Marla in the Kitchen
http://blog.marlainthekitchen.com
Marla in the Kitchen

Soup glorious soup: tomato, Thai pork dumpling, crab gumbo, Swiss onion

Soup was on the menu in every restaurant I've worked. In several, it was spelled soup du jour but it was still soup: clam chowder and lentil at Sound Food, albondigas at the Border Grill, Swiss onion and Thai pork dumpling at City Restaurant, crab gumbo at the Dahlia. I never cared much for cold soup—it seems a conflict of interest. Soup conjures up snowsuit kids stomping in from the cold for lunch or men in Levis sitting on the tailgate of a Chevy truck pouring hot soup from a Thermos.

Soup making skills secured my first kitchen job in Los Angeles. In August, 1982 Bob took a job with a small software company in Santa Monica and moved down from Vashon. I followed in September and, as our rent quadrupled, lost no time finding a job. We lived in Westwood near UCLA, an area packed with people who didn't cook but loved to eat.

I made the rounds in Westwood Village with resume in hand and late one rainy afternoon I hesitated for a long time at the elegant entrance of Stratton's—a brick Tudor building with a gated courtyard. I dripped into the lobby, asked to see the chef, and followed the maitre' d to the bar.

Courtyard outside Stratton's, now part of the Geffen Playhouse. Picture from Flikr—name of photographer not given.



Dennis (tall, dark, and handsome) sprawled on a stool, cigarette in mouth (Dennis smoked wherever he wanted) and drink in hand. He ignored my damp resume and asked, "What can you do?"

"I can cook, I can't bake, I always show up, and I don't do drugs."

"Sounds good, go make soup for tonight."

"What kind?"

"You tell me."

"Chicken vegetable ?"

"No."

"Lentil?"

"No."

"Tomato?"

"Yes. Follow Lenart, he'll give you some whites to wear."

My first lesson in big city restaurants: always make cream soups, they hold up better during service. Anyways, I made the soup, got the job, and started down that particular path.

Some months later, Dennis, Linda (the diminutive but spunky night chef), and I were recalling my trial by fire. Linda said, "You were lucky—he poured my first soup into the garbage." 

Dennis said, "No you both were lucky. I once worked for a German chef who, if he didn't like your soup, would pour it out on the floor and leave the room."

There's always someone worse.

So here are a few soups. Thanks to Lara for requesting a tomato soup recipe—this is your basic restaurant version. Milliken/Feniger added the Pernod touch.

Tomato Soup

  • 2 tablespoons butter
  • 1 medium onion, julienned or sliced
  • 1 large fennel bulb (optional) you can also use ½-1 teaspoons fennel seeds
  • 2 teaspoons salt
  • ½ teaspoon white pepper
  • ½ cup Pernod (optional)
  • 2-3 ripe tomatoes, seeded & chopped or 1 can diced-in-juice tomatoes (best quality possible)
  • 2 cups chicken stock
  • ½ cup heavy cream
  • ½ cup half & half
  • Dash of Tabasco

Trim fennel, discarding stem. Thinly slice stalks.

Melt butter over moderate heat in large stockpot or Dutch oven. Add onions and cook with salt and pepper until soft, about 10 minutes. Add fennel, reduce heat to low, cook additional ten minutes.

Add Pernod and reduce liquid by half. Add tomatoes and chicken stock. Reduce to simmer and cook, covered about 20 minutes.

Puree in a blender until smooth. Return to pot and add cream and half and half. Bring to a boil, simmer 5 minutes, remove from heat. Add Tabasco.

Fennel bulb and Pernod are optional. I usually don’t have either so almost always make the soup without. Good quality canned tomatoes are preferred, but I often use regular old grocery store Hunt's. The imported Italian ones are the best but cost plenty more—San Marzano or Muir Glen are both good brands.

Heavy cream and half and half make for a silky delicious soup, but you can substitute less caloric milk for part of the dairy or leave it out and use only stock. Thin to your preference.

Restaurants make many variations on this method for soup of the day, substituting any other vegetable: broccoli, mushroom, spinach, asparagus, potato/leek, squash, beet, carrot, etc.

City Restaurant ashtray, slipped into a pocket. Picture from the blog "100 Miles".
 


Thai Pork Dumpling Soup

Cilantro Pesto:
• 1 bunch chopped cilantro
• 1 tablespoon fresh minced ginger
• 1 tablespoon chopped garlic
• 2 teaspoons ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoons palm or brown sugar
Puree ingredients in blender until smooth.

• ½ # shitake or woodear mushrooms, cleaned and julienne. If using dried, soak until soft, then remove woody stem and slice.

 Pork Dumplings:
• 1 # ground pork
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
 
Combine ingredients and form into 1 inch meatballs.

Soak rice noodles 15 minutes in warm water then drain. Either break noodles into manageable pieces before you soak, or after soaking, cut into pieces with scissors and reserve. 

Brown meatballs, remove from pan. 

Add shitake mushrooms to pan, sauté until soft and remove.

Add the drained, cut noodles to pan, brown, and remove.

Add chicken stock to pan, bring to a boil, turn down to a simmer.

Add meat balls, cook 10 minutes. Add mushrooms and noodles, cook 10 minutes.

Reserving some pesto for garnish, stir remainder of pesto into stock/meatball/noodle/mushroom mixture. Serve with dollop of cilantro pesto and thinly sliced green onions.

