line-up.) It was just what we needed to kick off our vacation.

My Nicaraguan french press from Intelligentsia.

The first time we went to Barista, Jane ordered a delicious iced coffee made from a Guatemalan roast from Heart. Paired with a little soy milk it was ridiculously good. So good that on our last day in Portland the three of us came back and all ordered it.

Next it was time for Deschutes Brewery, which Jane had been raving about since her last trip to Portland. I have to say, it was definitely one of the highlights of our weekend. We each started off with a sampler and some food, followed by another round of oh I don’t remember. I think of the beers we ordered Cascade and Green Lakes were my favorites. I also ordered the most amazing, succulent elk burger. Who knew?! It was possibly the best thing I ate on the trip. I can’t stop thinking about it.

[elk burger with gruyere, roasted shallot and thyme mayo, brioche bun]

After a hazy shopping experience and getting acquainted with our hotel room, we ventured out again to Teardrop Lounge, a cocktail bar well-loved by Chowhounders and recommended by our server at Deschutes. We were warned that the bartenders there would be “snobby” but I guess I don’t give a damn as long as they can make me an interesting cocktail. It’s not like I’m going to order a pineapple vodka or some shit.

An interesting interior…

Jane and I were quite fixated on this useful glossary of cocktail terms. “Nopa should have something like this,” said she. Are you there, Nopa? It’s me, Tranny.

Unfinished Business: gin, Cocchi Americano, Bonal gentian aperitif, Rocky’s bitters, agave nectar, absinthe.

We finished off the day with dinner at Clyde Common.

Communal tables seem to be the trend in Portland.

[East of Eden: gin, lemon, egg whites, gewurztraminer reduction, elderflower]

I started off with the fideos, which I liked and Jane loved. Note to self: never order dishes drenched in squid ink if wearing a newly purchased white blouse.

[fideos, scallops, squid, Italian sausage, squid ink vinaigrette, aioli]

My entree made for a great picture, but I have to say that the trout tasted a bit too earthy for me. Note to self: inquire as to the type of trout upon ordering, only order ocean trout, never river trout.

[prosciutto wrapped trout, lemon, greens, fried egg, maitake]

I am realizing now that I have too many photos for one post…
Days 2-3 here.

1 comment

June 4, 2011

soup diary: hot, sour, savory

As I get older, my eyes get worse. I squint at menus painted above the cashiers at Mexican restaurants. I actually feel *hung over* the morning after a big night of drinking. I’m not as sharp as I used to be. And you know what else? I’ve somehow managed to dull my palate. Me, the girl who used to have no tolerance for spicy foods as a child, now piles Tapatio on top of her eggs and burritos. At sushi restaurants, I add so much wasabi to my soy sauce that it turns into a paste and my nose explodes. I crave savory, spicy soups like tom yum and bun rieu (and kimchi ramyun hehe) that burn as they go down, all the way to my esophagus, but with a pleasurable kind of pain that immediately fuels the impulse to slurp down another spoonful. Nowadays, when I’m sitting in bed watching Skins with Paul, I rarely order anything other than Thai food for delivery. It’s the tom yum goong for sure. That spicy, savory, sour broth is irresistible to my asian palate. It’s addicting.

Well one day I was like, “What the hell? Why don’t I ever attempt to satiate my craving for hot, salty, sour liquids with something homemade?” Surely it’s not difficult to craft a soup with these very qualities. Well actually, it kind of is if you are living in Lower Haight. I found myself wanting to bus over to Duc Loi, the closest bonafide asian supermarket I know, where I could find the ingredients that are key to such a soup. Ingredients like shrimp paste, or really anything to make a shrimp or crab-based broth. Luckily the Korean mini mart on Divis and Page had shrimp bouillon; if it didn’t I simply would not have been able to make a soup bearing the flavors I so desperately craved. I mean, Falletti doesn’t offer any means of making a pork or shrimp stock, short of making it from scratch of course. They also had a disappointing selection of spicy flavorings for me to put in my soup. I ended up opting for the chili garlic sauce that I had leftover in my fridge. It looks like this.

I feel like it’s pretty standard though in most grocery stores, in spite of the fact that it’s a Viet condiment.

I had bun rieu on my mind so I opted for the skinny rice stick noodles, fried up some tofu, added some fresh tomatoes and tomato paste to the shrimp stock, and threw in some canned crab. I also added some kale and pea shoots for something green. I didn’t have kefir lime leaves or lemon grass, so regular old limes had to do. I threw in some basil at the end for an aromatic effect.

