Marla in the Kitchen

The world is what you make it: Tomatillo avocado salsa, Almond bars

Marla Nichols — Sun, 19 May 2013 16:28:19 GMT

The diagonal trip from Puget Sound to the southeast requires passing through four time zones, over the Cascades, the Rockies, and the Smoky Mountains, and above canyon country, farmlands, and cotton fields. Like Florida, South Carolina could be a different country. There are bluebirds and cardinals instead of Steller's Jays and seagulls, women wear more makeup and have larger hair, men sport more baseball caps and fewer tattoos, gracious Southern charm replaces polite Northwestern reserve, barbecue and smoking rooms are available in the Atlanta airport, children of all ages address adults as Ma'am or Sir, hugs are mandatory but recycling is not, and churches are full on Sundays.

Crossroads farm

Angels in a cowpen

While South Carolina does produce wine, the state is better known for moonshine, a by-product of the Whiskey Rebellion. After the Revolutionary War, George Washington's government put together an agreement between the states that the feds would assume the war debts incurred by the states. To pay those debts, Alexander Hamilton came up with the idea to impose an excise on whiskey.The high taxes drove small distillers into the woods and the government responded by sending revenuers after the moonshiners. Prohibition and the temperance movement only increased the demand for moonshine. Today home brewers can legally make beer and wine for personal use, but distilling liquor on an unlicensed still is a felony punishable with a $10,000 fine and up to 5 years in a federal penitentiary. South Carolina's Palmetto Moonshine is legally made in small artisan batches from un-aged corn with a secret recipe. "Only pinky drinkers need a shot glass, true rebels drink it from the jar."

The yearly family graduations in South Carolina and Tennessee put travel into a rhythm—each May, we come together in the southeast to nudge the next chick out of the nest. This year, the person of the day was Syd, my son's middle daughter. No one wanted to miss the occasion, so (not counting dogs) the pillow count was twenty: some in beds, some on pallets, one couch dweller, and a little boy who slept blissfully between his mom and dad.

POD Syd and the Grands

Ansley and Isaiah

Fitz and Jen

Alex and Fitzie

Lucy

My kids and I

The POD's mom

The aunt, the uncle, and the cousins

We are a family who travels on its stomach, eating three squares a day, always welcoming incidental snacks. Lara, my daughter-in-law, was as gracious as anyone faced with twenty, week-long, sleep-in guests could possibly be. There was Lebanese night with Pop and Sithee's recipes for loobia, kibbee, hummus. We ate Ansley's tomatillo avocado salsa on chips, crackers, or with a spoon, Jen's grilled chicken, Linda's roasted pork loin and yeast rolls, Lara's breakfast grits and biscuits (after all, she is a Southern girl), Bridget, Caleb, Katie, and Lauren's salad paloosa, and a chocolate fountain worthy of Las Vegas.

The official ceremony was the usual: too long and not particularly relevant. The main address wound vaguely around a theme involving fruit cocktail and a vacation. The take away seemed to be "the world is what you make it", with modifiers, do's and don'ts, and a side of shoulds and woulds thrown in. The radiant young faces were unfazed, the parents brimmed with pride, and the audience behaved itself. When we run out of children to graduate, we may have to gather anyway, just to continue this abundance of good food, great company, and long hard laughs.

The POD and her sisters

The POD and this year's quilt

Ansley's Guacamole Salsa/Tomatillo Salsa

1lbs of Tomatillo's
1 Avocado
1 large slice of onion
1 hand full of cilantro
1 jalapeño to taste
1 lime
2 teaspoons of Taco Seasoning
Salt to taste
2 teaspoons of Cumin

Blend well in food processer. Put avocado in last.

Don't have to cut anything up very much, but not whole

Don't know that this recipe for almond bars was the one used, but it sounds good. Who could argue with Betty Crocker?

Almond Bars

Cookie Base
1 pouch (1 lb 1.5 oz) Betty Crocker® sugar cookie mix
1/2 cup butter or margarine, melted
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1 egg

Filling
1 can (8 oz) or 1 package (7 oz) almond paste, crumbled into 1/2-inch pieces
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup butter or margarine, melted
2 eggs
1/2 cup sliced almonds
Topping
2 oz white chocolate baking bar, coarsely chopped (1/3 cup)
2 tablespoons shortening
1/4 cup sliced almonds

Heat oven to 350°F. In large bowl, stir cookie base ingredients until soft dough forms. Spread in ungreased 13x9-inch pan. Bake 15 to 18 minutes or until light golden brown.

Meanwhile, in large bowl, beat almond paste, sugar and 1/4 cup melted butter with electric mixer on low speed until blended. Add 2 eggs; beat until well blended (mixture may be slightly lumpy).

Spread almond paste mixture over partially baked base. Sprinkle with 1/2 cup almonds. Bake 15 to 20 minutes longer or until filling is set (filling will puff up during baking). Cool completely, about 1 hour.

Keep Austin Weird: Thai garlic shrimp

Marla Nichols — Sun, 12 May 2013 19:57:30 GMT

My sister recently visited her son, who lives in Austin Texas. I've always wanted to spend a little time there, it has such a cool reputation and is the place to go for food, music, and fun. Here's her account of the week she spent there.

Wed. Touched down in Austin just in time to whisk off to Andrew's softball game. Muggy, not so buggy Texas evening. The good guys and gals won the game with our hero making stellar plays on the field and numerous smacks of the bat (including one "My, oh my!). The traffic was terrific due to the fertilizer plant explosion in West, but we finally slid across smooth vinyl diner seats to a diner dinner of chicken fried steaks with crawfish gravy and venison meatloaf with collard greens. No sissy pretentious wine snobs us--no siree, Lone Star all the way.

Backyard graffiti

Thursday. Arrived with coffee and crosswords (the puzzle--not the conversation). We hustled off to catch a matinee showing of "42"--must have been ghost writ by Uncle Walt--but we got to have sangria and pizza right there in the open. Unlike the Vashon Theatre where you have to sneak in your box of wine and skittles. It's so embarrassing when your empty bottle rolls down the aisle.

After thumbing through "Marla in the Kitchen", we hit upon Thai Garlic Shrimp. Page 126 for those of you lucky enough to own a hard copy. The shrimp swam in from Indonesia, poppadoms from India, and Uncle Ben's from Rancho Dominez, CA--true fusion.

Thai garlic shrimp

Friday. A quick stop at the ESPN trailer to meet the work gang, and a brisket sandwich at Hoovers. Lady Bird Johnson had a big state to beautify and is remembered for her fight against the eyesores of America and her promotion of of its beauty. The 280 acre Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Preserve is her most visible accomplishment. No planters or hanging begonias here--just miles of trails through native hundred year old oaks and butterflies just days old. The swings were our favorite resting spot with dozens to choose from--just remember to stay on the path! Eggplant pizza and, yes, more Lone Star got us started on our marathon watch of "House of Cards" .

