I've never lived alone—went from my Dad's house, to a dorm room, to a husband's house. During the 1990's, Bob was intermittently on the road, but I worked five days a week, Muth was next door, and Ginny was down the street, so life moved right along. This time home, even at 850 sq. feet, home seems too big and the days are strangely unstructured. I am, however, finding small things that are positive: the bathroom wastebasket seldom needs emptying, I don't run out of Diet Coke, I wash clothes only once a week, Bob's desk is clean, and the refrigerator is remarkably empty. So far I don't have much of a rhythm to my day but maybe that will evolve. Haven't begun my makeover yet—no twice-a-day cycling, volunteering, or pursuit of higher education but I am getting the hang of the remote control and may get my hair cut short.

I've been cooking once a week—starting out with brown rice/pinto beans/yams/sun-dried tomato/Mexican hard cheese pilaf and grilled chicken thighs drenched in Louisiana Buffalo Wing Sauce. Tomorrow I'm going to the Ethnic Fest  at Wright Park in Tacoma and will be on the lookout for pupusas —but a good Mexican torta will do.

I'm telling you—give this grilled chicken dipped in wing sauce a try—it's easy, tasty, and cheap. Maybe everyone else already cooks this and I'm just the last to know. Maybe even grilled tofu dipped in hot wing sauce—you never know.

Grilled chicken thighs with Buffalo Wing Sauce

Season unboned chicken thighs with salt, pepper, a spicy rub of your choice and let them sit for 1 hour. If you have no rub, try a combination of cumin, chili powder or paprika, chipotle pepper, lemon pepper, and garlic powder or garlic salt. Rub a little oil (olive or vegetable) over the chicken before grilling and cook over medium heat, skin side down for 6-7  minutes or until the skin is crisp. Turn and cook for 5 minutes on the other side. If you like your chicken cooked longer, feel free.

Pour Buffalo Wing Sauce in a bowl—enough to cover the number of thighs grilled. Remove chicken from the grill and place in sauce, turning to coat. Let sit for 10 minutes and serve. The excess sauce is tasty on the rice or served over the chicken.

Rice, yams, & black beans

1 cup white long-grain rice
1 cups water
1 tsp. salt

1/2# chorizo (either the softer hamburger-like Mexican kind or the hard sausage-like Spanish kind will do)
1/2 onion, fine dice
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 Tbs. chopped sun-dried tomatoes
Oregano, coriander, cumin

1/2 sweet potato, peeled, diced, and steamed
1/2 can black beans, drained & rinsed
Chopped fresh cilantro
Mexican cotija (hard) cheese

Rinse rice until water runs clear. Cover with water and soak for 30 minutes. Bring 1 cup water to a boil. Add salt & rice. Stir to combine. Turn down to simmer and cook 25 minutes. Take off heat and let it sit, covered five minutes. Spred out on a sheet pan to cool.

Sauté onion, chorizo, garlic, and sun-dried tomato in hot oil. Add cumin, oregano, coriander. Sauté on medium-low heat until onions and garlic are soft and cooked through.

Fold chorizo/onion/spice mix, yams, black beans, chopped cilantro, and Mexican cheese into cooked rice. Season to taste.

  

Bob's off for a six-month stint doing stand-up at Los Angeles' s Cedars Sinai—medical software training, that is. Sooo guess who is home alone again. This time I'm going to do better—ride my Lifecycle more than once a day, make contact with strangers, volunteer, learn to knit, rock babies, read to orphans, get an on-line degree in design, clean out the closets, and cook for my self. No more moping, watching bad TV, or eating beans out of the can. There, now that I've said it out loud, I'll have to follow through.

I first cooked to please the man in my life (besides, back in the day there was only eating in), then to make a living, and only in the past fifteen years have I cooked with a sense of adventure and pleasure. But...still I cook to please. I've listed in print all the condiments, cupboards, and utensils it takes to make up my kitchen. So what does a newly single, career cook pull out of the pantry when she's only filling one plate?  

