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10 Legs in the Kitchen

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10 Legs in the Kitchen

Category Archives: Reviews

Club Paris: Filet Mignon – the best damn steak I’ve ever had

25 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by Stacey Bender in Reviews, the kitchen

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

cooking steak, pickled onions, roasted tomatoes

PS3_steak cooked 2.jpg

As you all must have guessed by now, I grew up in Anchorage, Alaska, where forty years ago still existed the myth that everyone was an Eskimo, ate whale blubber, owned a team of sled dogs and lived in an igloo.

Seriously, it was the number one question other children asked of me when my family and I vacationed in Hawaii or California.

“Do you live in an igloo?”

I was a little annoyed at their ignorance, but should probably have been more appalled at what they weren’t being taught in school.

There was not much of a downtown, not many noteworthy restaurants and if you wanted the latest in clothing or music you had to get it from the “Lower 48”.

We were always a few months behind the top 40’s on the radio and unless you considered plaid flannel or down parka’s a fashion statement, Alaska was certainly not the instigator of new trends.  Yet amazing how flannel and puffy jackets have made their way into our fashion “sense”?

Even so, there were a few restaurants that I came to love as a child and still cherish in memory as an adult.  The Lucky Wishbone, of course (that goes without say)!  Clinkendaggers, Mauzi’s, Sorrento’s, and the elusive Double Musky Inn (which I never ate at as a kid but imagined it to be the fancy place with a dark, moody interior, soft candle light and super good food; my imagination couldn’t have been more inaccurate, as I learned as an adult when I finally went).

Ahhhh, and then there was Paris!  Club Paris, that is.

Club Paris is a hole in the wall in the best sense, a 1950’s wood-paneled little place that introduced me to my first filet mignon, prime cut.

I remember my first visit; I went with my best friend’s family and was blown away by the flavor and texture of that steak.

That three inch high, perfectly cut, cooked and prepared piece of beef that tenderly slid into my mouth and melted like butter against my tongue.

The outside was brown-crusted but inside was bloody, juicy and rare.

Up until then I don’t think I had ever bitten into anything so incredible.

Although I remember the atmosphere being dark and smokey (and certainly smoke-filled it was at the time), feeling almost foreign to the types of places I frequented with my own family; I really can’t picture anything in my mind other than the actual piece of beef sitting on my plate and the flavor that lingers on my palette, even to this day.

I am not sure why I never went back, over so many visits, over so many years.

I wanted to.  I meant to.  I didn’t…

Until last year.  December 20, 2017 to be exact.

Mom took Tom and I to lunch after she and I received a much appreciated massage from a place located across the street.  It was still dark, but no longer smokey.

It had not ever been remodeled, I suspect.

Our waitress was likely the same one I had the first time I ate there 35 years prior!  She was not one to sugar-coat anything and was impatient with extraneous words.  Needless to say, I went from being called, “Hon” to not, in a hurry.

I got the steak sandwich.

It was basically a filet mignon with a slice of toast cut into a triangle set on the side, per our server’s recommendation, and was she right!

Yum!  This was the steak I remembered.  Three inches high, seared to perfection, dark crust and blood-rare inside.

I have never been to France, but, I will always have Club Paris!

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Pickled onion, courtesy of Irma Cardona-Edwards Enterprises International DBA, Irma Inc

FILET MIGNON WITH PICKLED ONION AND ROASTED TOMATO

I like a rare steak.  Very rare.  You can cook yours a little longer if you like, but I am going to keep mine rare.

My sister-in-law, Irma, has an impressive cellar closet filled with homemade pickled veg in her Alaskan kitchen.  She is also in the process of making her own wine.  I added her pickled onions to the steaks as an after thought, but one that worked out really well.  It was a nice accompaniment to the lushness of the steak.  Soon you will be able to buy them from Irma Inc (we hope) but until then, she offered to write up the recipe for you to try at home…stay tuned…I will be posting it soon.

INGREDIENTS

(2) 6-8oz center-cut prime filets of beef tenderloin, 2-3″ thick
1/2 tsp kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Grape seed oil for cooking the steak
2 TB unsalted butter
1 tsp chopped garlic

2 Kurabata tomatoes (or other smallish variety)
2 cloves garlic, peeled, left whole
Olive oil to drizzle on tomatoes, plus salt and pepper to taste

2 medium pickled onions (recipe to follow…soon)

PREPARE

1. Season the steak with salt and pepper at least an hour before cooking or earlier in the day.  They will want to rest outside of the fridge an hour before they are cooked.

2. Preheat the oven to 350 F

3. Cut a small circle of the core stem away from the top of each tomato and stuff in a garlic clove.  Season with salt, pepper and a drizzle of oil.

4. Roast the tomatoes for approximately 30 minutes, until tender and wrinkled but still plump with juices.  Set aside in a warming drawer until ready to serve.

5. Melt the butter with the garlic.

6. Heat a cast iron skillet until it is very hot.  Add a little grape seed oil and as soon as it is hot enough to rolling smoothly across the pan, add the filets.  Don’t move them for 2-5 minutes, keeping at a medium-high heat.

7. Once the bottom is nicely browned (which you can see by looking at the side), turn the filets over and let cook until another lovely crust forms.  This might be a total of 7-10 minutes.  Test by inserting a meat thermometer into the side horizontally.  Look for a temperature of 120-130F for rare and 135-140F for medium-rare.  Don’t forget that once you remove it from the heat, it will continue to cook while it rests.

8. Immediately pour over the melted butter and garlic, let it sizzle, then transfer it to a plate, along with the juices, to rest for a few minutes while getting the rest of the dinner plated.

TO SERVE:

On warm plates, place one roasted tomato and one filet.  Put one pickled onion on top of each filet, holding it in with a decorative pick (if desired).

Pour the steak juices over and if you like, drizzle each plate with some aged balsamic, or just the pan juices work too.

It would also be nice to roast some asparagus alongside during the second half of cooking the steak (after it is turned) and perhaps a few halved, roasted potatoes would serve well alongside too.

If you prefer, just toast some white bread, spread it with garlic butter and reserve your greens for a salad with blue cheese dressing instead.

There are no poor choices here.  As long as you cook a good steak!

PS_2

Where’s the beef?

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And in case you didn’t notice last week….  Hello!!!

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Yes, I’m talking to you!

 

Sweet Evolution

10 Saturday Sep 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in Reviews, the kitchen

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

healthy dessert, Marian Burros Plum Torte, Oru kayak

2

No, I’m not talking Darwin’s Theory stuff here but rather plum torte evolution; yet, evolution nonetheless.  A recipe.  A quite famous (and DEMANDED) recipe!  Not mine but one published by Marian Burros in The New York Times, circa 1983.

“It”, as will it be referred to from here (the plum torte recipe) started out as an idea (I speculate) and turned into an essential, a must have recipe!

“It”, became beloved and popular, for it’s spectacularnous (not technically a word, I know, but I do like to make up words, or Stacey-isms as Tom would call it) and yearned for as a nod to the end of Summer and the beginning of Fall.

“It”, was coveted and found to be genius!  Which, genius it was really, and still is (as all genius things are, which makes them, well, genius).

But…times move onward and forward.  As did “The New York Times”, who published this recipe for plum torte from Marian Burros every year beginning in 1983 and trying to end in 1989 when they decided to (gasp…) quit publishing “It”.  They dared to quit publishing said recipe for plum torte, telling readers that they best cut it out, laminate it and hang it on their fridge because if they lost it, they were on their own.  Ha!

I had a hard copy of the recipe folded and tucked into one of my journals for years.  It had stains and crumples and batter caked onto it’s face.

I have lost it, and found it, and lost it again.  But then, I never laminated it, nor put it on my fridge.

Now, I Google to find it each year.  How’s that for evolution?  Google that!  What would we do without the internet?!

If you are a person who reads about food, loves to think about and cook food, types in searches on Google about food, come plum season, you too, my friend, are sure to have read about the recipe here, or perhaps here. No?!!!! 

This torte is really a buttery (plum) cake.  It is as simple in its’ ingredients as it is simple in its’ steps for making. The plums transform from their raw, unassuming state into a puddle of inky jam pillowed by the buttery batter.  Mingled with cinnamon and sugar, they become fast friends at any dinner/breakfast or lunch party.

This year, as we were visiting my in-laws, at their Washington “cabin” in Hoodsport, sporting a bag of very ripe Italian plums from the farm down the road (our fave Hunter Farms), among other edibles, and I thought again about this (in)famous plum torte.

When we departed, I left my Mother-in-law, Lois, with the bag of plums, which were still taking up space in the fridge.  I also sent a link to the story, with recipe, for the famous plum torte.  On the way home (a 2 1/2 hour drive), I looked up the story again, to read for myself (having been absent on it for a few years).  This time, I also read an updated article from the Eating Well section of The New York Times published September 4, 1991.  It talks of others trying to make it healthier, but failing.  Not failing so much, as for it just not being the same.

In my young(er) years, I gave no thought to healthy eating.  More butter, meat, and sweets — bring it on!  Carbohydrate was not even part of my vocabulary, let alone something I felt should be cut out.  Whole grains were for hippies and tree huggers; I was completely content with my Wonder Bread, Ritz crackers and Nabisco Nilla Wafers.    Oh you know what I’m talking’ about.

