exes and oh baby’s, Linda

I’m applying for a patent on this one. It is going to be very difficult to describe the extraordinary nature of this dish without employing the use of exuberant expletives, but I will try.  It all started with a strawberry picking and tasting adventure a mere one hour from Seattle and yet worlds away.  As my city-slicking Mercedes rolled through the gentle flats of the Skagit Valley, signs encouraged drivers to “slow down and follow your nose” which I did with aplomb.  The fertile flats of Skagit produce some of the finest grown goods in Washington, and stellar strawberries are no exception. Our small group had the great pleasure to tour and visit Skagit Sun berries as well as listen to the insightful musings of Farmer Don on the history of his berries and cucumbers (that sentence was not meant to sound dirty, but upon rereading it, I suppose it could be misconstrued).

Photo courtesy of Luuvu Hoang

We participated in a blind tasting of eight varieties of strawberries; I had no idea there would be such a vast difference in flavor.  In the end, I preferred two varieties: Shuksan and Hood. Shuksan berries are sweet and red throughout, with uniform flesh, a short shelf-life and unbeatable versatility in terms of complementing sweet and savory dishes as well as being great fresh or cooked.  The Hoods were piquant and almost candy-like in flavor with a thorough, intense sweetness that lingered on the palate for ages.  It is the height of Shuksan season right now, so get them while you can. Farmer Don was kind enough to let us pick our own flats of Shuksans so my mental wheels got to turning whilst we were out there under the haze-laced sun plucking away.  I love jams and jellies as much as anyone, but I was not about to preserve these precious plumpies for posterity.  I decided on both a sweet and a savory application, and somehow the divine inspiration of the strawberry gods put the idea of chocolate pasta into my head (well that and a conversation with my friend Luuvu).

When I got home, I promptly made a custard of Shuksans and lavender that would become ice cream the next day.  I also whipped up a crema pasticcera (pastry cream) infused with lavender with which to fill the chocolate pasta sheets.  The next day, the real work began.  {INSERT TERRIBLE CONFESSION HERE} Regular readers of my blog will know that I’m a primadonna pasta purist. I do not crank out sheets of pasta, I gently roll them with an old wooden pin, then cut whatever pasta I’m forming using a pastry cutter.  As far as tools go, I’ve always been happy (to make pasta 3+ times a week) with my pin, cutter and a glass of wine.  Well, the universe conspired and produced a gift certificate and a HUGE sale I couldn’t refuse, so long story short, I’m now the proud recipient of a pasta attachment for the Kitchenaid.  This chocolate pasta is the second I’ve made with it, and the most unfortunate part is that I no longer seem to need the glass of wine while pasta-making. You see, the wine acts as a thirst-quencher between rolls, but when a machine takes all the work away, you no longer require parch-abatement.  I suppose the pasta machine will help cure my excessive wino-ism, but it has also taken a little piece of my soul along with it.  I’m vowing to hand-roll at least once a week- we will see how it goes.

For the pasta, I made a typical dough of flour and eggs, to which I added Dutched cocoa and a touch of sugar.  I was worried about the consistency, but it rolled out beautifully and crimped together perfectly to form round discs filled with pastry cream.  I made the pasta around noon and did not boil them until 9pm, so they sat on a parchment-lined sheetpan for many hours with no refrigeration. There were no ill-effects of this, as they boiled up nicely and the texture was perfect.  Since my pasta would not be complete without a sauce, I boiled down Shuksans into a compote with butter, sugar and Grand Marnier.  I put it through a sieve to remove the seeds, then drizzled the sauce over intermittent rounds of ravioli and scoops of ice cream.  This is the part where I would use some holy s3*TTTT expletives to describe the wow-factor of all the complementary flavors and textures in this dish, but I promised not to, so I’m going to have to go stuff my gullet full of sweet sweet bliss aka chocolate ravioli and bid my adieu to you. Until next time, keep it super real out there in the spectacular sunshine.

The last few days have seen a dearth of blogging for yours truly. There are tantalizing recipes coming, and splendid pictures to tempt the eyes, however I am ironing out some technical difficulties.  Your regularly scheduled programming will return before you can say “hand-cut chocolate ravioli filled with Shuksan strawberries in lavender crema pasticcera.” In the meantime, please enjoy this cheeky video mission statement shot by the maddeningly-talented Luuvu Hoang.  Luuvu is a food cinematographer of the highest order. He shoots promos for restaurants, and even videos for Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution, so I was fortunate to enlist his help with this little project.  If you love food and need a video he is definitely the person to talk to.  The still pictures throughout the video were shot by the beautiful and uber-creative people photographer Stephanie Dyane on location at Enciso Family Farms as part of a farm-to-table series.

