Confit de Canard

I had such a wonderful weekend with food and friends and fat.

Check it:

• Spontaneous Armenian barbeque -- brought to our door.
  
• Quail, beef tenderloin, sausage and lavash.
  
• Morel mushrooms picked from the campus of East Los Angeles City College. (So delicious and we did not die!)
  
• Lamb testicles. (So much worse than you might imagine!)

And that was just our unexpected Friday night.

Saturday afternoon however was planned. My friend Joseph had written me to ask if I might like to join him in making duck confit. Without hesitation, I said yes. There were many emails back and forth.

What kind of jars?
––2 liter glass jars with gasket seal.

Sterilization, yes or no?
––Yes.

Fresh or frozen duck?
––Air-chilled.

Just how much duck fat would we need?
––A whole lot. Four and a half pounds for two recipes.

After the flurry of communication, we were ready to get started.

We used the recipe out of Stéphane Reynaud's Ripailles, which I believe is the same book as Stéphane Reynaud's French Feasts, just published a year earlier.

The recipe is very concise, and I get the impression that the cookbook as a whole is geared toward cooks, who have a fair amount of experience and can read between the lines and embellish as they see fit.

Since I had not made duck confit in at least ten years and Joseph had never, we were both grateful for the funny little diagram on the opposite page. We seasoned the flesh side of the duck breasts and legs with salt and pepper on Friday night, before the Armenian feast.

On Saturday afternoon, we rinsed the seasoning off, patted the duck dry, and got straight to melting duck fat.

The recipe is simple.

When the fat is melted, you add bay laurel and thyme, and the duck legs and breasts. Once the duck is immersed in the fat, it must simmer very gently for two hours.

This gives you the perfect opportunity to prepare an afternoon repast for friends. You just need to pilfer a little bit of the fat to use to roast some potatoes with green garlic. Toss some sausage in the same oven, and throw together a salad of adolescent lettuces from the C.S.A., sliced apple, a grating of parmesan, and a lemon and green garlic vinaigrette. Crack open a bottle of Picpoul de Pinet wine, and you are all set.

Even little Fe loved the potatoes.

When the two hours are up, you put the duck into very clean jars, and pour the fat in to cover. You then seal the jars with the rubber gasket.

Our plan is to tuck the duck into the back of the refrigerator, forgetting all about it for some six months until the weather cools again and the air is crisp enough to cry out for Cassoulet.

I know. Some of you are having a hard time imagining that happening in Los Angeles. But it is possible. I swear!

Because of the long storage time, sterilization is required. That simply involves placing the lovely jars of duck confit into a giant vat of boiling water for another hour.

Now we wait.

I won't be able to report back, as to the success of this recipe for a while. Look for a full report some time in October or November.

Confit de Canard (Duck Confit)

2 drumsticks from a fat duck

2 duck breasts

2 pounds 4 ounces duck fat

2 large sprigs thyme

2 bay leaves

sea salt

coarsely ground black pepper

1. The day before cooking, generously salt and pepper the flesh side of the duck. Chill for twenty-four hours.

2. Rinse the duck and wipe dry. Melt the duck fat in a pot large enough to hold the duck and add the bay leaves and thyme. Immerse the duck in the fat and cook over a very low flame for two hours, with the fat just barely simmering. The flesh should flake off the bone.

3. Store the duck confit covered with duck fat.

4. If you plan to keep the duck confit for an extended period of time, sterilize by boiling the jar of duck confit in large vat of water.

Santouka Ramen

This is not news for most ramen lovers and probably not for most Angeleno foodies, but I'd be remiss if I did not post about just how delicious the ramen at Santouka in the Mitsuwa marketplace is. I've been enjoying the ramen at Santouka for a couple of years now. It is extraordinary.

I was there just last week with my sister. We had the same conversation we always have: Who will have the salt (shio) and who will have the miso, and what about the spicy miso? In the end I chose the salt broth. I think it has the purest flavor.

The best set-up is to share a salt and a miso, so that you can feel pleased with yourself that you ordered the salt, but rather glad to have the opportunity to taste the other.

I am constantly impressed by the noodles. They are cooked perfectly, with just the right amount of bite to them. No mushiness here. The pork is fatty, the way you want it to be. The crunch of the bamboo is so satisfying, that I can almost understand why my sister always orders extra.