Today, food production has become different as accessibility to new, and awareness of, better ingredients become more prevalent.  Thankfully, I have long ago, ditched Wonder Bread for artisan breads; sometimes whole grain, sometimes not.  I am not a stickler about eating only the healthiest things, but especially when I bake things, I am more mindful of the ingredients that I put into them.  I almost exclusively use whole wheat pastry flour.  Yes, it is slightly different, but it too produces a lovely cake.

I could go on…but I won’t.

At least for not too long.  I promise!

In the Eating Well article, ideas on change were thrown here and there.  Whole wheat.  Less butter.  Gaaasp…margarine instead.  Egg whites, less yolk.  Bananas!  No, seriously, bananas?!  Granted, I’ve talked about using avocado instead of butter before (much to Tom’s chagrin), but even that would not do here.

How can we do this better?   Perhaps we can and perhaps we can’t?  But we can do it healthier.  Of this I am sure!

I have done it, in-fact.  Yes, I have!  As I am sure, so have half of you.  The original recipe was genius.  It allowed many of us to produce a dessert so mind-blowingly good with such little effort that I would speculate, in the months of September and October, at least 20-30% of the Italian plums grown in the United States, still go into the original recipe, or some version there-of.

This healthier version might not be the same.  I am sure it tastes different.  It does, however, taste damn good!  Good to be eating fresh fruit good; even if the fruit has been cooked.  Butter is there, which makes it better and true to the roots.  Less butter.  More roots (from the grass from which the cows ate).  The sugar is unrefined and from coconuts.  Less sugar, more (plum) flavor, sweet!  

I am still a big fan of the Original.  I will never claim this is better.  But it is better for you and it tastes just as good (to me).  The texture is more crumbly, nuttier and more dense.  It has you thinking you are in Italy, sitting street-side, sipping wine in a lovely cafe after sketching some bridge, street or building in your tattered book.  Or writing endlessly about food in your journal.

5

Plum Torte (Adapted from Marian Burros version; updated for today’s healthier, modern lifestyle)

Okay Suzanne (AKA, Pug in the Kitchen), this one’s for you.  A healthy dessert we can all get behind, but only for the months of August and September, and perhaps part of October (because that is when the plums are available).  Enjoy for breakfast or dessert; even a mid-day snack or coffee break.  So many ways to enjoy this.  So little time.  Delightfully ripe plums available now in Farmer’s Markets and grocery stores (most) everywhere (at least in the United States).  Make this torte (cake) now and you will be making it forever more.  It will be a go-to thing, I’m sure!

INGREDIENTS

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour (all purpose if you stick to the original)
1 tsp baking powder
A pinch of kosher salt
1/2 cup unrefined coconut sugar (obviously cane sugar works too, but then itwill not have that “modern healthy lifestyle” vibe nor will it have the depth of nuttiness; unrefined white sugar will be more like the original but then, use 1 cup).
1 stick (1/2 cup) grass fed, unsalted butter, softened to room temperature (grass-fed cows produce healthier butter); you can use regular butter however.
20 ripe, Italian plums, cut in half, pits removed and discarded.  The original recipe calls for 24 but in the pan I use, I can’t squeeze them in.  This seems like a lot, but go with it because the results speak for themself.
a little lemon juice
1 *TB cinnamon  + a little sugar (to sprinkle over)

* the recipe published in the NYT had a mis-print calling for 1 TB cinnamon when in fact, it should have been 1 tsp. As someone who doesn’t often measure cinnamon anyway, I would naturally have put in closer to 1 TB. Do what feels right to you.

plums

PREP

I started, this year, by screwing up the first step.  Alas, it turned out nonetheless!  I accidentally put the sugar in with the flour, salt and baking powder.  It is suppose to be creamed into the butter.

Whoops.

What I did to undo?  I took a handful of the flour mixture and added that to the butter, whipped it to creamy, then added in the rest of the flour mixture, followed by the eggs.

What you should actually do to prep:

In a smaller bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder and salt.

In a larger bowl, cream the butter and sugar with a mixer.

Beat the flour mix into the butter mix.

Transfer batter to a buttered and floured spring-form pan (10″ to 11″ diameter).  If you don’t have one, use a regular cake pan (as I did; to remove, I just tipped over like a cake and invert).

raw batter

Bake, in a pre-heated, 350-degree oven, for 1 hour, or until a toothpick comes away clean.

Serve with a dollop of crème fraîche or a slice of creamy cheese.

g-awake-b-asleep

 Buddy:  Sugar plum fairies dance in my head…                                                                                   Ginger:  Did someone say cheese?  I like cheese!  I like solid ground too.

 

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Buddy:  Why did you wake me? I want some plum cake.                                                                            Ginger:  You are weird to like plums, mangos are better.                                                                    Buddy:  Am I dreaming?  I feel like we should be floating.

 

gb-on-the-water

Off we go!

Speed Dating

04 Sunday Sep 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in Reviews

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Clarksburg Wine Co., Du Vigne Winery, Elevation Ten Winery, Foodista, International Food Blogger's Conference 2016, Jackson Catering & Events, Muddy Boot Wine, The Old Sugar Mill, Three Wine Company

signs

What comes to mind when I say speed dating?

I will wait for a moment while you conjure up your thoughts!

I bet you are picturing a row of tables, in a dimly lit room, all lined with desperate people quickly throwing out their best pitch?  Perhaps nervously tugging at their hair?  Twitching their glasses or rhythmically tapping their feet on the ground under the table?  A little sweat seeping out from beneath their brow perhaps, or more likely, from under their pits?

Am I right?

Us too…until we went to the Old Sugar Mill for an excursion during the International Food Bloggers Conference (IFBC) in Sacramento this Summer.

exterior

Think wine tasting meets speed dating.  This is the good stuff!

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Instead of desperate suitors, the dates were knowledgable winemakers that gave a 10-minute low-down on their wine, their style and their passion for the business, all as we were sitting at an intimate table with a handful of other conference attendees, pairing each of their wine selections with an amazing food taste (which was craftfully done by Jackson Catering).  Then the bell rang for the next winemaker to come to our table…

You must also envision the room.

A large, high-ceiling space with concrete floors and historical structure, re-purposed from an old beet sugar mill production plant into a space that romantically encapsulates a feeling of celebration, good taste and friends.

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As our celebration came to a close though, and the others piled back onto the bus, Tom and I stayed behind (because we drove, this time).

Since the winemakers were gracious enough to come to us during lunch, it was our turn to go to them; we decided to check out their wine tasting rooms.  Needless to say, we spent the rest of the afternoon at the Old Sugar Mill and signed up for four wine clubs (whoopsie…).

The Old Sugar Mill is owned by Clarksburg Wine, a sponsor of the IFBC this year.  When we made it past the owners of “Muddy Boot” (a guest winery without a tasting room that has a great story and impressive wine), and moved on from the tasting rooms of Elevation Ten, followed by Due Vigne, we came to Clarksburg’s space.  It was big fun.  I started to feel like we were visiting the set of “Sweet Home Alabama”, minus the hound dog and the drama (we did buy a dog bed though), before even anteing up to the bar!

Lucky for us, we found a friend.  His name was “D” (literally).  As a proud wine maker himself, he was happy to share knowledge about each glass we drank and beyond to the place from which it came.  We learned a lot from D, who harkened from TN (instead of AL) and made his way to CA thanks to the US military.  Thank you!

As a wedding event started to infiltrate the halls, we knew it was time to visit one last tasting room, Three Winery (also a sponsor of the IFBC event), before freshening up back at the room to attend the “Taste of Sacramento” and walk through the “gift suite”!!!  Wow, what a great showing of all Sacramento has to offer!  Who knew?

Cheers!!!…and join us next year?  Please.

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THE FOOD

Wine Country Cheese & Charcuterie Plate with House-Marinated Vegetables, Sopprasseta, Coppa, Proscuitto, Salami (and local + premium) Cheeses, Fresh Fruit & Parmesan Crostinis

Caprese Salad (the sweetest and most succulent) Heirloom Tomatoes, (creamy, fresh) Burrata & Buffalo Mozzarella, (freshly made) Basil Pesto with drizzles of Extra Virgin Olive Oil, Sea Salt & Fresh-Cracked Pepper

(Juicy, rare) Carved New York Loin with Creamy Horseradish

Citrus Achiote Marinated + Grilled (tender) Chicken with (local, ripe) Summer Fruit Salsa 

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WINE TASTING NOTES

Elevation Ten Winery:  

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Poured at the wine tasting event but see below for a few others we tried in the tasting room.

Brut Sparkling Wine, methods champenoise ($31, Heldsburg, CA) – This is a lovely sparkly to kick-off a Sunday brunch, to open for a celebration or to open, just because…!  Tom and I like the refreshing rose color, soft palette and drinkable texture.  Today, as I write this, it will be paired with my waffles + a side of bacon and nectarines.  We will definitely be ordering more.  It was delicious and substantial.

Festivo ($24, Placerville, CA) – The name comes from sangria, as in, this is good to use in making sangria.  I think it would make fine sangria but to us, it is best drank as is, next to a table full of tapas or enjoyed alongside a good burger!  Bight, drinkable and deep… it will lighten any mood.  Petite Sirah and Black Muscat tango nicely within.