This mission statement was intended as a submission for Oprah’s “Your OWN Show” video entry contest, however the powers that be over in Oprah-land said it didn’t meet their submission requirements.  I can’t figure out why, and they won’t respond to me with any details, so I’m disappointed since we spent a good deal of time making the video. Oprah herself didn’t blackball me so don’t think I’m starting a war with the most powerful woman in America- I wouldn’t want to wither under the wrath of Her Empire a la James Frey.  In any case, I can use the video as a sort of “about me.”  It will likely wind up in that section of this website. Someday maybe I’ll actually have a show like I propose in the video, but in the meantime I’ll stick to perfecting food I’m hereby dubbing “sustainable-esoteric” and geeking-out on camera for all you lovely people.

*Disclaimer- I am not a rapper, so don’t make fun of my rapping skillz, and I did not choose the outfit worn during the rap section of this video- I would never have put so many “chintz-y” pieces together.

ENJOY, xo, linda

For several years I have had the desire to host a salt-tasting party, I simply lacked the impetus. Until now.  You see, I’ve always felt the salty soiree should have serendipitous timing all around, and that wasn’t possible in days gone by.  For me, everything had to be essential, perfect, balanced.  The food, the guests, the salts, the level of engagement- the whole shebang.  When I finally decided a few months ago that the signs were looking auspicious to host the party, it was a right nice feeling. Right nice indeed, because I’ve been stewing over the concept for so long, there really wasn’t much to settle on.  Except for incorporating some new obsessions in terms of food (can you say sous vide?) and making sure the guest list didn’t go entirely jabberwocky with too many tasters and not enough salt, all the pre-planning was a cinch.

I planned a from-scratch menu deliberately devoid of salt to encourage tasting and pairing. Notables included sous vide custard duck eggs, sliced heirloom tomatoes, no-knead baguettes by Patrick aka best breadbaker in the world, homemade cottage cheese, homemade burrata, a slew of Italian cheeses including a three-milk Robiola and Bra Tenero, jicama, fava beans and honey, sous vide potatoes and beets, and edamame.  Whew, if that wasn’t a salt-less mouthful I don’t know what would be.  I did not forget the dessert category, which consisted of maple caramels, chocolate pavé and triple chocolate truffle tart by Patrick, and four types of ice cream: rhubarb crème fraiche, coffee hazelnut, quadruple chocolate and goat yoghurt maple.

Since many members of the Seattle fooderati scene showed for the 70+ person party, there were countless other notable culinary creations from the likes of Michael Natkin, the man behind Herbivoracious, Jenny Richards of Purplehousedirt, Lorna Yee from The Cookbook Chronicles,  Marc Schermerhorn of the infamous @marcseattle twitter feed, Keren Brown aka Frantic Foodie, and many more.  The lovely and talented Jeanne Sauvage of Fourchickens, brought me a carton of homegrown eggs that I’ve been coddling as though they were babies; I want chickens and ducks so badly I can taste them, but that’s a story for another time.

For the tasting itself, I lined my dining table with over 60 empty vessels and assigned each one a corresponding number.  We created a master list on the Ipad that contained each number, then, when attendees brought salt, they simply chose a vessel, told us the number, and we catalogued each salt into the secret master list.  This way the tasting was truly blind.  I raided my own global collection of salt and filled roughly twenty of the vessels, and once all the guests had proffered their hand-selected salts, we had 63 samples.  I established four categories for the tasting: Best Overall Tasting Salt, Best Blended Salt, Best Pairing-Savory, and Best Pairing-Sweet.  My graphic designer neighbor Cyndy created ballots so folks could cast their votes, and I’ve just tallied the results, which are molto interessante indeed.

Repurposed Aarnio Bubble Chair as Wine Chiller

Before I get to that I want to mention some of the notable salts on display that evening, representing six continents.  Janna Wemmer from Secret Stash Salts brought a dizzying array of her expertly-blended salts, including bloody mary salt, smoked chipotle, and lavender rosemary to name a few.  She is a locally-focused artisan producer of the finest blended salt available in the Pacific Northwest, and her salts should be included in any representational goodie bag of local products.  Local foodie-about-town Traca Savadogo was able to get Mark and Marjorie Fuller of famed restaurant Spring Hill to donate some of Mark’s ancestral Hawaiian red clay sea salt, aged 25 years,  which was one I made sure to sneak a reserve of for later use.  Apparently the aging process sweetens the deal, and I mean that in a literal sense.  The kind folks over at Marx Foods heard about the tasting and donated some perfectly structured Portugese Flor de Sal for our tasting pleasure. I’ve been finishing with this one for a few weeks and am very happy with the crystal structure and depth of character.

Every party is bound to have one jester, and this soiree was not immune.  Our non-food-obsessed neighbor thought it would be quite funny to cart in a salt-lick, which he did with much pride to much snickering.  We had to give it a fair tasting, so we chipped some off the old block and put it in a vessel, much to the chagrin of the poor folks who tasted it.  Oddly, it did receive one vote; some kind soul nominated it in the savory pairing category for its complementary taste with radishes.  Many of the salts travelled here from around the globe, but only a few did so expressly to be tasted at the party.  One such salt was a Waddenzout brought all the way from Amsterdam by Robert and Patrick. I sure hope that one didn’t have any extra Amsterdam-additives in it, if you know what I mean.  Another well-travelled salt came from my amazing friend Emily (Happy Birthday, Baby) who sent over some Korean Bamboo salt from Ulsan, where she is teaching for the year.  Lily and Rodney brought forth a slew of salts from Vancouver BC made by Edible Canada.  Of the twenty or so salts I personally contributed, besides my homemade salt, many of them came from the Portland-based salt boutique The Meadow.  If you think of the most esoteric salt in all the lands and are scratching your head as to where to find it, chances are you’ll find it at The Meadow, which is my go-to salt destination, both online and in the flesh.