This Swiss Onion Soup is a Susan Feniger recipe. I once made it to serve for lunch at City Restaurant and decided (on the sly) to deglaze the pan with wine after sauteing the onions. Susan walked along the line before service, tasting everything as she always did, tried the soup, looked at me and said, "Why did you deglaze the pan with wine? This is Swiss onion soup not French onion soup."

Busted—she has amazing tongue buds

Swiss Onion Soup

1/4 cup unsalted butter
2 medium onions, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon white pepper

4 slices day old white bread or 1/2 loaf French bread, crusts removed

5 cups milk
1/2 # Swiss or gruyere cheese, diced

Melt butter over moderate heat in a Dutch oven. Cook onions with salt and pepper until soft but not colored, 15 minutes.

Cut the bread into medium dice and add to the pot. Stir constantly for five minutes or until the bread absorbs the butter.

Add milk and bring to boil. Add cheese, stir, and reduce to simmer. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, for 1 hour.

P.S. I still like the soup better if you deglaze the pan with white wine after you saute the onions.

Dahlia Lounge




Crab Gumbo

• 2 diced carrots
• 2 celery stalks, diced
• 2 onions, diced
• 1 green pepper, diced
• 1 red pepper, diced
• 2 sliced leeks
• 1 potato, diced

• 2 T. garlic
• 2 t. thyme
• 1 t. oregano
• 1 t. basil
• 2 t. paprika
• 1 t. cayenne
• 1 t. dry mustard

• 1 can diced-in-juice tomatoes
• 4 cups chicken stock

Brown Roux:
½ c. oil 
½ c. flour
Heat oil until smoking, add flour. Have ingredients and utensils lined up before you start. This is a dangerous process, and the chances of getting “lava” burns are extreme, so take care. When the oil is hot, add flour and start whisking. The goal of a dark brown roux will probably take 5-10 minutes to achieve. Roux can be made ahead.

Gumbo:
Sauté vegetables, herbs, and spices in oil. Add garlic—sauté.

Add tomatos and simmer for ten minutes. Add stock and bring to a boil, turn down to simmer.

Add brown roux, a spoon at a time until desired thickness is achieved. Let simmer for 45 minutes. Add cleaned crab before serving and garnish with red pepper rouille.




A marshmallow world: Turkey noodle soup and cornbread

Last night, the snow-mongers breathlessly predicted 4-10 inches of snow today. They've been wrong before, but this time they delivered a winter wonderland as promised. Snow brings such quiet to the neighborhood, a quiet made even more silent by the lack of action on the sidewalks and the streets: the occasional reluctant dog walker, a ruddy-cheeked young couple out for an adventure, and Bob—never one to miss his morning walk.

Who knew that just down the block, Maria and Jim were building a day-glo igloo, ready for occupancy by morning's end. Most commuters have gratefully excepted the weather wizards advise to stay home and are hunkered down with a bowl of soup, a good book, a video game, a movie, or some other acceptable indoor recreation. It's not fit for man nor beast out there today.

It is, however, a perfect day to make soup and bake bread. As I'm not much of a baker, I'll stick with soup.


Turkey Noodle Soup

Put cooked turkey bones, neck, wing tips, and tail in a tall heavy-bottomed stock pot. Cover with cold water. Add large pieces of celery, one onion cut into quarters, two carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks, one or two bay leaves, a sprinkle of thyme, and a small handful of peppercorns. Bring to a boil, turn down immediately and simmer until bones are soft and easily separated—probably 2-3 hours.

Turn off, let cool for 15 minutes, then strain. Any turkey meat cooked that long is not be worth saving. Bring broth back to a simmer, salt to taste, skim to remove as much fat as possible, and let broth reduce at a medium simmer for 15 minutes.

Add fresh diced carrots, celery, onion and, if you're willing to spare some, leftover mashed potatoes, gravy, and dressing make stellar additions. Simmer for 15-20 minutes or until vegetables are done. 

Add cooked noodles and diced or shredded turkey meat.

Cornbread

  • 3 eggs
  • 3 c. sour cream
  • 1/3 c. oil
  • 2 ¼ c. cornmeal
  • 2 t. salt
  • 2 T. sugar
  • 1 t. baking powder
  • 6 diced serranos
  • 1 bunch sliced green onions
  • 1 ½ c. shredded cheddar cheese

Mix eggs, sour cream and oil. Add cornmeal, salt, sugar, baking powder—mix only until combined. Fold in serranos, green onions and cheese.

Bake 20 minutes in 350° oven.


Oh yes, I'm missing those surfer dudes now.


Which is better, number 1?



Or number 2?



Number 1?



or number 2?



Number 1?



or number 2?



Number 1?



or number 2?



We do love a good season.

Out of the dark, into the light: Semi-Sicilian Menu

 

"The winter solstice occurs exactly when the axial tilt of Earth's polar hemisphere is farthest away from the sun." For centuries, rituals, festivals, and holidays marked the resurgence of the winter Sun. Stonehenge is thought to provide a portal to view the sunset of the year's shortest day. In 46 BC, Julius Caesar established the Julian calendar and set December 25 as the day of the European winter solstice. Pagans, worldwide, once gathered to banish the cold and celebrate being halfway to the warmth of the longest day.

