Thursday, March 11, 2010
Meal on the way to NY
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Berry Sauce
Basically, the less embarrassing version of this story would be..."out of hunger and rummaging through my pantry..." I found plain yogurt, granola, frozen strawberries, blueberries, and raspberry jam...thus resulting in making a berry sauce for a PARFAIT!
Berry sauce recipe:
1/2 frozen strawberries
1 handful of dried wild blueberries
1/4 cup ginger ale
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon raspberry jam
Put the frozen strawberries, ginger ale, and balsamic in a small pot and let come to a boil.
When it boils turn down the heat to a medium until the strawberries look completely defrosted.
Add the dried blueberries, honey, and raspberry jam. Let it come back up to a boil.
Add lemon juice, and turn down to a simmer and let simmer for about 10 mins or until the liquid has reduced by 1/4 or until it looks like a syrup.
let cool.
serve with ice cream, yogurt, or whatever you like to have berry syrup/ sauce with!
It's so good! It's amazing what things you can concoct right out of your pantry!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Peanut Butter
Then I finally interrupt, "Apples and peanut butter? What?" As if to make a joke.
To their surprise, I had never had apples with peanut butter.
"But you've had ants on a log?" (peanut butter and celery with raisins, my personal favorite childhood DIY finger food), they ask.
"Well...yeah!"
We all laugh as one of my girlfriends quickly jumps up and rushes to the kitchen bringing out a box of pre-sliced apples, a large jar of ooey-gooey peanut butter, and a butter knife and quickly assembles a "peanut butter and apple hors d'oeuvre" for me.
Man...I could not believe I've missed out on this all my life! I've been hooked ever since! And I'm reliving my peanut butter infatuation that I had had growing up.
Since then I've been trying different things to dip in peanut butter. So far, I've found that granny smith apples taste the best with the peanut butter because the tartness and crispness of the apple really balances out the sticky richness of the peanut butter. And to my surprise, which may seem a bit alarming, is that sliced mangoes that are slightly less than ripe are also delicious with peanut butter. I'm seriously working in peanut butter into every afternoon snack. YUM!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Marking My Calendar
MARCH 27, 2010 Redondo Beach, CA is holding it's 2nd Ever Clam Chowder Cook Off! MmmmMMM yum! And it's calling my name!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Gastro Pub
I'm talking Haven Gastropub.
Forget about the average Joe food you find at ordinary pubs, we're talking GASTROpub, it's down home comfort food with a non-pretentious upscale twist.
Let me start by saying..."Mmmm...Steak Frites!" The butcher back in France who decided to keep the hanger steak all to himself was a genius! Haven's version of this French classic makes my mouth water. They make a mean medium rare steak (my own preference ofcourse) with this rich, savory, chocolate sauce...O MY GOD...did I mention that this makes my mouth water? And their pomme frites are among the best I've had. I guess you could call them shoe string fries, but they're crisp and cooked to perfection and then sprinkled with salt, pepper, and rosemary AND it's served with their house made ketchup...which tastes like it has...applesauce (?) in it. SO good.
I got to tell you, their truffle mac and cheese is killer as well! It's like this rich, creamy, silky white cheese sauce topped with more cheese and bread crumbs. SO, you know what that means? Yup, stretchy cheese, creamy cheese, AND a crisp nutty top. I seriously ran my spoon across every corner of that bowl to get all the sauce I could. I would have licked it clean if I weren't in public...(ok so it WAS a pub...and you're usually allowed to be as crazy and embarrassing as you want, but the "gastro" that comes before the word pub means you have to hold back a little bit. But no one's stopping me from using my side order of pomme frites to sop up the sauce).
And, ok, get this...HELLO! it's affordable! A no brainer for me when I'm looking to spoil myself without dreading the bill.
Great food, extensive beer list (if you're a beer connoisseur), and great atmosphere! Spotted Pig, New York...HERE I COME!
Westlake Beef Soup: Getting Back to My Roots
Larb
Larb, (which can also be spelled larp or laarp) is common in Southeast Asian cuisine like Northern Thai or Lao cooking, and its a kind of ground meat salad. I know, I know...ground meat salad? It doesn't sound all that appetizing to all palates but I urge you to give it a try--especially if you have a love for Southeast Asian flavors and want to include some dishes from that region into your healthy eating repertoire.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Cookie of Hearts
SURPRISE! A heart shaped cookie!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Holiday Cookies
Preheat the oven to 350F / 180C degrees - racks in the top and bottom third of the oven. Line a couple baking sheets with unbleached parchment paper or a Silpat mat, and place the large-grain sugar in a small bowl. Set aside.