Swingin' at the Lady Bird

Brisket at Hoovers

Texas Bluebonnets

Sat. The most beautiful of the beautiful days showed us a walk along the urban greenbelt. It was a doggie parade indeed. Slammed a few tacos before hitting the ball field. University of Texas vs West Va. A trounce at 12-0. Hook 'em Horns! Grilled chicken by the pool with roasted peppers, asparagus, and broccoli.(Yes, you can really grill broccoli). We may have allowed a few bottles of wine into the mix that night.

Grilled asparagus and broccoli

Sunday. A walk around Lady Bird Lake got our appetites ready for the Sunday Crawfish Boil at Lustre Pearl. You twist off their little heads (try not to watch their beady little eyes) and suck out their bodies. Beer and a band? Hell--yes! The boys had burritos from Freebirds that night before "House of Cards", but I was content to remember my little red friends.

Crayfish boil

Monday. Phooey--work day for Andrew, so I am off shopping for trinkets, but first pulled pork san at Doc's and well, a beer. The last supper grand finale was grilled steaks by the pool with a blu cheese smear, baked potates, jalepeno poppers, and a beautiful sunset.

Thai garlic Shrimp

1 bunch cilantro
2 T. minced garlic
3 T. minced ginger
2 T. oil
1# peeled, deveined shrimp
½ c. chicken stock
3 T. fish sauce
1 T. + 1 t. sugar
3 T. rice wine vinegar
1 ½ t. cornstarch dissolved in 1 t. water

Blend cilantro, garlic, and ginger to a paste. Sauté cilantro paste in hot oil, stirring for 2 minutes. Add shrimp and stir until coated—about 1 minute. Add stock, fish sauce, sugar, and vinegar. Simmer until shrimp is pink (don’t overcook), about 2 minutes. Remove shrimp from pan. Bring sauce to boil and thicken with cornstarch/water mixture—about 3 minutes. Put shrimp back in pan to heat through. Serve with rice.

Life's a beach: Ceviche

Marla Nichols — Sun, 05 May 2013 17:41:46 GMT

I'm likin' South Florida. Day or night, the tropical air is soft and breezy without a trace of that Puget Sound shiver. I must admit that my short-timer's impression has no mid-summer experience behind it; but this week's lazy warmth allows for such freedom: no jacket required, no scurrying back to bed in the middle of the night with Popsicle toes, no need for lace-up boots. I would be crying like a little girl if it was July, but right now, I can ignore the existence of the upcoming mid-summer 90°/90% humidity days and mosquito-filled nights.

In Southern Florida, people are vibrant, sparkly, and exuberant (women dress especially well); department stores are full of sheer, shimmery clothes, strappy, sexy sandals, and brightly colored underwear; feathery palm trees and hibiscus shrubs line the streets; Puget Sound politeness shows up as warmth and easy acceptance; aqua, lime green, and bright pink are the default colors.

An ordinary shrub, here in Southern Florida.

Looks vaguely Martian.

A neighborhood egret

When I was in high school, Connie Francis lured Midwestern teenagers to Fort Lauderdale beaches for the ultimate Spring Break. I yearned to go then and still wanted to see the dream, but had yet to put toes in the sand or to try out the local transit. So yesterday, I caught the #28 for an hour's ride straight east to Hallandale Beach. The bus moved quickly through suburban business parks and gated developments picking up only a few riders along the way. Fountained courtyards, landscaped green, and big name retail gave way to trailer parks, P's Meat Store, Friendly Farmacy, Surprise Beauty Salon, and Rasta Vegetarian Juice Bar. Picking up passengers along Hallandale Beach Blvd., the #28 was packed by the time we reached the end of the line with the usual complement of mumblers, sullen teens, and commuters found on any bus in the country. The ambient Florida warmth may have been responsible for the more pungent bus environment but the ride was familiar: lurching, drowsy, and long.

I immediately checked my purse for batteries.

Eventually the bus driver announced the end of the line and we all disembarked. With no beach in sight, I wandered through the Beach Club Condominium's parking lot, past a cute little pocket park (where you can rent a chickee hut for the day), and found the green waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

The Beach Club Condominium

South Beach Park

Now, Hallandale's South Beach is not Miami's South Beach. Like L.A beaches, at Miami's South Beach only the lovely strip to their skivvies. Hallandale's South Beach is a family affair where everyone braves a bikini: the toddlers, the moms, the grandmas, and the grandpas. Instead of feeling embarrassed and less than, older men and women enjoy the sun and surf with bodies from the real world and everyone gets in the water and swims. Thanks to my new Silver Sneakers experiences with older, wider naked bodies, I would have joined them had I brought my swimsuit.

Anyways, I had a fine time, made it back to the hotel, and will go back home with a new appreciation for Florida.

We had seabass ceviche at La Carreta, a Cuban restaurant near the hotel. Made me vow to make it as soon as we got back home.

Ceviche

• 1 # swordfish, halibut, snapper, or tuna
• 2/3 c. lime juice
• 2 tomatoes, peeled, seeded and diced
• ½ red onion, fine dice
• 1/3 c. olive oil
• ½ c. orange juice
• 1 c. tomato juice
• 1/3 c. fresh oregano—minced
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 t. minced Serrano
• ½ c. green olives chopped

Dice fish into ¼ “cubes and marinate in the lime juice for 30-60 minutes. After fish has marinated, strain and discard juices. Place fish and all remaining ingredients in a bowl and toss together. Taste for seasoning, add salt, pepper, more lime juice, more chilies or more oregano as you prefer. Cover and refrigerate for 30-60 minutes and serve cold.

Go Gators!: Grilled vegetables and pasta

Marla Nichols — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 20:17:20 GMT

You can't get much farther, or further, from Seattle than Miami. The two opposite coast regions are almost separate countries concerning climate, culture, language, and flora/fauna. At home on Puget Sound, waking up to soft air is but a dream, hearing Spanish spoken as the default language doesn't happen, and buying a whole pig from the corner grocery store for a weekend pig roast is out of the question.

This week, I've been limited to adventures of foot, but yesterday I had access to wheels. There's so much more available when you can get behind the wheel. iPhone calculated a 5-hour walk to Everglades Holiday Park, with no available transit, but only 20 minutes by car. Garmin-equipped, I was at the gate by 11:30, just in time for an airboat ride with "Captain Jodie, the "only female airboat captain in the world!" She whipped that boat around in circles, delighting a six year old and flattening his mom's hairdo.

Captain Jodie

The video should go here, but it just doesn't work, so scroll on down and pretend that
the sequence is seamless.

Captain Jodie is a skilled driver, a well-informed birder, and an excellent busker. Before revving up the airboat's painfully loud engine, she pointed out turkey vultures, egrets, herons, and cormorants. We sped along banks lined with red mangrove trees through the saw grass marsh, over acres of bladderwort, water lily, and spattercock. After a thrill-packed ten minutes on zoom, Captain Jodie cut the boat's engine and drifted over to the bank, where we waited to see a purple gallinule and her new chicks.

Captain Jodie calls the purple gallinule, "the prettiest bird in the country."