Cold noodles sound good, brown rice/yogurt/salsa might do, broccoli with sesame oil, perhaps cauliflower and parmesan cheese, how about a big quinoa/cucumber/tomato salad?? Whatever it is, it will be of a sufficient quantity to last for at least three days. For now, I have leftover steak, some white bean/sage/garlic spread, noodles and tofu, and an entire loaf of Dave's Killer Bread. That should keep me going for at least a week.

Anyways, this is my new life—sweet Bob available only via email, texting, or phoning. So if I show up at your front door, don't be surprised.

  

Well my blog traffic was not remarkably high for the strawberry shortcake, oh well. Anyways, here's a few more for the rest of those Fourth of July strawberries. Either would be stellar at a fireworks event. Bob and I are motoring down south to see Patty and Jim over the big weekend. Hope the traffic is not newsworthy.

Strawberry Rhubarb Custard Pie

TOPPING:
• ¼ cup brown sugar
• 1/3 cup flour
• ¼ cup cold butter, cut into pieces
Mix brown sugar and flour—cut in cold butter pieces. Reserve.
CUSTARD FILLING:
• 3 eggs
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1 3/4 cup sugar
• 1/3 cup sifted all-purpose flour

• 1 ½ cups rhubarb, cut into 1” pieces
• 1 ½ cups strawberries, washed, hulled and halved

Beat eggs slightly with milk in large bowl. Stir in sugar and flour. Fold in rhubarb and strawberries.
Pour into prepared 9” pastry shell, sprinkle topping on fruit/custard mix.

Bake in 400-degree oven for 1 hour. Serve with ice cream or whipped cream.

Strawberry Pie (Makes 1 9” pie)

• 4# strawberries, stems removed
• ½ cup sugar/1/4 cup Splenda
• ¼ cup water
• 1 envelope unflavored gelatin or 1 Tbs. strawberry jello

Place 3 cups of the strawberries (use the smallest and least attractive ones) and the sugar in a food processor and process for 10-20 seconds. Transfer mixture to a saucepan. Add water. Bring to boil over high heat and boil about 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and pour into a large bowl.

Add the gelatin and stir with whisk until gelatin is dissolved. Set aside to cool.

Arrange the reserved strawberries, stem side down, in cooked pie crust, stem ends down and in circles with the largest berries in the center, then use the smaller berries. For the outer circle, cut berries in half lengthwise and arrange cut side down with tips pointing outward. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Ladle cooled strawberry/gelatin sauce over top of pie. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

  

One of the advantages of paying to post my blog on Go-Daddy.com is the use of their Statistics tool. My followers are minimal but I still love to sneak a look at how many hits I get during the week. I can also see year-to-year statistic: my 2010 readership is up! But what really blows my mind is that the highest number of entry views happened during the summer months in 2009 when I wasn't adding any new posts. What does that mean? Apparently I get more traffic when I don't write anything.

Or it could be strawberries. The highest viewed entry was "Short Shorts: Strawberry Shortcake." So not being one to buck a trend, here comes another strawberry post. We'll just see who shows up. And just a footnote to those of you who have been paying attention: on Bravo's Top Chef Masters  Susan Feniger was told to "pack your knives" and go home. I didn't catch that particular episode, so I don't know what her indiscretion was but there are now just the three egos: Marcus Samuelson, Susor Lee, and Rick Noonan.

Back to strawberries. Rumor was that Picha Farms  in Puyallup was berry close to selling the red, juicy ones. A quick trip past the fields last Saturday proved fruitless, so to speak, but just a week later we returned home with stained hands and red spotted clothes—the marks of a successful trip. Now comes the baking, the slicing, the jamming, and the shortcaking.










Anyways, here's my latest attempt at flaky, tender shortcakes; although you can always fall back on store-bought pound cake. So if my numbers go up, we'll know it's the strawberries and squeeze in a rhubarb/strawberry pie: hmm, how about a custardy one?