Heat the butter in a saucepan until it is just barely melted. Remove from heat and stir in the molasses, sugar, and fresh ginger. The mixture should be warm, but not hot at this point, if it is hot to the touch let it cool a bit. Whisk in the egg. Pour this over the flour mixture, and stir until just combined. Fold in the chocolate. Be careful as to not over mix. The dough should be moist but not sticky.
For me this recipe made about 45 cookies but it varies depending on how large or small you decide to make them.
VOILA! Delicious gingery cookies! Enjoy!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Animal
The menu is printed every so often, which I can assure you, makes for an option of great seasonal items.
By the way, my boyfriend and I sat next to Alex Guarnaschelli, Chopped judge and executive chef of Butter Restaurant. Bonus! (That's how you know the restaurant is good, when esteemed chefs dine there...not to mention, if you watched "Best Thing I Ever Ate" on Food Network, Animal is home to Duff's favorite, bacon crunch bar...HELLO bacon and chocolate!! c'mon!)
This was the very first time I tried sweet breads. I've heard nothing but amazing things about sweet breads in general, and I've always been a little skeptical about trying them. Let's see, animal thymus...not exactly on my "I'm dying to try it" list. But, it was on my boyfriend's and I thought, "What better place to try sweet breads than Animal, plus its affordable!" So there began my new found love for thymus! It was crispy and caramelized on the outside and smooth and creamy on the inside. It had a really delicate offal flavor, not off-putting as I often find in liver. It tasted of savory crusty meat, then a slight irony flavor right at the end. It was amazing...heavenly offal. I don't know how often you hear about offal being heavenly, but this was pretty damn good!
For my entree, I had the steak with fondue. And may I say, this was great! The fondue was extremely smooth and flavorful--tasted almost like a dense, cheesy, bachamel sauce. That poured over a perfectly done med-rare meaty steak...can a girl ask for anything more?! Granted, Animal is a diet breaker, but well worth it. As if I haven't emphasized enough...this was Food&Wine Magazine's 2009 rising chef's pick and it's incredibly friendly on the pocket! Enjoy~
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Eating Los Angeles Day 1
Los Angeles is too often criticized for being a smoggy, disney-fied urban sprawl that, on the surface, lacks real culture of any sort. Known for being either a little too plastic or a little too seedy, it's a city of reinvention. Countless people have moved to LA in hopes of making it big, bringing with them luggage over-flowing with myths of the American Dream. Guns and gangs, big sunglasses and ritzy hotels--LA has got it all. It's noir, it's glamour, it's lies, it's hopes--really, it's whatever you want it to be.
There have been mixed feelings about this autopia. Characterized by it's lack of public transportation and it's abundance of freeways with far too much traffic to tolerate. So many writers have tried to analyze LA and it's effect on people. Los Angeles a city where distopia and utopia cannot be distinguished from one another. It's no metropolis like Chicago, and it's no New York (and I'm sure I'm not the first one to tell you that), it's an urban sprawl, and when you look beyond the less than flattering skyline and beyond the glitz that is Hollywood, you'll find culture. Culture in the form of amazingly authentic and delicious food.
Jonathan Gold did it, and now it's my turn. Time to start eating my way through Los Angeles.
My journey starts here:
--DAY 1--
As I exited the elevator and walked towards the opening to the Grand Central Market in Los Angeles, an over-whelming sense of joy surged through my body. A smile from ear to ear involuntarily plasters itself across my face. An indoors "open-air" market in the heart of downtown LA? Please tell me what could be better?! A sure sign that this city is doing something right: offering its people a haven of damn good food!
To my surprise, Grand Central is incredibly clean! Bright fruit and veggies stacked in neat rows and columns. Aromas from food stands penetrate the air--tacos, tortas, pupusas, and fresh fruit juices galore. Let's get real for a second--I'm not here for the produce, it's offal heaven and it's o so amazing.
Where have you been all my life?
The counter was swarming with people! A sure sign that this was a good place to start eating.