Everyone, however, was there to see the alligators so the Captain cranked up the airboat and off we went. We sidled up close to a "baby alligator", found several alligator logs, and a few bigs sunning themselves on the bank.

One of the bigs

Captain Jodie urged us to stay for the "Alligator Show" after exiting the gift shop, so we all drifted up to the alligator pit. Most of my fellow tourists were alligator/swamp reality show fans (not me) and were there to see the real thing. Now, I'm not generally known as an avid animal activist, but bothering alligators just seems wrong. Alligators prefer to stay as far away from humans as possible and are content swallowing chicks, small deer, raccoons, and the occasional pet so why hunt them down, wrestle them, and turn them into a sideshow? Is it because they're not cute and fuzzy? Would we track down a darling penguin, a delightful rabbit, or a sweet seal and make it a reluctant star? Well, I guess we would and we do. Anyways, I found the show a bit sad and left before the grand finale.

Better count 'em, still got all ten?

I think the alligators would disagree with the Gator Boys about the "rescue" part.

I'm once again limited to making meals with ingredients light enough to be carried six blocks, cooked on a grill, and seasoned with vinegar, oil, salt, and pepper. This combination seems plausible.

Grilled vegetable with pasta

1 zucchini, cut lengthwise
1 red bell pepper, seeded and halved
1/2 eggplant, cut lengthwise in thick slices
1/2 red onion, cut crosswise into thick slices
olive oil
salt and black pepper (or chili flakes) to taste
1/4 cup Kalamata olives
1/2 cup cubed Feta cheese

Arrange zucchini, bell peppers, and onion in a single layer on a baking sheet. Brush both sides with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Lay the vegetables on the grill, cover the grill and cook, turning once, until tender and lightly browned, about 5 minutes per side.

Remove skin from pepper, and cut zucchini half and eggplant slices into large pieces.

Bring pot of salted water to a rolling boil, add pasta, cook about 10-11 minutes. Drain, reserving 1/4 cup pasta water.

Transfer pasta to a bowl, season with salt, pepper, olive oil, and Parmesan cheese, Add reserved pasta water, grilled vegetables, olives, and feta cheese. What the heck, add more olive oil too. Season with salt and pepper, garnish with Parmesan cheese.

A right coast visit: Bocaditos

Marla Nichols — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 17:22:24 GMT

A temperature of 87 degrees with 85% humidity, daily torrential afternoon rains, and Kobe Bryant-sized split-leaf philandrendrons--where's Waldo? Florida, baby, South Florida. The sweetie got restless in his cube and accepted a two-week project in Miramar, just south of Fort Lauderdale. Needless to say, the differences on this diagonal end point from Puget Sound are huge: Spanish not English, bougainvillea and hibiscus not azaleas and rhodies, pastel and white, not black and navy, linen and spandex, not fleece and flannel, warm brown skin and painted toes, not pale-faced arms and heavy socks, empanadas in the deli, not salmon patties, aerobics by myself in the hotel pool, not bouncing in sync with my pet-story Silver Sneakerers.

There's a Cuban restaurant and a cigar/hookah bar within walking distance, a Publix Market that sells bocaditos, empanadas, and Peruvian-style potato salad, a lamentable absence of useable sidewalks, gracious warmth from grocery clerks, hotel workers, and intersection drivers, and a potential trip to the Everglades. What's not to like? Not to complain, but it's just too warm for me. Although, walking outside without a coat or heavy socks is liberating.

beautiful bougainvillea

Five Star Cigar and Hookah Bar

Bocaditos (Little bites in English. There are many types of bocadito: guava, chicken, pork, shrimp.

Bread rounds: either crisp or not crisp—to your liking.

Ham spread:

• 1/2 pkg softened cream cheese
• 3 slices mortadella
• ½ # diced cooked ham
• ½ tsp. Coleman’s mustard
• 1 tablespoon yellow mustard
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• ½ cup chopped green olives
• ½ dill pickle
• ½ cup mayonnaise
• Couple squirts of Tabasco
• ½ tsp. salt
• ½ tsp. black pepper
Let cream cheese come to room temperature. Grind together mortadella, ham pieces, olives, and pickle.

Stir in cream cheese, dry mustard, yellow mustard, Worcestershire sauce, mayonnaise, and Tabasco. Season to taste.

Guava and cream cheese: combine softened cream cheese, guava paste, ½ minced Serrano pepper, and salt.

Twist and shout: Country-style spare ribs

Marla Nichols — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 15:09:37 GMT

I've started going to water aerobics classes designed for those who find themselves on the downward slope, otherwise known as "over the hill." So far, each morning I have to convince my lazier self to march off to the pool instead of having another cup of coffee, but maybe my better self will eventually take over. It's been a while since I've appeared in public wearing a swimsuit or showered in a room full of naked women, but, like entering a chilly pool, you adjust. When a young one walks by, the grey-haired sigh a collective sigh remembering the firmness of years gone by.

Apparently, many attendees go to socialize, as they spend their hour bouncing lightly about and swapping pet stories. I'm there strictly for business and aim for out of breath, so I head for the deep end. All three aerobics teachers play age-appropriate "oldies" mix tapes. In high school, I sat through countless tracks of Catch a Falling Star, Day-O, and Hello Mary Lou--why do I have to do it again? What about the 80s, the 90s, or the current century? How about a little Pet Shop Boys, Clash, INXS or even Wham!? Add a new Justine Timberlake tune, the Lumineers (thx for that one, Claire) or some Maroon 5, already. I am probably known as the curmudgeon in the deep end so I'll just zip it. Does high school ever end?

BTW, parking is limited at the Y--room for only 30 in the adjoining lot. Although I go there specifically for the exercise, I am delighted when I find a spot as close to the door as possible. There's that lazier self again.

Here are a few Spring shots from the past--there will be Spring, won't there?

The view from my window

Downtown Tacoma

When I graduated from high school, my mom let me have a few friends over for dinner. Here's what we had--made it last week, still rocks my world.

Oven-baked country-style spare ribs

5 lbs. country-style ribs seasoned with salt, black pepper, cumin, and chili powder. Or use a good smoky, barbequey rub, if you have one.

2 tbsp. oil
1 diced onion
3 T. chopped garlic
3 T. chopped ginger
1 T. dry Coleman’s mustard
1 tsp. cumin
1 Tbs. chili powder

1 can diced-in-juice tomatoes
1 can tomato sauce
1⁄2 c. catsup
3 T. Worcestershire sauce
1⁄2 c. soy sauce
2 T. vegetable oil
3 T. Dijon mustard
3 T. brown sugar
2 c. chicken stock
1 T. chipotle pepper in sauce

Season ribs with salt, black pepper, cumin, chili powder. Sauté onion, garlic, ginger, and spices in hot oil. Add rest of ingredients and blend with wand blender. Simmer 15 minutes, and then pour over ribs.

Bake in 400 oven for 15 minutes. Lower heat to 325, bake for 2 hours. Check for doneness and bake longer if necessary. Liquid should be thickened but not gone. Ribs should be falling-off-the bone tender with plenty of sauce left.