Strawberry Shortcake (Alton Brown)

• 2 cups flour
• 4 teaspoons baking powder
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 6 tablespoons butter 
• 1 cup half and half, cream, buttermilk, or a combination 
• Melted butter to brush on and sprinkly sugar for the tops
 
Heat oven 400 degrees.

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. Cut in butter and shortening. Mix in half-and-half.

Drop by large spoonfuls onto a baking sheet. Brush with melted butter and sprinkle with sugar.
Bake for 15 minutes or until brown. Cool and eat with berries, ice cream and/or whipped cream. Yields 8 biscuits.

And because this blog is truly just an excuse to pass along my ongoing favorite music; here's one from the Subdudes I've played so many times it's drilled itself into my brain.

P.S. Another Top Chef Masters update: since I checked in last, Marcus Samuelson won this year's contest.

  

 

 

This Sunday is Father's Day but I have no Dad to shop for. I usually forget Daddy's birthday, but I always think of him on Father's Day. C.A. Nichols (Nick) was a tallish, gentle, cigar-smoking, baseball fan and a Ma Bell company man for over twenty-five years. He was kind to strangers, reluctant to criticize, and slow to anger.

In fact the only time I can remember a show of temper from him happened during a Sioux City Soos' baseball game. Daddy, little Ginny and I were sitting in front of a rowdy bunch of Midwestern good-ole-boys who had belted back one too many Schlitzs. They started riding the hapless pitcher, describing each errant ball with smokin' words Ginny and I had never heard before.

After a few innings Daddy stood up, turned around, and told the offenders, "Please don't swear in front of my family", then sat back down. They snickered and let loose with some good ones. Daddy stood up again and asked, in a somewhat firmer voice, "Would you like to settle this in the parking lot?". Ginny and I weren't sure what this entailed, but we knew that it wasn't good. The hecklers must have recognized the look of a man who'd been pushed too far and moved over a section.

During the recent graduation trip to Knoxville, I attended my yearly church service and sat next to my son Jon. The best part of church is the songs—I Come to the Garden, What a Friend, Faith of our Fathers. The words never make much sense, but the tunes are grand. Anyways, there I was in Tennessee at church next to Jon singing one of my old favorites. I heard Jon's true-to-pitch, quiet, bass voice and felt like I was ten years old and back at the Presbyterian Church in Lyons, Nebraska.
  
Our family went to church every week, we (the girls) never wanted to but my Mom thought it was her duty to at least introduce us to religion. Nikki, Ginny and I jostled for position every Sunday, trying to sit next to Daddy. Sometimes my elbows were the sharpest and I got the prize. He smelled like Old Spice and cigars, felt like safety and scratchy wool, and sounded like God. He had a lovely, deep bass voice, sang in perfect harmony, and knew all the words.

Sitting next to my Jon, a tallish, lovely, gentle man, and  listening to him sing with a similar true-to-pitch, deep, bass voice was like being beamed back in time. I could smell the hymnals, feel the drowse in the summer air, catch the sparkle of the light reflecting off Daddy's Masonic ring, and see the sun streaming through the stained glass lambs. Although Jon doesn't smell like Old Spice or cigars, the light, the sound, the spot-on harmony, and the feeling of contentment was the same as those Sundays years ago.

So Happy Father's Day Jon, my dad would be proud of you.



Nick Nichols




Jon Salem and someone I don't really recognize.

  

 

http://music.aol.com/video/time-of-your-life-good-riddance/green-day/1358748   


On the last Saturday in May, 1960 in South Sioux City, Nebraska, I marched down the aisle with my graduating high school class to Pomp and Circumstance. On that same day, 50 years later my grandson Caleb walked in Knoxville, Tennessee to the same music. With my graduation money I bought a transistor radio for $25.00. Although inflation and the amazing increase in tuition should be figured in, Caleb could have paid for all four years of my out-of-state tuition with his graduation money. After the ceremony, my Mom and Dad took my sister Ginny and me to the Green Gables for Gosh Awful Gooeys. After Caleb's ceremony, his Mom, sister-in-law, family friends and I fed Mexican food to 100+ people. Change is constant, but the ceremonies remain the same.