Not wanting to ignore centuries-old traditions, we have a little soiree the day before Martin Luther King Day to celebrate the return of the light. By the middle of January, the gradual lenthening of the day is a certainty. I don't turn the living room lamps on until 4:45 or so, the City of Tacoma's hideous orange day-glo street lights don't go on until 5:00, the sun rises spectacularly between 7:00 and 7:15 am, and grape hyacinths pop up, brashly ignoring the 30 degree nights.

We skipped last years' event so are really ready this year with a Semi Sicilian-based menu. Years ago I watched Mario Batali make arancini and planned everything around that memory. I found the recipe he used, added several dishes I'd made successfully before and eventually went with the menu below. I thought I was the first to know about arancini. Imagine my surprise when I saw them for sale both at Costco and Trader Joes. Once again, I'm the last to know.

BTW, I'm almost sure Costo's or TJ'swould be as good as mine and certainly easier. For heaven sakes, Batali's recipe starts with, "6 1/2 cups leftover risotto." Really?? Leftover risotto?

ANTIPASTO  PLATE
ARANCINI WITH TOMATO SAUCE
BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP WITH SAGE CROUTONS
TUSCAN BREAD SALAD
SICILIAN CHICKEN CANZANESE
ORZO WITH SPINACH
MANGO PANNA COTTA

Winter solstice, courtesy of Flickr


 
My friend Jim's picture of a 2011 December sunset in Grayland, WA


Sunrise off Lake Superior, December 2010


December sunset in La Jolla CA, 2007



Here are the recipes I used for the sort of Sicilian menu. All are fairly easy and more than tasty. The mango panna cotta is a real keeper.

Roasted Pepper Salad:

  • 2 red bell peppers
  • 2 orange bell pepper
  • 1/3 cup pitted kalamata olives, thinly sliced
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons drained capers
  • 6 fresh basil leaves, chopped
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the broiler. Cover a heavy baking sheet with foil. Arrange the bell peppers on the baking sheet. Broil until the skins brown and blister, turning the peppers over occasionally, about 15 minutes. Enclose the peppers in a resealable plastic bag. Set aside until cooled to room temperature, about 20 minutes.

Peel, seed, and cut the peppers into 1/2-inch thick strips. Toss the pepper strips, olives, oil, capers, basil, garlic, salt, and pepper in a medium bowl to combine. Cover and refrigerate up to 2 days.

Tuscan white bean spread

  • 2 15 oz cans white beans, rinsed and drained
  • 2 teaspoons coarse sea salt (Fleur de sel)- or to taste
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
  • 2 tablespoons water
  • 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
  • roasted garlic
  • 1 tablespoon flat leaf parsley
  • 1 tablespoon fresh Rosemary
  • 1 tablespoon fresh Thyme

Place all ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and blend until smooth. Serve with sliced French baguettes or grilled pita bread

ARANCINI 
(Worked just fine to fry in the morning, keep at room temperature, and reheat in a 350 degree oven ten minutes before serving.)
 

  • 6 cups pre-cooked rice (leftover risotto works well or even leftover plain rice from take-out)
  • 2 eggs, plus 4 eggs separated
  • 1 cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano or Parmesan, plus more for grating
  • Pinch of red chile flakes, plus more to taste
  • 1 bunch mint coarsely chopped, leaves and stems and all, 2 tablespoons reserved for garnish
  • 1 pound fresh mozzarella cheese, cut into small cubes
  • 2 cups panko or breadcrumbs for coating
  • oil for frying
  • Salt, to taste

Place the cooked rice in a large mixing bowl. Add 2 whole eggs and 4 egg yolks. Then mix in pecorino, sea salt, chile flakes and mint. Set the egg whites aside.

After ingredients are thoroughly mixed, form into 2.5” to 3” diameter balls, filling center of balls with several pieces of cheese (or any other filling of your choosing).

In each of 3 shallow bowls, place flour, egg whites and breadcrumbs. Whisk the egg whites briefly to loosen them. Roll each ball in egg whites, then in breadcrumbs. Place balls on a tray, and refrigerate uncovered for one hour.

Heat 4 inches of olive oil in a deep fryer or a pot to 350 F. CAUTION – don't fill pot above two thirds full.

Carefully place 3 balls at a time into pot and fry until golden brown, about 3 to 4 minutes, stirring with a kitchen spoon to keep them moving.

Using a spider or a slotted spoon, drain cooked balls on paper towels. Serve hot or at room temperature. Finish with grated pecorino cheese, chile flakes and mint.

Chicken Canzanese

  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 2 ounces prosciutto (1/4 inch thick), cut into 1/4-inch cubes (bacon is a less expensive alternative)
  • 4 medium garlic cloves , sliced thin lengthwise
  • 8 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (about 3 pounds)
  • Ground black pepper
  • 2 teaspoons unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 2 cups dry white wine
  • 1 cup chicken broth
  • 4 whole cloves
  • 1(4-inch) sprig fresh rosemary , leaves removed and minced fine (about 1/2 teaspoon), stem reserved
  • 12 whole fresh sage leaves
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 1/4-1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
  • Juice from 1 lemon
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Heat 1 teaspoon oil in 12-inch heavy-bottomed oven-safe skillet over medium heat until shimmering. Add prosciutto and cook, stirring frequently, until just starting to brown, about 3 minutes. Add garlic slices and cook, stirring frequently, until garlic is golden brown, about 1½ minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer garlic and prosciutto to small bowl and set aside. Do not rinse pan.