This ramen is in the same vein as Daikokuya's ramen, but rises well above the Little Tokyo institution's best offering. The hard boiled eggs that are marinated for twenty-four hours at Daikokuya however, have those at Santouka beat by a long shot. To me, those at Santouka are forgettable.

Hooray that my sister doesn't like the fish cake! An extra for me!

The lusciousness that is a bowl of Santouka ramen makes driving clear across Los Angeles at the height of traffic seem utterly reasonable.

Santouka Ramen

3760 S. Centinela Avenue

Los Angeles, CA 90066

Douglas Fir Tip Tea

When I went to check out the Waldorf School in Pasadena, I did not expect that the most immediately useful piece of information that I would walk away with would be an introduction to an herbal tea.

I drink a cup of herbal tea every morning, before I start in on the coffee and breakfast. It's nice to have a hot cup of tea to sip, while I watch Fe cloak his face (and often his hair) in yogurt.

I love mint. And lately, I've been fortunate enough to receive fresh Chamomile in with the C.S.A. haul. It makes a lovely herbaceous cup. I have a whole shelf in the pantry jammed with herbal tea boxes, yet I'm always looking for something a little more satisfying or a little bit different.

When I bumped into Juniper Ridge's Douglas Fir Tip Tea at the Waldorf School, I was intrigued. I had a cup. I had never tasted any tea like it before. It tastes exactly like a winter forest with a hint of lemon. The tea is crisp and clean. It haunted me for a few days, so I began a search for it.

I ended up asking Whole Foods in Glendale to special order it for me. When I went to pick it up, I noticed a new display filled with Juniper Ridge products. You may be able to find it there or you can visit the Juniper Ridge site and order it direct. They call it "Wildcrafted Tea." I love that. The idea is that what comes directly from the wilderness is probably even more organic than what you find on organic farms.

The only ingredient in the tea is "100% sustainably wild-harvested Douglas Fir needle tips."

Thomas Keller's Santa Maria-Style Tri-Tip

I feel like a fool for forgetting to take photos (though one with a genius for alliteration!). It's just that it takes a while to get this meat on the table, and by the time it was ready I was starving.

You need to prep 24 hours ahead with a spice rub, and then you need to take the meat out of the refrigerator half an hour before cooking, sear it and roast it for up to an hour, and then let rest for thirty minutes. That is a long time to wait!

This is all to say that I made Thomas Keller's Santa Maria-Style Tri-Tip from his Ad Hoc At Home for the second time last night.

I'll insert a photograph of his autograph in my copy for your admiration.

I waited in line with Fe at Williams Sonoma in Santa Monica so that I could meet my hero for the second time. (The first time was at the French Laundry, just after dining there. Needless to say, that time was more thrilling.)

The line was long, and it was hot out, and Fe was a cranky little almost-one-year-old. Having Fe with me actually helped a lot. We got to buck the line entirely, because I had my babe strapped to my front like a Bouchon-bomber.

Keller was lovely to Fe and to me. I tried to get him to sign the book with, "Jacqueline, Let's have dinner soon." He didn't bite! Instead he wrote, "Jacqueline, It's all about family." Very sweet.

Ad Hoc At Home is definitely a more realistic book for home cooks than The French Laundry Cook Book or Bouchon, but let's not kid ourselves -- Thomas Keller will almost never give you recipes that are easy to make. He can't, because he is a perfectionist and a genius. His recipes will always take work.

The Santa Maria-Style Tri-Tip is actually not difficult at all, by Keller standards. The only thing you have to remember is to plan ahead. Pull the meat out of the fridge early, so that you aren't eating dinner at 10 p.m.!

Now, I don't have Piment d'Espelette in my pantry, although I have been meaning to order some on-line for ages. Cayenne is not the perfect substitute, but I think it probably works well enough in a pinch. I thought the results were terrific, but I have never had this dish prepared with the Piment d'Espelette -- so obviously, I can't compare.

I mentioned that I've made the dish twice. The first time I left the spice rub on for only about eight hours. This short cut falls short! The meat really does need to be cloaked in spices for the full twenty-four hours. It makes a big difference.