I don't remember any stirring words or inspirational messages from my ceremony fifty years ago, and really don't remember any from two weeks ago. Commencement is still too long, too wordy, and too solemn to contain the exuberance simmering under those bright blue caps and gowns. At Caleb's ceremony there was, however, a sweet highlight of kind words spoken and heartfelt hugs exchanged as each graduate received his/her diploma from their parents. Most speeches were brief and to the point, with one long-winded exception that sent nudges and eyes rolling across the auditorium. That over-zealous dad provided a "you wouldn't believe this one guy" story to retell for years to come.

Our party in the park was a long time in coming. My daughter Bridget and I began planning in March for what became an exercise in careful shopping, intricate logistics, creative refrigeration, reliance on the kindness of friends, and sheer endurance. The day after I arrived in Knoxville we focused on pork and beans. Every available crock pot and heavy pan was filled with simmering pinto beans. Four eight pound pork butts roasted in Bridget's oven with another four at the church. Rice filled any empty burner and everyone that wandered through the kitchen chopped their share of tomatoes, onions, and sweet potatoes. We ate dinner Thursday night surrounded by mounds of pulled pork, trays of cooling rice, and pans of refried beans. 

We scurried on Friday morning to bake the Tres Leches Cake and mush the guacamole before the remainder of the family arrived. By Friday night our numbers were up to twenty: nine adults, seven children, one baby, and three dogs—each  expecting at some point to be fed. My daughter-in-law Lara did just that—with a meal-ready spaghetti dinner complete with sauce, pasta, garlic bread, and cupcakes. For Bridget and I, weary from the battle with pork and beans, seeing Lara come up the driveway was akin to catching sight of the cavalry riding over the hill to save the circled wagons.

Saturday was the big day. At the first break in the brief (not!) ceremony, Lara, Mary Elizabeth, Sydney, Ansley, and I skedaddled to the park to set up. As we drove into the parking lot, we could see unfamiliar milling bodies, open coolers, and unfolded "soccer chairs" in our reserved spot. Not to be daunted, Lara approached the somewhat unfriendly group with the posture and manners of a genuine steel magnolia and had them on their way before you could whistle Dixie. With only a few skips in our getalong,  we decorated, unfolded, plugged in, displayed, and served the party goers. Our group evenly divided itself between 50 or so fit, constantly moving Ultimate Frisbee players and 50 or so not as fit, lounging, spectators until nighttime darkness finally nudged us off the field, out of our chairs, and into our cars.

The Batchelor family was the perfect host—welcoming, casual, generous, and engaged. Caleb, the perfect graduate—involved, spontaneous, and gracious. All in all, a successful celebration of a young graduate's entrance into the complex mystery of adult life.


Connie Batchelor's Mississippi Mud Cake

2 sticks butter
1 1/2 c. flour
2 c. sugar
1 1/2 c. nuts, chopped
2 tbsp. cocoa
1 c. coconut
4 eggs
7 oz. jar marshmallow creme
1 tsp. vanilla

Mix all very well except marshmallow creme. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-40 minutes. While cake is still hot, spread on marshmallow creme from side to side.

FROSTING:

1 stick butter
1/2 c. milnot
1 tsp. vanilla
1/3 c. cocoa
1 box powdered sugar

Cook the first four ingredients on the stove for 2 minutes. Remove from heat and mix in sugar with blender. Beat well. Spread over Mississippi Mud Cake. 
 
I didn't really read this recipe through carefully the first time, so what the heck is "milnot"? Well, it's a brand of evaporated milk sold primarily in the South. Here's what my go-to-guy Google has to say, "

Is Milnot the same as Sweetened Condensed Milk?