Increase heat to medium-high; add remaining 2 teaspoons oil and heat until just smoking. Pat chicken dry with paper towels and season with ground black pepper. Add chicken, skin side down, and cook without moving until well browned, 5 to 8 minutes. Using tongs, turn chicken and brown on second side, about 5 minutes longer. Transfer chicken to large plate.

Remove all but 2 tablespoons fat from pan. Sprinkle flour over fat and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 minute. Slowly add wine and broth; bring to simmer, scraping bottom of pan with wooden spoon to loosen browned bits. Cook until liquid is slightly reduced, 3 minutes. Stir in cloves, rosemary stem, sage leaves, bay leaves, red pepper flakes, and reserved prosciutto and garlic. Nestle chicken into liquid, skin side up (skin should be above surface of liquid), and bake, uncovered, until meat offers no resistance when poked with fork but is not falling off bones, about 1 hour 15 minutes. (Check chicken after 15 minutes; broth should be barely bubbling. If bubbling vigorously, reduce oven temperature to 300 degrees.)

Using tongs, transfer chicken to serving platter and tent with foil. Remove and discard sage leaves, rosemary stem, cloves, and bay leaves. Place skillet over high heat and bring sauce to boil. Cook until sauce is reduced to 1¼ cups, 2 to 5 minutes. Off heat, stir in minced rosemary, lemon juice, and butter. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Pour sauce around chicken and serve.

Mango Panna Cotta:

  • 1/4 cup whole milk
  • 1 cup mango pulp
  • 1 tablespoon unflavored powdered gelatin
  • 3 cups heavy cream
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • Pinch of salt

Mango Sauce: 

  • 1/2 cup mango pulp
  • 1/4 cup sugar
  • 1 tablespoon lime juice


Panna Cotta:
 
Place the milk, gelatin and mango puree in a blender. Blend until smooth.
Pour milk mixture into a small pan and stir over medium heat, about 5 minutes.
 
Add the cream, sugar, and salt. Stir until the sugar dissolves, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove from the heat.
 
Pour into 6 glasses or ramekins so that they are about 1/2 full. Refrigerate until set, at least 4 hours. Spoon the mango sauce on top and serve.

Mango sauce:

Place all the ingredients in a small sauce pan and cook stirring often for about 10 minutes or until a syrup consistency.






 

Santa Cruz Nice

Now, when someone mentions Santa Cruz, I too will get that soft, smiley look on my face. I felt at home here from the start. Santa Cruz has that Vashon Island feel: a slower pace, a distinct local culture, plenty of small funky houses, an active art scene, and coffee on every corner. The difference between the two is more a case of addition than subtraction. Santa Cruz has surfer dudes, bare legs/feet, sunny days, lots more restaurants, off-kilter residents who are inclined to rant, gesture, and mumble, and a bus system that takes them and you anywhere.

Last year we were in Minnesota expecting to feel and see that "Minnesota Nice"...didn't happen for me. But here in Santa Cruz, every expedition I took out the door provided another example of California courtesy.

One day on my way to the beach, a bicycle-riding, ranting, gesturing, tattered man rode by shouting at me. Following Bob's instructions to "never make eye contact", I just walked along and ignored him. Walking toward me, a tall, young man asked, "Is that man bothering you? Don't pay any attention to him, he has issues" and waited with me until the ranter was down the block.

Regardless of age, religion, gender, race, sexual persuasion, or political party, every time I entered a crosswalk, busy car traffic stopped, made eye contact, and gestured for me to walk on through, then smiled. Now before we get all warm and fuzzy about Santa Cruzarians: also without exception, anyone on a bicycle, skateboard, in-line skates, or scooter completely ignored me and whizzed perilously by, without warning. Apparently they aren't required to sign the pledge.

Anyways, I loved Pie Ranch, Sunny Cove, the Aloha Island Grill, Gayle's Bakery, East Cliff Drive, Capitola Village, Mr. Kebab, the Fairfield Inn housekeepers, the Museum of Art and History, the #55 bus, the New Leaf Organic Grocery, the Pleasure Point surfers, Half Moon Bay, fish tacos at Johnny's Harborside, and walking in the sunshine.

So we've returned to the Northwest—back to winter, rain, and home. We've been catching up with family, visiting with our neighbors, sorting through the mail, sleeping in our own bed, cooking meals, washing clothes without scrounging quarters, and looking out more than one window. Bob misses the hot tub, I miss ice cubes at the end of the hall, clean sheets three times a week, sunny weather, a bus that stops at the front door, a free newspaper, the sweet housekeeping staff, and having no responsibility.

We don't miss the hotel's erratic heating/cooling system, the lack of hot water in the morning, living in one room, eating out, Bob's 4:45 am wake-up call, using the bathroom for a kitchen, or the thump, thump of children running up and down the hall. I'd gladly live in Capitola but certainly don't want to move.


Homes along the Santa Cruz harbor





Santa Cruz Harbor





The Yacht Club on Woods Lagoon




The view from Johnny's Harborside restaurant

 


The following pictures are examples of Santa Cruz weird. Don't know who, why, or what's up with the heads. Cindy, from the Santa Cruz Art League, said the artist who makes them has been populating his roof and windows with different faces for years.

