tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30923647989550376832012-01-10T14:30:23.436-08:00an amateur's observations on cooking and eating in and around Los Angelesjonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.comBlogger711100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-27059489201772551272011-10-11T16:45:00.000-07:002011-10-18T07:05:59.632-07:00

Time flies, doesn't it? There are big changes afoot this year and it seems as though nothing is written in stone. Fewer dinner parties and more nesting suits me fine. There are new found friends and, rather sadly, lost or fading friends. Sometimes there is hardship or suffering, but personally I am finding the now a pleasant time of adjustment and a veritable cleaning out of the cobwebs. Dead

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-80745242885560543012011-05-10T07:06:00.000-07:002011-05-11T10:44:12.126-07:00

The dish pictured to the right, Atlantic sea scallops sautéed with bacon and scallions in a cream sauce with grapes, was very successful and I was going to go on and on about the virtues of seafood but I thought a change might be in order and so I am putting my feet back on dry land with this post despite the taste of seaspray. I want to focus on the bacon I used in the dish, because I sured it

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-42251202172396581032011-04-28T07:47:00.000-07:002011-04-28T12:55:55.887-07:00

It's spring once more and I wish I had the drive to be neatly boxing things up for posterity and tying everything with silk ribbons. I am content to sweep in dark corners and take unused things to the relevant recycling facility. Seasonal changes acome with refreshing reminders and new discoveries. Remarkable how many changes for the good are afoot despite the generally gloomy economic air. One

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-54330053758503257312011-02-23T21:20:00.000-08:002011-02-24T09:48:25.021-08:00

I had friends over a Sunday evening or two ago. It was a split meal deal where I made stuff and they made stuff and we did indeed have a lovely time.  I hardly ever entertain, but this was fun and I will attend accordingly to my lack of it. I am a fan of the Roux Brothers' cookbook,  The New Classic Cusine.  Important to the development of the Nouvelle Cuisine movement The Roux Brothers  (one of

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-29377069257399514192011-01-23T23:15:00.000-08:002011-01-23T23:15:58.483-08:00

My friend George writes a very beautiful blog and shames me with his dedication not just by regularly posting, but also because his careful research is impressive. I sometimes wish he would pop in some gastronomic tidbits, but, the gossip is in itself is nutritious and I always end up satisfied. I'm so ready to read Taras Grescoe's recent book Bottomfeeder. I was a huge fan of his book The

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-25341910670234072011-01-23T19:10:00.000-08:002011-02-20T09:11:07.945-08:00

If the moon were a piece of cheese it would be a finely holy havarti with a smile gently pressed into it. Tonight, unprepared food-wise, I quickly picked up a block of havarti, a chunk of buttery St. André, a loaf of "rustic"bread, grilled artichokes, olives, mortadella and coppa for an al fresco supper. As we grazed I was reminded of the French themed lunches which often featured my mother's

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-23368698707755275912011-01-15T19:47:00.000-08:002011-01-16T18:56:57.258-08:00

It has suddenly warmed up here in LA. Of course it's probably because Awards Season is upon us once again. Don't start thinking it's all part of the climate change thing, as we know full well here in Vanity City it's the heat from the rest of the world's gazing eyes toasting up the atmosphere in our little bubble. Living in greater Hollywood makes residents adept at avoiding traffic snarls that

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-91992032333629939112011-01-10T21:48:00.000-08:002011-01-10T21:50:48.124-08:00

I'm sipping a very inexpensive Soave and remembering The Veneto. I think it's remarkable that a wine priced this affordably can be fragrant, complex and dry without losing impact. Forgive me, feeling pretty suave for it, while I watch Reilly, Ace of Spies Disk 2 which is just as engaging as it was on first run, and I'm thinking of far off places. I'm also enjoying Michael Krondl's book, The Taste

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-28179583563531320132010-09-27T19:38:00.000-07:002010-11-23T21:46:03.138-08:00