Alright, enough of me waxing lyrical about one of the greatest substances on earth- let’s see the results.  The winner in the best overall finishing salt category is the timeless classic, Maldon Sea Salt. It’s crystal structure alone is a thing of marvel; I really believe this salt should be one of the wonders of the world because it comes in the form of little dissolving pyramids. I love other salts equally for different things, but I am not surprised that Maldon unanimously won the grand prize.  There were four salts tied for second place in this category: Trapani Sea Salt, my own sea salt, Secret Stash Salt’s Lavendar Rosemary, and Pangasinan Star.

The winner of best blended salt goes to Black Truffle Sea Salt.  A very close second goes to Secret Stash Salt’s Lavender Rosemary Salt.  Tied for third place here are Evergreen Edible Salt and Wreck Beach Edible Salt.  Best Pairing-Sweet has three salts tied for first place. They are: Murray River Pink Salt, Maldon Sea Salt, and Tahitian Vanilla Salt, all being paired with caramels. In fact, caramels were the favored vehicle with which to sweetly taste salt.  The trickiest category was Best Pairing-Savory.  I think it’s because there was so much food it was difficult to get consistency.  Five salts tied for first place in this category. They are: The Drive Edible on heirloom tomatoes, Tahitian Vanilla on Eggs (maybe these voters had a few glasses of wine?), Sale alle Erbe delle Mar Lunghe (salt with herbs from the long sea) on Patrick’s bread, Haleakala Ruby on heirloom tomatoes, and Murray River on mozzarella and edamame.

these glasses did not stay empty for long

Alright, this was a bloody long-winded post, so I’m going to wrap it up.  It is my goal to showcase the winners in all categories and do some refined tasting with them in a more controlled environment. I’d like to perfect some pairings and suss out which qualities about each of the winning salts made it memorable for tasters.  Expect to see more salt in this space soon, but then, you probably already knew that.  Have a salt-sational day!

all the salts- the morning after

PS- special thanks to Lisa Page Ramey for providing some of the mid-party action shots; there was a lot going on and our camera languished in the corner for much of the evening.

I recently had the great pleasure to receive a review copy of the stunning new cookbook, The Newlywed Kitchen by Lorna Yee and Ali Basye. You don’t have to be a newlywed to enjoy the colorful recipes contained herein, as there really is a little something for everyone inside. The book does a magnificient job demystifying the culinary world. There are snapshots into the lives of esteemed food industry professionals detailing both how their love stories started and how they incorporate a passion for food into marriage.  Each recipe makes two portions, which I love because it’s always easier for me to scale up, yet more often than not I find myself scaling down giant pans of lasagna and the like. The book is diverse in the sense that you’ll find classic comfort food like an award-winning recipe for mac n cheese on the one hand versus Taiwanese beef noodle soup on the other. Just like what every good marriage needs, the book keeps things new, different, spicy and innovative.

I realize I am blessed to live in Seattle and therefore have no problem finding the ingredients needed for some of the more esoteric recipes in the book, which has been a criticism by some. To that point, in this day and age so-called specialty items are available by one-click ordering online and require only a little advance planning. Also, farmer’s markets are springing up across the country and this book can be used as a guideline wherein you may substitute locally-produced ingredients of your choice as I have done in with the pea shoots in place of arugula in the recipe Lorna and I make together in the video below. One final point on sourcing ingredients: as we’ve learned with FOOD Inc and other great educational sources on the unveiling of the true nature of the food industry in this country, supply comes with demand. Consumers have the power to access what they want in this country and I suggest we use this power to make seemingly unusual ingredients more commonplace. Ten years ago almost no one owned a mobile phone. Nowadays you’d be hard pressed to find someone without one. Wouldn’t it be great if we could do the same thing with high-quality, humanely-produced food?

Another aspect of this book I’d like to address is the fact that “newlywed” does not mean “beginner” any more than it means “virgin.” The vast majority of us don’t go into a marriage entirely unskilled in the arts of the bedroom, so I don’t understand why some critics of this book expect that the “newlyweds” reading it should be neophytes in the kitchen as well. Sure, you may require a working knowledge of the difference between a microplaner and microgreens but there’s nothing in the book that is too-difficult for an average home chef to prepare. Back to my bedroom analogy, to spice up a new marriage you’d be better off reading The Kamasutra than Where Do Babies Come From.