Muddy Boot Wine:

muddy boot

There’s a story about this winery that won us over.  Three friends (two are twins) read the rest here.

2015 Chenin Blanc (Clarksburg, CA) – Not typically a fan of this grape, Tom and I were both sold at its complex richness of peach and melon, not overly sweet and very drinkable on a hot day (or any day, really). Pair this with a grilled fish, an antipasto of roasted peppers, procuitto and figs or a spicy meal inspired from Thailand or India.

2013 Red Wine (Clarksburg, CA) – This is jammy!  We like Jam.  You can absolutely taste the oak in this and it is 100% barrel aged.  We are loving it with our fresh-off-the-grill ribs.

Three Wine Company:

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three

This winery comes from the Cline family.

2011 Carignane ($32, Contra Costa County, CA) – This is a particularly beautiful blend of  87% Carignane, Petite Sirah, Zinfandel and Mataro. Rich fruit, ripe tannins with low sugar make this a wine that pairs well with red meat but is also drinkable on its’ own.

2012 Old Vines Rosé ($18, Contra Costa County, CA) – With flavors of cherry and pomegranate, this complex blend is made from Zinfandel, Mataro and Carignane grapes. Enjoy it year-round with grilled salmon, cherry-glazed pork loin, a simple cheese plate or in a picnic basket.

Due Vigne Winery:

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A classy tasting room with staff who believe in the product; we believe too!  Thanks, Richard.

du vigne bottle

Join the Club!

2014 Barbera ($50, wine club members only – La Collina II5, El Dorado County, CA) – Bright fruit and soft tannins make this a perfect pairing for authentic pasta; long-cooked and tangily simmered –  bolognese per chance?

2013 Dolcetta ($26, El Dorado County) – If you aren’t a wine club member, you can drink this with that bolognese!  It is well structured with deep red fruits such as cherries and cranberries.  Big in the mouth but soft on the finish.

Clarksburg Wine Co.:

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Our man D, who really knows his wine!

 

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2012 Chenin Blanc Viognier ($18, Clarksburg, CA) – This is a complex white, tropical and passionate; perhaps on the beach under a coconut tree at sunset? The mineral quality is light but finishes creamy and bright with a citrus tone.  Thanks D, for selling us your last two bottles!

2014 Delta Rouge ($20, Clarksburg, CA) – A propietal blend of Syrah, Cabernet and Merlot, this luscious, berry forward wine is unpretentious and fun.  Think party, picnic or hay ride.  Its’ firm structure holds up well and does not require food (although food is always recommended!)

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Don’t worry Christine, I’ll be at class on Friday…maybe!

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Mom and Dad went to California but at least they brought us back a bed instead of t-shirts!

The “Family” game

06 Saturday Aug 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, Reviews

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

American Lamb Board, IFBC 2016, King Kabob food truck, Yolo Brewery

PS_rules for cover

This comes from Sacramento* where Tom and I are currently traveling to Dixon, CA, on a bus, filled with fellow food bloggers; destination unknown, to us anyways (and sponsored by the American Lamb Board).  My husband is sitting next to me and I just consumed a full sandwich filled with smoky slices of lamb; it was delicious!  I also ate the potato salad, all of it, and some of Tom’s.  I’m a little crazy about potato salad, but perhaps not the best idea at the beginning of a bus ride in the country.  I won’t go into that, but did I mention I am claustrophobic?  I certainly am now!   We are sitting in traffic, sun beating in, 101-degrees outside and I am listening to the cackle of many, many chatty voices, which are making me slightly insane!  I do see there is a restroom located in the back of the bus, conveniently, one row behind us.  I keep eyeing it over my shoulder, plotting my path, just-in-case.  I’ve been recently reminded that I can get car sick while riding in the back seat and am flashing back to my childhood.  I am adamently questioning our decision to leave the rental car parked at the hotel?!

* Well, it would have if I posted this last week when it was written, oops!

To keep my mind occupied (and my stomach, um, unaware), I am reminiscing the day leading up to this where we had hiked in the morning, sat in a creek (because it was again over 100-degrees), boated on Lake Wildwood, and best of all, after going my whole life unaware it existed, finally learned Zion Check, the “Family” game.

Tom and I are attending the International Food Bloggers Conference (IFBC) again, but this year it’s earlier in the year and in Sacramento, which turns out, is halfway between Alamo (no, not that Alamo) and Lake Wildwood.  The significance of that geographic trivia has to do with our motivation for attending this year’s conference (in addition of course, to the lure of the farm-to-fork culture of the area and the generous sponsors who will be there, providing stellar food, drinks and interesting + important facts, as usual).

My (our) main motivation however, was that my cousin Julie (you might remember her from this…), lives in the East Bay Area and has a vacation home in the Sierra Nevada foothills, where we have just spent the last several days.  Julie is the daughter of my birth Mom’s twin sister.  We had sadly not spent but a couple short times together since we were quite young, but apparently had spent a great deal more time together than either of us realized when we were young (as documented by the numerous photo albums that we finally got through, and I mean that in a good sense).

As we arrived at their home, greeted suspiciously, by their sweet dog Angela (AKA, Angie) and (slightly) less suspiciously by her husband Joe; Julie whisked us inside exclaiming how while we were here, we needed to look through old photo albums and play the “Family” game.  Growing up at my house in Alaska, we most definitely played games.  We played Cribbage, Gin Rummy and such.  Monopoly, Survive, Battleship, Scrabble and Yahtzee.  Old Maid, Dominos, Risk.  We played Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Parcheesi, Hearts and Go Fish.  The list goes on.  But not once though, had we played Zion Check, which Julie enthusiastically pointed out, we would be playing this trip.

PS angie

Ms. Angie on lookout at the bow.

The first night we popped open a bottle of champagne and caught up.  Then we loaded onto their boat with a platter of cheese and our cocktails to set off on a sunset cruise around the lake.  After we got back and finished a late dinner, we all agreed that the next day, Tom and I would learn the “Family” game. The next day, after breakfast on the deck, we decided instead, to escape the forecasted heat by driving 90 minutes northeast to Lake Tahoe, where we parked ourselves at a shaded table, under a tree by the lake, to have cocktails and eat crab.  In Nevada (because we can).  That was a good plan.  Did I mention the temperature had reached 106-degrees that day?

Time was running out and we hit our last day at the lake, no more knowledgable about how to play the “Family” game than we had been any day prior.  We did learn that Julie had been playing it for forty years and playing it with Joe for twenty-three of them. With no breakfast preluding, we kick-started our last full day with a hike.  It was invigorating!  It was hot!  Damn hot (but bonus!) it allowed us to sit in a running river, yay!  Upon our return, I happily watched Joe make a large breakfast, hungrily ate said large breakfast, showered (the hot stink away) and proceeded to look through many nostalgic photos.  It was (now) the hottest part of the day, so we finally sat downstairs (the lake beckoning beyond the windows, but from air conditioned comfort) at the poker table to play the “Family” game.

This was a card game, it turns out!  Perhaps best described as Gin Rummy meets Poker.  Card play can be as ruthless…and tricky but fun. I could tell from the start that this would be no exception.  We all antied up our 55 cents (no pennies accepted) and each got our 11 poker chips in return.

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Cool hand Luke!

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Not our tally sheet, but a history lesson.  Julie often wins.

As Julie wrote out our “contract” (what the heckfire?!), I could immediately tell Tom was getting nervous that this game, might be over his head (he is not a card player as such, but sneakily good and catching on and beating those well-versed).

Well, I have digressed, so, to make a short story less long, I will go back to the bus ride and let you know that it ended just fine (and stomach intact).  As you know, it started a little sketchy.  The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere and we were concerned there might be a bit of walking involved, through cows and sheep and sunflowers, no cool air, hot sun pounding down; I did spy a cute sight though, out the window was a sweet girl and her father on a bundle of hay.

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Now that’s a farm girl!

Turns out we were meant to go on a hayride.  How fun, if it was not so damn hot!  Our guide, Ryan (and daughter Macayla) thought the same thing, so we toured the farm in a bus.  Ryan’s a 5th generation farmer and his family supplies meat to Superior Farm, which, as luck would have it, I do buy a lot of my lamb from.  I have good taste!

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…and he has a cute daughter!

Our final destination turned out to be Yolo Brewery which makes exceptional beer.  I have that on good authority because I tasted them all!  Tom and I were particular fans of the Orange Blossom Blonde (refreshing for the hot weather) and the Coconut Porter (surprisingly delicious!  It was good just by itself but would make a good pairing with chocolate or as a replacement for dessert).

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To be truthful, Tom and I went a little bit rogue.  We did, hard to believe, we know!  Rule breakers.  It was so hot and we all had waited around for so long to understand what we were doing there (in the brewery) besides drinking beer, that is (kudos to Paige (the bartender who spent a short stint in Seattle before succumbing to the gray winters and heading back home) to kick the taps off on her own accord), that Tom and I opted to sit outside under the misters.  Yes, I know this was rude.

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However, not only were we full, we were hot.  The water misters, in hot, fresh air, sounded good.  Stuffed in a warehouse corner, watching a lamb be butchered sounded, not good, for me (us).  There you go; we sometimes roll like that.