We are tolerating record heat to the tune of 112ºf, after the mildest summer on record. It's a very dry heat reminiscent of my time in Tucson, Arizona. Challenge in this little kitchen is to not use the oven but do everything stovetop. Even better would be to use a barbecue but there isn't room to swing one on the back stoop. Tonight it's risotto, which keeps the flame on for quite a while but

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-5585440922219891372010-09-27T18:48:00.000-07:002010-11-23T21:47:08.065-08:00

I have a copper Ibrik that comes to a nice coral mirror finish after a bit of spit and polish (i.e. Brasso). After a month or so clouds seem to fall over its surface and the pink shine fades as if it had endured its own private rainstorm. If it had a voice or a soul it would be screaming forever "clean me, clean me or forget about me" until it was satisfied, as though it had a memory of brighter

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-16843218794237845712010-07-28T10:41:00.000-07:002010-09-15T22:00:05.359-07:00

My friend Peter Huck, journalist and windswept adventurer, recently moved away from Los Angeles with his other half, the lovely Barbara Drake, to beautiful New Zealand. They are living in a tiny apartment in Auckland with a very, very small kitchen. Since their excellent and mostly vegetarian dinner parties were such a feature of my social life here, and sadly missed, I asked Peter to think about

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-6503751748763754382010-07-27T22:07:00.000-07:002010-11-23T21:52:29.357-08:00

After a trip down to Angelino Heights this morning I scooted up through Echo Park to pick up the 2 freeway to Glendale for lunch at Fish King. Nestled in a green leaved, landlocked naeighborhood  on the edge of the foothills, it's hard to believe that some of the best fish in LA can be found here. I was first introduced to it verbally by a couple who would drive in from the west side to buy for

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-21411565133942698332010-06-02T21:03:00.000-07:002010-09-15T22:02:38.265-07:00

My friend Peter Huck, journalist and windswept adventurer, recently moved away from Los Angeles with his other half, the lovely Barbara Drake, to beautiful New Zealand. They are living in a tiny apartment in Auckland with a very, very small kitchen. Since their excellent and mostly vegetarian dinner parties were such a feature of my social life here, and sadly missed, I asked Peter to think about

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-16477867311596974162010-05-30T21:40:00.000-07:002010-07-26T19:05:38.924-07:00

I saw my brother early in the year on the East Coast and was fortunate enough to be there when a package arrived for him from the PX and it contained this object which he promptly unpacked and tested in front of me. He was so impressed that I was impressed that he sent me one and it arrived three weeks later here on my coast. I always like useful new technology that does what it is marketed to do

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-35354697343740563952010-05-26T15:28:00.000-07:002010-06-08T22:57:42.184-07:00

Due to troublesome times and a growing sense of panic within, I have accepted very few dinner invitations this year, and also given very few of my own. Last week Tony and Sherrie invited us to a wonderful evening at the house up in the hills of Highland Park which has views toward Elysian park and Downtown making a sparkling picture from the dinner table. They also have the terraced garden

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-81408569132418593722010-05-25T20:59:00.000-07:002010-06-08T22:58:56.930-07:00

The ingredients on the left became the pasta dish on the very right - shrimp, shallots, plenty of garlic and abundant flat leaf parsley sauteed in olive oil and pillowed on wholewheat fettucine, then sprinkled with grated parmesan. The bowl on the left of the picture to the right has a wedge of iceberg lettuce with home made blue cheese dressing atop it and a ton of ground pepper. The blue cheese

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-72859159290178722802010-05-14T20:31:00.000-07:002010-05-25T21:03:05.293-07:00

Maybe it's the rebel in me, but  I have recently taken to cooking a forbidden potato or two at dinnertime despite my general adherence to the South Beach Diet. Tonight they were twice-baked, where one bakes the potato, cuts it in half and scoops out the pulp which is then combined with cream, salt and white pepper and butter (which I omitted to assuage my guilt). Meanwhile the skins are baked to

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-15950083391665158702010-05-02T19:24:00.000-07:002010-09-15T22:05:38.670-07:00