There were huge vats of nasty bits (my Anthony Bourdain plug for the day) swimming in the juices they were cooked in. Freshly fried gorditas were so piping hot that even the people making the "sandwiches" blew their hands in pain as they slit a pocket into the thick masa tortilla.
Gordita. Thick tortilla made with masa harina (corn flour), fried, pocketed, and stuffed with any part of the cow, in a stew form, you want--and I mean ANY part of the cow. I got the lengua. Thickly sliced pieces of cow tongue swimming in it's own brown cooking juices, too good to turn down. The piping hot gordita was overflowing with lengua, refried beans, guacamole, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cilantro, and a creamy white sauce (not sour cream!) and severd with a wedge of lime.
The baggy holding my over sized gordita, which should have been eaten like a sandwich, served absolutely no purpose in my case because there was no way I could have wrapped my mouth around this beast even if I wanted to. Thank goodness they gave me a fork and generous stack of napkins.
The shell is incredibly crispy and nutty in flavor. The lengua was tender and extremely flavorful. The lime and the overflowing condoments made this really heavy sandwich, much more refreshing.
More gorditas please!
FISH STAND! And they serve food! Best corn chip dip ever? Ceviche Pescado. Maria's Fresh Seafood has burritos and tacos filled with extremely fresh seafood. The one thing that caught my eye--ceviche pescado tostata. Ok, so maybe it doesn't LOOK like the most appetizing dish in the world, but you really can't go wrong with chopped up fish, tomatoes, jalapenos, cilantro and onions marinating/ cooked in lime juice served on top of a crispy corn tostada and a side of hot sauce.
Need something to wash all that food down with? I did. I grabbed myself nice cup of Fresa (a strawberry drink) to wash down all that food with. It was a slightly creamy strawberry drink that tasted like melted Hagan Daz strawberry ice cream and had the color of peptobismol. And let me tell you, it was good!
So I couldn't leave this place without trying Chicharon, or pork skin. I've had my fair share of pork skin before, but never in taco form. Stewed in a tomato based sauce, the chicharon was complemented very well by the usual taco toppings: onions, guacamole, tomatoes, and cilantro. If you've never had pork skin before, the texture is quite a trip--it's nothing like you'd expect it to be. If you were to cut a mattress in half and view the cross-section, that's just about what the cross section of chicharon looks like magnified. Hollowed compartments sandwiched between two smooth layers. The hollowed compartments is what makes chicharon so amazingly delicious because it traps all the sauces and juices it was cooked in, so when you bite into it, the chicharon compartments releases all those juices making it incredibly flavorful--like an edible sponge. The texture itself is comparable to a cross between...well...a sponge...and agar. The texture is really unique and difficult to compare to a commonly eaten food product, it's something that I believe you're going to have to experience yourself.
Pupuseria. What is it?
I was planning on leaving after endulging in three different foods at three different food stands, but upo leaving, I noticed a stand that I had walked by twice and didn't notice. And before you ask me, "How do you miss an entire food stand?", I'll give you an explanation--it was because I walked passed the back side of it, so really, there was no way to tell that there was food on the other side!
BUT! I made up for it by trying one!
I had no idea what a pupusa was until this very moment. I literally spent 10 minutes watching the lady behind the counter effortlessly pat out balls of masa, fill them with some sort of white mixure with green flecks in it (it looked like mashed potatoes), which I later discovered was a delicious cheese mixture, patting them into a stuffed pancake and throwing them on the grittle one by one. They had a long list of fillings and sides for your pupusa--queso, jalapenos, chicharon, etc. I would have gotten the chicharon, except for the fact that I had just eaten a chicaron taco just minutes ago. And after starring at the menu for about another 10 mins I decided on the queso and jalapeno filling for my pupusa.
I know, I know, it sounds greasy, rich, and filling right? Wrong! Well it was filling, but to my surprise, it wasn't greasy at all! The cheese was stringy and flavorful, and by no means did they skimp on the pickled jalapenos in the filling. It was incredibly simple but really good. The pupusa was topped with a spicy pickled cabbage, comparable to Chinese/ Taiwanese pickeled cabbage and it was a great crisp complement to the pupusa.