No, Milnot is not an equivalent or substitute for sweetened condensed milk (SCM). Milnot is a substitute for evaporated milk. Milnot is a milk-based product that has had the butterfat removed, and replaced by vegetable oil. SCM is evaporated milk + plenty of sugar.

The Batchelors: Bridget, Caleb, Ronnie, Katie, and Lauren


Caleb



Lauren and Fitzy



Katie, Isiah, Lauren, Mary Elizabeth

 

  

Sorry about this version, but YouTube disabled the embed request for the original video.

My oldest grandchild, Caleb, graduates from high school next Saturday in Knoxville, TN. The party following commencement will overshadow the ceremony—seems as if graduation exercises are to be endured not enjoyed. The proud families and friends wait, often in the hot sun or pouring rain, for that shining moment when their star walks across the stage and receives a rolled up token for their perseverance and hard work. Caleb will have a large section of boosters: parents, sisters, two grandfathers, three grandmothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends.

My daughter Bridget and I have been planning our event for a month now—lists have been made, supplies have been stockpiled, crowd-sized vessels have been borrowed, and the park has been reserved. I haven't cooked for 60+ for many years, so we'll see. I do have an spunky group of prep guys, choppers, mincers, and bakers so what could go wrong? Mexican for the many was the choice for various reasons: it's less expensive, holds well, can be designed to avoid those nasty microbes, is delish, won't be found on every other party buffet, and most of all—received enthusiastic support from our graduate.

Having participated in several commercial disasters featuring large amounts of food served to large crowds of people, I tend to organize to the extreme. For me, It's better to conjure up the problems that may occur in advance and plan for the worst-case than just give it up to fate. I have a shopping list, a prep list, a cooking list, an equipment list, a venue preparation list, a clean-up list, and have divided the family into work teams with their own to-do lists. I'll take this info along with me on a flash drive, but thought I'd put the recipes on-line in the "cloud" just in case.

So anyways, here's the menu and a few recipes:








Keep tuned for a play-by-play of the event in real time.

Rice, yams, & black beans—serves 25-30

5 cups rice
7 1/2 cups water
1 Tbs. salt

1 # chorizo
2 onions, fine dice
3 sweet potatoes, peeled, diced, and steamed, boiled, or sauteed
Oregano, coriander, cumin
3 cans black beans
Chopped fresh cilantro
Cotija cheese

Rinse rice until water runs clear. Cover with water and soak for 30 minutes. Bring 8 cups water to a boil. Add salt & rice. Stir to combine. Turn down to simmer and cook 25 minutes. Take off heat and let it sit, covered, for 15 minutes.

Sauté onion, chorizo, and garlic in hot oil. Add cumin, oregano, coriander. Sauté on medium-low heat until onions and garlic are cooked through.

Fold in onion/chorizo/spice mix, yams, black beans, chopped cilantro, and Cotija cheese into cooked rice. Season to taste.

Tres Leches Cake

2 tsp. butter
1 Tbs. + 2 cups flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 ½ tsp. fine salt
6 eggs at room temperature, separated
1 ¼ cups sugar
½ cup whole milk
1 Tbs. rum flavoring
1 Tbs. vanilla
1 14 oz. can evaporated milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 can sweet condensed milk

Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9x13 pan with butter and dust with 1 tsp. flour. Invert dish, tap out excess flour.

Sift the remaining flour, baking powder, and salt into a bowl, set aside. Put the egg whites into a large bowl and beat with an electric mixer on medium speed until soft peaks form, about 2 minutes. While mixer is running, add the sugar in a gradual stream and continue beating until soft peaks. Add the egg yolks one at a time, beating well after each addition. Alternately add the reserved flour mixture and the whole milk in 3 parts, beating until smooth after each addition. Add rum and vanilla and beat again briefly.

Pour batter into reserved baking pan and bake until golden brown, about 30 minutes. Cool for 30 minutes.