My friend Peter Huck, journalist and windswept adventurer, recently moved away from Los Angeles with his other half, the lovely Barbara Drake, to beautiful New Zealand. I asked Peter to write a monthly letter from down under as a kind of mirror to my own efforts and experiences here. This is the fourth letter. Clay cracks. Note the red cap wellies standard issue on NZ farmsAutumn is here,

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-67821787110122570702010-04-18T16:00:00.000-07:002010-07-26T19:16:46.502-07:00

As if to underscore that this has so far been a strange and scary year, Los Angeles has been blessed with plenty of rain this spring. Spring time is when I usually begin reminiscing about that damp English climate I grew up with, with its sheets of fine silk-like rain and land-tinting gray clouds that would make even the most colorful environment look like a layered watercolor wash. I have not

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-30142301779605174292010-04-06T09:09:00.000-07:002010-04-17T18:40:00.639-07:00

My friend Peter Huck, journalist and windswept adventurer, recently moved away from Los Angeles with his other half, the lovely Barbara Drake, to beautiful New Zealand. I asked Peter to write a monthly letter from down under as a kind of mirror to my own efforts and experiences here. This is the third letter. The godwits are leaving. Driving up the coast road, past Miranda, at the bottom of the

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-69671032970425868342010-03-11T17:37:00.001-08:002010-03-30T17:44:41.551-07:00

Olives plucked directly from the tree are edible, but, unbelievably bitter. "Bitter" is really an understatement, for having tasted them that way, I can tell you that that they are pretty much spit-out bitter. Planted extensively in Southern California for their ornamental beauty and also for commercial purposes, the olive is, unless genetically engineered, a messy tree, spilling a blood-indigo

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-53758295414078387132010-03-02T14:28:00.000-08:002010-03-30T17:42:25.942-07:00

My friend Peter Huck, journalist and windswept adventurer, recently moved away from Los Angeles with his other half, the lovely Barbara Drake, to beautiful New Zealand. I asked Peter to write a monthly letter from down under as a kind of mirror to my own efforts and experiences here. This is the second letter. It’s been a dry month in Aotearoa, the Land of the Long White Cloud. Large cracks

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-59024383728931156802010-02-04T13:33:00.000-08:002010-04-14T09:18:55.030-07:00

I have been a bit down in the dumps lately. At such times work becomes an uphill struggle and friendships become strained as the stories become stale after the third telling. It is difficult to think anything is worth it, let alone cooking for oneself, especially as the appetite is suppressed and one ceases to eat for all the wrong reasons. I am still a bit worried how quickly one loses weight

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-62584015907442960642010-01-28T16:53:00.000-08:002010-03-30T17:41:41.001-07:00

My friend Peter Huck, journalist and windswept adventurer, recently moved away from Los Angeles with his other half, the lovely Barbara Drake, to beautiful New Zealand. They are living in a tiny apartment in Auckland with a very, very small kitchen. Since their excellent and mostly vegetarian dinner parties were such a feature of my social life here, and sadly missed, I asked Peter to think about

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-15778673838043056972010-01-16T17:06:00.001-08:002010-01-17T16:33:32.160-08:00

Two Thousand Nine was a banner year in my very personal and loving relationship with cookbooks. It started with the Poleyn and Ruhlman book on Charcuterie, a gift to me Christmas 2008 and I have cured around 5 Bresaolas with salts from Detroit since. Ratio the very good book by Michael Ruhlman followed sometime later in '09, and has been a useful addition to my food library, packaged by Scribner

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-38073768246688605562009-12-05T18:09:00.000-08:002009-12-06T15:35:32.624-08:00

I was thumbing through the newly condensed edition of Heston Blumenthal's Fat Duck Cookbook at my local bookstore and was naturally impressed by its sumptuous pictures, no doubt culled and re-dressed from his huge three volume original. What exquisite joy, what superb colors and combinations, what exotic reverie! Then I snapped out of it. Slick and luxurious, this book seemed to have more in

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-72892516256231100952009-09-13T21:59:00.000-07:002009-12-05T10:22:28.403-08:00

Bresaola is curing, now two weeks into drying.First course tonight - lettuce soup (see pic).Then pork, brined and roasted, with whole onions and Montmorency cherries and white raisins, steamed french beans to the side.