So anyway, I’d call this a mix between tom yum and bun rieu, using (mostly) whitey ingredients.

Hot, Sour, Savory Soup with Fried Tofu, Crab & Kale
- Fry up some tofu. Pat extra firm tofu dry with paper towels and then fry, in cubes, in canola oil until brown and crispy on both sides. Season with salt.
- Make shrimp stock. (For me, this entailed dissolving 2 shrimp bouillon cubes in 6 cups of boiling water.)
- As the soup is simmering, add the zest of 1 lime and the juice of 2 limes.
- Add 3 heaping tbsp of chili garlic sauce.
- Cut 2-3 tomatoes into wedges and throw them in the soup.
- De-stem and chop some dino kale and throw it in the soup.
- Add 1 tbsp of tomato paste.
- As the soup is simmering and after you’ve added these things, taste it for seasoning. Adjust as necessary.
- Then add two cans of crab and the rice sticks and allow to simmer for a few minutes until the noodles are soft. Turn off the heat.
- Stir in chiffonade basil, pea shoots, the fried tofu and some chopped scallions. Serve immediately topped with more basil.

We had leftovers for days, it was delicious and sinus-cleansing, and it really didn’t take long to make at all. Next time I’ll make an asian soup for real, but this one suited me just fine.

May 21, 2011

veg ribbon “pasta” with toasted breadcrumbs

Ribbon salads are quite common, and I even remember Caro telling me once about a pasta salad she’d had at an Ici luncheon with strips of squash and trumpet mushroom. When Paul and I were in LA visiting my parents a few weekends ago he ordered this salad at Mar’sel that looked like pappardelle but was really perfectly dressed strips of hearts of palm and zucchini. The more that I mature as a home cook, the more I’m drawn to meals like these, that serve an aesthetic purpose almost higher than the eating of the dish itself. It’s fun and creative and feels like art.

Tired and silly as it may be I don’t think I’ll ever not find making my food smile back at me amusing. In fact I think I shall do this more often when I’ve had a bad day.

I realize how this sounds but I think I push myself more to make my food look beautiful and focus on the details if I’m cooking vegetarian. For me a meal of all veg needs to have that extra novelty above and beyond being flavorsome and well-executed. I should really create a vegetarian tag on here. FYI, if your Google Reader (hi Carson) randomly shows posts that I made several months ago, it’s probably because I’ve added or reclassified a tag on the post. I wish it wouldn’t do that because I’m constantly having to reevaluate the way things are organized on this blog.

The idea was to make a “pasta” entirely of ribbons of (or ribbon-like) vegetables. As I mentioned earlier, I’ve seen a number of veg ribbon dishes in my day, but none that went whole hog with the ribbons as pasta idea. So I had Paul pick up a small eggplant, three trumpet mushrooms, a bundle of skinny asparagus, three zucchini and basil at Berkeley Bowl. I also had him pick up the small balls of mozzarella, for a “spaghetti & meatballs” type motif. I already had panko breadcrumbs, lemons and garlic on hand.

First, I prepped the vegetables for their transformation into “pasta.” I peeled the eggplant and cut the less tender ends off the trumpet mushrooms, asparagus and zucchini. Then, using my handy dandy mandoline and tip-of-the-knife skills, I cut the trumpet mushrooms, zucchini and eggplant into strips. I tried to make the strips as long as possible (which is no easy feat) and also made sure not to cut them too thin, because I didn’t want them to fall apart after roasting. After tossing them with olive oil, salt and pepper, I roasted the eggplant, trumpet mushrooms and asparagus at 400 degrees F until tender but not falling apart. The eggplant and trumpet mushrooms didn’t take long at all because the strips were pretty thin.

I kept the zucchini raw, for a little bit of crunch.

While the vegetables were roasting, I made the lemon garlic vinaigrette we love to make around here. I actually kept track of the proportions this time: two small garlic cloves smashed in the mortar and pestle with a teaspoon of kosher salt until creamy, zest of half a lemon, juice of a lemon, teaspoon of dijon and just enough extra virgin olive oil to bring it all together (I hate it when dressings are too oily).

I tossed all of the veg strips with the vinaigrette, like a beautiful salad.

For the finishing touches, I toasted some breadcrumbs in a pan with a little bit of olive oil, some slivered garlic and a pinch of salt. I cut my basil into chiffonade, obviously, to keep with the ribbon theme. I tossed the basil with the dressed veg strips and then plated the veg “pasta” with mozzarella balls, toasted breadcrumbs and more chiffonade basil on top.