The recipes in The Newlywed Kitchen are created from Lorna’s fine palate and exacting standards. To that end, she has taken all the work out of achieving excellence so that you can make the recipe and bask in the inevitable complements you’ll receive serving it. If you really want to impress someone, cook from The Newlywed Kitchen. I could revisit the sexy bedroom analogy yet again here, but I think you get the point without me having to border on vulgarity. Suffice it to say that The Newlywed Kitchen is like an aphrodisiac in the kitchen- use it wisely and use it often and you won’t have any trouble keeping your life spicy. I invited Lorna to give my readers a firsthand look at what it’s like to cook from The Newlywed Kitchen, so I’d like to leave you with this one-take video of Lorna and I preparing Mediterranean-Style Tuna for our hardworking husbands. I hope it gives you an indication of just how easy and delicious the recipes from this book will be in your own kitchen.

I had never been to the Corson Building but have been very happy with head chef Matt Dillon’s other enterprises around Seattle (including the newly revamped Sitka and Spruce) so thought it would be an appropriate setting for our third anniversary.  The actual structure and grounds of the building itself cast a spell on me the moment I arrived, and Jonas and I spent an enchanted half hour sipping an aperitif walking the spaces in marvel.  An Italian family is responsible for the building and it shows in the quality construction. It’s worth going to the Corson Building for the ambience alone.  I was able to snap some photos in the kitchen of our upcoming meal, and it was a good thing too, since once we were seated there was very little opportunity for photography. 

Saturday evening meals are done communally at the Corson building, with essentially four tables that each seat eight people. If you are fortunate you will dine with jovial compatriots as passionate about food and wine as yourselves, or maybe not. We got lucky with most of our table mates, the couple across from us regaled us with tales of the inner workings of being defense attorneys- talk about the underbelly of society! 

The other reason I wouldn’t have been able to photograph the food is that the dishes are served family-style for the entire table of eight, and since we were at the foot end of the table, by the time each platter reached me it was no longer in a terribly photogenic state.  I think this is a brilliant way to set up an evening, and I don’t think concessions or adjustments based on dietary preferences are necessary, however the menu should be posted in advance so diners can choose whether to attend that particular dinner.  When my husband called to make the reservation they basically asked if any food would kill him, which it won’t, though the fact that he doesn’t eat seafood or mushrooms limited him to just two courses of the entire meal, which is significant considering what you’re paying.  Again, I don’t think a chef should make apologies for the menu he creates, and diners should be encouraged to step out on a culinary limb and eat outside their comfort zone, just make the menu available in advance. 

This particular evening the menu consisted of smoked trout with pickled vegetables and fiddlehead ferns, brine-cured local lox with crème fraiche, bresaola with raw beets, fennel and dill as well as horseradish and purslane to start.  Next we moved to a delicate halibut bone broth with steamed halibut and mussels from Taylor’s shellfish along with watercress, and lovage.  It was the standout dish of the night.  Next were soft shell crabs served with porcini mushrooms on a walnut sauce, followed by duck eggs with morels from Cle Elum served with leeks and caraway seeds.  We completed the savory dishes with duck from Stokesberry Farm braised in red wine with fennel, green garlic, asparagus, spring onions, and pea shoots accompanied by duck fat fried potatoes with pork belly cured like pancetta but flat, not rolled.  Dessert was an effervescent sorbet made with goat’s milk yogurt finished with strawberries and two types of shortbread cookies.  I greatly appreciate their use of local producers such as Stokesberry Farms and Taylor’s Shellfish.

We went to the Corson Building on the evening of the soft-opening for Sitka and Spruce, the head chef’s other local restaurant, so naturally he was attending to the details of the opening and not at the Corson Building.  I wish he had been with us instead, although I understood the circumstances.  I think perhaps the food suffered a little in his absence as well.  All of the elements were there, but several of the dishes fell flat upon execution. Sometimes too many ingredients marred the natural elegance of the base flavor in the dish, as was the case with the bresaola. Bresaola is my favorite cured cut of meat, made from beef eye of round.  Perhaps my expectations are too high, given that. The bresaola itself was perfectly cured, perfectly sliced and a thing of beauty. Unfortunately too many ingredients masked its flavor, and it wasn’t just me as I asked around the table if folks knew what meat they were eating and most of them thought it was a very mild pork. Had it been allowed to stand with fewer accoutrements it would have shone brighter.  The stronger dishes were the less complicated ones, such as duck braised in wine, and duck eggs with mushrooms.  I was surprised that the delicate halibut in clear broth was so delightful given that it was much more refined in presentation than everything else. In fact it was the only dish that was served individually to each patron. 

A quick note on the wine: the sommelier is a self-proclaimed Francophile, which is a wonderful thing to be most of the time. I love French wines, almost as much as I love Piedmontese wines, so I was mostly happy with his wine pairings.  I wish there were a bona fide red-only wine pairing, as we opted out of the whites, though instead of adding additional reds to our pours, he simply poured us more glasses of the two reds in his original pairing.  In retrospect I probably would have gotten a bottle or two of something I really loved, then maybe had a glass or two of his selections if they intrigued me.  Since the meal lasts from 6:30 until 10ish (which is long by American standards, though short and early by Italian ones) you could easily bring a few bottles and just pay corkage, sampling from his glass pours when they tickle your fancy. 