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-62467892844567041662009-08-17T10:16:00.001-07:002009-08-21T22:18:31.392-07:00

The Microplane, that ubiquitous favorite of TV chefs and professional cooks across America made it into my cooking drawer a couple of months ago. I usually resist those trends, fearful that their use is all about a cut of the profits for the chef and not the utility of the tool, but I finally gave in and bought one a couple of months ago on sale at the aforementioned Sur La Table. Now I confess

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-46369375045995568852009-08-13T16:21:00.000-07:002009-08-15T18:33:07.683-07:00

One pleasant, recent addition to regular life in my own locale is The Americana At Brand. Located in The City of Glendale, a handful of miles to the northeast of my neck of the woods but only ten minutes away by car. Glendale is a suburban town with a shine, and I like its quick glint. An island swallowed by the sprawl of LA, it is one of the few civic satellites that has successfully maintained

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-3986142834041314652009-07-28T20:01:00.000-07:002009-07-29T23:19:08.816-07:00

Nate'n Al is a Beverly Hills institution, on Beverly Drive, and still family owned since its foundation in 1945. It is the best Jewish deli in Southern California. Ragged around the edges and probably last decorated in the early 1970s it is packed and overflowing every lunch time and always has a smattering of celebrities and ancestors of celebrities who order their father's and grandfather's

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-69458384866116033422009-07-24T00:11:00.001-07:002009-07-27T23:17:01.973-07:00

A superb, jaw-dropping exhibition at LACMA which originated at The National Gallery in D.C. called Pompeii and the Roman Villa: Art and Culture around the Bay of Naples is to die for and prompted my purchase at a local bookstore of Mary Beard's superb book, related only in subject.My Ancient Greek feeble, and my Latin pathetic, I nevertheless call myself a keen antiquarian and much of my reading

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-88541195115985098232009-05-20T22:05:00.000-07:002009-05-20T22:14:46.779-07:00

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-45561939629250165572009-04-10T12:02:00.000-07:002009-04-11T15:41:37.631-07:00

Tua Fuk Yao in Thai, or yard long beans as I prefer to call them, since the Thai name said in my English, at least, sounds a bit shabby, are in the farmer's markets here at present. They are attractively long and slender and have long been a favorite of mine for their meaty dense texture. They turn a very deep viridian green color after a couple minutes' blanching in a sea-salt brine which brings

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-32013072288788628042009-03-15T15:37:00.000-07:002009-03-31T22:03:39.250-07:00

I was given my Bron Mandoline, a year after I moved into this little apartment. An online reviewer describes this glittering amalgam of steel blade encased in more steel as "the Cadillac of the kitchen". Invented by Jean Bron, in Switzerland, about 1950, it does have the strange, dated and outsized looks of another time. A Bron, sitting inanimate on the kitchen counter, just about shouts out

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-9279943973053661692009-03-11T12:10:00.000-07:002009-04-01T19:56:39.989-07:00

I had my fiftieth birthday in January. Treated to a bash at Woolgrower's Basque Restaurant in Bakersfield with all the usual courses and the owner in attendance, it was a gift from Mr. and Mrs. Diaz and their son Matt. The pickled tongue was as delicious as usual and the fried chicken, one of the main courses, was about as good as the dish can get. At the after party, Sue Diaz, in collusion with

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-80649775214914997472009-01-07T13:16:00.000-08:002009-02-20T21:08:26.249-08:00

After the usual Christmas victuals, the quiet, let's-hide-out home life kicks in without general family obligations. So it's a time for comfort food. A favorite cookbook over this season is Paula Wolfert's, The Cooking of Southwest France, a book that you need if you cook and expect cold weather. I made a Daube of Oxtail to Wolfert's recipe. I have to say that this is one of The sublime dishes.