 






The "climbing wall" on the side of a bakery along the harbor



Fried Rice and Fa La La

Last week while eating out with a group of Bob's work friends, the subject of Christmas traditions came up. No one seemed to be a regular church goer, but as the question rounded the table each person had a personal Christmas story to tell.

 

Chris, "My mother is a terrible cook and always resented being stuck in the kitchen all day making Christmas dinner.  One year my middle sister and I took over the stove, forced my mother out, and divvied up the cooking chores. That night, for the first time, our family sat down to  a pleasant—no pans thrown, no yelling—edible meal. She (my mother) has never gone back in."

 

Clementine, "I'm from Jamaica, and every Christmas Eve after midnight mass, we stay up all night drinking sorrel and baking Christmas bread."

 

Audra, "I grew up in a low-country Georgia Gullah community, where every house on the block belongs to a family member—a family member who is a great cook.  So Christmas day is a huge block party with okra soup, fried turkey, oyster pilau, hoppin' John, and sweet potato pie."

 

Fortunately, Bob and I were sitting at the end of the queue. The wheels in my brain whirred as I tried to spin a Hallmark moment. I haven't spent Christmas with my kids since they were little, I usually worked during Christmas, Bob and I have moved regularly and never put down deep community roots, and we've spent the last two holidays in a hotel room...but there had to be something.

 

There was that first year in LA when we took boloney sandwiches, Hershey bars, and boxed wine to the beach; or what about that winter in San Diego with our Cuban renter and his mother; oh and that year with the Fostermiglias when Gretchen fell down the front steps, yes and don't forget that freezing trip from Olympia to Bellingham on Tommy's boat, drinking schnapps to stay warm.

 

Inevitably, it was our turn...all eyes were on Bob.  "Chinese food", he said. "We try to eat Chinese food." I was surprised but managed to blurt out, "You can usually find an open Chinese restaurant or throw together some fried rice."

 

There was a pause in the glow of the moment, but the next storyteller picked it right up and shared a tradition complete with roasting chestnuts, caroling, and trimming the tree.

 

Chinese food on Christmas Day may never merit a card or a song, but believe it or not—it is a tradition. Just Google "Christmas Chinese food" and you'll see. Anyways, now that we had an official Christmas tradition, we were determined to follow through, so this Christmas night, we walked down the street to The Canton. I was prepared for that most dismal of restaurant experiences—eating Christmas dinner in an empty room and, sure enough, when we arrived at 5:00 pm, there was only one other table occupied, but Whoa Nelly! Within fifteen minutes, the place was packed with Blended Families, Romantic Couple, the Young and the Hip, Older Kids with Gramma and Grampa In Tow, Foreign Couple, Quietly Arguing Couple, Distracted Couple with Annoying Child, and a line out the door.

 

We ate our now traditional pot stickers and fried rice, took enough back for the next night's dinner, and called it good—another slightly nicked penny in the memory bank.

I worked at Tom Douglas' original Dahlia Lounge when it opened—fried rice was on the first menu. Leftover vegetables were never used but hey, we're home now. Here's a vague approximation of the Dahlia's fried rice. In my kitchen, it has morphed over the years to include anything that is in the frig: shrimp, pork, chicken, tofu, mushrooms (fresh or re-constituted dried), nappa cabbage, green cabbage, chard, spinach, lettuce, broccoli, carrots, sweet potatoes—and always frozen peas.


Not Very Authentic Fried Rice

  • 1 cup frozen peas
  • Vegetable oil
  • 3 large eggs, lightly beaten
  • Sesame oil
  • 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon dried chili flakes
  • Garlic, finely chopped, amount per preferance
  • Fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped, amount per preference
  • 1 onion, diced
  • Mushrooms
  • ½ pound cooked meat, cubed tofu, or tempeh
  • Salt and pepper
  • 3 scallions, sliced
  • 2 cups raw vegetables—cut approximately to the same size
  • 4 cups cold cooked white rice
  • Flavor blend: 1 part soy sauce or oyster sauce, ½ part rice vinegar, sugar to taste, Chinese chili paste to taste (a little fish sauce wouldn't hurt)

Start out with a bigger pan than you think necessary. You’ll have less flotsam on the stove after you’re done. Cover frozen peas with cold water. When thawed, pour into seive.

Heat wok or a large heavy-bottomed nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. When hot add 1 swirl of the vegetable oil. Scramble eggs until slightly undercooked, remove from pan and set aside.

If you’re using raw meat or shrimp, now’s the time to sauté it—undercook a tad, please. Remove from pan and reserve.

Clean out pan and return to heat. Add 1 tablespoon vegetable oil and 1 tablespoon sesame oil, heat until oil shimmers. Add chili flakes, garlic, ginger, mushrooms, and diced onions. season with salt and pepper, and cook for 1 to 2 minutes until onion is fragrant.

Add raw vegetables: shredded head cabbage, julienned carrots, small broccoli florets, cauliflower, fennel, celery, etc. and sauté to coat with oil. Pour the vinegar/soy sauce mixture over vegetable and cook until your desired softness. If it's too dry, add a bit of water or stock. If you’re using leftover cooked vegetables, add just to heat. Add scallions and cooked meat or tofu to heat.