On the whole it was a Seattle dining experience I would recommend, though next time I go I will make sure Matt Dillon is in the house and I will attempt to learn the basics of the menu of the evening as well.

The earnestly kind folks over at DeLille invited Salty Seattle to come out and experience the oenological delights featured in their winter release yesterday.  We eagerly accepted the invitation, thrilled to be a part of what promised to be a superlative tasting.  The release featured five wines in total, one white and four reds.  We started with a crisp and healthy pour of the Chaleur Estate 2008 Blanc. It is 62% sauvignon blanc and 38% Semillon.  BIG DISCLAIMER: I typically loathe white wines. I don’t know what it is- I love reds, champagne is my very best friend, and a crisp rosé on a spring or summer day does me right nice. I’ve yet to wrap my palate around a bottle of white, but not for lack of trying. That being said, the Chaleur Estate Blanc was a refreshing lightly fruited nutty glass of rich smooth flavor.  I was very impressed with its ability to keep me drinking despite my prejudice. 

Next up- Harrison Hill 2007. This classic Bordeaux-style blend is predominantly cabernet sauvignon and all I have to say is LOCK UP YOUR DAUGHTERS! After a couple meaty pours of this big, dark old-vine wine I coined it “Dirty Harry” and all hell broke loose from there.  People were clamoring to purchase Dirty Harry- lined up 10 deep to take case after case off the DeLille boys’ hands.  Bewitching, silky and in need of a cellar age or a good long steep in the decanter, this wine is the stuff of legend. 

It is probably not fair that the next pour was the Chaleur Estate 2007 Bordeaux blend.  It is virtually identical in grape composition to the Harrison Hill, though it hails from AVA-of-the-moment Red Mountain as opposed to good ole boy Sunnyside where Dirty Harry is from.  By all counts the Chaleur Estate is a well-balanced, great structured red.  It will stand up to the cellar for quite some time, and will go down in the history of DeLille as a fine, fine wine.  I was just so intrigued to note the vast taste difference in a wine blended by the same hand composed of the same grapes, the only difference being the terroir on which the grapes were grown.  The Chaleur Estate is perhaps more approachable and versatile, but Dirty Harry wins my heart for being the big bad boy who slings me on back of his motorcycle and romances me off into the sunset. 

The next tasting station showcased the Doyenne line, both the 2006 Syrah and the 2007 AIX.  The syrah was a very classic example of the grape, rich and meaty, yet vaguely floral at the same time.  The AIX is delicate and jammy, composed of 61% Syrah, 35% Cab Sauv ant 4% Mourvedre.  I am a big fan of this blend because I love how the Cab really shines through on the finish. It’s almost like you get the best part of both grapes doing what each of them do best, starting with the unctious fruit-forward Syrah and finishing up with the balanced smoothness of Cab.  I see this wine as a great stepping-stone wine, perfect for someone who wants to graduate beyond approachable into something mildly but overly complicated. 

After finishing up the tasting, I begged another half glass off the ever-charming part owner of DeLille, Jay Soloff, and proceeded to get schooled in the ways of the world by Greg Lill, son of the late great Charles Lill- granddaddy of DeLille Cellars.  According to Greg, whenever Charles would travel to a country where the food and drink might have a questionable effect on the digestive system, he had quite an exciting remedy.  He and his wife Lori would hunt down a bottle of the strongest local hooch upon arrival in each exotic locale.  They would then proceeed to take a shot every morning before brushing their teeth, and a follow-up shot right before bed.  This way any questionable bacteria would surely hit the high road, and the Lill’s were left to enjoy their vacation with a lightened conscience and a clear gut. Little stories like these really make a person understand what a truly nuanced character Charles Lill surely was. It’s no wonder he founded the greatest winery in Washington on the advice of his son and son’s friends Chris Upchurch (now winemaker) and Jay Soloff. 

Greg also taught me another clever trick that I will take to my grave- that of marking one’s territory (or should we say terroir?).  I noticed his glass had some sort of clever metallic wine charm hugging its stem, and upon closer inspection realized it’s the simplest and best way possible to lay claim to a glass.  He merely removes the foil from the bottle he’s opening, worries it into an even line, and winds it around the stem of the glass.  His foil happened to be black, but he made one for me that was silver by merely inverting the foil.  I see this idea going viral in the wine world- it’s so genius in its simplicity yet the possibilities are endless for creating various little foil shapes.  I may try to fashion a mini Koala bear just like those ones common 20 or so years ago that would tightly hug whatever you placed them around. 

The DeLille tasting left me with a great taste in my mouth and a strong urge for another glass, which they would only have been too happy to satisfy, but alas, I had a dinner to attend and I didn’t want to pull a drunken harlot move at the restaurant so Jonas and I picked up our case of zealously ordered bottles, made a pre-request for a magnum of D2 (coming out this fall) and went on our merry way.