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Speaking of rolling…

As we reluctantly (did I say it was hot?!) stuffed our very full faces with hallava, from the King Kabob food truck parked outside the brewery (more treats sponsored by the American Lamb Board) we decided we could stuff in some more (because they were GREAT)!!!  Exceptional in fact.  Now Tom and I were on our second one.

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I can’t give you a pretty picture of the food because it was consumed quickly!

I strongly felt the need to go talk to the Man!  Two Men as it were, father and son, to let them know how much we enjoyed their food.  If you recall, I am a bit particular (and may I remind you, already full), so coming from me, I feel there should be put an extra emphasis on how exceptional this lamb dish was!

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I swear the guys are in there actually talking to me.

As I got to talking to the Owner, Rasul and his son John, I learned the lamb came fresh from a farm just down the road where Rasul says Chuck sells only the best meat.  I can attest to the fact that the lamb we were eating was the best lamb of its kind I have ever tasted.  Expecting the typical chewy and unremarkable flavor to which I am accustomed to finding in a food truck, I instead bit into tender morsels exploding with balanced flavor.

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…and then we had thirds.  This was an offering after talking about the nuances of rice.  These guys know how to make rice (oh yeah, and lamb)!

The two men were at first, reluctant to divulge any of their secrets, but after much conversation and interest, they gave me some information that I consider to be golden (and I didn’t even need a gold pan).  How lucky did I feel when the rest of the bus missed out on the most important part of the trip – getting to know the Makers.  I am reluctant to share those secrets, especially since I haven’t had a chance to try them out yet, so stay tuned…

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King Kabob:  Find them in Sacramento now…and bring your appetite!

Hope to see you there next year!?

Happy Campers

08 Sunday May 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in beach mode, Eating Out, Ginger + Buddy, Reviews

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

Alderbrook Resort, Happy Mother's Day, King Salmon Naan with Fried Capers and Garlic Aioli

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Getting out of town is always a good idea, even when one lives in a good town.  A change of pace, a change of scenery, a change in attitude, a mini-break always does good things.  This weekend, I am taking you to the Hood Canal in Washington, where we will sit by the water, sit by the fire, eat oysters and fish, drink beer and wine, soak up the sun and breathe in the salty and fresh air.  We will watch eagles soar and happily look over our pups as they relax, play, sleep, eat and walk in the natural beauty of the NW.

Four weekends ago, we got out of town and headed to my in-laws vacation home 2 hours south of Seattle in Hoodsport, WA.  We have been there many times and enjoy every visit, but interestingly, we never once stopped at the waterside resort in Union, located a mere 20 minutes from their place called Alderbrook.  Being that it was a sunny Friday afternoon and hunger pains were calling, as we rolled through town we decided to stop and have lunch on their patio (finally).

Of course, despite this being the nicest Spring in the region that anyone can remember, the patio was not open yet (even though it was 72 degrees!).  BUT, they served “picnic lunches” which really was a fancy way of saying you could take the food “to go” and sit on the property, anywhere.  The best part for us (of course), was that our dogs were allowed to sit with us too.  We ordered a couple of drinks and strolled down to the lawn which was right at waters edge.  I went back to the car, collected Buddy and Ginger, and then the four of us settled into Adirondack chairs and watched a man collect many bags of oysters.  Many!

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And as the hours passed, starring at the water, the sky, the flora and fauna, a cart appeared and they were served water-side on the dock, being freshly-shucked as the happy guests strolled by.

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The lunch menu was extensive but not so large as to overwhelm.  It showcased the abundance of seafood we are blessed with in the Pacific Northwest and also provided plenty of alternatives to satisfy those that did not want to eat fish; the burger we tried the next day proved to be one of the very best (sorry Burger Stand)!

We were hankering for a well-concocted batch of fish and chips, and along with a couple of local beers, we ordered that as well as the brown sugar steelhead naan “sandwich”.  The fish and chips were thickly battered, cooked to the perfect state of golden brown, moist, tender and best of all, not soggily dripping with oil.  The tarter sauce boasted the perfect tang of pickle, partnered with just the right amount of dill.

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It was the steelhead that we were most taken with though.  So simple yet a delightful pocket of flavor easily eaten by hand; making a well-suited partner for the surroundings.  One order came with two rounds of naan spread in garlic aioli, topped with a single leaf of lettuce, a sautéed fillet of steelhead and fried capers sprinkled atop.  A wedge of lemon squeezed over just before taking a bite set up an explosion of flavor that was akin to the sound of a favorite jazz tune, keeping a beat slow and steady as expected but with a lick of sass thrown in.

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Nearby was a pit of fire sending out lovely wafts of smokiness that mixed happily with the briny air.  A happy bunch of “campers” were gathered ’round with sticks of marshmallows roasting.

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Buddy was snuggled in next to me, snoozing peacefully under the shade of my scarf.  Ginger had her own chair and eagerly looked over to the action at the fire pit, holding court as many other four-legged friends stopped by to exchange a quick hello as they moved on with their happy families

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Needless to say, we had found what seemed like, an old friend.  Sun, beachfront, comfy chairs and each other.

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Mixed with the company of our pups, good food, well-made drinks and the casualness of a day off at the beach, we were ready to move in.

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So as I write this, it should come as no surprise that we landed back to that happy place once again two weekends ago.  You can’t recreate a moment but you can create new ones, which is precisely what we did.  Sun, surf, substanence and seafood!  Life is good.

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King Salmon Naan with Fried Capers and Garlic Aioli
Serves 2

We recreated our (current) favorite menu item from the Alderbrook Resort at home, using fresh Alaskan king salmon, because that was what was most available to us at the time. Steelhead is a much thinner fillet which produces a crisp crust giving way to delicate flesh.  Steelhead is really just trout disguised as salmon.  King salmon is a happy substitute, also sporting a delicate flesh but is thicker, juicier and has more richness.

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This is a simple preparation as well as a healthy alternative to eating grab ‘n go when time is short during a busy week.  The naan we like to get is a brand called “Stone Hearth” and easily found at our local grocers.  The aioli we used was our go to”mayonnaise, aka Wildwood aioli that we buy at PCC or Whole Foods.  It is low in cholesterol and has a mildly sweet taste of garlic with the creaminess of mayonnaise but no chemical after taste.  The best capers are sold jarred in salt rather than brine. Yes, it does seem counter-intuitive but those stored in salt actually retain less sodium than those in liquid.  I always soak my capers in water and drain before serving to expel any additional, unneeded salt.  Just as they serve this at Alderbrook, for added crunch,  a nice hearty leaf of lettuce is used but for added color and perhaps a little bit of elegance, spinach can be substituted.

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INGREDIENTS

1 lb king salmon fillet, bones and skin removed
1/2 tsp brown sugar
Sea salt and pepper to taste
3 lemon wedges
Olive oil for grilling
2 TB Wildwood Aioli (or homemade garlic aioli) plus more for serving if desired
2 large, crunchy leaves of lettuce (Romaine, Red Leaf, Green Leaf or Butter Lettuce)
2 TB salt-packed capers, rinsed and soaked thoroughly in water for at least 10 minutes, then drained and soaked again.
2 rounds Stone Fire Naan, or other naan

PREPARATION

Rinse and pat-dry the salmon. Spread the brown sugar over the fillet and season lightly with sea salt and pepper. Squeeze the juice from one lemon wedge over.

Prepare a grill to very hot.

In a small fry pan, heat enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan. Drain the capers and pat dry. Add them to the pan and fry for a few minutes until crisp. Remove capers with a slotted spoon and let drain on a paper towel until ready to use.

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Brush the salmon with olive oil and brush the grill with olive oil (I prefer a dampened paper towel). Grill the salmon on the top side for approximately 5 minutes without moving. It is ready to be turned when it comes away easily from the grill with a spatula. Grill the second side until just barely cooked in the center, only a few minutes more.

Meanwhile, as the salmon is cooking on the second side, add the naan to the grill. Cook them on each side until slight grill marks form and the bread is soft and warm.

TO ASSEMBLE

Slather each naan with 1 TB aioli, top with one leaf of lettuce. Divide the fish among the two pieces of naan and top with a sprinkling of capers.

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Serve with a wedge of lemon and perhaps a side of sliced tomatoes.

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Do we have to leave?

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Happy Mother’s Day Mom (Pat), Mom (Lois), Mom (Linda), Mom (Talita), Mom (Doris), Sis (Laura), Sis (Christine) and Sis (Irma),; all of the lovely mothers in our family!!!!

Love,
Us (4)

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Time for a spa day!

The second act

22 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Reviews

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Willows Inn

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When you have eaten the best meal of your life, it is hard to know where the one to top it will come from and you are likely to think it will be somewhere new.  Standing on the ferry dock, I looked around noticing how different it felt then it had a year and a half before.  The sky was beginning to fade, slowly; the hot sun had been replaced with a misty rain and a hint that winter was closer than anticipated.  Buddy stumbled out of the car and left his mark before curling back up in his bed, but Ginger decided she was in a hurry to get to our destination.  She squatted on the sand to lighten her load and then made a bee-line for the dock.  She ran past the cars and her tail wagged eagerly as her tall legs took her closer and closer to the waters edge.