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-39490739398547456722009-01-05T17:47:00.000-08:002009-01-13T22:19:46.017-08:00

In recent weeks I've cooked many a feast and partaken of a couple, too. Before I get all medieval like, I should say that two of those I cooked were no-brainers: A huge rib roast where timing, temperature and the look of the roast toward the end were the most important factors, and a pork loin with prunes, likewise a dish I cook with little mental effort as the creaminess of the wine soaked

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-67158498073692511012008-12-21T17:43:00.000-08:002009-01-05T18:35:58.999-08:00

As an American raised in Britain, Thanksgiving was something we were able to participate in but rarely in a social sense outside of family. For me now in Los Angeles, it is a marvelous thing to enjoy community and family in that month before Christmas and to reflect on the great joy of being an American, with all the pluses and minuses that we contemporary Americans carry each day. I was able

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-70842184378075865112008-10-16T18:11:00.000-07:002008-10-21T16:20:30.894-07:00

My barber of eight years, Rafael, told me at the last cut that my hair is almost purely white. No more passing it off as salt and pepper even though people say it looks blondish in the right light. My white hair was totally appropriate at my friend Jeff's impromptu 25th birthday celebration this week on account of the surroundings.A group of four, we spent an evening at Musso and Frank's before

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-45458795613843484632008-08-31T10:42:00.000-07:002008-10-16T17:57:30.592-07:00

Marissa Roth gave a small dinner party last night which started poolside with plump green olives and sliced salami, creamy pastry cheese twists and a very potable chilled Riesling. When called to table we found a huge platter laden with fresh buffalo mozzarella, baby arugula, avocado, capers and a mild vinaigrette. Food maven, LA Times columnist and author Russ Parsons, brought along two

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-15369209312876979152008-08-02T17:55:00.001-07:002008-08-06T20:49:39.257-07:00

The weather here in LA is truly clement. I left for Florida's Atlantic coast two weeks ago to celebrate my father's 80th birthday and feared that when I returned this unusually moderate weather would have disappeared. I realized when I first set foot on the beach there that the two minute walk from my parent's house across A1A made all the difference, even though as usual you could cut the air

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-76348289947071693742008-07-06T12:38:00.001-07:002008-07-19T14:25:39.561-07:00

Here is a cozy shot of my Chardonnay vine up in Bakersfield from the 4th of July which is full with fruit. The 4th was a lovely family day and a short but welcome rest from the wild schedule of the past few weeks. I also have a sauvignon blanc vine which is equally full with fruit. I am grateful to Lou Diaz for his attentive watering while I am in LA and for the Diazes hosting of the ever

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-61481979054185745512008-06-14T15:28:00.000-07:002008-06-15T12:37:09.730-07:00

This weekend, has become a concentrated social melée. I don't know whether it's age or apathy but I like to limit my social engagements severely these days. It's no reflection on the kind friends who invite me to wine and dine but more a desire to stay close to the nest, and I prefer to entertain than be entertained.Last night the home made festivities began with a dinner for Chris and Linda

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-84088283030561349162008-04-18T21:15:00.000-07:002008-06-15T11:42:41.059-07:00

About now the fava bean season ends. There is a restaurant on La Brea Avenue that serves up a fava bean salad with smoked turkey which turned me on to the raw green delight. The fava bean, like all legumes, is  many layered and after husk and hood are removed they reveal their waxy green centers which slide into two pieces when run between the forefingers. The fava (known as the broad bean in The

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-69609720548045502552008-04-17T13:15:00.000-07:002008-04-17T13:39:44.752-07:00

Dear Beanie, my neighbor Shauna's cat and a subject of my last post, passed away in the night. She was my companion when Shauna was out of town and often when she was in town. Beanie was eighteen years old. I loved her and I miss her terribly. Every time I eat chicken I will think of her almost manic obsession with the fowl. She had a good long life and touched everyone's hearts with her strong