Did I mention that Grand Central Market its right across the street from Angel's Flight? Two birds with one stone! A great way to end the day--sitting on a park bench in Angel's Flight Park looking out at all the LA parking lots and scattered buildings.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Tounge-Numbingly Spicy
This would be the category that Szechuan food falls in--an ethereal hell.
What makes Szechuan food so uniquely delicious? Why, the Szechuan peppercorn of course.
This tiny little peppercorn packs not only a punch, but a numbing sensation so strange that it can only be compared to, well, Novocaine (in trace doses of course). Every mouthful of food cooked with these unassuming little pods really creates a crazy experience. It's still spicy, but the tingly feeling on your tongue is inescapable.
It's somewhat of a masochist feat--painful yet so satisfying.
Chung King in Monteray Park, California is the place where you go if you want the most authentic, amazingly delicious, and spicy food without having to go to China. Plus, you can really impress your friends when you tackle that plate of pepper covered chicken!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
As Promised: My Roy's Article
The dining area is crisp and clean. Every fork, every dark blue napkin, every spoon, every glass, every butter knife and plate in its proper place. Salad fork for a delicious seafood appetizer or a crisp green salad perhaps, entrée fork for one of Roy’s signature dishes: roasted macadamia nut mahi mahi, a fresh linen napkin atop a uniquely shaped bread dish, and a butter knife for the soft and creamy butter to spread on some warm bread. In front of the place setting sits a beautiful dark blue glass stem ware for the fine wine the sommelier will gladly recommend to accompany your meal and beside that sits a tall glass for a refreshing glass of ice water poured by your server from a large metal pitcher.
Within this vast space adorned with Hawaiian plants, photos, and ambiance, you’ll find a chaotic jungle of metal in the back of the restaurant that is Roy’s kitchen. A territory marked by the executive chef, executive sous chefs, sous chefs, and line cooks, prowling the jungle floor in their white and black chef’s coats and baseball caps marked by a variety of “Roy’s” logos. The terra cotta colored tile floors are covered with heavy duty rubber mats to prevent the staff from slipping if ever the floor were to get wet or greasy. Beyond this seemingly overwhelming mass of silver colored appliances, is a vast kitchen filled with brightly contrasting fruits, vegetables, and fresh combination of surf and turf. From apples to pineapples, to lettuce, to bean sprouts, to skewered scallops, to racks of lamb, to the array of colorful European sauces. The kitchen is where you see the “fusion” in the name Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion Restaurant come into play; Asian flavors and ingredients paired with European sauces.
Edgar Agbayani, executive sous chef at Roy’s Newport Beach, wears a black chefs coat with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on both of his forearms. He also wears a black Roy’s baseball cap with the Roy’s logo embroidered in white in the front center of the cap. The logo resembles a fancy, backwards lower case “y”. Embroidered in lavender thread reads: “Roy’s”, “Edgar Agbayani”, “sous chef”, on the left breast of his coal black coat. This now thirty-two year old accomplished young chef is of Filipino descent. He has a medium complexion, dark brown hair, and dark brown eyes that squint when he smiles.
The fine radio tunes of hip hop artist Wyclef featuring Akon and Lil Wayne “Dolla Dolla Bill” plays as the Edgar, his line cooks and other sous chef begin to prep for the day. They had just gotten a new sound system for inside the kitchen area. “We just got this, it’s out new toy.” The chefs and the line cooks chatted away as they scavenge away trying to find someone with a good CD in his/her car that they can bring in and play. Prep time is quite possibly the most important time of day; it entails getting the sauces ready and the mise en place; which in French means “to put in place.” This term commonly used in most kitchens means that everything will be organized, accessible, and ready to use when needed; whether it’s chopping veggies, dicing, chiffonading, pouring sauces into squeeze bottles, this is the mise en place process.
The lights in the front of the house dim. The light from the setting sun hazily shines in to the restaurant through the white wooden shutters. Soft Hawaiian music plays in the background. The ambiance is calm, yet cultured. Five o’clock, time to fire up the stove. Everyone puts on their chef faces. Let the cooking begin.
“Tzzz.” The sizzle of another piece of meat thrown on the grill.
The savory aromas traveling through the air makes my mouth salivate; I wondered how they were able to share the same room with all this amazing food and not want to indulge.
“Spencer you got that ribeye ready?” yelled Edgar.
“Ribeye right here.” Spencer yells back as he preps the dish for the ribeye.