The ribs are best when left to their own devices for 20-30 minutes before serving.

Next Day: Corned beef, Meatball curry

Marla Nichols — Sun, 07 Apr 2013 20:48:02 GMT

Now where were we... Since the last post, we ate glazed corned beef and roasted vegetables on St. Patrick's Day, meatball curry on Holi, India's Festival of Colors, and ham casserole the week after Easter Sunday.

Florida Gulf Coast University completely hosed my NCAA brackets, the Yankees lost on Opening Day, the Lakers look to be out of the NBA finals, basketball may return to Seattle (who cares), and the Jets will probably deal Tim Tebow.

Roger Ebert, Phil Ramone, and Booth Gardner died.

Blizzards drove Punxsutawney Phil back into his burrow, Puget Sound had three consecutive days of sun, and sinkholes continue to plague Florida.

No new good movies have been released, David Bowie's comeback album, "Next Day" has been well received, and the Rolling Stones "50 and Counting" tour will skip Seattle, again.

Shake, Shake, Shake finally opened in Tacoma, Anthony Bourdain officially sold out by agreeing to host "The Taste", and kale is the new salted caramel.

On March 5, digital artist Leo Villareal lit the San Francisco Bay Bridge's art installation, "Bridge of Lights", the financially troubled MOCA rebuffed a partnership with the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and a work by an obscure Armenian artist found in a New York garage was appraised at $30,000,000.

Now that we're all caught up, these are a few of my favorite things.

Glazed Corned Beef and Cabbage

4 to 5 lbs. corned beef

1 Tbs. pickling spice

1 Tbs. salt

10 peeled cloves of garlic

1 head cabbage, cut in wedges

6-8 carrots, peeled and cut into large pieces

4 red potatoes, peeled and cut into large pieces

Cover meat with water; add salt and remaining ingredients. Simmer slowly for 3 1/2-4 1/2 hours or until tender. While corned beef is simmering, make glaze.

Glaze:

4 Tbs. brown sugar

2 Tbs. vinegar

2 Tbs. cup mustard

Mix ingredients.

Remove beef from juices. Add vegetables and simmer until tender—15-20 minutes.

Place drained beef in roasting pan and pour glaze over roast. Bake at 350 degrees, basting occasionally, for 30 minutes. Let rest for 15 minutes, slice to serve on the diagonal. Serve with horseradish mayonnaise.

This recipe is steppy, but OMG, is it great!

Meatball Curry

Meatballs
• 1# ground lamb, pork, beef or combination
• 1 medium onion—finely diced
• 2 Tbs. minced fresh ginger
• 1 Tbs. minced garlic
• 1 Tbs. ground coriander
• 1 ¼ tsp. ground cumin
• ½ tsp. cayenne
• 1 tsp. salt
• 3 Tbs. chopped fresh cilantro
• 1 lightly beaten egg
• ¼ cup dry bread crumbs
• 1/3 cup milk

Sauté garlic, ginger, coriander, cumin, cayenne, and salt in 1 Tbs. oil until onions are translucent. Stir, scraping bottom of pan frequently. Let cool.

Combine ground meat, onion/spice mix, chopped cilantro, egg, bread crumbs and milk. Don’t overmix. With damp hands, form mixture into 24 balls. Refrigerate for 4-6 hours or overnight.

Brown meatballs on medium-low heat and reserve.

Ginger Paste
• 2 Tbs. minced ginger
• 1 Tbs. minced garlic
• 1 Serrano chile—finely diced
• 1 tsp. ground cumin
• 1 Tbs. ground coriander
• 3 Tbs. water

Mix ginger, garlic, chiles, coriander, and ground cumin along with 3 Tbs. water in a blender until a smooth paste forms.

Sauce

• ¼ cup vegetable oil
• ½ tsp. ground cardamom
• 1 tsp. ground cumin
• 2 whole cloves
• 2” stick cinnamon
• 2 medium onions, finely chopped
• 4 medium tomatoes, chopped or 1 can diced-in-juice tomatoes
• ½ tsp. cayenne pepper or red curry paste
• 2 Tbs. plain yogurt
• ½ cup coconut milk
• 2 cups chicken stock
• 1 Tbs. sugar or agave
• 1 tsp. salt

Heat oil over medium heat in a large sauté pan. When hot, but not smoking, add cardamom, cumin, cloves, and cinnamon. Stir once; add onions and sauté, over medium heat, until onions are limp and golden.

Add ginger paste, lower heat and sauté stirring constantly for 2 minutes.

Add tomatoes and cayenne or curry paste and cook over medium heat until tomatoes are reduced to a thick paste (15 minutes).

Remove curry from heat; stir in yogurt, when yogurt is blended in, add coconut milk, chicken stock, sugar/agave, and salt. Simmer for 45 minutes.

Add reserved meatballs and simmer for 15 minutes shaking pan occasionally. Serve with rice and chutney.

Patience: the Hammer Museum Mandala Project

Marla Nichols — Wed, 13 Mar 2013 15:49:20 GMT

Every hippie store has mandalas , they are one of the most recognizable icons of the counterculture movement. When I read about the Hammer Museum's Mandala Project in the LA Times , I wrote the date on my arm so I wouldn't forget. Besides, I've been planning a visit to the museum for years. Armand Hammer, (legend has it he was named after the Socialist Party's arm and hammer symbol—much more romantic than rumors he was named after baking soda), made billions from Occidental Petroleum. He was a ferocious collector of Impressionst art, a sought-after philanthropist and a generous supporter of Richard Nixon and the Republican party. The art he and his brother accumulated eventually became the Hammer Museum, located in UCLA's Los Angeles neighborhood.

The Mandala Project 's two-week program showcased (literally) the construction of a sacred Tibetan sand painting created by Llamas visiting Los Angeles from the Thubten Choeling Monastery in Pharping, Nepal. In the Tibetan tradition, mandalas represent the unity and interdependence of all things and are created to provide a focal point for meditation. The Llamas, led by Ari Bhod , worked every day for two weeks in a small, glass-enclosed rooom meticulously sprinkling colored grains of sand onto a sacred architectural blueprint. The culmination was the sweeping of the completed mandala into sacred vessels. The Llamas then lead a procession to a Santa Monica beach where the sand was scattered to the wind over the waves of the Pacific Ocean.

Sunday, November 7 was the last day of the project so I hopped onto Wilshire Blvd. and parked in the underground garage adjacent to the museum (I've learned my lesson about the perils of LA street parking.) When I got upstairs to the exhibit at 10:45, twenty-five people were already there, watching the Llamas say prayers honoring the completion of the sand mandala. After about three hours, I was ready to move on. Man in the know behind me said, "Prayers will be over at noon".

"Noon?" "It must be at least 3:30"—it was 11:15. Patience, I thought, what else do I have to do.

Another two hours passed...11:30 Well, I've been here for 45 minutes, what's another 30. Man in the know said, "Yes, we donated $250,000 to the monastery. The Llamas won't take money for their labor, but they will accept donations for their charities." If the Llamas can be that selfless, I can surely wait another 30 minutes.