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Panic swept over me as I realized she was still faster than I was, and as you may know, definitely has a mind of her own.  I ran awkwardly behind (and I’m sure we were quite a sight to the others waiting for the ferry), but I luckily caught her before she was able to plunge happily off the end of the dock.  Ginger knew where we were headed, back to the Willows Inn.  Best meal of my life, and a favorite puppy adventure spot.

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Whew!

Tom and I refreshed after hauling our things from car up the hill and then up the steps to the cottage.  I’m sure to the kitchen staff in the windows nearby that it looked like we were moving in.  Nothing like a little workout before a grand indulgence!  We tucked the kids into their beds before heading down to the lounge for a cocktail.  Stepping in from the cold, damp air, we were immediately warmed by the heat of a blazing fire and the room was filled with a wonderfully smokey aroma and the sounds of laughter and chatter.

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There were only two seats open, next to a shelf filled with jars of island preserves of dried herbs and even creatures from the sea.  Above the shelf was a windowless opening that looked over the bar which was tucked back in it’s own cozy room.  We ordered our cocktails (two Dogwoods made with apple cider and rye) and sat back to take in the scene.  Even though our dinner reservations weren’t until the next evening, we felt as if we were guests at a grand dinner party.

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As the dinner hour began, we sat cozily sipping our cocktail in the parlor while everyone else was escorted to their seats.  Soon plates of food came from the kitchen being delivered to the guests.  What a wonderful scene, we had the best seat in the house to watch the magic unfold.  Suddenly to our surprise, a warm brick with the most amazing roasted sunflower root sitting on top arrived.  We smiled, what a treat to wrap up the beverages with before our lazy departure.  We savored their sweetness and the accompanying sweet onion puree, was literally finger-licking good.  Then, out of the blue, a plate of perfectly prepared, delicate chanterelles were set before us, and followed by two of the freshest oysters topped with rose hip granita.  As yet another plate arrived, I very guiltily reminded our server that we weren’t joining for dinner until the following night.  His reply “Oh I know, but we’re feeling nice.”, with a wink. “Plus, it doesn’t mean your not important.”…

Feeling as though that was enough to be the perfect dinner, we snuck out the back and headed around the island to the Beach House Cafe across from the ferry dock. Again, warm and inviting, but casually, country pleasant.

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Our sweet server, serving the table behind us.

We had a sweet server and enjoyed a wonderful meal of fried cornish hen, spaghetti bolanaise and a delightful salad of apples, goat cheese and beets.  We went to bed that night in anticipation of the Inn’s breakfast the next morning.  On our previous visit, when we had stayed for the first time, we woke up on a Monday; no breakfast service on that day and had wondered, what if?

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We, of course, were late to the dining room, sneaking in just prior to the 11:00am close.  Luckily, a foursome was still there and another followed shortly after us so we were not left to dine alone.  The menu was somewhat odd, I remember thinking.

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Soon I would realize, each bite was in harmony with the others and I was about to eat what would be the best breakfast of my life.

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As we sat in the parlor after finishing our meal, sipping the remains of our champagne, the once quiet kitchen began to awaken.  It seemed like an easy melody at first, starting out quietly, slowly building up to, what would eventually end in a crescendo.  The air began filling with smells that were reminiscent of the holidays.  I half expected a little grandmother to come ask me if I wanted tea.  We were completely alone in the room, other than the fire, yet directly behind us, merely 15 steps away, was a most elaborate production unfolding.  Dinner preparation was underway and many hours of work ahead by the dedicated staff.  Among them was Blaine himself, just recently returning from his book release in New York the night before.

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There was a promise of rain, but for now, we had dry skies and took advantage of it by heading down to the beach where, once again, we were completely alone.  The sandy shores were speckled with remnants tossed up from the ocean.  Ginger and Buddy frolicked, wearing themselves out once again.

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Warming up after the romp in the sand.

 

 

tomSoon it would be time for the second act, and another perfect meal…

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blaine.jpg…the best meals of our lives!

A Day in the Life: The dogs (and food) of Santana Row

24 Saturday Jan 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Reviews

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

dogs in the city, Paula Rees, San Jose California, Santana Row

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My Utopia would be a place in which our dogs were welcome to accompany us anywhere.  A place that was warm, but not hot, comfortable, but not staged.  It would have cafes with good food and well-made drinks. There would be music and energy, not simply noise.  The people would be interesting, colorful and friendly; rich or not rich, well-dressed or happily clad in that odd garment that only they could wear well. The dogs of course, would be central to the community, more plentiful than young children, yet less dominant than the surrounding flavor.

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When music was involved, we would dance, even if only in our heads (well, not all of us).  The days would pass by the minute, not the hour, slowly and with full awareness.  We would be with others but also be happily alone, together. The food would be good.  I know I already said that but it is important enough to mention again.  More important though is the service, the delight in making others have a good time, especially the dogs.  The service is not just from those employed to serve us, but from those that wish to serve others, just because.

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People would connect and interact; both strangers and friends (often with a shared love of dogs).

IMG_0162(And a shared love of food. Isabelle’s Mom is going to teach me how to make rabbit paella someday, I hope).

In this Utopia, there are many layers, which I prefer to unfold softly and with purpose, rather than irrationally, all at once.  I think of Paris; a city to which I have never been.  I dream of the cafes, bustling with…well, I don’t know but I imagine them bustling.  The smells fragrant and rich, the people sophisticated and flawed but perfect and quirky or perfectly quirky and weird. The dogs are there; always there are dogs.  It is a way of life rather than anything else; they are part of the family, why wouldn’t they be there?

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This particular utopia is nomadic, not specific to just one location because in my Utopia it is not a make-believe place, rather, a way of life, that just happens to be localized to a certain parcel of land, for this moment in time, and hopefully the next moment, and the next moment again.  Most recently, I experienced a little slice of utopia called Santana Row.  This strip of land nestled amidst the San Jose Valley is a gathering place for both people and dogs. Everywhere we looked, there were dogs!

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And some looked back.

And others went about their business.
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Dogs playing and sleeping, sitting, standing or being carefully cradled and held.  The restaurants, bistros and cafes that lined the cobbled walks all seemed to have someone furry and four-legged mixed in.  The dogs were part of the character, part of the Place.

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Some more fashionable than others.

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Whether we were waking up to our cappuccino at the French bakery,

IMG_0198(He looks like he needs his coffee.)

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sipping on a cocktail under the trees at the tequila bar in the park,

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munching on a basket of frites and picking at a plate of charcuterie at the Left Bank,

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or washing down our tomato bisque with a glass of rosé at the Wine Bar,

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we were accompanied by dogs.  Cute, loving, likable dogs.

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Meet Joey.  Sweet Joey.  It is hard to believe he is quite sick, with late stage cancer that will steal him away too early.  On this sunny day though, in that moment, he was enjoying the world around him, breathing in fresh air surrounded by his loved ones as well as strangers, and still willing to share a kiss.  He added joy to our day just by being there.

PS_IMG_0302Then there is Coco, whose life is just beginning.

IMG_0232This one is Sasha, who is just as beautiful as and looks like…

PSIMG_0237…her Mom.

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I am sooo thirsty!

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Thirsty for more!

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Thunder

PS IMG_0309Casey (reminds us of our Buffy).

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Just a day. In the life, at Santana Row.

Paula Rees (Tom’s mentor and our dear friend), of Foreseer (formerly Maestri Design) is the visionary behind making this particular utopia successful.  If only everyone could see what Placemaking really brings, to a community, to our lives!  Paula and Jeff, thank you for sharing this magical Place!  Thank you for bringing us here!  And, keep doing more of… this thing that you do, so well.

PS_IMG_0132The crew, hanging out at the Valencia Hotel (minus me, the makeshift photographer equipped only with an iPhone) plotting our assault on the streets below…(and lunch, or was it brunch, or brunch, then lunch? Of course dinner also was divine).

IMG_0379Check-it kids, that’s a wrap.  Get in the d**n car!

Notoriously late…

20 Saturday Dec 2014

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, holidays, Reviews, the kitchen

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

Maui, O'o Farm, Pacifico, Roast Cornish game hens

 

maui signSo late!

I’m notoriously late. Truly, notoriously, can count on it, late!

I have a long-time relationship with a car service that has taken me to the airport for the better part of twenty years (wow, has it really been that long?).  Owners of Bellevue Towncar Service, Mark and Natasha, are like family.  As Mark was driving Tom and I to the airport for our Thanksgiving/Tom’s birthday trip to Maui, we were discussing individual behaviors.  He has a client base that, with time, he has come to know their behaviors are unchanging.  I am one of those un-changables; he always schedules in an extra 20 minutes for my tardiness, because he knows I always will be t a r d y .

At first it was a forgotten wallet or one more shirt to pack; five more minutes, please!  Sometimes, it was Buffy, taking too long outside to pee (Wheeee! Now it is Ginger and Buddy).  Early on, I realized that when I told him to pick me up at 5:00 am, he would be outside at 4:45, and I would usually make it to the curb by 5:15.  He never missed a pick-up time, was always early and never late.  I was always late, and never early.

As we were conversing in the car this trip, he eluded that he knows me well.  Some clients are waiting curbside, bags packed, no matter how early he shows up.  With me, he can count on my rushing out the door, with more bags than I need, and never less than 15 minutes late.