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-34731746109667101132008-03-07T17:31:00.001-08:002008-06-15T11:43:35.743-07:00

Yes, It's catch up time in order to do penance for not posting.To my nose skunk spray reminds me of coffee. I love coffee's aroma, but skunk musk is to be avoided mainly due to its adhesiveness. If one gets sprayed, and they only spray if you really threaten them, you are surely in trouble. It's a common smell across the Americas, usually at night when they are out and about. We have a family of

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-77811641382173934292007-11-25T10:07:00.000-08:002007-12-04T16:01:32.889-08:00

There are times when one steps back and realizes that contemporaneous conjunctions from disparate sources make for a golden time in one's life. At this moment I am stripping out an ornate and beautiful French style Fantasy Lighting chandelier for their website and listening to the current, gorgeous, melancholy, Radiohead album. John Richardson's long awaited vivid third episode of his Picasso

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-65059539510595730112007-11-04T08:32:00.000-08:002007-11-12T18:26:15.280-08:00

Despite some really tough pain, I am in Monterey, California. All I have to do is sit still and go slow, and, although walks on the gorgeous, uneven, kelp and jelly littered, spongy, sand beach, are out of the question, sitting upright and chauffeured in a fancy car's orthopedic seat is the perfect corset (albeit straight jacket). The ever changing, majestic California scenery entertains with its

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-69080591591915652202007-10-26T16:35:00.000-07:002007-11-07T18:30:33.013-08:00

Laid up in bed for a second day, having taking a tumble and cracking a rib or two. Stay still and do nothing is the way to a quick heal with a full dose of ibuprofen every eight hours and plenty of sleep too. Last week I cooked pork ribs for the first time in over a year. I don't mean to suggest that that was in any way an auger of Sunday night's mishap but I suppose if life is at all themed

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-21602773354518498922007-09-23T17:37:00.000-07:002007-11-06T13:06:43.909-08:00

I am always captivated by Love is the Devil, a most excellent film about the painter Francis Bacon. which I watched on DVD three times in the background while I was doing other stuff today. It has food content in that there are oyster slurping scenes set in a seafood restaurant: Bacon was a nightly regular at the now closed Wheeler's of St. James, traditionally a rich man's haunt. In print, I

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-69085827599690018772007-09-03T14:44:00.000-07:002007-09-26T13:35:45.497-07:00

Yes, it is another national holiday and my desktop is packed full of open Adobe CS3 applications as usual. So I labor through Labor Day. I am thankful for the work and the fact that the power has kept up today. The air conditioner is cranking as we suffer yet another freak heatwave with temperatures of 100°f and climbing. In my own block we have had two four-hour power outages in a two day period

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-23786527779558866442007-08-09T21:38:00.000-07:002009-11-05T15:05:50.617-08:00

The last three weeks have been a whirlwind of intense problematic work and concomitant outsourcing difficulties. Family troubles and tragedies, and friends' equally saddening woes, have added to the general malaise and confusion that accompanies these things. It's not strange for me in such times of stress to sleep wild dreams that vividly imprint, and also occasionally to sleepwalk, which

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-84007661058240276952007-07-23T17:11:00.000-07:002007-08-10T12:56:57.266-07:00

I've never read the Harry Potter books though my friend Jeff has already cast Daniel Radcliffe as me in the forthcoming, sure to be ridiculous, movie of my life. Newcomer producer Jeff swears we met at Santa Monica College in Home Ec 101, but I beg to differ: I met him panhandling outside some fancy shop on La Brea Boulevard. Back when I worked in movie advertising the company worked on the

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-39814970224219764122007-07-20T15:03:00.000-07:002007-07-22T10:04:26.011-07:00

I call Peter Huck "The Windswept One", on account of his man-of -action good looks and fiery coif. Peter is a man of action though, a journalist, international traveler, bon vivant and superb raconteur, and we gave him dinner last night. Matt made one of his own amazing risottos, devoting a half hour after chop-prep, to the labor intensive ebb and flow of successive reductions which results in