Oh look, there's movement in the glass room—scarlet-robed woman coming out—good sign. Shuffle into position and get ready for my reward, the viewing.

Short, chubby man in a bad suit and official badge motions me over and whispers, "You don't have the correct ticket, you'll have to get in line outside."

"But, I've been here since 10:45."

"Sorry, you have to have a beige paper ticket to be in the inside line ."

"But I bought my ticket when I came in."

"Sorry, that's the wrong ticket and we've run out of paper tickets. Please get in the line outside."

"But that line is all the way around the block."

"Sorry, that's nothing, you should have seen it yesterday."

Perilously close to slapping him and ruining the peace and tranquil Tibetian Llama vibe, I gave up and went to the gift shop.

After walking around the rest of the museum, having coffee, and listening to a panel discussion I did finally get in to see the mandalas. I'm glad I just gave up—during my pre-mandala viewing I met and exchanged email addresses with a lovely woman from Alta Dena. You just never know. Only token amounts of food were eaten and only by the Llamas, so there's no organic way to sneak in a recipe but here are a few shots of my experience.

Corner detail

An amateur mandala created by in-museum artists

Prayer benches

Hammer Museum lobby mural

I loved LA: Guacamole

Marla Nichols — Tue, 12 Mar 2013 17:32:09 GMT

Home again to the drizzle--sunny LA but a memory. Having a bit of space again does offset the spontaneous dance a big city offers: 800 square feet instead of 500, a place to park minus the roving, no more combat grocery shopping, six highway lanes instead of twelve, a window view that travels over trees, roofs, and water instead of stopping at a tall, brown fence. Ah yes, 'tis good to be home.

Here's a parting glance at my last museum adventure: the Norton Simon. It used to be my favorite, but this time, it seemed a bit stogy. Los Angeles offers me more surprises than Pasadena does. Although I do love seeing the Norton Simon regulars, I find much more provocation and stimulus at the LACMA. It will be interesting to see how the LACMA/MOCA merger goes this year. Stay tuned.

"Monument to Balzac", Auguste Rodin

"Portrait of a Peasant", Vincent van Gogh

"Woman with Mandolin", Pablo Picasso

"Woman with a Book", Pablo Picasso

"Portrait of the Artist's Wife", Amedeo Modigliani

"Open Green", Vasily Kandinsky

I'm not cooking much these days, but avocados ripen anyway. I made a batch of guacamole last night and remembered how truly quick and easy it is to make. If you are jonesin' for some guac and chips, don't buy pre-made; take a few minutes and make your own.

Guacamole

Halve and core a couple avocados. Remove seeds, scoop out insides with a big spoon into a bowl. Mush up with potato masher or pie crust thingy. Add a few tablespoons of diced tomatoes (if you like), squeeze at least one lime or lemon into the mix, add fine dice of onion (if you like), 1/2 fine diced Serrano (if you like), chopped cilantro (if you like), enough salt to balance the tartness of the lime. Don't skimp on lime and salt--they spark up the otherwise blandness of the avocado.

Honest, it won't take but a bit of time.

LACMA's star power: Short rib sliders

Marla Nichols — Sun, 03 Mar 2013 21:54:11 GMT

In 1969, Stanley Kubrick's 2001, A Space Odyssey bewildered me: my Midwestern psyche and my 27 year old brain were not ready for apes, jawbones, and HAL. Forty four years later, I am still bewildered. "2012: A Kubrick Odyssey", currently on exhibit at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, covers the breadth of Kubrick's artistic career beginning with his 1940s photographs, continuing through his 1999 film, "Eyes Wide Shut". The exhibit opened in December to enthusiastic crowds with thematically arranged rooms showcasing original movie props, annotated scripts, movie cameras, set models, costumes, looping film clips, and storyboard drawings.

Malcolm McDowell's hat and cane from Clockwork Orange

Chair from 2001: A Space Odyssey

the Space Odyssey baby

The twins' dresses from The Shining

The exhibit, into its third month, draws large crowds but imposes no time restraints and allows for ease of movement and the opportunity to linger and inspect. We spent at least two hours walking back and forth between Barry Lyndon, The Shining, Lolita, 2001, Full Metal Jacket, and Dr. Strangelove.

We left Kubrick and Full Metal Jacket in 1967 and walked directly into "Bodies and Shadows: Caravaggio And His Legacy". It took a few minutes to adjust to the seismic shift from the Vietnamese War to 16th Century Italy, but soon enough we were caught up in the dramatic violence of suffering martyrs and stern patrons.

Caravaggio, "Self-portrait"

Caravaggio, "St. Francis of Assisi"

Carlo Saraceni, "The Martyrdom of Saint Cecilia"

We exited through the gift shop and turned the corner, fast forwarding back into the 21st Century and the disturbing photography of Robert Mapplethorpe. It is not an exhibit that encourages lingering, so we moved right along and headed straight for my favorite part of the LACMA, Eli Broad's Contemporary Art Museum, designed by architect, Renzo Piano. The Broad changed Los Angeles' museum landscape, bringing the axis of the global art world closer to the west coast, Hollywood, movie stars, the sun, and the surf.

Renzo Piano, The Broad Contemporary Art Museum

Jeff Koons, "Cracked Egg" and "Balloon Dog"

Andy Warhol, "Campbell Soup Can"

Maxed out on beauty and ready for lunch, we walked outside to see Michael Heizer's "Levitated Mass", a 340 ton granite boulder hauled through the streets of LA on a flatbed truck, and installed atop a concrete barrier adjacent to 6th Street.

Michael Heizer, "Levitated Mass"

Every day, three to four blocks of food trucks park across the street from the LACMA, offering global alternatives to the Caesar salad and turkey sandwich served by the museum cafe. We wandered down the block hemming and hawing: Mediterranean, Mexican, Cajun, French, German, Alligator, turkey, vegan, cupcakes?? Limited to our ability to eat only one lunch, Bob chose a Mexican pulled-pork sope, and I chose a short rib slider. We waited on the sidewalk for about five minutes, paid less than $10 for both, and ate on the curb in the LA sunshine.

Short-Rib Sliders

Makes approximately 30 sliders

• 6 lb. boneless beef short ribs
• ½ inch water in roasting pot

Spice Mix:
• 2 T salt
• 1 T celery salt
• 1 T smoked paprika
• 2 tsp. ground cumin
• 2 tsp. garlic powder
• 1 T cracked black pepper
• 2 tsp. ground cayenne pepper
• 2 tsp. mustard powder
• 2 T dark-brown sugar

Pour a 1⁄2 inch of water in the bottom of a roasting pot. In a small bowl, combine the salts, spices, and brown sugar; reserve 2 T of the spice mix for the sauce. Rub spice mix onto all sides of the ribs, and place them on the roasting rack in the prepared pan.

