Back To The Present Future

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 the the most apt surnoms a French chef could be born with) were amongst its early champions, if not inventors. I lost my original copy of the cookbook to misfortune but I still remember the recipe for an artichoke heart with poached egg, smoked salmon and hollandaise sauce. I found a recipe of a similar kind by son, Albert Roux, who runs Le Gavroche, their London establishment, and decided to adapt it.  Mine ended up looking like a sloppy hamburger as you can see from Tony's picture, but after a couple of bottles of Prosecco and such, and many visitors along the course of that afternoon, what would you expect?  I did trim and poach the artichoke, whipped up a sauce rosemarie and added chopped dill and gravadlax which formed a bed for the soft poached egg. On top of that you can see the home cured salmon topped with a little mustardy mayonnaise I had left from the rosemarie sauce and then there is that ornamental sprig of dill. It fell apart on the plate, and in my mouth, and for that I am thankful. More about that dinner soon.

On The Table at The Americana

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 its identity and dignity in recent years, at least to this outsider's eye. The Americana was developed by the same group that gave us The Grove on Third Street, that groovy Farmer's Market extension. The Grove is Beverly Hills adjacent, and a place where many celebrities go when they want a small town mall experience with the glitz they are used to, albeit Disneystyle, but don't want the clinical chic of The Beverly Center. At The Americana they seem to have successfully combined the glitz and gleam with its natural, ready made, suburban location.

The Americana echoes the theme of street and park in Main Street USA, so successfully established by the Disney city states, but with addition of residential accommodation above the shops. Pompeii, but upward (see earlier post). A visit from family who were in town yesterday necessitated a visit and there is a particular corner where Sur La Table, a kitchen hardware chain, and, our own superb, The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, Southern California's answer to Starbuck's, face each other on opposite corners of the southernmost Brand Avenue façade.

We stopped in at Sur La Table for a long and leisurely visit and when we were about to leave, cradling our purchases, one of the most helpful and courteous shop managers called me over politely to test my knowledge. I had examined the store maybe three times in the hour that we were there and earmarked various items for future purchase, funds permitting. As I approached him I could see he had one arm raised with hand resting on a huge brass conundrum that I had already figured for an object of importance. It was, without question, expensively made and shone like the sun. Its grandeur announced the gravity of whatever it was that it was built to process.

The Object was probably four feet tall and cast in solid gleaming brass. It had a central screw-press mechanism with a tiny, graceful drain at the bottom of a small three feet round chamber that would hold the item to be pressed. The giveaway for me was that the supporting legs actually fanned out into webbed feet. Duck? Goose? No matter what the feet as long as they be webbed. Too magnificent to press the ordinary flesh of a fowl, I thought, and the answer came quickly. It was a Foie Gras Press! What luxury! And our man confirmed it when I told him I had already thought about it. Correct, he said, without an ounce of disappointment, and added that he had taken me for a food fan. No matter that I had Sonoma Foie Gras on my mind with possible intent to order a lobe or two, against all political correctness. I was delighted and a bit flattered and confirmed that cooking is a great love. I know why I keep coming back to this particular location. The Americana is a good place to visit, better service than any other Sur La Table in Greater Los Angeles and the way it should always be in any store. Plus, you get to ride the trolley round and round for free (see pic above).

A Pound of Flesh

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 my mother who was unable to attend, had baked a birthday cake of the kind I loved as a child and duplicated its flavor almost exactly, which we enjoyed a la mode. Many photographs were taken that day and many of them included me. I'm not one to fret about my looks or the odd ten pound excess from time to time, but I could tell that I was beyond a little overweight. There it was, the visual evidence, and I suspected that the intermittently high blood pressure and general malaise I had been experiencing for a while needed attending to.

Sue Diaz is recently recovered from cancer, and while on chemotherapy, she and her husband dieted to please the doctor using Agatston's popular South Beach Diet. She often had the cookbooks open in the kitchen to a recipe she was making. Browsing through the book the food sounded normal and delicious and I thought that would be the diet to try if I felt the need. About three weeks ago I picked up the book and read it. Concisely written by a cardiologist, I liked the whole premise, that weight loss was a by-product of eating healthily. I also realized that since I could cook it might be possible to make interesting dishes and hone cooking skills. The diet works in three phases the first giving the fastest loss and therefore the most ascetic, the second slowing the speed in Phase One, and the third is maintenance of the target weight. Each phase comes with a list of yes foods and no foods and basically each adds some of those that were absent in the previous phase. Phase One lasts two weeks and disallows all starches, sugars and alcohol and severely limits fruit intake and some high sugar vegetables. In the first two weeks I lost 12 pounds and am now into a third week to get less of a love handle on things before adding a little starch, whole grains, fruit and red wine. I have had no cravings and feel so much better and have recorded a loss of some 15 pounds. My blood pressure is back to normal and my head is clear, no more heartburn or digestive problems, and I suspect my blood sugar average is much better.