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-13391222013991197382007-07-15T10:35:00.001-07:002007-07-16T17:59:57.790-07:00

Yesterday, this intrepid gas stove (left), which has resided in the apartment for many more years than I have, was replaced. Suffering a wacky thermostat that has been kaput for some time, broken hot plates, and a dangerously sprung eat-you door, I regretfully asked my landlady for a new one (on the right). Every stove has its idiosyncrasies and I surely knew this one's. Built like a tank, it

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-36537172634500952532007-07-14T13:56:00.000-07:002007-07-20T22:42:36.071-07:00

This is foremost a commentary on food-ish experiences in and around the region that surrounds my little kitchen and it's not really a recipe write. I also think its a no brainer that South Africa popped up prominently in the last post, as I am continually reminded that our local landscape echoes that of The Cape and its hinterland. Many of the flora we take for granted originated down there: the

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-2632204813067683132007-07-09T11:44:00.000-07:002007-07-20T22:14:24.655-07:00

I would like to thank both Winfernal and Wolfgang for their comments in the recent Figs post. Winfernal, apparently a meat eater, shares his excellent vegetarian recipe for spaghetti carbonara with us, and a skepticism about the unhealthiness of raw eggs, amongst other things, and is well worth the read. Wolfgang poses some challenging questions. These independent comments address related topics

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-74630294949908631632007-06-24T14:56:00.000-07:002007-07-16T15:25:05.808-07:00

Food themed films are readily available to those who seek them. It's a great pity that Who is Killing The Great Chefs of Europe is currently unavailable on DVD, for I would snap it up. Sadly a used VHS is 40 bucks or so. Its title is a perfect explanation of the plot and stars that great gourmand Robert Morley and an array of international superstars of the time. It's a fab, late seventies, romp

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-65734543164120520582007-06-21T20:43:00.000-07:002007-06-24T14:35:09.612-07:00

My pal Jeff will not eat anything that has, or has had, a face. After a couple of years of threatening him with dinner I finally made good on it, and it's probably the first time that I have entertained with a completely vegetarian meal. Last night, I raided Deborah Madison's book and made baked ziti with mushrooms, leeks and sharp cheddar cheese. I think it turned out just fine. Jeff brought

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-78825457441120202972007-06-19T13:11:00.000-07:002007-06-23T08:59:40.759-07:00

My friend, the eminent artist Derek Boshier, is celebrating his 70th birthday today. I have a lot of affection for Derek, and he stopped by this morning, freshly shorn, his crystal clear blue eyes twinkling away. He dropped off this little drawing which you can click on to see larger. He will enjoy this momentous occasion in the company of his children.Happy Birthday, Derek. May you have many

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-58996443173765585212007-06-18T12:19:00.001-07:002007-06-19T00:03:43.818-07:00

It is difficult to survive in the LA Basin without a car. In this vast city a half hour drive to a meeting is a short one by local standards. When I can I take the Metro, especially for a recreational jaunt. Clean and fairly quick, and reminding me for some reason of Berlin's underground system, the Metro is to be encouraged and so patronized as much as possible as an antidote to the automobile.

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-71323053231237939402007-06-06T18:24:00.000-07:002007-06-24T14:50:30.003-07:00

Please excuse the posting gap - blogspot.com has had problems here in LA and I have been unable to post.My maternal grandmother, who recently passed on into the afterlife, was born in rural Kentucky, one of the most beautiful states within our national borders. Her husband-to-be courted her on the aptly named Love Ridge, where they watched cows swoon in the moonlight, drunk on sour mash dregs

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-80925095221741412552007-06-05T14:30:00.001-07:002007-06-17T10:24:03.052-07:00