It was delicious, it took me under an hour to make, and serving four people it probably would’ve come out to under $5 per person. Maybe those vegetarians really do have the right idea..

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May 3, 2011

frittata-off

I realized that though I’ve written about frittatas on here before and make them all the time, I’ve never actually posted a recipe. I think I never bothered because I figured it was too simple a dish to be worth mentioning, but I realized as of late that that’s not necessarily true. I had been confident that I, and anyone who set their mind to it, could make a perfect frittata with minimal effort, until the rekindling of an old rivalry cast doubt on my former self-assurance. Char and I both love to cook and both have significant others who love to eat, so we decided to have a duel of sorts, but were unsure as to what the battleground should be. We had to limit ourselves to one dish given capacity constraints in my kitchen, and we thought that a Top Chef-esque showdown might be too open-ended (the dishes needed be comparable), while an Iron Chef-esque showdown could too easily lead to an uneven playing field (he doesn’t really cook seafood, while I have very limited experience cooking duck and pork).

After Annabel mentioned a frittata he’d made once, I knew that had to be it — a frittata-off. Of course he was game, because he’s cooked many frittatas in his day, as have I. But once I set to it I realized there were so many ways in which such a simple dish could be.. imperfect. The right cooking vessel, the right balance of cheese, eggs and milk (my preference is to use milk because I always have it on hand while Char is a proponent of using cream), the right timing — all of these things are required to produce a frittata with a lovely fluffy texture that is nice and thick and not burnt on the bottom. Or at least these were the thoughts that flooded my head once we started cooking. The funny thing is I still don’t really have precise measurements for this recipe, even after my frittata-making abilities were closely scrutinized, mainly by me.

Since we had limited information about each other’s technique, the strategy lay in our respective selections of ingredients, which would not be revealed until the morning of the frittata-off. I decided to do a variation on the frittata I made last Easter when we were living in the Oakland house, which had pancetta, asparagus, green garlic, chives, parsley and parmesan. Falletti does not have green garlic. So I made one with pancetta, leek, regular garlic, asparagus, parsley and parm this time.

Char’s shtick seems to be extravagance with fats and rich flavors, so he opted to make a potato and leek frittata with crumbled bacon and two types of cheeses – parmesan and gruyere. I have to hand it to him — using gruyere was a really nice variation and added great flavor. I had never considered using a hard cheese other than parmesan in my frittatas, for whatever reason.

Note that we both chose to use leeks and cured pork belly, because those are essential to pretty much any frittata. But in spite of these same ingredients choices we still ended up making frittatas that were quite different. Even though I used a stick of butter in mine, mine was deemed the “healthy” option, while Brent’s had not a single fleck of green.

It was KZ who first made me a frittata and then later gave me the recipe while I was abroad, by posting it on my Facebook wall. I’ve used some variation of this recipe ever since. This is how I made my contender for our frittata-off. If you want Brent’s recipe, you’re going to have to ask him. His was more layered like a tart.

- Choose a pan that is oven-safe and not too large. You don’t want the frittata to be too thin.
- Make the egg mixture: beat a dozen eggs with (1/2 a cup?) of milk, season with s&p, add about 1/3 a cup of grated parmesan. Preheat the broiler.
- Fry the pancetta or bacon to desired crispness. Set aside. Pour off some of the fat but keep most of it.
- Saute the asparagus and leeks with garlic and butter in the pork fat pan. Season with s&p.
- Once the vegetables are almost cooked through (you don’t want to overcook the asparagus – if it’s bright green and still a little crunchy it’s the right time), add a little more butter and oil to the pan to coat the bottom (if needed), let it heat up a bit, then add the egg mixture. Give it a quick stir to let some of the eggs run to the bottom of the pan. Keep over medium-high heat until the eggs are just set on the top. If I had to give one tip on making frittatas it would be to watch it like a hawk, rotating the pot so it cooks evenly and giving it a gentle shake every once in a while. If you smell burning, rotate the pot, move it to the side a bit, turn down the heat, whatever you have to do. This is obviously not an exact science.
- Once the eggs are almost set but just a little runny on the top, pop it in the broiler to finish off the top. This should take 5 minutes at most. When you take it out, the top should be slightly puffed up and just starting to brown. Immediately top it with more freshly grated parm so that it melts. Let it cool for a little while before serving. Top with fresh parsley.