Whisk together the sweetened condensed milk, evaporated milk, and heavy cream in a bowl. Using a knife, poke the cake with holes all over, penetrating to the bottom of the pan. Pour the milk mixture over the warm cake and cool completely. Cover cooled cake and refrigerate at least 4 hours.

Frost with sweetened whipped cream and decorate with fresh soft fruit, i.e., chopped mango or berries 

Mexican Coleslaw

4 heads thinly sliced green cabbage or 7# bag
6 cups peeled and grated carrots
2 cups chopped cilantro
2 shredded jicamas
4 minced jalapenos
1 cup chopped cilantro

Queso Dip

Diced onions, cumin, chile powder
4 cans Ro-Tel tomatoes with chilies
Extra can green chilies
6 lb. Velveeta cheese

Saute onions, add spices. Melt Velveeta over low heat; mix in tomatoes and chilies until warm. If you are on a budget, 2 cans of Cheddar cheese soup can substitute for half of the Velveeta. Keep this mixture warm as once it cools—undippable.

P.S.
If you're keeping score, Susan beat the pants off the boys during the latest Top Chef Master's episode—won both the quick-fire challenge and the elimination round. You go girl!

 

  

When I think about what to have for dinner, I wonder, "Where will we go tonight?" When I was a "food professional", people would ask, "What's your specialty?" A blue-collar cook doesn't have the luxury of focusing on a specialty. You just  reproduce whatever your current boss's specialty is. I've cooked French, Italian, Indian, Mexican, Thai, Northwestern Fusion (whatever that is), American grill standards, California food-of-the-moment, and an occasional MIddle Eastern dish or two.
 
Stocking a refrigerator and a pantry for all those foreign lands takes lots of room. I have Korean bean paste, chimichurri sauce, preserved lemons, roasted garlic, tamarind paste, chipotles in sauce, tahini, wasabi, hoisin, miso, frozen noodles, keffir lime leaves, plum chutney, lemon pickle, fermented black beans, frozen coconut, and sleeves of naan bread. It takes a village to cook for us.

I finished my recent freezer reorg by cleaning the entire refrigerator—not a life-changing moment, but it did lead to better things. What we needed was a walk-in, what we had was a cheap, flimsy Frigidaire. Each time I cleaned the refrigerator, putting it all back together created unpleasant kitchen drama. The bins cracked and the shelf brackets splintered, leaving the pickle-heavy glass shelves balanced precariously on Super Glued plastic supports. I spent almost $200 on new parts before I bailed and refused to spend one dollar more on that fake-stainless steel piece of junk.

As in the toaster war, finding a puzzle piece to fit in the small nook under the cupboards proved daunting. After much searching, the choice was made by the fit—a Kitchenaid KBLTS5510, the only refrigerator that measured 65 1/2" tall (without the hinge). Fortunately, it's a dream of a frig—bottom freezer, sturdy shelves, strong crispers, and wonder of wonders keeps things cold.




Putting the puzzle that is the kitchen together with a new large appliance required a visit by Bob's brother Norman. We moved the stainless steel shelf that is our pantry into the living room, removed the cupboard (and all the food in it), ripped one inch off the cabinet and the doors, then put the puzzle back together and waited for delivery.

On  the big day, I rewound the entire food move—emptying the chrome shelf and old frig,  filling the living room and kitchen with cans, bottles, and bags. Tucked away in the old freezer was a fine piece of salmon, some linguisa sausage, and three scallops: thus the Portuguese Fish Stew. It's traditionally made with seabass (or some other firm white fish) and mussels but this version rocked our house.

This is more a procedure than a recipe. If you have Italian sausage or even bratwurst—use that. No kale? Use spinach, collard greens, chard or skip it. Got zucchini—that'll work. No mussels or clams? How about frozen shrimp or canned clams. Sweet potatoes instead of Yukons tasted great. Some wine wouldn't hurt either.