I’m three days into the United Way Hunger Challenge and I have $59.83 left to spend.  Good thing too, since tonight is Jonas’ birthday, and I have to at least make it somewhat special, which led me down an entirely different train of thought.  We agreed to do this challenge despite having several events (like a birthday) this week that would be tricky to work around.  I recall feeling a bit miffed at the beginning of the week, thinking “couldn’t it have been a different week?” and oscillating over whether to actually go through with it. 

Well midway through the challenge I look back at my three-day-ago self with disdain.  There are people who have to scrape together for kids birthdays, spouses anniversaries, holidays and the like on the budget I was given for a week only they have to do it 365 days a year.  What kind of little princess bitch am I that I mumble and moan feeling sorry for my family when we only have to do this for five days? And we are doing it voluntarily at that? And I’m writing about it and documenting it for my blog, which is an even further luxury?  The bright side is that in three short days I’ve learned to be a humbler person, and to appreciate my lot in life.  In fact, if everyone like me were to live on slightly more moderate means there would surely be more to go around, but that’s a different matter entirely. 

Because I’ve come to this realization, a few other key points struck a chord with me.  Namely that in a way this challenge is an unfair game that’s a bit gauche in some respects.  It’s kind of like how un-PC it really is to play cowboys and Indians considering our nation’s history with Native Americans.  Is it really fair for us armchair enthusiasts to look at something like a limited food budget as a fun game to play for a week, throwing in personal challenges like “let’s make it organic,” and “I won’t support chains”? The fact is, I have nearly $60 left and I have 2.5 days to go, so I know I can do it.  The truth of the fact is that while I’ve managed to source many organic ingredients, I’ve deliberately chosen them based on their value, and for a week, sure it’s ok to eat carrots, onions and potatoes, but to do that every single day of every single week of every single year would really suck.  What if you notice a pastry in the window of a coffee shop that practically screams your name, but day after day you know you can’t go in and get it because it would mean forgoing dinner for your family that night?  Forget the pastry, on a budget like this you can’t even so much as afford a coffee at most retailers in Seattle! 

Another big factor that plays into how I can fairly easily conform to this challenge is time.  I certainly don’t come from an affluent family, but I have a baby at home and while he is young, we’ve decided that my day job can take the back burner to his rearing.  This affords me the luxury of time.  Yes, my bacon is cheaper than any you can buy in a store because I make it myself, but I spend hours curing pork belly then smoking it to produce said bacon. Many folks don’t have that kind of time.  Or an extra wine fridge in which to cure the pork belly.  Or a smoker in which to smoke it.  Sure, half my vegetables and all of my herbs come from my outdoor garden and indoor plant windows, but that again takes time, a green(ish) thumb, and space in which to garden.  Is it really fair of me to preach that I can easily feed my family on $90 a week and so everyone else should too when I know for a fact that most people on the planet don’t have the impetus or desire to roll out and cut their own pasta thus making it cheaper in raw materials, but more expensive when it comes to labor and knowledge? 

That being said, I’m going to stop with the item calculations.  Suffice it to say I’m sticking to the budget, eliminating luxuries like side salads, and focusing on one-dish wonders, namely this gnocchi.  It was delicious for all intents and purposes, and really couldn’t be easier.  I cooked my potatoes in the sous vide machine so they would retain their light texture, mixed with flour, parmigiano reggianno and salt.  I then rolled the potato mixture into tubes, cut into individual pieces of gnocchi, and boiled in salted water until risen, et voila.  I tossed together a makeshift sauce of cream, peas and bacon and there you go, all under budget, pretty enough for a birthday dish, and extremely satisfying.  The satisfaction was made even richer with the realization that our fortunate family has all the things that should really matter on a birthday in spades; namely the pleasure of togetherness, good food, a humble abode, and a sense of security. 

This entire exercise brings to mind the “teach a man to fish…” adage.  I have enough experience with food to recognize a good deal in shallots, chevre, or cannellini beans when I see one, and I know how to combine that screaming deal with pantry staples in order to make a cheap and tasty dinner.  It would be worthwhile to lead market walkthroughs for food stamp folk (yes, Seattle farmer’s markets take food stamps) pointing out great bulk buys that are money-saving measures in the end.  Discuss how to use both the beets and their greens, for instance.  This concept could be refined further by leading basic cooking classes to teach simple flavor combinations and hopefully inspire a love for quality food.  I appreciate the United Way for putting forth this challenge.  It’s opened my eyes to the idea that I can make a difference in the milieu I understand most: the world of food.