If you’re using nappa cabbage or spinach, wait until onion/garlic/ginger mixture is finished then fold in and remove from heat.

Now this is the part that would make Tom D. cringe: I just microwave the cooked rice (whether it be brown, Uncle Ben’s, jasmine, basmati, Korean, etc.), put it in a large bowl, add the scrambled eggs and fold in the vegetable mixture. Serve immdiately or make ahead and whack it in the mw.

This is a perfect vehicle for left over anything. You can have Cajun rice (andouille sausage, bell peppers,celery, onion,paprika/thyme/oregano/cayenne), Italian rice (tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, roasted red pepper/pesto/parm), Spanish rice (chorizo, black beans, jalapenos,cumin, chile powder), Hawaiian rice (spam and macaroni). Add the eggs, leave out the eggs—who’ll care? Change the oil and the flavor blend to suit the ingredients—who’ll know?

The Cowabunga Dudes Take Hollywood

FADE IN:

EXT. PLEASURE POINT SANTA CRUZ CALIFORNIA - DAY

Bright blue skies, large puffy clouds, early winter sunshine. 4-6' surf. Semi-clean, warbly lines as tide drops. Workable corners but mostly soft/shouldery with some decent sets showing.
                                                        
                 LONG SHOT:

EXT. WATER BELOW OVERLOOK - DAY

Thirty or so surfers sit on their boards waiting for the next set of waves.

            PAN TO:

EXT. BEACH OVERLOOK WITH WAIST-HIGH WOODEN RAIL - DAY

A mixed crowd of fifty or so—young, old, hip, straight, some on bikes, some on skateboards, some with dogs, some with strollers—gather on the overlook of a rocky beach and watch the surfers below.
 


Film equipment covers the small parking lot across the street from the overlook.  Crew members wander around—some with clipboards, some eating burritos, some wearing headphones, all looking down at their devices.




DUDE and BRO, two mid-teen surfers in wetsuits, stand off to the side with rented longboards under their arms.

BRO, short, chunky teen in billed wetsuit. Turns to DUDE

BRO

(impatiently)

I told you they were filming today! We shoulda' been lined up at dawn patrol!!! We problie so missed our chance to be in a shot!!!



DUDE, tall, thin teen board under his arm.

DUDE
(angrily)

Don't blow your squeaker, Bro!! My ears are plugged, I have a chode burn on my butt, and my knees are like totally blown out—gimme a friggin' break!! You shoulda' lemme rack more ZZs, I got hell munched yesterday!!

BRO
(obliviously)

Dude, check it!! That grey who took a sand facial lives to tell!! Shhhhway!! The legend got thrashed—he's totally wack!!!!




DUDE

Let’s walk down and line up.

STAIRS LEADING DOWN TO THE WATER BELOW

EXT: CALM WATER FULL OF SURFERS SITTING ON THEIR BOARDS - DAY

Dude and Bro walk down the stairs to the water, get in, paddle out, and join the line up. They sit on their boards waiting for the next set, talking.



BRO
(woundedly)

The Barbie like totally gave me the stink-eye—that's like effin' schwag!! I was like, whoa Emma chillax!!!



DUDE
(glumly but with determination)

Bro, I'm so bleak after that flat spell. Gotta carve this Macker comin' up so the camera dude will notice me.










BRO
(wryly)

Ka-Biff!! Dude, that was a real whoopsydangit!!


DUDE
(off-handedly)

Who cares Bro...anyways our vacay is over tomorrow so it's back to Fargo.


BRO
(defiantly)

Dude, I'm so over North Dakota!!! I'm stayin' here. The camera kahuna said there might be a grunt job for the January re-shoot in Half Moon Bay. Tell my Mom I said Hi. And please, feed my fish.

 

 




There's no free lunch, but there may be free coffee: Russian tea cakes

My mother made Christmas cookies every year: Russian Tea Cakes, lemon bars, Spritz cookies, and frosted sugar cookies shaped like stars, snowmen (Those were the days before the gender discussion), Christmas trees (Those were also the days when elementary schools had Christmas programs), and bells. My favorites were the frosted sugar cookies. You could always tell which ones Ginny and I made—they were the slightly grey ones with mauve frosting and layers of multi-colored sprinkles. It's been years since I've baked cookies—Oh I've rolled a few Snickerdoodles but my skills as a baker are minimal.

My friend Sandy said that Capitola was her favorite spot. Her daughter Nancy said not to miss Gayle's, so I hopped on the #55 bus and rode down the hill, past the lagoon, through Capitola Village, and up Bay Avenue to Gayle's Bakery. I was unprepared for the pandemonium inside.

The parking lot was calm enough, but once in the door, mayhem ensued. People crowded up against the counter, tickets in hand, waving their arms and hooraying once their number was called. A young man, with microphone (glad it wasn't a megaphone), called out a number, the lucky winner stepped up triumphantly, gave their order, collected their food, and paid.

I just wanted lunch, so I beat a hasty retreat to a quiet, outside room with tables expecting "Wait to be seated". It was soon obvious that no one was in charge out there, so I took a deep breath, went back in, and asked a kind looking lady what the rules were. She said, "Get a ticket, crowd up to the deli counter, decide what you want, and be ready to order when they call your number."