So yes, it is December, and as I’m cutting into my Halloween pumpkins, almost six weeks after Halloween (because the Christmas tree has decided to move-in in their place and I don’t want them to go to waste), it occurs to me, I haven’t yet finished writing about O’o Farms.  I started writing about it in November…2013!  Yes, I said 2013 (more than a year ago, for those of you not paying attention).

B & G 1 A little Grinchy (but festive) with the tree waiting to come inside, but no licks on the candy cane.

So, rewind to the beginning…November, 2013, lunch on “the Farm” (this is what I had to say back then):

“I am not one to be caught acting like a tourist, even if I am (which in this case I’m not) nor would I be the one asking for someone’s autograph; that’s like asking for someone to sign my trash.  We are all living life in similar capacity, some just luckier, smarter, or more talented than the others.  Some who need for material things and some that are fueled by love.  Each of us has, or has had, capacity to change their situation or move geography if desired.  I would love to live a million lifetimes, doing something different with each and every one of them.  If asked today what it is I want to do and where, the answer would be upcountry, down country or any country – on a farm; a beautiful, spectacular, breathtaking farm.  I don’t mean a milking the cows or shoveling manure kind of farm (even though that is part of the package for farm life).  I mean a “wow”, I’m lucky to be alive and be allowed to work on this farm kind-of-place!

Now, I can’t say that I’m a gardener (because I’m not); it wasn’t something I ever chose to learn.  I can snip my herbs and appreciate the tomatoes that Tom readies every Summer; awaiting their peak as they ripen in the sun.  I can plant a row of seeds or pick a crop of berries, if not too large a crop.  I do neither of those things particularly well, but I can appreciate those that do.  Those that allow we who appreciate the best the land can offer, to partake.  I appreciate those that nurture, grow and have respect of land and life.  O’o Farms is comprised of just those kind of people.  As with any place that is good, it is the people behind that place that make it a good place.  O’o Farms is such a place.

We had been meaning to go for a few years but could never drag ourselves off the beach for long enough to see how beautiful this farm is and enjoy the deliciousness it has to offer.  When I was on island this (that) past July, I had made reservations online in the wee hours of the night, but apparently, technology didn’t quite make it up the mountain, so we (nieces + Mom) weren’t able to join the farm hands on that trip; much to their dismay.  This trip I used the POT device (plain old telephone) so Tom and I were able to join a group of people to tour the farm, harvest fixings for our salad and consume an undeniably delicious lunch, outdoors, looking down over the valley and out to the beach.

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Yes, this farm is a spectacular place.  It wasn’t always this way though.  It might have been beautiful, always, but hard work, passion and good people made it into the magical place that it is today.

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Ansel begins the tour at his coffee and olive trees.  I was immediately drawn into the enthusiasm he portrayed. He was like a child who was describing (tearing into) a beautifully wrapped gift and simultaneously, a proud papa who had nurtured his child to become prosperous, charitable and kind.  He was like an educator who could discover new things alongside his students.  Ansel is the orchard manager and the pride that he takes shows, in his words, in his eyes and in the crops that he helps nurture; it is infectious.

After Ansel educated us on their farming practices and agricultural efforts and we had taken the walking tour where we harvested bits for our lunch, JJ wowed us with the edibles from his outdoor kitchen; I thought him to be the luckiest man on earth at the time, and us to be the luckiest of diners.  I couldn’t wait to go back.”

Fast-forward to: November, 2014, and our “recent” lunch on the Farm.

On return to the Farm, on the way up the volcano of Haleakala, I breathed in the fresh air and rejoiced.

O’o farms.  A tour and a lunch.

A snack, and a tour, and a lunch.

An education, a snack, and a meal!

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Plus the view, once again, isn’t bad either, of the farm, the distant ocean or the guide.  Ansel, once again greets his crowd at the start of the epicurean adventure and thoroughly recreates the history, past and present, that went into making this farm the special place that it is.  This young man is passionate about the land and the work that goes into cultivating a product special enough to boast itself proudly on menus in Lahaina and at the farm, for which the produce is grown.  It is not found in the markets, which makes it coveted by the lucky patrons that are smart enough to book a table (I recommend the table located on the mountain, under the thatched roof, looking down on the valley and out onto the ocean…at this place, called O’o Farm.

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I could spiel off all the facts he told us, but that would be like giving away the ending of a movie, you just need to go there to hear about the plot yourself.  I will say…compost, chickens, wattle trees, 1,000 crops in rotation…oh my (to the tune of “Lions & Tigers & Bears…oh my).

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What I really want to tell you about, is the food.  Needless to say, the produce is über fresh and this fact alone, well, this coupled with the wood-fired oven, sets the tone for a spectacular meal.  While the group is off touring the farm, harvesting ingredients for the salad, Chef is preparing a glorious feast.  Chef JJ, who was with us last year has moved back to the Mainland.

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Joining the Farm in October of this year, the sous chef at the sister restaurant Pacific’o (located in Lahaina and definitely worthy of a visit), was Chef Daniel.  We really like Chef Daniel.  Not only is he a fabulous chef, he is a good guy.  He too has that infectious passion for what he does and he openly shares his process with the inquisitives (such as myself) without the airy pretension that can sometimes accompany those donning the coat of a chef.

PS2_buffet 1The Chef

THE FOOD:

wood oven 1After-the-fact, dark now, but still red coals inside. Lovely heat on a cool mountainside (John, I need one of these!).

Wine: Irony chardonnay, BYOB, purchased from our favorite wine shop, Wailea Wine.  You are able to bring with you a bottle (or more) of wine to enjoy with your meal.  They will keep it chilled (if needed) until lunch and then open it and provide stemware.

Simple focaccia bread, doused heavily in olive oil (made from the harvest of Ansel’s olive trees) and baked in the wood-fired oven.  This was so good a fight almost broke out for the last piece (honest, no kidding).

Salad of hand-harvested baby lettuces, spinach, arugula, fennel fronds & purple Osaka (a mustard green that is reminiscent of wasabi) and whatever other stray greens we decided to harvest and throw into the basket on our tour.  The salad is dressed with an addictive lemon vinaigrette made by reducing citrus to a syrup and whisking in oil, infused with kafir lime and lemongrass, all from the site.  I think everyone at our table would have drank it if offered a cup.

lunch 3

Crispy tofu with wood-fired vegetables, rutabaga, daikon, and watermelon radish.  The tofu is memorable, almost magical.  It is seared for almost 2 hours to deplete it of excess moisture then cooked amongst a nest of root vegetables to produce a fluffy pillow of flavor with just the right amount of crisp.  If you think you don’t like tofu (or even if you do), you will (even more-so) after this.

Fresh-caught local Mahi Mahi roasted in the wood-fired oven.  This is finished with a crush of fresh Kafir lime leaf and seared in lemongrass-infused oil, then topped with braised scallions and leeks.  The fish is so fresh that it cuts like butter and melts in your mouth, exploding with flavor.  Never have I enjoyed this type of fish so much.

lunch 2

lunch 4

Rosemary lemon-brined chicken roasted in the wood-fired oven, topped with juices from the pan and chayote squash (which tastes like a cross between a potato and a cucumber).  The chicken was so moist and tender that I almost mistook it for the fish as I put in on my plate.  For a moment, I thought of replicating it for our Thanksgiving supper but decided to keep traditional with our beach grill of Hawaiian fish.  Instead I have semi-replicated it here at home using Cornish hen; my new favorite roasted bird.

buffet 2Chicken with root vegetables in foreground.

Chocolate truffles, Maui pineapple and French-presss coffee, a finale:

coffee choco

THE SCENE:

view 2

The farm tour concludes with a look at the newly built coffee roasting facility, built by hand using eucalyptus and wattle trees fallen from the property.  Again, with great pride, Ansel describes the nuances of coffee production and describes what it takes to go from berry to cup.  The coffee can be purchased on-line at ‘āina Gourmet Coffee and Tom (and I) heartily recommend the mokka roast (that we were just drinking today).

coffee roast house ansel

From there, we walk back to the kitchen, wash our hands at the outdoor sink and gather around to plate up our food that is just being laid out upon our arrival.

sink

The wine we brought with us has been kept chilled and brought down to the tables to be opened.  Long communal tables made from full slabs of tree are all set with china, glassware and silver.  There were three of them nestled under a thatched roof, overlooking the farm, valley below, and of course, the ocean (both the North and South shores).  The air is clean, fragrant and warm, but definitely not hot.  If you breath in deeply, you can fill your lungs with the mountain air and capture the essence of the land.  As you breath out, slowly, actively engaged with the surrounding views, temporarily, you are in a moment of deep zen.

PS_lunch 1

ROSEMARY, LEMON-BRINED CORNISH HENS

I chose cornish hens here because I had been meaning to roast a few after being served a delicious dinner of said-bird at my mother-in-law’s place this past summer.  Chef Daniel described what he used for the brine and I translated that description into a more humble scale, suitable for four people rather than 20.

This is delicious served alongside just a simple green salad, or also, give roasted chayote squash a try.  The kafir lime leaves infuse a subtle, exotic flavor, but if you have trouble finding them, squeeze over a little extra citrus; either way, you won’t be disappointed with the finished dish.