I love how one tablespoon of butter and five thin slices of Meyer lemon can make such an impact. I could taste the lemon and butter in every bite. The first time around with this recipe, I used regular lemon. Keller prefers the Meyer lemon, and I agree that it imparts a more complex flavor. I would not, however hesitate to make this again, if all I had was a regular old lemon hanging around. The difference is not that noticeable.

Last time I cooked the meat to 135 degrees for medium rare, per Keller's recipe. It was much closer to medium after resting for half an hour. I talked to my mom about this and she said that the meat should not cook past 125 degrees for medium rare. That is what I did this second time around and it was a perfect medium rare after resting for twenty minutes.

And speaking of resting... This is so important. The juice has the opportunity to spread throughout the roast and each bite is fantastically juicy.

I'm so sorry there is no photo of the Tri-Tip, but please enjoy this lovely picture of the man himself, with yours truly and little Fe.

Santa Maria-Style Tri-Tip

One 2 1/2 pound tri-tip roast, about 3 inches thick at its thickest point

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper (I understand that Keller always carries around his own pepper mill so that he can consistently have the perfect grind!)

1/2 teaspoon piment d'Espelette (I used Cayenne.)

1 teaspoon sweet paprika

Kosher salt

Canola oil

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 rosemary sprig

1 garlic clove, smashed, skin left on

5 very thin lemon slices, preferably Meyer lemon, seeds removed

One day ahead, combine the black pepper, Espelette, and paprika and rub all over the meat. Wrap the meat tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate.

Thirty minutes before cooking, remove the meat from the refrigerator.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F. Set a roasting rack in a roasting pan.

Pat the meat dry with paper towels and sprinkle on all sides with salt. Heat some oil in a large frying pan over high heat. When the oil shimmers, add the meat and sear, without moving it, for 1 to 1 1/2 minutes to brown the bottom. Turn the meat over, add the butter, rosemary, garlic, and lemon slices, and brown the second side of the meat, another two minutes or so. As it browns, spoon the butter mixture over the top of the meat from time to time. Transfer the meat to the rack and arrange the lemon, rosemary, and garlic on top.

Put the roasting pan in the oven and roast for 40 to 60 minutes, depending on the thickness of the roast, until the temperature in the center of the meat is 135 degrees (or 125 degrees if you are me). Let the meat rest on the rack in a warm spot (such as the back of the stove) for about 30 minutes for medium rare, allowing the juices to redistribute.

Cut the roast into thin slices, carving against the grain. Garnish with the lemon, rosemary and garlic.

Moroccan Chicken with Carrot Purée

What fun to receive the Los Angeles Issue of Saveur Magazine!

I love reading about my city. I love movies that take place in my city. It is always a treat to uncover more about the city I live in than I already know. The latest Saveur was no exception. Jonathan Gold's piece does a nice job of summarizing the importance of Los Angeles to the food world.

So far I've only prepared one recipe from that issue: Suzanne Goin's Moroccan Chicken with Carrot Purée.

Goin is just so amazing. Her Sunday Suppers at Lucques: Seasonal Recipes from Market to Table is an outstanding –– albeit very labor intensive –– cook book. She has an uncanny ability to make a complete and perfect meal using beautiful ingredients from local farmers.

I stumbled upon this recipe and knew that I could pull it off, and hopefully entice my poultry-phobic husband to partake. My C.S.A. share has provided me with a lot of Chiccoria, otherwise know as dandelion greens, and plenty of carrots, so my shopping would be limited (thank god!).

The sweet, mild carrot purée is a lovely foil for the sharper bite of the dandelion greens and sliced shallots, which join the salty kick of oil-cured olives in the little salad. The harissa that cloaks the chicken is also echoed in the dressing for the dandelion green salad.

I'm glad she asks for sherry vinegar in the vinaigrette. I love it, and always forget that I should be using the bottle hiding in my pantry.

I don't have a grill pan, so I used my trusty iron skillet to sear the chicken. No lovely black lines, but certainly just as tasty.

The real surprise for me here was the orange sauce, consisting of orange juice, butter, and orange segments. The buttery-sweetness of this sauce brings all of the forceful flavors of harissa, shallots, olives, and dandelion greens together.