The deli counter wrapped halfway around the room and was full of beef roasts, whole hams, turkey breasts, salami, hot dishes, macaroni and cheese, ready-made sandwiches, side salads, pizza slices, short ribs, chicken wings, and much, much more. The bakery counter was as long, with shelves of cookies, tarts, rolls, cakes, pies, petit fours, cream horns, croissants, and brioche. I choose something, anything, and headed for the rear of the room to wait for my call.

Lunch in hand, now I needed water. The beverage bar was down at the other end of the room with self-serve coffee, tea, water, and fountain drinks. Mmmm, coffee smells really good...look over at the counter melee. Do I really want to re-enter the crush to pay for a cup of coffee? No way. So I owe Gayle's $1.75, which I most certainly will pay. The sandwich was good, the broccoli salad was good (but not as good as Lara's), and the co-opted coffee, great. I shamelessly had a refill.

Russian Tea Cakes

1 cup butter, slightly softened
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 1/4 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
3/4 cup chopped pecans

Cream butter and sugar. Add flour, salt, vanilla, and chopped nuts. Form into 1 inch balls.

Bake for fourteen minutes in a 400 degree oven.

Roll in powdered sugar while hot. Let cool, roll in powdered sugar again.




















Neighborhood around Gayle's







Elvis has not left this building




Capitola Village




Soquel Creek Lagoon






The view from the bus: Baked artichoke dip

I'm back on the #68 bus from Capitola to Santa Cruz. I was waiting at the Santa Cruz Metro Center for my ride back to Capitola, when a couple walked by. The man said, "They should do something about this place—it's a disaster!" The man sitting next to me shrugged and said, "What do you expect, it's a bus terminal."

I must agree—I don't think I've ever spent time in an attractive bus center. During one of our long "rides" around the country, Bob and I waited for a bus in the downtown Minneapolis transit center from 10:30 pm to 5:00 am. It was February, it was dark and cold, the terminal was deserted, and no one was in charge. The doors were locked from the inside to keep out the homeless and the transients who, needless to say, all wanted in. They came by regularly, pounded on the doors, and shouted, "Let us in!!" We didn't, and felt bad.

You see a different scene out the window when you're riding on the bus. Just walk a couple blocks from the Santa Cruz "disaster" and you'll find charming boutiques, high-end clothing stores, cozy coffee bars, and festive holiday lighting. Closer to the terminal are the bail bonds, tattoo parlors, and community outreach centers.

Santa Cruzarians certainly have style. Living here must either force or allow people to be unique. This is a land of strange hats, unexpected bare legs, unusual bags for both men and women, fashionable footwear, colorful scarves, and an abundance of hair. Capitola leans more toward the beachy look: surfer dudeness, baggy shorts, hoodies, flip flops, skateboard attire, and bare feet. (What is it with surfers and no shoes? They can walk over gravel with nary a wince.)

Anyways, it's delightful here. I love being able to walk out the door and know that I'll see something unusual. I had a grand time at the Santa Cruz Community Farmer's Market. Open all year round, the seasonal offerings included artichokes, Meyer lemons, canned tomatoes, fresh figs, oysters, honey, and much much more. It would bring a tear to the eye of any locavore.

Baked Artichoke Dip

  • two fourteen oz. cans drained artichoke hearts in water
  • 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
  • 1/2 cup cream cheese
  • 1 tablespoon mayonnaise
  • 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon Tabasco
  • 1 teaspoon garlic salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper


Put drained artichoke hearts, Parmesan cheese, cream cheese, mayonnaise, lemon juice, Tabasco, salt, and pepper in food processor. Pulse four or five times, or until mixtures is chunkily smooth. Spoon mixture into baking dish.

Bake in a 375 degree oven for about 20 minutes or until golden brown.


Downtown Santa Cruz building mural







Street musicians






He was being very good...




He was in a time out.




Local artist, Nick Craig's work in progress




Area produce sold at Santa Cruz Community Farmers Market








A-Frame, a sign of the times

In the early 90s, I read a review of Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential, a tell-all, behind-the-scenes look at life in a restaurant kitchen, and immediately bought the book. It is a graphic, profane tale of what goes on behind the swinging doors of high-end restaurants. What I'd been experiencing during my own professional cooking career was being discussed and verified in vivid black and white.

Bad boy chefs are now the rage—cursing, throwing things, and berating the staff, right there on your family TV. Chefs behaved like that  in the 80s and 90s, and have probably since roadside inns began serving food to travelers in the 16th century. When I was growing up in the Midwest, restaurants were family-owned places that served the locals, nation-wide chains like Denny's or IHOP, taverns that offered bar food along with tap beer, or drive-ins. My how things have changed.

In 1982, Wolfgang Puck left Ma Maison, opened Spago on Sunset Strip in Los Angeles, and introduced diners to gourmet pizzas, spit-roasted game, artisan cheese, and baby vegetables. Along with his inventive menus came fresh flowers on the tables, artwork on the walls, hip wait staffs, open kitchens, creative restaurant designs, and of course, higher prices. Today, Wolfgang Puck is an industry selling frozen dinners, cookware, clothing, and airport food. Spago was the first of a long list of expensive, A-list, Los Angeles eateries serving fusion food, ethnic dishes, California and novelle cuisine with hard-to-get reservations.