Interestingly enough I have not made a single recipe from The SBD cookbooks, and I will explain why in the upcoming posts but I have stuck rigidly to the allowed foods list and really trying out many of the leafy green vegetables I have neglected over the years such as chard and kale. One of my favorite lunches has been blanched brussels sprouts in a little olive oil and garlic with low sodium, sliced, herbed turkey with it. I am a huge fan of this compact little green ball and it's been a joy to get to know their subtle and complex flavors better.

Feasting Aplenty

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 reconstituted prunes braised with the meat and its rich juices provide so much of the action to those who taste it for the first time. These two dishes were made for Christmas Day and were accompanied by Erin's delicious Roast Turkey up in Old Bakersfield.

I was given a great book for Christmas, Charcuterie by Michael Ruhlman who co-authors all of Thomas Keller's (French Laundry, Bouchon, Per Se) cookbooks. It will become a favorite of mine because it is complete and thorough and highly lucid, with recipes both simple and complex and every section yields a goldmine of tricks. It includes a good source guide for those hard to find curing salts and more exotic ingredients. Charcuterie is the preservation of meats and offal, mainly from pork and fowl, which the French particularly have elevated to high art. Way beyond sausage and salami, bacon or rilettes, there are a myriad of very elaborate and complex delicacies that simultaneously appear to hide and reveal the character of the host meats. Like all art, charcuterie aims to distil the essence of its subject's parts into something new and then reminding us continually of the original. The Romans probably invented charcuterie, pork being their most prized meat and its production and sale was governed under law. This book travels the world with such favorites as lemon confit from North Africa, and duck prosciutto from who knows where? At the same time, rather punningly, I received the new huge Bacon book (Francis, that is) , which I had been jonesing for, and which contains plenty of flesh including a hog or two. It accompanied the Palazzo Reale retrospective recently which will hit New York's Metropolitan Museum pretty soon on its way from London. Anyone want to fly me out? 

One last bookish comment: I also received Molecular Gastronomy, by Hervé This which approaches cooking from a mainly scientific viewpoint and contains fascinating illuminations on the whys and wherefores of how a dish works. I am also amazed at the economy with which Monsieur This writes, since every essay seems to be the same short length, like so many molecules making up a burst of flavor.

Blessed

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 to enjoy an earnest and warm celebration this past Thanksgiving with my adopted family in Bakersfield.

Christmas is here now. For me and many others Christmas is a religious celebration of the birth of Christ. This is what causes me to celebrate and share my own joy and happiness at this time, mindful of the fact that many of my friends are celebrating different religious holidays around this time. So many of their beliefs are different to mine and some friends have no religious beliefs at all. In a spirit of tolerance and respect for those of other credes, I must also be frank about why I am celebrating and why I like to share that internal joy. This is not a secular holiday for me.

I was interested to read in Nathaniel Philbrick's book on The Mayflower that the common or garden Turkey had been introduced, bred and circulated throughout Europe since the 1500s by the Spanish and that The Mayflower's passengers were more than familiar with it as a feasting dish in England when they got sort of settled and had the first Thanksgiving at Plymouth in 1621. Apparently the tastiest birds on that occasion were Mallards and other ducks. What surprised the Pilgrims most was the large size of wild Turkeys (which were present at the feast and provided by the indigenous Pokanokets) as they had already been bred smaller and neater since their appearance in Europe. These settlers introduced stews and hotpots to the Pokanokets who greatly savored them, with all manner of meats and fish therein. Please, who wouldn't enjoy a rich, slow cooked Daube of local meats?

Whatever your belief or non belief I wish you all Love, Peace and Prosperity this Christmas, and also for the new year of 2009. I share and celebrate my "holiday" love only for the already mentioned reasons. Come sup with me sometime to celebrate our friendship. Until then, I bless you and your family.