Not only is this sauce delicious on this dish, but it clearly belongs in a dessert crèpe as well.

I was thrilled by how visually beautiful this dish is, and by how well all the parts came together. My husband ate the whole thing, but somehow he still cannot mentally get past the fact that he is eating poultry. I will keep at it!

Moroccan Chicken with Carrot Purée

6 boneless skin-on chicken breasts, pounded 3/4" thick (Place them in a ziplock bag for the pounding to reduce the mess!)

16 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

4 cups chicken broth

2 pounds carrots, cut into 1/2" rounds

1 large onion, minced

1 1/2 cups fresh orange juice

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 peeled oranges, segmented

3/4 cup plus 2 teaspoons harissa

2 teaspoons sherry vinegar

3 ounces dandelion greens

3/4 cup pitted oil-cured black olives, roughly chopped

2 shallots, thinly sliced

Put chicken into a dish; drizzle with 3 tablepspoons oil; season with salt and pepper. Set aside. Bring broth to a boil in a 6-quart pan. Add carrots; cook for 6-8 minutes. Purée in a food processor with 2 tablespoons oil. Season with salt and pepper; keep warm.

Heat orange juice in a 2 quart pan. Cook until reduced by half, 12-15 minutes. Whisk in butter; season with salt and pepper. Add orange segments; set sauce aside.

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Heat a grill pan over medium-high heat. Working in 3 batches, add chicken, skin side down; cook until crisp, 8-10 minutes. Transfer chicken, skin side up, to a baking sheet. Brush with 3/4 cup harissa. Bake until cooked, 6-8 minutes.

In a bowl, whisk together remaining oil and harissa with sherry vinegar. Add greens, olives, and shallots; toss. Divide carrot purée between 6 plates; top each with salad and a chicken breast. Spoon sauce over each.

Serves 6

Something for a Rainy Day

It's been pouring on and off since late last night. All grey and green outside my window -- I'm feeling cold on the inside, and warming up is what's called for.

The best bet is soup.

I want to tell you about a soup that I've been making since I was in college -- perhaps before? I mentioned The New York Times International Cook Book by Craig Claiborne in a previous post. I took photocopies of quite a few of the recipes from that cook book with me to college. They got me started in the kitchen.

The recipe for Tomato Soup in the France section is stellar. It's been on my short list of go-to recipes for almost twenty years. It is a creamy, buttery puree that works perfectly well with canned tomatoes, so there is no need to wait for late summer to whip up a batch.

This soup is rich. I tend to cut back on the butter and often substitute half-and-half for the heavy cream. But this soup also makes you look like a pro, and it really is just a cinch to make.

I think the giant croutons are a must. At first they crunch, but I like them even better when they are soggy with soup. The hint of garlic rubbed on the bread gives a little bite to the mellow warmth in the bowl. Claiborne says you can skip them, but I don't agree.

And by the way, good news! Fe is a fan!

Tomato Soup

3/4 cup butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, thinly sliced (about two cups)

2 sprigs fresh thyme or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

4 basil leaves, chopped, or 1/2 teaspoon dried basil

salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

2 1/2 pounds fresh, ripe tomatoes, cored, or 1 35-ounce can tomatoes

3 tablespoons tomato paste

1/4 cup all-purpose flour

3 3/4 cups chicken stock

1 teaspoon granulated sugar

1 cup heavy cream

croutons for garnish (see below)

Heat one-half cup of the butter in a large pot and add the olive oil. Add the onion, thyme, basil, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is wilted.

Add the tomatoes and tomato paste and stir. Simmer ten minutes.

Place the flour in a small mixing bowl and add about five tablespoons of stock, stirring to blend. Stir this into the tomato mixture. Add the remaining chicken stock and simmer thirty minutes, stirring frequently, to make certain that the soup does not stick or burn.

Put the soup through the finest sieve or food mill possible (I used a food processor, but you will get a more refined soup with the sieve or mill.) Add the remaining butter (I didn't do this either. Enough is enough!) swirling it through the soup. Top each portion with crouton, and serve.