Portuguese Fish Stew

2 Tbs. olive oil, plus more for serving
1 tsp. fennel seeds
1/2 tsp. red chili flakes
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2 pound linguica or chorizo sausage, sliced in chunks
5 sprigs fresh thyme sprigs, tied together
1 handful fresh oregano, leaves torn from stems
2 bay leaves
1 pound Yukon gold potatoes, diced
1 1/2 quarts chicken broth
1/2 pound kale or cabbage, chopped
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 dozen Littleneck clams or mussels, scrubbed
1/2 pound snapper, cod, or seabass pieces, skin and pin bones removed
1/4 cup coarsely chopped flat-leaf parsley

Heat the oil in a heavy 4 to 6-quart pot over medium flame. Briefly saute fennel seed, chili flakes, and garlic. Add onions and sausage; cook, stirring with wooden spoon, until the sausage renders out some of its fat and the onions are soft. Toss in the herbs and then the potatoes, stir that around for a minute to coat in the oil. Pour in the chicken broth and bring up to a simmer. Add the kale/cabbage or other vegetables, season with salt and pepper. Cover and simmer for 10 minutes until the vegetables are nearly tender.

Uncover the pot and add the mussels or clams; simmer, covered, for 10 minutes until the mussels/clams open. Add the fish and continue to cook for another 3 to 5 minutes until the fish is cooked. Garnish with chopped parsley and drizzle with olive oil.

By the by, Susan Feniger dodged elimination from Top Chef Masters again and lives to compete again next week.

  

On Wednesday Susan Feniger, the only person I know who's been on teevee, survived again to compete in the next round of Bravo's Top Chef Masters. http://www.bravotv.com/top-chef-masters In the Blind Tag Team "Quick Fire" challenge, the chefs were blindfolded, then waited their turn while one from their team cooked for 10 minutes, then passed the baton. "Whatever you do, start a sauce."  Each team's completed dish was similar—scallops, pork belly (anything's better with bacon) and (if in doubt add) plenty of butter.

The elimination challenge: prepare a wedding reception with wedding cake for 150 guests with direction provided by the happy couple. The bride: "I'm the more adventurous: but no pork, no lamb, no shellfish, and bananas foster, please" and the groom: "I'm a meat and potatoes man—beef, scalloped potatoes and carrot cake, please." Each competing chef moaned about making the cake—most have little to do with the pastry department and baking without a recipe can be treacherous.

After 6 hours of prep and 6 hours of production (and at least twenty-two hours of commercials), the wedding reception buffet tables were filled with rack of lamb (sorry bride but you'll really love this), roast chicken, beef tenderloin, scalloped potatoes, crab cakes, corn salad, and raclette tart. The wedding cake angst proved to be well-founded: Susan's Red Team was almost undone by her "Charley Brown Christmas Tree" wedding cake and the Blue Team's carrot cake was so dry it "should have been accompanied by a glass of milk."

The panel of judges (none of whom have ever stepped foot in a restaurant kitchen)  roundly criticized Marcus Samuelsson's  "mushy" tenderloin and Susan F.'s "shockingly bad" cake but loved Jody Adams' Dijon and rosemary rack of lamb, Susan's potato bhujas, Jonathan Waxman's roast chicken with mushroom veloute, and Carmen Gonzales' crab cakes.

After ample criticism and much smug displeasure, the panel declared the Red Team to be winner of the elimination round and sent home a Blue Team chef, Carmen Gonzales. Jody Adam's Dijon rack of lamb with farro pilaf won rave reviews and placed her first with top honors and $10,000 for her charity. Here's her recipe:

Dijon Rack of Lamb with Rosemary

1 whole New Zealand Rack of Lamb divided in two
•  1 teaspoon of chopped fresh thyme
•  1/2 tablespoon of chopped rosemary
•  1 teaspoon chopped garlic
•  1 teaspoon orange zest
•  1 teaspoon lemon zest
•  2 tablespoons vegetable oil
•  Kosher salt
•  Freshly ground black pepper
•  1/4 cup Dijon mustard mixed with 1 tablespoon orange juice
•  1/2 cup buttered bread crumbs

Trim lamb of excess fat. Mix thyme, rosemary, garlic and zests together with 2 tablespoons oil and smear all over the lamb. Season with salt and pepper. Cover and marinate at least two hours or overnight.