The restaurant begins to slowly infiltrate with semi-formally dressed, hungry customers ready to indulge in some of Roy’s famous dishes.
“Buzz, buzz.” Here comes another table’s order.
“110, fire up one 110.”
“110” is the order number, so when Edgar calls out the numbers each and every line cook knows where to look, what to begin cooking; the kitchen works as a cohesive, well oiled machine. One mistake could mean disaster.
Edgar pulls out another perfectly marbled filet mignon from the reach in refrigerator just below his work station, which just so happens to also be located just below the shelf that holds the new stereo system which is now off.
He takes a pinch of salt, and while he’s seasoning the meat, he sarcastically says to me, “This is what we call controlled measuring”, he laughs. Edgar’s been with the restaurant and a chef long enough to “eye-ball” or estimate how much of each type of seasoning he needs without having to pull out a measuring utensil.
“Tzzz.” The filet mignon the hot grill top.
“Sunday is like meat night,” said Edgar with a smile on his face and a tone of relaxed humor, “everybody orders meats on Sundays.”
Who knows why Sundays are meat days really? Perhaps it’s because eating meat a good way to begin a new week; a big slab of juicy, tender, meaty protein on a bed of brightly blanched veggies, who can say for sure? But one thing is for sure, this means that today Edgar’s station is going to be busy, very busy. Cranking out the sirloins, ribs, racks of lamb, the desire for meat in the front of the house is unstoppable.
“Tzzz…” the meats atop the grill sizzle away.
Back in grade school, Edgar and his family used to have gatherings at his grandmother’s house at the end of the weekend in a little town called Rich Grove California. The family would buy whole pigs or whole cows and have family outings where they would dissect the large carcass and divide the meat. Being the young child he was, Edgar tried to help out wherever he could, keeping a close eye on what the adults were doing, and always wanting to take part in the culinary action. Once all the meat was divided up, they would have huge barbeques in celebration of being together as a family and of sharing in this fine experience with one another. The family would talk amongst themselves, converse, catch up, and wait for the delicious and fresh meat to come off the grill. The outdoor grill which had been heating up was now up to temperature. The family cook puts on his oven mitt, lifts the cover, and a huge ball of white smoke curls through the air and disappears into the atmosphere.
The smoky, mesquite smell coming from his grill station at Roy’s was distinct and pungent. The mesquite gave the meats a little extra something, a kick, a depth of flavor, and subtle intensity that you can’t get just by tossing meat in to a pan. Although mesquite is a common flavor associated with say—Texas barbeque—this smoky style of preparation is key in inducing the meats with a sweetness, a smoky goodness like no other.
The kitchen began to get hot; hotter than before, especially over the large grill that Edgar is working at. He tells me that it’s about 105 degrees Fahrenheit over the large glistening grill top. The grill is so hot that you can see the heat rippling in the air, almost like the ripples you see in an arid dessert. He didn’t even seem to break a sweat. He remained composed, with a smile on his face, and cranking out jokes when the moment permit; you could sense no tension coming from Edgar at all despite the semi-hectic chaos around him as the line cooks race back and forth from station to station garnishing dishes and plating.
“Spencer”, Edgar calls out to one of his line cooks, “I need more racks of lamb from the back.” Spencer quickly races out of the kitchen into the large walk-in fridge filled with meats and other perishable items that need to remain cool in order maintain optimum freshness, and grabs a few vacuumed packed racks of lamb. Spencer returns to the kitchen and begins to cut open the plastic seal from the racks of lamb and preps them for Edgar. Today, Spencer is Edgar’s right hand man; he helps Edgar with whatever he asks for; from prepping the sides to putting dishes under the salamander (also known as the broiler). Spencer is like Edgar’s apprentice; he wants to make sure that Spencer has all the necessary skills to advance in the kitchen hierarchy.
Standing next to grandma, young Edgar plays the role of apprentice. Grandma’s garden was a vast space, a garden, filled with squash, peppers, jalapenos, and tomatoes; many of which were ripe for the picking. The simple fact that Edgar could venture out into Grandma’s lush garden with a basket, return with as many brightly colored vegetables as his little muscles could carry, and within a matter of minutes and hours end up with a meal fascinated him. It was the heartiness of life and the cycle of foods that really captured Edgar’s attention. He loved chasing chickens and collecting fresh eggs from the hen houses for Grandma to cook. Sometimes, on sunny days, Grandma would sit out back with Edgar and teach him how to make tapioca and raisins. For Grandma, this may not have been a horribly difficult task, but it was one that Edgar enjoyed taking part in and sharing with her. It was the simplicity of it all that really captivated him.