Got a multi-day Coq au Vin simmering away in the Le Creuset? Need a quick amuse bouche to wow your guests while you’re putting the finishing touches on the wine-soaked coq? Do I ever have the perfect little niblet for you.  Brace yourselves, I’m rolling around in the quince paste again, people.  I can’t get enough of the stuff ever since we had a bountiful quince harvest here in Washington State last month and I made a batch of paste large enough to feed Tiger Woods’ bevy of buxom blondies.  It really couldn’t be easier to make; just slice some quince, toss it in a pot with water and sugar, and let a hot burner and nature take its course.  After an hour or so you’ll have a thick, creamy paste that you can spread on everything from toast points to tater tots. Well, not really tater tots, I just liked the alliteration, you know my weakness.  Sub the tater tots for taleggio and we’ll all be happy in one big alliterative, tasty bubble of quincey ooze. 

In all seriousness, quince is the new caviar in some social circles, and these little babies will tide your guests over right nice.  Three ingredient appetizers are often spectacular, I think it’s that whole rule of thirds thing.  Just slice some manchego cheese, slather it in a smear of quince paste, dollop a Marcona almond on top and prepare for closed-mouth ooohing and aaaahing from your happy hostees.

 Then you can move on to the coq au vin.  I’m not going to bore you with the details of my tweaked and polished recipe, mainly because I’ve done it so many times I just add by feel rather than measure and I’m not sure I’d be able to write it down.  Suffice it to say that using a nice burgundy is elemental, as is home-smoked bacon.  The most important part is to hunt down a good butcher that will source you a nice big cock.  Please get your minds out of the gutter, folks- that’s cock as in rooster, not as in Ron Jeremy.  You see, cocks are tougher and generally older when butchered than their Holly-Go-Lightly chicky counterparts, and in the case of coq au vin, this is a very good thing.   Look at it this way: you wouldn’t braise for days a hunky tenderloin filet, right? No, you’d opt for something with a bit more grit and sinew like chuck or rump.  Same thing with fowl- since coq au vin is slow and low, it’s nice to have some texture to break down, i.e. a dandy rooster. 

cognac burning off the coq pre vin

The final cornerstone of my coq au vin is sweet and sour cipolline.  Cipolline are those tiny gorgeous little onions you often see at farmer’s markets this time of year.  Chain grocery stores tend to package them up in mesh bundles, call them pearl onions, and charge an arm and a leg for them, but avoid this form factor if you can.  I have always had much better luck with the fresher, loose ones found at the market.  To peel them, cross the tops with a paring knife, blanch them, cool them and pop the onions out of their skins.  To caramelize them all sweet and sour like, grab a frying pan and some patience.  Toss in some red wine, red wine vinegar, honey, hoisin sauce, and butter, and get it nice and toasty.  Once you have a good mix, drop in the cipolline and swirl them about.  Pop a lid on it, turn the flame down, down, down, and give it a half hour to develop flavors.  Remove the lid, turn it up and stir constantly for the final five minutes to develop a nice caramel crust on the outside of your onions.  Add this good stuff to your now-tender old rooster and serve the whole mess over homemade egg noodles and just try to tell me you are not in foodie heaven. 

One final note: For the next five days I will be participating in the United Way’s Hunger Action Week challenge.  What this means for me and my family is that we have $18 per day to spend on breakfast, lunch and dinner.  This amount is determined based on the monetary value of aid we would receive if we were using food stamps as a family of three.  I am a self-proclaimed excessivist, so this will be pretty tough.  Watch this space to hear how I’m managing to feed my brood on 18 bucks each day, and if you’re interested in taking the challenge along with me you can sign up here.

When your birthday is three days before Christmas and you grow up in the United States, there is very little you can do to separate the day from the ever-eclipsing holiday mayhem.  There is the inevitable dual gifting you’ve heard about, I’m sure, coupled with an incessant round of holiday parties that tend to fall on your birthday itself, negating any possibility of a romantic birthday dinner sans red and green cheer.  I’ve always been ok with this though, preferring to look at it as merely a challenge to make my party the party of the season- the one people still feel the hungover effects of come Christmas morning.  When I was in my more “free-spirited” phase, the parties would be laced with glow sticks and body paints with all manner of eclectic music punctuating the reverberating cacophony.  The problem with those parties lie in the fact that no one would really remember anything about them either during or afterward, much less the fact that it was my birthday.  Now that I’ve got a burgeoning reputation as a social maven to uphold, a bit more organization and thought goes into planning each fete, and this year was no exception.

I went with a Mad Men theme, if you haven’t seen the show you ought to.  It’s set in the early 1960’s and filled with a cast of advertising execs on Madison Avenue and their wives/mistresses.  I chose the period for the attire and cuisine, thinking it would be easy and fun to transport ourselves into that world. I didn’t bargain on the fact that everyone would really get into the attitude as well, which is what made it a resounding success.  As many of you remember and some of you can imagine, a major focus is on the cocktails- drinking on the job from morning ‘til night is de rigueur a la Mad Men.  I so wanted to find a seven or eight year old to bartend, since kids back then would frequently mix drinks for their parents, but I couldn’t get anyone to volunteer their child, despite the major résumé-building potential!  Instead my dear husband Jonas transformed himself into a downright dandy bartender adopting the persona of a confident boss mixing up a bourbon concoction for a coworker before a “meeting.” 