Croutons

8 slices crusty, day-old French or Italian bread

1 large clove garlic, halved

8 teaspoons olive oil, approximately

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Rub the bread slices on both sides with the garlic, then brush generously with olive oil. Place the bread on a baking sheet and bake until golden, turning once if necessary.

Forage

Just a quick word. I tried Forage yesterday for lunch. They're in the old Town and Country spot on Sunset in Silver Lake. They've only been open for four weeks, already it seems like just what we need in the neighborhood.

You order at the counter, choosing from a flush inventory of meatball subs, cippolini onion crostini, pork belly, avocado or pastrami sandwiches, quiche of the day, roast jidori chicken, farro and lentil salad, roasted root vegetables, and an array of sweets. It is a little like a tiny Huckleberry.

I had the Awesome Avocado Sandwich, which arrives on crusty french bread with tomato, shaved cabbage, fennel pickles (not very pickle-y) and green garlic aioli. It also comes with soup or salad. I chose the soup. Cabbage and potato.

Loved the sandwich! Not too into the soup. It was a little too rich for my mood. I should have chosen the salad. Also picked up a couple of cinnamon buns for breakfast. So sticky and delicious!

Looking forward to my next meal at Forage. (Also seems like a great place for takeaway.)

Forage

3823 West Sunset Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90026

The Comme Ça Burger

I love hamburgers. More specifically –– cheeseburgers.

I can summon up a pretty ecumenical and open-minded feeling about all sorts of cheeseburgers.

I get cravings for the "animal style" cheeseburger at In-N-Out.

The cheeseburger (with grilled onions) at Pie and Burger is a thing of beauty.

Cassell's is pretty good.

I had the burger at the Bucket once, many years ago, and that was not bad.

When I was a kid, my family was nuts for Fatburger. I like how they pepper their meat.

I'll even sheepishly admit that I get a hankering for the Mini Sirloin Burgers ("riding tall, tall in the saddle...") at Jack in the Box.

And oh, yes! Don't forget Tommy's! I love that chili-cheese burger. Maybe, only once a year, but I wouldn't want to give it up.

Even the Counter is tasty, for a more chichi burger.

I'll order a cheeseburger almost anywhere. And I can, because Los Angeles loves hamburgers.

There are great debates about where you can find the best hamburger in Los Angeles. It's really similar to the Great Pizza Debates. Just check chowhound.com for the latest heated discussion.

To my mind, as of a couple of weeks ago, there really is no debate to have –– no argument at all. I had one of those transcendent food moments that I am always quietly hoping I am on the verge of having.

I was on my way to meet my friend David for lunch at Father's Office –– a very worthy burger joint, with a delicious, fancified burger with carmelized onions, bacon, arugula, gruyère, and blue cheese –– when David called to say that F.O. was not open for lunch. This is something that I used to know before I had a baby and promptly forgot everything. So a change of plans was in order.

"Let's go have the Comme Ça Burger," David suggested.

So we did. And oh my, was that a great idea.

Comme Ça is a likable enough restaurant, especially if you (cough) love the look of the Pottery Barn. I've never been completely blown away by the food or the dining experience as a whole.

This time was different. I ordered the Comme Ça Burger medium rare and a glass of Burgundy. I know this sounds cliché, but this burger was as close to perfection as I have ever experienced.

When it first arrived, I thought to myself, "Oh, no. This is one of those super tall burgers that I will never be able to fit in my mouth." I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. But I was wrong.

The beauty of this burger is that the bun is ultrasoft brioche that easily compresses in your hands and mouth.

The luscious, rosy-red meat was as yielding as the bun. The meat tastes as if it is ground with equal parts meat and butter.

We asked the kitchen, but they swear there is no butter mixed in with the meat. In fact they say there is absolutely nothing in the meat. They season the outside with salt and pepper and cook it. I just called them two seconds ago to confirm the fact that they do not cook the burger in butter.

This is shocking, because this is the richest, most buttery burger that I've eaten thusfar. They sear it and then throw it in the oven to finish cooking. It is so wonderfully beefy that David and I kept sniffing the meat just to inhale a little bit more of its beefiness.

The cheddar cheese seems to melt into the burger, and is not readily apprehensible as its own discrete entity. It adds fat and flavor, but not the typical layer of cheese feeling in your mouth or to your eye.