Cover tightly with a lid or foil and bake 6 to 7 hours, or until the meat is very tender. Remove pan from the oven, and let stand until ribs are cool enough to handle. Shred meat into bite-size pieces, discarding any fat or sinew. Toss with warm BBQ sauce

BBQ Sauce

• 1⁄2 lb. bacon, chopped
• 1 medium onion, finely chopped
• 8 cloves garlic, minced
• 4 plum tomatoes, chopped
• 2 T spice mix (reserved from ribs recipe, above)
• 4 T Worcestershire sauce
• 2 cups ketchup
• 1⁄3 cup apple-cider vinegar
• 3 T dark-brown sugar
• 1⁄2 cup strong coffee

Heat a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottom pot over medium heat, and add the bacon. Cook, stirring, until the bacon is browned and crispy. Add the onion, garlic, tomato, and spice mix and continue cooking, stirring occasionally until the onion begins to soften. Add remaining ingredients, and bring to a low simmer. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, for 30 minutes.

View from the top, the Getty Center: Preserved Lemons

Marla Nichols — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 15:58:19 GMT

In the old days, you found a job by answering ads in the Help Wanted section. In 1982, after moving from Vashon Island to Los Angeles, I spent my mornings on the phone calling for line cook interviews. One of these calls led to an appointment at the Getty Museum Cafe in Malibu. Any kitchen job interview in Los Angeles included a try out--you either worked the line during service or prepared a meal with test ingredients. The Getty used the test ingredient method: after I passed the face-to-face interview with the restaurant manager, he handed me a full grocery sack and said, "Make lunch for four." I don't remember what the ingredients were but I did not get the job. I did spend the rest of the afternoon at the museum, fell in love with the Getty, and a painting by Bouguereau, A Young Girl Defending Herself against Eros. We have a print that hangs in the bathroom so I see it everyday, but it is still wonderful to see it in person amidst such splendor.

In 2006, the J. Paul Getty Museum re-opened at the Getty Center in Brentwood and houses European paintings, drawings, sculpture, illuminated manuscripts, decorative arts, and European and American photographs. Getty's extensive collection of Greek, Roman, and Etruscan antiquities remained in Malibu at the re-named Getty Villa.

Spring, Lawrence Alma-Tadema

Seated Cardinal, Giacomo Manzu

Portrait of Jeanne Kefer, Fernand Khnopff

Head with Horns, Paul Gauguin

The 1.3 billion dollar Getty Center campus, designed by architect Richard Meier, sits on a 110-acre site in the Santa Monica Mountains above Interstate 405, surrounded by 600 acres which will be kept in its natural state.

The Central Garden, designed by Robert Irwin, is alone worth a trip to the Getty.

Costco has Meyer lemons again, so it's preserving time. This year I made my usual Dennis Kaniger brand lemons under oil plus a jar of Moroccan preserved lemons. The most difficult part of the Moroccan recipe was finding a suitable jar. Squeezing two or three lemons in the bottom of a glass jar is difficult if the jar doesn't have a wide mouth. Once that problem in taken care of, the rest goes swimmingly. And at $14.99 per jar (Sur La Table), it's worth the effort.

Preserved Lemons in oil

Scrub lemons, cut both ends off and cut in half from end to end.

Slice each half into ¼” slices (if they’re too narrow, they’ll fall apart) removing seeds as you go.

Layer lemon slices in colander, salting each layer liberally with Kosher salt.

Let drain 48 hours. Discard drained liquid.

Rinse with cold water—gently, gently (I use the spray attachment to the sink faucet).

Don’t be too vigorous with the rinsing—you’re better off to err on too much salt than to have lemon slices in total disarray.

Drain as much water off as you see fit—overnight works. After a good drain in the colander, I spread them out on a kitchen towel and pat. Toss gently with additional salt (not as much, however, as you used in the first step).

The placing-preserved-lemons-in-a-container step can be done with as much or as little abandon as you prefer. I have dumped a batch in a jar, covered it with oil and have also very carefully—keeping Martha Stewart in mind (the precise Martha, not the indicted Martha)—fanned each slice separately. The taste isn’t affected—but the visual is.

Layer the lemon slices, adding garlic, herbs or other flavoring and cover with oil (1 part olive and 1 part salad). The preserving process seems to force oil out of the containers, making a nasty mess, so put the lemon-filled containers on plates. Be sure to cover the slices completely as the exposed parts will mold.

Let them develop in the refrigerator for a least two weeks (I’ve eaten them within three days) or as long as you can wait. I’ve never been able to keep a batch for more than two or three months, so I don’t really know how long they would keep.

Moroccan Preserved Lemons

9 lemons (preferably Meyer)

kosher coarse salt

Large wide-mouth glass jar

The trick here is to use as wide a jar as you can find. Squeezing six lemons into a glass jar is more difficult than the recipes say.

Wash and dry 9 lemons. Reserve three lemons for juicing. Quarter six lemons, leaving 1/2 inch of the bottom of the lemon uncut.

Sprinkle 1-2 tablespoons of coarse salt inside 6 lemons and reshape the fruit.

Juice the remaining three lemons.

Place about 3 tablespoons kosher salt in the bottom of mason jar. Add a layer of salted lemons, then sprinkle kosher salt, then another layer of salted lemon. Repeat until the jar is 3/4 full. Add lemon juice to fill jar, leaving a little space to account for the lemon juice that will come from the salted lemons.

Seal jar and store at room temperature. Turn upside down every few days.

Lemons will be ready in about a month when the rind is soft.

Rinse lemons before using in a recipe. Usually only the rind is called for, but I use the pulp as well.

Dogs in clothes: Muffulettas, Red beans and rice

Marla Nichols — Mon, 18 Feb 2013 16:49:24 GMT

I've mentioned a time or two that I don't have a dog. I've heard the old warning to actors: never share the stage with a child or an animal and as a blogger, I should never criticize dogs, but ten minutes into a conversation with a dog owner, the subject of problems comes up. A Lab that chewed through the minivan's seat belt; a Shepard that dragged the Christmas prime rib into the back yard; a Terrier that uses the dining room rug as a cat box; a twelve-year old Spaniel that requires two daily shots of subcutaneous fluids; an Irish setter that bolts for traffic each time the front door is opened; a Bichon that chewed its back until forced to wear a megaphone collar. And all dogs eliminate. When did the masters of the universe start following their dogs around with little plastic bags? Dog owners are rewarded with thumping tails, adoring eyes, and enthusiastic welcomes and I'm not immune to fuzzy ears, a moist nose, and a noble face; but until they come up with a dog that doesn't poop or bark, count me out.

Neither am I immune to the charm of a parade. Last Saturday at The Grove, when I came out of a dark movie into the California sunshine, I heard a brass band playing. It was the New Orleans Traditional Jazz Band leading The Farmer's Market's annual Mutti Gras Pet Parade & Costume Contest. Proud owners threw beads, bones, and trinkets into the throng, dogs sniffed and barked, petparazzi snapped and videoed, children shrieked with delight--everyone had a great time.

The things you do for love.

About to bite the hand that feeds him.

They stretched the parade rules to include Bam Bam Bunny the Bumblebee.

Old Pasadena money.