Heat 2 cast iron pans (one pan for each piece) over medium-high heat. Sear lamb, fat side down, until golden brown. Flip and cook on second side. Transfer both pieces to a rack on a sheet pan.

Smear fat side down with mustard/orange juice mixture.

Cover with bread crumbs.

Roast 10 minutes in 425 degree oven or until cooked to desired taste. Let rest at least 10 minutes before serving.

  

My old boss, Susan Feniger, is back on the front burner. She and Mary Sue Milliken were cheeky darlings in the 1980s and 1990s, among the few women chef/owners of upscale restaurants, authors of  two cookbooks, and stars of a Food Channel show, Two Hot Tamales. In the early 1980s, other than Chasen's and Musso & Frank's, there were few restaurants in Los Angeles with nationwide recognition until Wolfgang Puck opened Ma Maison. Susan worked the line there as a saute cook, leaving in 1980 to partner up with Mary Sue to open City Cafe. Susan opened "Susan Feniger's Street" last year without her long-time partner. Susan is the more ambitious—always willing to push ahead, take chances, and try one more time.

They opened City Cafe with a two-burner hot plate and an illegal hibachi in the alley with access to the single restroom through the tiny kitchen. Four years later, City Cafe became the Border Grill and City Restaurant opened nearby on La Brea. In the next ten years Feniger/Milliken opened Border Grill in Santa Monica, Cuidad in downtown Los Angeles, a Border Grill in Pasadena that didn't survive, and a Border Grill in the Las Vegas Mandalay Bay that is still going strong.

Susan is no novice when it comes to television appearances. Among other turns, Susan and Mary Sue appeared with Julia Child on Julia's PBS series, competed on Iron Chef America, and cooked a Mexican food segment on Good Morning America. This year Susan is back in full tilt boogy on Bravo's Top Chef Masters  competition. This series uses reality TV's scoldy, critical, judgmental four-star rating to eliminate those who can't take the heat in the kitchen. The losers go home, the winner goes on to compete in a future show. Susan was paired up with Chicago-based Tony Mantuano  to create a dinner designed to deliver the goods for a first date. Susan's contribution was Black Pepper Sauteed Scallops and Shrimp. We used to make a variation of this dish at the original Border Grill with turkey scallops but this more upscale version is even more delicious. Written recipes aren't included written in the Top Chef's website, but here's my recollection. Top Chef Masters airs on Wednesday nights, so check it out and see how far Susan gets.

Black pepper sautéed scallops and shrimp

• ½ lb. scallops
• ½ lb. 16/20 shrimp
• 2 Tbs. ginger
• 1 Tbs. minced garlic
• ½ cup chicken or fish stock
• 1 Tbs. oyster sauce
• 1 Tbs. soy sauce
• 1 tsp. sugar
• Juice of two limes
• 1/2 cup chopped cilantro
• 4 Tbs. cubed butter
• Herb salad: scallions or chives, cilantro and mint

Dry both scallops and shrimp thoroughly. Season both sides liberally with black pepper and Kosher salt.
Being careful not to crowd the pan, brown scallops two minutes per side and remove. Brown shrimp on both sides and remove from pan. Don’t let the shrimp cook so long that they curl up—cook until medium rare.
Add 2 Tbs. ginger, 1 Tbs. minced garlic, saute briefly.
Add to pan:
• 1/2 cup chicken stock
• 1 Tbs. oyster sauce
• 1 Tbs. soy sauce
• 1 tsp. sugar
• Juice of 2 limes
• Cilantro pieces

Bring back to heat, add butter and shut pan off. Combine butter with juices off heat, stirring quickly.
Plate scallops, shrimp, and coat with pan sauce.
Serve on herb salad: scallion/cilantro/mint.