“ Buzz, buzz.” Another order prints up, then another and another.
“Holy cow that’s a big one!” Edgar says, finding the long strip of paper fairly humorous. He then pulls the sharpie that is clipped where the buttons meet on his black double breasted chef’s coat and begins to mark the receipt with the order number and then with “X’s”, “R’s” and other markings to help visually organize what he needs to do.
Despite being an executive sous chef at a widely renowned restaurant, he still enjoys the homey, simplistic feel of a warm plate of chicken adobo or a large bowl of porridge. The idea that your day can change just by simply taking a bite into something is a concept Edgar holds on to, and is something that you can taste in his dishes; the passion he has for food. This, he tells me, is without doubt, something that he has learned from this grandmother.
Being a young cook at a young age helped sprout the chef that sat before me. He had cooked before he went to culinary school in Scottsdale, Arizona; it was a great reminder of what he didn’t know. He was a bit hot headed before he went to culinary school but he was really humbled and amazed by the fact that when he put his mind to doing something, he could actually do it. From pulling sugar, to building fragile chocolate boxes, culinary school was a way of attaining and learning the skill to achieve his goal. Culinary school had a huge impact on his life, and he believes that it can have a great impact on the lives of others who wish to become a chef. It was here that he learned how to appreciate the preciseness and cleanliness of the overall presentation of the dish before it leaves the kitchen.
Edgar takes his House Smoked 16 oz. Bone in Ribeye steak hot off the grill with his shiny silver tongs, and pulls a pre-prepped warm dish from the salamander with a dish towel and plates his ribeye. He swings over to the sauce station to finish off the dish. He pours the Peppercorn Brandy Pan Sauce, which is a reduction of a beef stock with a splash of brandy, over the dish. He takes the same dish towel that he always keeps in hand and wipes off the dish. He turns over, looks at me, smirks and says, “I’m a professional dish wiper”, I respond to him by telling him that he did a very good job, he then replies “Thanks! I work out”. He tells me that the clean finish and the flawlessness of the plating is called finesse; it’s what you want before you send anything out to the front of the house. You never want to send anything out that you’re not confident in!
Edgar spends a lot of time thinking about the restaurant. How to make a profit, what the day’s going to be like, what to order, how much of each ingredient to restock, how much time he has to get the ingredients in. Time has been the largest obstacle that Edgar has had to face as a chef. You don’t want to waste any time when you’re at the restaurant. Sometimes, there’s not enough time to complete everything, which definitely causes the stress level to sky rocket. Not to mention, time is definitely the enemy when it comes to trying to maintain a private life. It’s difficult to have a significant other when the hours of a chef fluctuate so much, especially because it’s hard to take time off because the restaurant relies on you to be there. There are days when he works eight hour shifts but there are also days when he works 15 hour shifts it all depends.
The most stressful moments are when Roy comes to visit the restaurant because everything has to be perfect. Large shipments of food come in, and when one thing is missing, a domino effect happens; something else is missing, and then something else is missing. When Roy gets to the restaurant, he wants to taste everything. If Roy doesn’t like something, he will change it, and it will be changed. He’ll find the flaws in the little things and fine tune it. There was once an event in Anaheim where there was a guy making a monte au burrere in a shellfish stock and the next thing you know, there were eight guys with whisks, whisking fifty pounds of butter in a large vat. As a chef, you’re constantly thinking, “What did Roy change? What does he want? How can I better the restaurant?”
“My favorite part of being a chef is that I like to eat.” Edgar makes Vegas runs and he’ll go and eat out there or he’ll go out to find a “hole in the wall restaurant”, anywhere he can find something really good and something enjoyable to eat. He takes the concepts or the restaurant he goes to as a learning tool. He goes into the restaurant, pin points the parts that are different and take it with him and try to recreate or acquire a technique that he think will benefit his career and the restaurant. There’s not one moment where he doesn’t think of the restaurant.
It was a good night. As all the stoves and ovens shut off, the chefs mingle and debrief. Joke around. They give each other a pat on the back, head out the kitchen, hang up their coats, walk out the door. Tomorrow is another day.