The baton has been passed to a new breed of restaurant chefs who are once again bringing innovation into the restaurant world. David Chang turns away customers who line up every night to eat fried chicken, kimchi burritos, or pulled pork buns at one of his four New York eateries. In 2009, Roy Choi and Mark Manguera started selling Korean sliders, spicy pork tacos, and kimchi quesadillas from their food truck, Kogi, and started a nationwide craze. Last year the not to be missed venues in LA were flash mob restaurants that popped up one night and were gone the next. The new breed of restaurants is heavily dependent on social media—Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr—to keep the hungry mobs informed as where to queue up.

The new restaurant paradigm seems to be casual, no boundaries, calorie-packed food that everyone loves to eat. When Bob and I were in Los Angeles last month, my only must-eat place was Roy Choi's A-Frame, a renovated International House of Pancakes site on Washington Boulevard in Culver City. We got there at five minutes before the 5:00 opening, and by the time we left at 6:00 it was packed. The menu shows no sign of Mrs. Obama's push toward healthy eating. We ordered the-best-beercan chicken-I-ever-ate, sweet potato fries with garlic aioli, shrimp tempura with dipping sauce, roasted lamb, and finished (believe it or not) with pound cake cinnamon churros, malted chocolate milk and vanilla ice cream. We consumed the calorie intake of a hockey team but left with big smiles on our faces. This dinner was not cheap, but neither was it a gasper. The experience was high on expectations, low on pretension, and very satisfying.

A-Frame



Outdoor patio




Dining room



Shrimp tempura



Cinnamon churros with malted milk and ice cream




A Tale of Three Thanksgivings: Grasshopper Pie

http://youtu.be/JmyXTOHC3w8

The week before Thanksgiving, advise/manners columns address the issue of too-many-guests-at-the-table. 

To wit: 
Dear Wiser-than-I, "I can accept a plus-one, but why does he/she have to bring his/her boyfriend, in-laws, roommate, weird cousin, bus buddy, dog, dentist, etc. to the family table? I don't have enough forks, chairs, food, napkin rings, bathrooms, monogrammed place-cards, sterling, etc. for that many."

For Pete's sake, just scooch over!  

On my "Family Favorites" menu bar, there are three Holiday tables: one on the East coast and two on the West coast. In Washington state, my sisters man the Thanksgiving table. Ginny hosts, provides the turkey plus connected dishes, her husband Ron pulls wine from his cellar (we're talking a literal cellar here), and sister Nikki is "Pie Lady". The children are old enough to contribute. Strictly speaking family, we were looking at three plus Claire, the daughter and Grasshopper Pie maker (when she can make the trip from Bend). Thursday, eighteen plus a baby were seated—no one brought their dog. The table was stretched, assignments  doled out, chairs borrowed, tablecloths shaken, and general merriment ensued. It took a full day to recover.

On the East coast, my daughter Bridget and daughter-in-law Lara are Moms in charge. They peel, roast, bake, simmer, mash, until the cows come home. Lara's mom bakes her world famous (and star of the show) dinner rolls (No, there will not be a recipe included—some things you just don't share). Bridget's mother-in-law, maker of that fab Mississippi Mud Pie, brings Southern sides that Paula Dean would covet. The six kids are of indeterminate help. Louie (my favorite dog) observes the ongoing chaos with head on paws and one raised eyebrow. Lucy (my favorite Bichon terrier) waits longingly at Lara's feet hoping to be picked up. The nuke-fam count: a whopping seventeen. This Thanksgiving their table sat twenty-three. Everyone just scooched over, for heaven's sake! It took a full day to recover.

In California this year, Lori V. fried three turkeys, Sandy Mom-of-all things meglia, prepared enough sides for Pittsburg, Bob dad of the Fosters bought the prime rib of your dreams, and I bought gravy and rolls (note the bought). The kids are of indeterminate help. Come turkey time the true blood Fostermiglias numbered twelve, the interlopers (including Bob and me) expanded the table count to seventeen people (plus two resident dogs and two visiting dogs). Again, for goodness sake, everyone just scooched!  BTY, it took a full day to recover. 

Anyways, even though the California table did not take the traditional "what I'm grateful for" table survey, I was ready just in case. I'm grateful for having women in my life who are willing, able and gracious enough to create opportunities for so many people to remember life at its fullest. They accept strangers to the table and everyone scooches over to expand the circle—Thanksgiving at its finest.

Grasshopper Pie

Crust:
1 1/2 cups (one box Anna's Chocolate Cookies)
3 tablespoons sugar
4 tablespoons butter

Filling:
24 marshmallows
1/2 cup milk
4 tablespoons Creme de Menthe or 2 teaspoons mint flavoring and a few drops green food coloring
2 tablespoons Creme de Cacao
1 cup heavy cream

Grind cookies in food processor.  Combine crumbs with sugar. Mix in melted butter. Pat into pie crust and refrigerate. 

Melt marshmallows in milk and cool. Stir in Creme de Menthe and Creme de Cacoa or mint flavoring.

Whip heavy cream to soft peaks—don't overbeat. Fold whipped cream into marshmallow mixture. Refrigerate at least two hours before serving. 

Washington Thanksgiving moms




The Eastcoast table (missing two Moms)



The California Table (sorry, you'll have to view it upside down. I tried everything.)