"Not my first born, your Majesty!"

OMG, this is so cool, this is so cool!

His majesty, King of the 2013 Mutti Gras Pet Parade

The runners up

Even if Marti Gras is over and we're into Lent, there's always room for Muffulettas and red beans and rice.

Muffulettas with Olive Salad (Costco and Trader Joe's sells perfectly good olive salad)

Olive Salad:

1-cup green olives, pitted and chopped coarse
1-cup black olives, pitted and chopped coarse
½ cup sliced pepperoncini
½ cup pickled onion
½ cup oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, drained and chopped
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
1-teaspoon dried oregano
2 tsp. minced garlic
2-tablespoons red wine vinegar
½ -cup extra-olive oil

For the olive salad: Pulse olives, pepperoncini and onions separately to coarse chop and place in medium-sized bowl. Add tomatoes, parsley, oregano, garlic—stir to combine. Add vinegar and oil, stir together, cover, and refrigerate for at least 8 hours.

Muffuletta:

Mortadella
Sliced provolone
Sliced ham
Sliced salami

To assemble the sandwich: Cut the bread in half horizontally and remove most of the interior crumb. Sprinkle small amount of red wine vinegar and olive oil on top side.

Place olive salad in the hollowed-out bottom and top with the sliced mortadella, provolone, ham, and salami. Top with the remaining olive salad, wrap the sandwich tightly in plastic wrap, and press it between two plates, using a few heavy cans on top as weights.

Place the weighted sandwich in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes or up to 6 hours. Before serving, unwrap the sandwich and cut it into wedges.

Red Beans and Rice

1 lb. dry red beans
4 quarts water
2 meaty ham hocks
8 cups beef or chicken stock
4 bay leaves
1/2 tsp. thyme
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. black pepper
1 lb. Andouille
2 cups chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped celery
bell pepper, chopped
1 bunch green onions, chopped
1Tbsp. minced garlic
1 lb. Andouille sausage
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Red wine vinegar, to taste

4 cups cooked hot rice

Hot pepper sauce, to taste (Tabasco or Frank's)

Wash beans and soak overnight in the water. The next day, drain beans and wash well under cold running water.

Place beans, ham hocks, and stock in a heavy 6-8 quart stock pot or Dutch oven. The beans should be covered by about 2-3 inches of liquid; add more liquid if necessary. Bring to a boil and skim any scum that collects on the surface. Reduce heat to a simmer and add the bay leaves, thyme, cayenne and black pepper. Simmer for 30 minutes while you prepare the vegetables.

Chop 1/4 Pound of the Andouille into 1/4 inch pieces. Place it in a 12-inch cast-iron frying pan. Saute for 5 minutes to render the fat and brown the meat.

Add chopped onion and celery and cook until the vegetables are soft, about 10 minutes. Add bell pepper, green onions and garlic. Cook an additional 5 minutes, then add to the simmering pot of red beans.

Continue to cook beans until they are soft and some begin to break apart, about another hour. Allow the beans to cool; refrigerate, covered, overnight or for up to 4 days.

When ready to serve, bring beans to a simmer. Cut remaining Andouille into 1/4 inch slices and add to beans. Cook in the beans for about 10 minutes. Taste the beans for salt and pepper and correct if necessary; add a little vinegar if you wish. To serve, place about 1/2 cup rice in center of each plate, spoon beans over rice. Serve with hot pepper sauce. Makes 8 servings

Let's do lunch: All purpose secret sauce

Marla Nichols — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 17:42:09 GMT

Los Angeles is a loosely wound sprawl of distinctive clusters--think a congested Europe. Newcomers with savvy and a trust fund will match their personality with a specific location. Hipster? Head for Silver Lake or Echo Park. Arty? Go directly downtown. Like to party and not too paranoid about crime? Hollywood is your ticket. A bit eccentric? Venice is the place for you. Money no object? Live large in Beverly Hills, Pacific Palisades, Malibu, or Bel Air. Like to surf? Manhattan Beach. Good schools your hook? Settle down in Brentwood or the Valley. Rich, surfer dude with kids? Welcome to Santa Monica. Or, those who would not consider spending $300 for a pair of used boots can just buckle down and find an affordable place with a commute they can tolerate.

Mid-city La Brea Avenue used to fit into the light commercial box. In 1985, when City Restaurant opened on 180 S. La Brea, it shared sidewalks with car lots, small appliance repair shops, Hebrew schools, an ARCO station, and a Ralph's Market. The only serious competition for a decent bite to eat was at Pink's up on Melrose. Last week when Bob dropped me off on 4th and S La Brea, I could lunch at Meshuga 4 Sushi, the Sycamore Kitchen, Tinga, Muse on 8th; buy a special gift at Pulp, Rita Flora, or Mortise and Tenon; punch up my wardrobe at Self Edge, The Glamour Closet, The Way We Wore, What Goes Around Comes Around; pick out pricey furniture at Little Paris Antiques, Plantation, the LA Rocking Chair Store, Mix Design, or Cisco Home; have a coffee at Graffiti, a croissant at Ca' Brea, or a burger at Umami--which is what I did.

Umami Burger is the ultimate west coast burger experience, complete with valet parking. It's a small place, with small tables, and a long waiting line. No doubt about it, I loved my burger. Also enjoyed eavesdropping on a screenplay pitch between two twenty-something movie mogul wannabes.

Spiky hair with big glasses

Picture a CIA operative who ends up on Skid Row with no memory...at all. Think Zero Dark Thirty on a park bench.

Shaven head with hoodie

I'd have to run it by the suits. I'm PA for a teen zombie space flick in development. Sort of a Warm Bodies meets the Ninja Turtles.

SHWBG

Well, I'm ready to roll. Made the money, saved the money, want to commit.

SHWH

Send me a treatment--we'll throw it up and see who shoots.

Not kidding about the conversation.

Plantation, 144 South La Brea

Little Paris Antiques, 612 S. La Brea

The Way We Wore, 334 S. La Brea
Zoom in on the $295 price tag of those boots! Guess I won't be throwing out my old stompers.

Mix Design, 442 S. La Brea

The Umami burger I had for lunch came with secret sauces. Secrets just want to be free and secret sauces are no exception. Everyone one has their own secret sauce: MacDonald's, KFC, T-shirt "chefs" on TV, In-N-Out Burger--and the recipe for each pops up when Googled. So much for secrets. Seems like they all start with mayonnaise and ketchup. Here's my secret sauce--feel free to pass it along.

Click on link below for Secret Sauce recipe (we're keeping it a secret).

secret sauce recipe

Bring a sharp knife: Asian dressing, Shiitake egg noodle soup

Marla Nichols — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 16:33:05 GMT

I was over-the-hill at thirty-two when I started cooking for money at Sound Food on Vashon Island. Jeffrey, the first eccentric chef I worked for, ignored my age and expected the same attention to detail he required from the twenty-year olds: a clean work area, a meticulous set-up, and sharp knives. I added punctuality and the absence of drug abuse to the list. It was assumed that I could consistently produce food that tasted good. By the time I began working for Milliken/Feniger, I had the scars, bunions, and endurance necessary to stay employed in Los Angeles.