Omakase











Fried Seafood and Potatoes
Ok, so I admit that I'm guilty of enjoying that occational fish and chips (especially at Union Jack's in Costa Mesa, California). The British have stumbled on something very successful--large pieces of fried fish served with what resembles the American steak fry, wrapped in newspaper which by the time it gets to you from the fryer has soaked through with grease. The only thing it really needs is malt vinegar.
But really, sweet, succulent seafood (and I guess what I really mean when I say seafood is shellfish) battered and fried is quite possibly the most disappointing thing I've ever tasted. I swear off of fried oysters, fried lobster, and fried shrimp. Fresh seafood should really be enjoyed with the minimalist approach (salt, pepper, maybe an acid of somesort, maybe butter and that's about it--Japanese cuisine has really captured and embraced the idea of unaltered seafood). To manipulate the freshness of seafood by suiting it up in flour or a batter of somesort and then drowning it oil is like the creation of the chicken nugget--it just should not have ever happened.
And Oh the disappointments of being served mashed potatoes with a beautifully poached lobster. Some may think it works, and trust me when I say it is served at Michelin Star rated restaurants and called something fancy like "pureed potatoes" or "whipped potatoes", but the heavy startch form the potato (no matter how you make it or what you call it) really takes away from the very juicy, very plump piece of the beautifully cooked seafood.
And if you're wondering if I'm the kind of person that eats the rice separately from the sashimi when I order nigiri at a Japanese restaurants my answer is "Why yes, yes I do". The only real purpose that garganchuan, unauthentic lob of rice serves is a pedistool for the fish and as what I like to call a "soy sauce iron" (take the fish off the rice, dip the rice into soy, and spread the soy on the fish with the lob of rice--end result--a perfectly seasoned piece of fish).
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Roy's
I dressed fairly nicely the day I went in to interview my subject; nothing really out of the ordinary from my regular wardrobe--button up shirt, leggings, and a pair of tan moccasins.
I was introduced to Edgar, a young chef of Filipino descent who had been cooking a Roy's for some time. I had spoke to him over the phone a few days before my visit to set up the appointment. He seemed friendly--and that he was.
We sat down at one of the dining tables while I debriefed him on what the angle of my story would be--Edgar the chef, plain, uncut, and uncensored. He was cool with that, so we proceeded.
He offered me a plate of food, nothing off the menu, just what the chefs and the other employees ate before opening to the dinner crowd. As the staff joked and laughed they made me feel like part of their family--not so much the hard-core, badass stereotype you hear a lot. They were...well...fun.
Edgar suited me up with a chef's coat (I was extremely excited about this part!) He poked fun at my moccasins, noting that they were in NO way kitchen footware. I told him that I didn't mind if they got dirty. He continued to chuckle as he offered to put bags over my feet. I laughed, and told him that I would rather get them dirty, than wear bags.
Stepping into the kitchen was like stepping into a compeltely different world. Heavenly music played as I slowly and carefully walked my way around the greasy floors. Braised meats sat in large catering trays under the salamander, the mise en place was all ready to go, pans were hung neatly on the walls, an array of colors and smells of fresh produce and seafood purfumed through the kitchen. It wasn't by any means a large ktichen, but it was enough for this restaurant.
As the rush of hungry diners began to flow in, the chefs, including Edgar, manned their stations--with a smile of course and a handful of jokes.
The kitchen got HOT quick.
But none of the chefs ever got to busy to ask me how I was doing and to make sure I was getting some good information about them for the story. They gave me platefuls of risotto, fish, and other things that were on the menu to taste. IT WAS GREAT.
They seemed...really relaxed. I'm not saying, by any means, that they "had it easy", there was definitely a sense of urgency and a need for speed and accuracy, but something about how graceful they moved and how much they joked made the job seem effortless and enjoyable--despite the heat and the greased up floors.
The orders kept rolling in and they knew what to do--which sauces when where, which seasonings were for the salmon and which were for the ahi, each dish finished with "finesse" as Edgar put it.
The kitchen wasn't the place for me. I wouldn't be able to stand the "heat" of the kitchen in every sense of the word, no matter how fun and easy they made it seem.
(I'll attach the article I wrote soon!)