PS_cornish hen roast

INGREDIENTS 

8 cups water
1/4 cup salt
1/4 cup honey
8 bay leaves
4 TB lemon juice
4 sprigs rosemary
3 sprigs thyme
1 stalk celery
1 tsp toasted corriander seed

2 cornish game hens (preferably organic, pastured hens), lemongrass, kaffir lime-infused oil (simply heat a pan and add a lemongrass stalk with outer shell removed, a few kaffir lime leaves and some coriander seeds. Let warm, then add some grape seed oil to cover, when the oil is warm, turn off the heat and let the flavor infuse).

PREPARE

Bring everything but the hens and the oil to a boil.  Turn off the heat and let cool to room temperature.

Meanwhile, cut out the backbone from the hens and cut the birds into two halves, consisting each of breast and leg.

Add the poultry to the brine liquid.  Let sit, covered and refrigerated for a minimum of 4 hours (maximum 24 hours).

Drain and pat dry.  Put all of the pieces into a stainless steel or glass bowl and cover loosely with paper towels.  Let sit overnight refrigerated (to dry further).

Brush with the infused oil and place the pieces in a single layer in a baking pan.  Toss a few lime leaves into the pan.

Roast in a pre-heated, 400-degree oven for approximately 45-60 minutes.  Turn once or twice during roasting and brush with the pan juices each turn.

When the skin is golden and the meat is cooked through (internal temp should be 165), remove from the oven and let rest for 10 minutes before serving.

TO SERVE:

Squeeze lemon juice over the hens and then squeeze the lime leaves over.  Brush with more infused oil and pan drippings.  If you like, you can heat the pan drippings with a little white wine plus more lemon juice and use that as a sauce.

PScornish hen plateJPG
Shown with roasted leeks and watermelon radish.

Don’t forget, it is perfectly acceptable to pick up the hens with your hands and be sure to lick the bone.  Keep the bones away from your dogs though, as poultry bones can be dangerous to their health.

swing
Always make time for play or contemplation.

Turn up the heat!

18 Saturday Oct 2014

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Reviews, the kitchen

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Aneto, IFBC 2014, Jason Wilson, Lesley Stowe, Miller's Guild, Raincoast Crisps, Soy Vay, Thierry Rautureau, Todd Coleman, tomato soup, wine from Bordeaux

PS_crostini
Tomato soup as a spread on bruschetta…Buffalo mozzarella, basil and tomatoes.

I’m addicted to food.  I think it is the food.  Or, is it the packaging that helps feed my addiction (perhaps both)?  And by packaging, I don’t just mean clever graphics, pretty bottles or catchy phrases…necessarily.  Sometimes, it is how Nature packages itself up in a pretty little shape, a sexy color, or a little grit.  I am addicted to food.

Some people collect shoes.  I collect food.  I had to think long and hard before spending $10 on a pair of socks last week but didn’t even hesitate to shell out $10.00 for a bag of fresh cranberry beans at a Farmer’s Market.  It makes me happy just knowing that I helped an independent farm and that the beans are in my ‘fridge waiting for a delicious plate to land on (whereas those socks, cool as they are, will just end up lost…from each other, and inevitably with a hole in the toe after one wear).  Hopefully those cranberry beans won’t still be in my ‘fridge next week, turning brown and growing mold (yet they probably will).  This happens sometimes.  I let things sit too long.  Sometimes because I forget it is there (buried underneath the latest find).  Sometimes I am saving it for just the right thing to make, which often occurs to me a little late.  Yet sometimes, I just like to buy fancy products, or interesting products, or something unique, ambiguous, or special; as long as it is a food product.  Those might sit on my pantry shelf, in my refrigerator or out on display, too precious to open (like a beautifully wrapped gift).  Because once opened, it gets used and then it is gone (yet I know, edible things are meant to be consumed).  Like those bottles of wine we purchased in Napa Valley well over a decade ago, hand carried home on the plane (because you could do that 15 years ago) and still haven’t drank (which, let’s face it, is the point; to drink them!).  There is the obnoxiously large bottle of black truffle pieces packed in oil that I shelled out $50 for thirteen years ago.  Yep, still in my pantry (no good to me now, but there they sit, taunting me every time I open the door).  Though I may have gotten my $50 worth just by looking at them so many times, contemplating ways in which I would use them…someday!

Sometimes it is the anticipation that brings us the most joy?  But now that I am admitting this (to myself), I realize the food is never really gone, the memory will always be there; it is about the experiences (plus sometimes, you can buy more).  During a demonstration by Thierry Rautereau at the IFBC 2014 conference, he teased the audience that the “good olive oil”, that we shelled out the “big bucks” for, is not meant to just sit on the counter.  In fact, it shouldn’t be on the counter at all (to be destroyed by the heat, “stick it in the fridge at least”).  He urged us to put it to use, as he drizzled copious amounts over a beautiful and quick tomato soup.  I chuckled to myself and caught a little snicker in Tom’s grin as he looked over at me, knowing that I am guilty of this.  The first thing I did when we went home that night (after letting Ginger and Buddy out of course), was to pop open my latest good bottle of olive oil and douse it over some thick, country bread.  We washed that down with some wine (yet some of those bottles from Napa are still cradled in our wine fridge), baby steps.

I bought another loaf of bread today.  Actually, I bought two.  This in addition to the bag of day-old ciabatta buns and the bag of mini potato baguettes.  My bread drawer is already full, no room at the Inn(box)!  As I transfer the walnut wheat baguette from it’s paper pouch to a wrap of foil, I contemplate freezing it for later use.  When I asked the girl behind the counter to get it down so I could take it home, I really couldn’t stop thinking about how it would taste with a trickle of good olive oil and a thin slice of cheese, something sturdy and pungent.  Perhaps a little honey too?  Or a swath of blueberry conserve, freshly made.  I also pictured a smear of white bean dip, dripping with garlic, creamy and white atop the dark, nutty bread, perhaps crowned with a slice of proscuitto (and possibly a fig?).  But I am too full now, and dinner is poblano stew.  With poblano stew, I need corn tortillas.  Warmed over a flame until lightly blistered.  I have been hoarding those as well.  In fact, I now realize, I might have been hoarding the wrong kind (and they too may have gone bad).  Oops.

It might sound as if I have started off-topic (or rambling on as Tom alerted me), but in fact, this topic is precisely the point.  I promised I would give a summary of the IFBC conference I “recently” attended (Tom’s procrastination has rubbed off on me it appears), so now, that is what I am going to do, and let’s face it, people willing to fly in from out of state to attend this thing, must also be addicted to food.  It appears I am in excellent company.

I bet you all are wondering what it is like to attend a food bloggers conference?  Well, of course, assuming you have never actually attended one.  I had not attended one before this year and wondered what it would be like myself.  I expected, well, I’m not really sure what I expected.  So I did what any curious person would do.  I Googled it.  What to expect.  I typed in “what to expect at a food bloggers conference”.  Go ahead.  Give it a try.  Did you find Irvin (here)?  Funny stuff.  Sadly, this post won’t be as funny.  But for that I won’t apologize.  He is clearly a funny guy.

And I’m okay with that.  What I did not expect, was to walk into a “candy” store for food addicts.  It was insane.  Insane in a good way?!  A lot of wonderful sponsors showcased their food and wares in creative and delicious ways (yes, delicious, they fed us too).  There was mention of a swag bag on the website.  I didn’t think much of it because, we were there for the speakers and meeting like-minded people, not for the food.  But then the swag bag turned out to be a swag room.  A ballroom filled with tables of product for the taking.  So I now have a swag shelf!  I am grateful and excited to try these products (many of which I have never tried).  I know how much money and effort those companies put into this so I want to say thanks.  Thank you.  Each of you.  Too many to list here so I want to just highlight some of my favorites, especially those lesser known ones:

“Our friends from Spain“, Aneto, brought each participant a personalized apron.  These guys are really cool (and so are the aprons)!  They also brought many pounds worth of broth…from Spain(!).  This is not just any broth.  This is artisan broth, 100% natural, gluten free and from what I can tell, hard to come by (as in sells out fast), pricey but worth the money.  We all know that Spain is home of the Paella so how clever to have Paella broth?  Even though it surely put them over their weight limit at baggage check.

PS_apron newTom sporting the 10LitK apron from Aneto.

Soy Vay.  Say what?  Soy Vay – Toasted Sesame Dressing and Marinade (formally called Cha-Cha Chinese Chicken Salad Dressing).  I typically don’t use bottled marinades and dressings.  If I do buy them, it is usually to do with the packaging (there it is again), wholesomeness, and perhaps an unusual ingredient or combination.  They often end up on my pantry shelf along with those truffles.  Last night, however, I decided to give this a try on my salmon prep.  There are no preservatives and the ingredients were all familiar to pronounce and not unlike what I might make myself.  I was tired.  I was hungry and I didn’t want to think too hard.  And I am glad I gave it a try.  It was delicious as a marinade for the salmon (I also brushed it on my roasted eggplant) and it worked perfectly to dress some cabbage and red grapes that I tossed together for a side salad.  I grilled the salmon on a cedar plank and threw fully, non-husked, fresh, sweet corn (from Hunter Farms) directly on the grill.  Dinner was delicious (with very little effort).