Char’s frittata came out looking like a double cheese pizza from Pizza Hut, but it was deliciously decadent and I must confess, slightly thicker than mine (if you’re into that).

He served us a few pieces then, suddenly and inexplicably, Char’s frittata committed suicide. I laughed while Annabel hunched over in mourning.

At least I got my piece! (BTW, in the end only P and A were present for the tasting, so the competition would’ve most certainly been a draw had anyone vocalized their vote. Or else they would’ve been in the dog house.)

LOL.

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April 26, 2011

crabs for easter

It’s always a treat to visit my parents for a weekend in their swank new hilltop domicile with ocean views. They have everything a DIY foodie could possibly want — a wall of picture windows (read: loads of natural light for food photography), a spacious kitchen, sharp knives, disposable income and willingness to buy me the groceries I want, and gracious, adoring palates. It hadn’t even occurred to me when I booked flights for P and I that we’d be visiting the folks on easter weekend. It wasn’t until my dad emailed me a menu, oh that horrendous menu, of the easter Sunday brunch at Fleming’s that I became aware of the occasion. Scoffing at the menu, I immediately shot him an email back saying I’d prefer to make us brunch instead.

On the flight down, Nimbus and I began brainstorming ideas for easter brunch. I was initially going to do a corned beef hash with a poached egg on top (à la Nopa) with sage biscuits (à la Jane). In the end, my dread of baking and desire to cater to my mom’s tastes (she’s not so much a meat and potatoes gal) got the best of me, and I decided to go the more *fresh* *California* *hotel brunch* route.

Inspired by a salad Caro loves to make, or at least, that we often talk about (whenever it’s strawberry season, strawberry salads come out to play), I decided a strawberry-goat cheese-sugar snap pea salad would have to make an appearance in the brunch spread. I’d been thinking spinach but when we got to Bristol Farms I noticed they had mache, a spinach-like baby lettuce that’s sweet and nutty. It seemed like it would work perfectly and I’m always grasping for novelty in my food preparation (especially when I’m in an LA grocery store like Bristol Farms that doesn’t even have pea shoots or green garlic — I can’t help but be a produce snob!) so I nixed the spinach and went for the mache. I also grabbed some sliced almonds to round out the creamy sweet nutty flavor theme. The vinaigrette was a no-brainer — high quality Modena balsamic + pinch of dijon + honey + olive oil + pinch of salt + pepper — since good balsamic and strawberries is quite the classic combination.

I blanched the peas in salted boiling water for just a few minutes before rinsing them off under cold water. I really should blanch things more often but often find myself too lazy. It really is immensely more pleasant to bite into a blanched pea pod in your salad than a raw one, at least in my humble opinion – you still get the freshness and crunch but not to a grating degree.

[strawberry, sugar snap pea and mache salad with goat cheese and almonds, balsamic honey vinaigrette)

But this brunch wouldn't be my kind of brunch without a savory star to wake up the ol' palate. A gigantic crab cake, with a poached egg on top, and some kind of herby lemony reduction. My mom loves crab cakes and I love eggs. So we'd both be happy. (The men are easier to please.)

I have to hand it to Bristol Farms - their produce selection might be weak by Bay Area standards but their dungeness crab meat is top notch. The fishmonger picked out the best bits for me because I spoke to him on the phone. The meat was so sweet and succulent -- I almost regretted turning it into crab cakes.

[dungeness crab cake over mache, poached egg, lemon dill parsley reduction]

A bite or two of the unadulterated crab meat and I was ready to let go. I pretty much stuck to my old recipe for crab cakes but went easier on the mayo and instead of chives threw some fresh green onion into the crab cake mixture. I also halved the recipe.

I had the poached eggs and crab cakes going at once – it was quite the spectacle. Luckily I had a (somewhat reliable) sous chef. I mean he did wig out once and tell me to pull out an egg before it was done but by the by, he was a trusty kitchen partner.

The reduction was the trickiest part of the meal, which is to say, not 100 percent straightforward. I cooked a minced shallot in some butter for a while before adding a quarter cup of dry vermouth, the juice and zest of a lemon and a cup of fish stock. I reduced the fish stock by about half and added s&p and another quarter cup of vermouth to balance the flavors a bit. Right at the end I added corn starch slurry because it wasn’t thickening to my liking. I guess that’s cheating but who cares! I took it off the heat then stirred in a shitload of chopped fresh parsley and dill, because I wanted the reduction to be green. The herbs ended up browning in the hot liquid but the reduction still tasted great. I drizzled it over the poached egg right before serving.

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