I wanted my food and drink to match what likely would have been served back in the day so I went the class and sophistication route (ha ha) with homemade cheese balls, bonbons, rumaki, Swedish meatballs, a Roquefort molded salad mousse, deviled duck eggs, and Waldorf salad. 

We served cocktails using drinks from clever product placements from the show, such as Stolichnaya vodka, Tanqueray gin, RC cola and Heineken beer. 

The biggest stretch for me in terms of flexing my culinary chops was wrapping my mind (and my homemade bacon) around rumaki.  Ever had it? It’s a funky little appetizer of mock-Polynesian origin that involves a marinated chicken or duck liver, a touch of water chestnut, and a bacon-wrapped exterior.  When I saw an episode of Mad Men in which the stunning protagonista Betty Draper serves rumaki at a dinner party, I knew I had to add it to the list. 

I used duck livers because I thought they’d be slightly less mushy than those of chicken, but in the end I think either would provide a similar texture.  Next time I think I’d go all out and just use fois gras, dispensing with duck and chicken altogether and upping the ante with some lovingly lavishly prepared goose goodness.  The water chestnuts I used were fresh not canned, and wow does that make a difference!  I will not soon return to canned water chestnuts for anything. They provided a welcome crunch to the otherwise dubiously gooey little package.  I was surprised when I put them out and they disappeared within minutes to the sound of much oohing and aaahing- I even fully disclosed their contents on a written menu for guests information. Guess liver doesn’t have the stigma it did when I was a child any longer- cheers to the resurgence of organ meats- wait, really?

When we have winter parties we cannot utilize our exterior deck spaces as much, so we kept the number to around 45 guests so that it wouldn’t be too crowded, and put the word out that there would be a bouncer policing attire at the door.  Everyone dressed to the nines, and copped sassy attitudes to boot, so it made for some fab photos.

  I made the mistake of picking up several dresses that would have worked stylistically in the weeks before the party, so the only solution for me was multiple outfit changes.  I started in a vintage Lilly Ann cream silk brocade mod little number that I’ve had in my closet for years, with a midriff-tied apron sheathing up my hostess package.  I went to the salon earlier in the day for a beehive straight out of the “Rome” episode- they literally really set me up, as it lasted for days! 

Mid-soiree I changed into a floor-length cascading Kelly green gown and ditched the apron- time to get down to partying post-aperitivo hour.  I found a brand new bullet bra from the 1960’s that was deadstock on ebay, and the green dress was cut exactly so that the conical pointiness of the bra underneath showed through.  I’ve always loved the clothes from the early 60’s, but never understood that pointy bra thing, though it was pretty fun to rock one for the evening. 

 The peanut butter cream cheese bonbons came out about this time- this is one simple recipe I’m simply smitten with, and  I came up with it in a super jiffy too.  I’ll sign off with it if you’re interested- what can be more romantic that bonbons, anyway? There is a bonbon mention in Mad Men when smokin’ head secretary Joan mentions to her beau that she is happy doing some extra work around the office and he tells her instead that she should be at home eating bonbons; oh the days of the early sexual revolution! 

As the night progressed I decided to get back into office mode and do a silk-wool skirt suit, but the evening twist came with wearing it sans camisole, so the bullet bra really peaked through.  The fuchsia skirt suit is by the new and amazing sister design team Rodarte, but cut so period perfect I couldn’t resist. 

 Candy cigarettes were the perfect snack to complement this look, since everyone smokes up a storm in Mad Men, but of course I wasn’t going to go so far as to allow it in the house for the evening.  I found an amazing box of 20 packs of old-school candy cigarettes on ebay, and they worked perfectly to alleviate the need for the real deal, I only wish they would work so well to assuage the needs of the few remaining actual smokers I know. 

There may have been a couple of outfit changes after that, and they may have taken on a bit of a naughty tone, but a lady never discusses these things in public, right? Wasn’t the credo du jour back in the day deny deny deny? Let’s just say the party was such a success some folks spent the night rather than drive home and I don’t think many of us fell into bed until the break of day approached.  Happy bonbon-making, ciao! 

Peanut butter cream cheese bonbons

• 1 7 oz pkg Philadelphia cream cheese, softened
• ½ cup creamy peanut butter
• ¼ c confectioners’ sugar
• 8 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate

1.  Whip the cream cheese and peanut butter in bowl of a standing mixer until well-combined.  Add the sugar, and whip until soft peaks form.  Freeze the mixture for 20 minutes.  Using moistened hands, form teaspoon-sized balls from the cream cheese mixture, refreezing as necessary to keep from being to tacky to form.  Freeze the formed balls on a sheetpan for at least a half hour. 
2. Melt chocolate in a double boiler.  Slide a handle into each ball using coffee straws or toothpics.  Lifting from the straw, dip each ball into melted chocolate, place on sheetpan lined with wax paper, and once you’ve dipped all the balls, refreeze.  20 minutes prior to serving, remove the bonbons from the freezer.  Set on serving platter and serve cold.