Breakfast is coffee and a shower. There are exceptions to the coffee component : a high carbohydrate dinner of, say, pasta or pizza, can cause hunger pangs the morning after, and so a supplement of two eggs, scrambled, or made into an omelette with fines herbes, is called for. Occassionally on Sundays, a croissant, with unsalted butter and English Marmalade, is a treat. When desperate, I make a

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-30717743502231729592007-06-04T11:40:00.000-07:002007-06-09T23:21:12.478-07:00

Two lovely consecutive weekends have just passed here in LA . And two pleasant afternoons beside mesmerizing swimming pools. Michael Golob is a true artist and a man I admire. I worked with him during my time in movie advertising and he hosted a backyard barbecue, Memorial Day Weekend, at his family home in a quiet tree shaded corner of Burbank. We feasted on teriyaki chicken and chicken sausage,

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-11563025374644776142007-05-31T21:32:00.000-07:002007-06-02T18:26:11.395-07:00

Always out for the economical advantage, I buy my meat at Costco, an old fashioned, but very up to date, food and dry goods warehouse that seems to be run along military lines and has huge outlets all over the US. You can purchase all things from a refrigerator to a double pack of giant 409 cleaner here, and every item is fairly reliable quality wise.I also get to see what it is like to be one

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-61226798174639045712007-05-25T18:01:00.000-07:002007-06-02T12:18:43.861-07:00

A particularly gruelling day, albeit week. If I feel I've been treated poorly, especially by marginally talented, dramatic people (enough with their post 8Os me me me backwash, please), it ignites my worst antisocial mitherings. But, on a budget conscious night such as this, a glass of plain red cab Charles Shaw (two buck chuck), is enough to restore some natural color to the world, and also

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-29193626626724254282007-05-22T14:21:00.000-07:002007-06-02T12:07:50.833-07:00

My dear, beautiful, friend and neighbor, Shauna, has a demanding career "stoking the star, making machinery behind the popular song" (and yes, once upon a time, she worked for the subject of that excellent song). Shuttling between LA, New York and Nashville, she still finds time to enjoy a glass of fine wine and to plant tomatoes, peppers and beans. Walked by her apartment-front garden just now

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-33255484275465394452007-05-21T09:30:00.000-07:002007-05-23T21:56:48.223-07:00

I mostly feel unsatisfied if there isn't a quantity of animal or fish protein in a dish. An egg will do or even a tasty, oily, tinned sardine from Portugal. Not so last night, all that is out the window. Barbara Drake and Peter Huck are on the purely vegetarian straight and narrow. So last night's dinner at their elegant Paramount Studios-adjacent digs was an unusual event for me. Dinner was

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-81978437078732147032007-05-20T16:56:00.000-07:002007-05-24T09:47:37.988-07:00

Cooking is an activity outside the bounds of pleasure for me. I cook daily whether my disposition is sunny or sad. Simple or grand, each meal is a personal accomplishment. And I do it in a small kitchen on a vintage gas stove, with basic amenities such as running water and electricity and a view of downtown that is in the summer obscured by an opportunistic tree. Will someone rid me of that

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-43758534152453017812007-05-19T15:34:00.000-07:002007-05-23T18:11:17.544-07:00

We started with wafers of Membrillo and Comté, olives on the side, sparkling prosecco to drink.The main course. Pork is my favorite meat and so I made Pork "Sandwiches" of tenderloin and pastry with fresh Sauce Perigord all garnished with sliced truffle. A simple organic salad accompanied with an emulsified lemon dressing. Washed down with a relatively local Pinot Noir.Dessert was Creme Brulée,

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3092364798955037683.post-19758267487249334392007-05-19T14:38:00.000-07:002007-06-19T21:49:25.374-07:00

My friend Marissa gave me this black perigord truffle for my birthday in January. She and The Waymouth kindly fêted me with a luncheon at Café Figaro and despite the picquant aroma of the moules marinière plated before me, a heavenly, fungal scent permeated the bag containing the crusty nugget. I was afraid to cook it, jewel that it was, but, I used the first half to make a dinner with pork

jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948246905975551365noreply@blogger.com4