There's no ketchup. It isn't needed. Shredded iceberg lettuce and thinly sliced white onion are tossed in aioli and then tucked between the bun and the meat. It's impossible to think of a way to improve upon this combination.

Although the fries were exceptionally good, they aren't really necessary. The Burgundy was, and if it weren't for me trying very hard to live a more frugal life, I would have partaken of just one more glass.

This all sounds so basic. I'm not sure if I'm enough of a wordsmith to convey just how incredible this burger is. Does it help if I say that it blew my mind? Yeah, probably not.

I'd advise sampling it immediately, and then you will surely understand. It was probably the best meal for under $30 that I've had in ages.

Comme Ça

8479 Melrose Ave.

West Hollywood, CA 90069

Try These Peas Please!

Delicious! Please give these Le Sueur Very Young Sweet Peas a try. From Minnesota!

They're not as good as fresh and they're very different from frozen, but in their own right they are mighty tasty.

The Most Subtle Soup in the World

Last night's dinner was not spectacular. I was just too tired, and in a rotten mood to boot. I was planning a beautiful turnip and potato gratin, but I couldn't find it in me to do it.

We ended up instead with Trader Joe's Biriyani and Channa Masala (chickpeas!), sautéed turnips (thanks C.S.A.!), watercress with a lemon vinaigrette –– and soup. French Cream of Cauliflower Soup (thanks again, C.S.A.!).

This soup is the most understated soup that I have ever prepared. That may be my fault. Perhaps, not enough cauliflower and too much water. I can't tell if I ate this in a restaurant, if I would find it sublime and subtle or simply bland. It is straddling a fence, for sure.

I would definitely try this soup again, though –– twice.

Once, following the brilliant Alice Waters instructions in Chez Panisse Vegetables more carefully, using a two to three pound cauliflower, instead of an almost two pound cauliflower.

And again, using chicken stock in lieu of water. The soup would certainly be more velvety with more cauliflower, and perhaps more flavorful.

I do very much like the use of crème fraîche here, creamy yet tangy.

French Cream of Cauliflower Soup

1 large cauliflower (2 to 3 pounds)

1 onion, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 tablespoons crème fraîche

Salt

Nutmeg

Chervil

Cut off the stem and leaves of the cauliflower and break it into flowerets. Rinse them in cold water. Reserve a handful of flowerets to garnish the soup (I did not do this. I think tiny croutons would be nicer.).

In a soup pot, stew the onion and the cauliflower in the butter with a little water for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Do not let them brown. Add water to cover and cook for 25 minutes, covered, over medium heat. Meanwhile, parboil the reserved flowerets in boiling salted water for 8 minutes or so, keeping them crunchy.

Purée the soup in a blender and reheat gently to just under boiling. Add the crème fraîche and season with salt and nutmeg to taste. Serve the soup hot hot hot, garnished with the flowerets and chervil.

*** Final Note ***

I ate this soup three more times. I'm now a fan. It is still without a doubt subtle, but there is a loveliness in that. Even before I manage to remake it, I now feel able to wholeheartedly recommend this soup.

Although delightful with chives, I'm still banking on tiny buttery brioche croutons as the winning garnish here.

More CSA Bounty... Carrots Redux

I've forgotten about carrots for years now.

I haven't considered the carrot as a worthy vegetable in its own right since the days when I worked in a restaurant kitchen in Santa Cruz, California.

Back then, at Oswald, we served roasted carrots with roast pork and fig jam, alongside garlic mashed potatoes. That was back in the '90s. The garlic mashed potatoes were probably a dead giveaway. Don't they just seem so old school?

Lately carrots are making a big comeback for me.

They've been showing up with quite a bit of regularity in our CSA bag, and I'm remembering that they don't have to be relegated to the stock pot. I've been cooking them up with a little butter and chopped shallots for Fe, and they are a hit.

Though what's really got me excited is the Carrot Salad with Cumin and Garlic recipe from Claudia Roden's Arabesque.

This is definitely one of the easiest recipes in the book. It takes no time at all. There really isn't much to it, but somehow it heats up your relationship with carrots all over again. Plus it pleases the whole family. Fe is a fan.