Lesley Stowe stole my heart with her attention to detail, delectable appetizer pairings and a “cracker” that I can finally get behind.  Her specialty food line that boasts the small batch product raincoats crisps, is perfect for entertaining, eating straight from the box or making a mini meal.  She and her wonderful staff created a mini party and welcome oasis amongst a multitude of distracting noise.

While I am thanking people, it would be remiss of me not to give a big shout out and bear hug of gratitude to our hosts of this event, Foodista’s Founders, Sheri Wetherell and Barnaby Dorfman! These guys know how to educate, inspire and throw a fabulous party.  Thanks guys!  We will be back for sure.

Meanwhile, back to the conference; the keynote speakers were the husband and wife team Karen Page and Andy Dornenburg, that delivered a powerfull, inspiring start to the conference.  It turned out I own (and really loved reading) their book titled becoming a Chef and will definitely be buying a copy of their new book The Vegetarian Flavor Bible.

PS_TCcontact
No, that’s not Todd making mole…

Hands down though, our favorite speaker was Todd Coleman, previous Executive Food Editor of Saveur magazine, who recently launched a company called Creative Concepts.  His talk was on photography.  Although self-proclaimed as not actually a photographer per say, he really is (a good photographer and professional Photographer and Creative Director of Todd Coleman Photography).  He mostly has tenacity, vision and the ability to do the unexpected intuitively.  He doesn’t follow the rules and doesn’t think in a straight line.  Doing the unexpected, the un-allowed, even the outrageous, to get a good shot, is how he is able to deliver un-staged (staged) imagery that evoke culinary emotion.  My kind of guy.  He is also humble, casual and off-the-cuff.  I am embarrassed to admit that I actually asked someone to take a picture of us.  I NEVER do that.  Not even sure why I did.  I felt really silly afterwards because that is something I pride myself on NEVER(!) doing.

When I was young, we once had Lee Meriwether (from TV’s Barnaby Jones, as Catwoman on Batman circa 1966, and former Miss America 1955), Robert Reed (from The Brady Bunch) and others…to our house (in Alaska) during a fund-raiser my Mom was putting on for the American Cancer Society.  She bought my brother and I each a little “autograph-friendly” stuffed animal that we were to fill up with autographs from all the celebrities that attended.  I refused to get mine signed because I didn’t want to look like a groupie.  Plus, I thought it was dumb, to have someone’s signature.  Who cares?  So instead, I stood there next to Todd Coleman and smiled while someone took our picture with my phone. Delete(!).  He now classifies me as a groupie, I’m sure.  Maybe I should have sent HIM the picture instead of deleting it.  How lucky of him to be photographed next to ME?  No?  I guess not.  Silly.  In any case, if I ever meet him again, perhaps I will actually have an intelligent conversation about, say, something that he could offer unique insight into, like perhaps, publishing, magazine submittals, what it is like to be an editorial superstar/design visionary.   Instead I asked him what kind of camera I should buy.  I’m sorry Todd, I really am an intelligent person.  Don’t judge me by my (or at least my husband’s) adolescent behavior.

Todd’s words of wisdom:

PS_TCrough cake 2Abnormal serving.

“Challenge the viewer. Over the top mess…I let the milkshake sit.  I did all sorts of things to the chocolate cake after more traditional shots.” 

PS_TCpizza ladyMake friends.

On location one day, Todd was out peaking in windows and saw an old women sitting at her table (stalking with good intention).  He went and got a pizza from the restaurant he was shooting (photographs, not bullets) and asked her if he could photograph her with it in her house (hutzpah?)…creative staging!

On another occasion, he was “in a really crappy place. This guy was in here with his son. I just talked to him. I showed interest…I spent an hour taking photos. I was doing a professional photoshot with them and they didn’t even know it was happening; it ran a full page spread.”

PS_TCmolePush perspective.

“Get in close with a wide angle lens. Get in really close; push into the food. Don’t worry about getting mole on your camera.”

tough guyHave no fear!

“These were some bad-ass dudes. I got the shot and got the hell out. People can get really upset with you. Sometimes it is better not to ask permission.”

With that thought, the above pictures with words of wisdom from Todd, were courtesy of my iPhone taking photos of Todd’s images projected in a poorly-lit conference space and on my iPad taking notes with auto-correct deciphering what I typed.  I did not ask permission.

After retrieving my iPhone from the stranger that took the infamous Todd ‘n Me photo and deleting it, it was time for…

PS_drinks at guild 1...a brief intermission (across the street at chef Jason Wilson’s new(er) restaurant Miller’s Guild – highly recommended).

Back to the conference. 

There were several sessions involving social media, something that is definitely not my strong suit, but since I need to make myself stronger in that department, I dutifully attended.  What I learned is this.  Google+ is (apparently) the cornerstone of social media and we should all be using it.  I will be looking into this further.  Advice or helpful hints are gratefully welcome if you want to leave me a comment (please?).  Seriously though (I am serious), both Tom and I felt that being there was a humanization of living/working in such a virtual world.  Meeting face-to-face cannot be traded for tech.  Never will!  Just like turning a physical page can NOT be traded for scrolling.  The virtual world was a little bit humanized by this conference, in that we were all here, together!

Our favorite session was on wines of Bordeaux (apparently this was everyone else’s favorite too; as they were overwhelmed with the unexpected over-attendance).  It was informative, interactive (think wine tasting) and fun.  Virginia (don’t call her that), AKA: Reggie, Reg, and er, Regina (rhymes with, well, you know) who teaches at South Seattle Community College (ironically located in West Seattle) is definitely someone I would like to tag along with to France.  Or South Central, WA, in which we were invited to harvest grapes, but sadly couldn’t attend (blasted day jobs).

PS_wine
T a s t y, and no, that’s not Reggie’s arm.

Tom has a few quick tasting notes:

1.  Sparkling Rosé from Bordeaux is…t a s t y (especially in the middle of the day, stuck in a conference room on a gorgeous, sunny Fall day).

2.  White wine from Bordeaux is…t a s t y (especially in the middle of the day, stuck in a conference room on a gorgeous, sunny Fall day).

3.  Red wine from Bordeaux is… really t a s t y (especially in the middle of the day, stuck in a conference room on a gorgeous, sunny Fall day).

4.  In all seriousness, it was informative, interactive (got to get to know your table mates trying to identify scents, easy ones like vanilla, harder citrus and nut ones, and tricky ones like “church pew” (no kidding).  Reg is a great educator, clever, funny, a little naughty, someone you would want to take a class from, even if it was calculus.  Well, maybe not.  But if you had to take calculus, she’s the teacher with the wait list.

PS_Reg
Later that night, the real “tasting” continued.

I will leave you with a little tomato soup disguised as an amuse as demonstrated by Seattle’s entertaining culinary pioneer “The Chef in the Hat”, Thierry Rautureau (see commentary above).  He didn’t need to turn up the heat to get the place smoking, because the butter used in his demonstration almost invited the local firemen for lunch.  The room, however smokin’ as it was, was F R E E Z I N G.  So my/our only request for next year is, TURN UP THE HEAT, please.  No smoke required.

Tomato soup with goat cheese quenelle – amuse bouche

PS_martini glassTomato soup with goat cheese quenelle  – amuse bouche

INGREDIENTS

1 1/4 lbs fresh tomatoes, rinsed and coarsely diced
2 cloves of garlic – peeled and chopped
A handful of fresh basil, cleaned, dried and sliced
Sea salt to taste
Good quality olive oil
Optional: fresh chèvre for garnish

PS_tomato pan 4

PREPARE

Heat a sauté pan and add a bit of olive oil.  Let it rush around the pan to coat.

Add the tomatoes, followed by the garlic.

Give the pan a toss.  Your heat should be on medium.

Let this cook just a few minutes more until the tomatoes begin to soften.  Throw in the basil and toss again, cooking another minute.

Mix in sea salt to taste.

Transfer the tomato mixture to a blender or food processor and purée to your desired consistency.  For a simple, quick meal, freeze individual portions in Ziploc freezer bags for later use.

TO SERVE (Chef in the Hat style)

Fill martini glasses with chilled soup.  Using a spoon form the chèvre into oval (quenelle) shapes and place in the center of the soup.  Top with a basil leaf or other sprig of herb.

This is soup is also delicious warmed with a grilled cheese sandwich or spread on grilled bread and topped with soft cheese and herbs.

PS_Tommessycrop
Grilled cheese and (spilled) tomato soup…

Todd should be proud (abnormal serving + over the top mess)!

PS_Ron's DougTo new friends!  Doug (& Ron), see you next year?

PS_brunchTom and I made our finale meal back across the street at Miller’s Guild for (my favorite) fried chicken + egg brunch before I went to my next stop, writing class with Kathleen Flinn.!!  Highly recommend!

What a weekend it was!

Oops!

24 Tuesday Jun 2014

Posted by Stacey Bender in Reviews

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

technical difficulties, Whoopsy Daisy

20140624-112741.jpg
Well, yep. You all now know… I am technology-challenged. It came to my attention, from several corners of the world, that I might have hit a wrong button, saved something incorrectly, or had way too many devices open trying to do the same thing. Turns out I maybe did (I guess? Maybe?)! So, for those of you that opened a blank page or saw a post in progress, you can get to my latest (correct) post here…sorry if this is a rerun for any. I swear I’m not just trying to improve my stats!

47.535662-122.054956
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