At Sound Food, every month George sharpened all the kitchen knives in the back of his hippy van. In Los Angeles, cooks used and sharpened their own knives. The butcher and the prep guys flamboyantly sharpened their knives to stilettos on leather strops, grinding pads, and long steels. Most of the line cooks went to Anzen Hardware in downtown's Little Tokyo and handed over their tools to Mr. Takatani.

At home a few months ago, I dropped my favorite knife on a tile floor and broke off the point. It still chopped, minced, and diced but was not its full, beautiful self. So last week in Los Angeles, I went to Anzen Hardware in Little Tokyo and handed over my broken knife to Mr. Takatani. Same guy, same wooden floors, same selection of Japanese cooking tools--some things do stay the same.

Next door to Anzen is a Japanese bakery with artistically displayed pastries in the window. Would that the sweet beauties tasted as good as they looked. We chose an assortment from under the glass, the counterperson arranged them in a bento-styled box, and we took them home for the 8:00 pm bewitching hour. The mochi covering was tasty, but the red bean paste filling, not so much. Anyways, not to these western taste buds.

On our way back to the car we had a quick bowl of ramen --not a life-changing, flavor bomb but tasty enough. I'm always sure the elusive "best-of" place is next door. The 4:00 10, 101, 110 westbound traffic didn't disappoint and we were glad to finally inch off the freeway at our exit.

Jeffrey's Asian dressing

1 cup soy sauce
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon honey or agave
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1/4 jalapeno, minced
1/2 bunch cilantro, chopped

Blend ingredients together and store in refrigerator for up to a month.

Silken Tofu Dressing

1/2 pound firm silken tofu
1/2 cup buttermilk
3 tablespoons ketchup
2 tablespoons sweet pickle relish
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Add all of the ingredients into a blender and combine until smooth. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to a week. Serve as a dressing for a salad, as a sauce for a hamburger or a dipping sauce for vegetables.

Shiitake Egg Noodle Soup

8 cups chicken stock
2 ounces dried mixed mushrooms, such as porcini or shiitake, about 2 cups
10 coin-sized pieces of peeled fresh ginger
5 cloves garlic, smashed
1 tablespoon oil
1 pound fresh mixed mushrooms, such shiitake caps or cremini, thinly sliced
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
4 large eggs
1 tablespoon soy sauce
8 ounces cooked noodles (udon, somen, buckwheat/soba, or ramen)
1 to 2 ounces enoki mushrooms, optional
4 scallions, green part only, thinly sliced on the bias
Gomashio or sansho pepper, for seasoning

In a large soup pot bring the chicken stock to a boil along with the dried mushrooms, ginger, and garlic. Adjust the heat to a gentle simmer and cook for 30 minutes. Turn off the heat and let steep, 30 more minutes.

While the broth steeps: Melt the oil over medium high heat in a large nonstick skillet, add the sliced fresh mushrooms and cook until crisp and brown, about 10 minutes. Season the mushrooms with salt and pepper, to taste, and distribute them evenly between 4 soup bowls.

Put the eggs in a small saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, turn off heat, cover, and let cook until almost soft boiled, 3 to 4 minutes. Immediately rinse the eggs with cold water and set aside.

Strain the broth. Reheat and season with soy sauce and salt to taste. Distribute noodles, enoki mushrooms, if using, and scallions evenly in each soup bowl. Crack a soft-boiled egg into each bowl (to maintain the eggs' shape, take care to peel them carefully, or use as small spoon to free them from the shell). Ladle 2 cups of hot broth into each bowl. Sprinkle furikake, gomashio or shansho pepper over the soup, if desired, and serve immediately

From 60 to zero in 20 minutes: Shrimp quesadillas

Marla Nichols — Wed, 30 Jan 2013 16:17:11 GMT

One of the lures of a big city is the possibilities it offers. In LA you can find a performance to suit any interest. Are sports your hook? Go see the Lakers, the Dodgers, the Kings, (still no football team), UCLA, Stanford, USC. More of an artsy person? Listen to Gustavo Dudamel and the LA Phil, Andrea Bocelli, the LA Opera; see the Joffrey Ballet, Robert Mapplethorp at the Getty, Kodo (Japan's premier drumming ensemble), Ganesh Versus the Third Reich at the UCLA Freud Playhouse. Money burning a hole in your pocket? Buy a $30,000 watercolor at the LA Art Show. Music more your ticket? choose from Ben Folds Five, The Who, B.B. King, the Dirty Dozen Brass Band or just take a chance and attend any concert at the Hollywood Bowl, the Greek Theater, the Troubadour, or Walt Disney Hall. Like a good movie? Don't even ask. Outdoorsy? Grab your towel and head for the beach. Want to get away? Jump in your Land Rover and drive to the mountains.

Yesterday we chose the last option--without the Land Rover. In LA, residential spaces are tight, freeway lanes are inches apart, grocery shopping is a blood sport: wherever you go, you compete for a place. Once in a while, you have to get out and breathe. Our deep breath started with a drive through the canyons. We left the flatlands of Pico Boulevard, went as far west as we could go, turned right on the Pacific Coast Highway, and within 20 minutes we were the only car in sight, driving up the twisty, twirly, Kanan Dume Road through Trancas Canyon to Woodland Hills.

Canyon vineyards

Must be a canyon winery.

"What the what?"

Later that day, we took advantage of another LA possibility and went east to see Backbeat at the Ahmanson Theatre. We drove along surface streets, by-passing the freeways and heavy traffic, spending time instead at endless stop lights. Anyways, we got a chance to see Los Angeles blend from Pico Boulevard's body shops, bodegas, and lavanderias to downtown's skyscrapers, condominiums, the Mark Taper Forum, the Ahmanson, the Walt Disney Concert Hall, and the Museum of Contemporary Art.

Mark Taper Forum (photo from Flickr by Chimay Bleue)

Frank Geary's Walt Disney Concert Hall (picture © Doug Kim)

Before being seated elbow-to-elbow in a tightly packed balcony row, we shared a plate of shrimp quesadillas in the outdoor courtyard and snagged an over-priced plastic box of Jelly Bellies from the lobby bar. As we were entering the theater, the door guard said, "Be sure you open that box before you go in, and .... Eat quietly!"

Shrimp Quesadillas

Sauté rock shrimp briefly in hot oil or use cooked Oregon bay shrimp.

Butter one side of a flour tortilla, place butter-side down in cast iron skillet. Add combination of shredded jack and cheddar cheese, sautéed shrimp, a sprinkle of canned diced green chilies, a sprinkle of chopped tomatoes, and a second layer of grated cheese.

When bottom of tortilla is browned and cheese is melted, add second tortilla with butter side up. Smash down with a spatula to glue two tortillas together and turn tortilla over. Heat second side until tortilla is brown and cheese is melted.

If you're interested, here's a PDF file of last year's Marla in the Kitchen including recipes.