Carrot Salad with Cumin and Garlic

5 large carrots (about 1 1/4 pounds)

4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

4 garlic cloves, crushed

1 teaspoon ground cumin

salt and black pepper

juice of 1/2 a lemon

Peel the carrots and trim the ends. Cut them in half or thirds crosswise and cut each section into quarters to produce sticks. Boil in salted water for 8 to 10 minutes until tender, but not mushy.

In a large saute pan, heat the oil and add the carrots, garlic, cumin, and salt and pepper to taste. Saute on medium heat, stirring or shaking and flipping, until the garlic just begins to color. Toss with the lemon juice and serve cold.

No One Cares What You Had For Lunch

Okay that may be true, but I do. This is a weblog for me –– a place to keep track of what I have been cooking, what I have been eating and what I have been reading. So, sorry if it may seem like a big bore, but I am going to post what we've been eating on a regular basis.

This may prove to be supremely humiliating on the third night of reheated pizza, but so be it. I think it will help me become a better cook, and a more organized cook. It will also help me avoid repeating the same boring sides over and over again. I have a zillion cookbooks for pete's sake! Time to really use them.

Mizuna

I'm home alone tonight. Fe is here, but thankfully he is asleep.

When I'm alone, my meals fall into the same categories on a regular basis... Canned fish, toast, eggs, chicken, and lots of whatever vegetables are in the fridge.

That's a list that does not make for sexy food writing, but honestly I've been sick of sexy food writing since the 90's.

And to sidetrack for just a second... any food writing that even hints at any type of "goodness" gives me a strong gag reflex. What a hideously generic way to describe something... the cheesy goodness, the sticky goodness, or worse... the gooey goodness. Yuck.

These days my fridge is filled with vegetables, thanks to the CSA that I belong to. I'm almost struggling to keep our consumption of vegetables on track, so that we aren't dragging to finish the previous week's bounty.

Lots of dandelion greens and mizuna.

Mizuna is a japanese dandelion green that is less hardy and a fair bit less bitter. Unless dandelion greens are very young, they are really best cooked. Mizuna on the other hand does very well raw in salads, or cooked.

The preparation that I used tonight was so simple and probably not really worth reporting, but I can't help myself. It was really pretty great. You can do this with dandelion greens or mizuna. For some reason, I was just loving the moisture-filled stems of the mizuna tonight.

Sautéed Mizuna

Heat some olive oil in a pan. Add some chopped garlic and crushed red pepper. Let it sizzle a bit, and then add a washed and chopped bunch of mizuna. Stir to coat the mizuna with the oil. Add some chicken stock and let simmer until the liquid has mostly evaporated. Season with salt and pepper.

I know, not even a recipe really.

So, to the menu tonight, add some leftover cumin and coriander roasted broccoli and whole grain toast with imported tuna and well, you get the idea... very in keeping with my usual Wednesday nights.

Stay tuned for a bit on our visit to Church and State in downtown Los Angeles, and very likely a short rib recipe. And, oh yes, carrots.

Braised Celery, Not an Entree

Braised celery is not the perfect dish to serve as an entree, even if you are tired and your husband is not that hungry.

Trust me. It may be delicious, but it looks lousy all by its lonesome on the plate with nothing to keep it company but a bowl of leftover carrot soup.

I tried to pull this off, and it is not a good idea.

The celery was going to be a side for some lamb chops, and that would have been a hit. I just didn't realize that I would be moving so slowly and that Molly Steven's dish from All About Braising would take so long. Occasionally, I forget to read all the way to the end of the recipe...

Ah ha! The celery cooks for an hour and fifteen minutes!

So I short-changed the cooking time by about fifteen minutes. Sometimes I get sloppy and desperate at the end of the night. Be forewarned! I believe the fifteen minutes, and better stringing of the celery, would have made all the difference.

I also thought I had been so thorough with my handy paring knife. Nope. Next time –– and there will be a next time, because this dish is good –– I will use a peeler and get all of the fibrous strings off of those stalks. There is always so much to learn, even about something as basic and undervalued as celery.

Just a quick note. Molly Stevens is amazing and her book, All About Braising, is one of the books I use the most regularly with the most confidence. If you don't already own this book, please drop everything and pick up a copy.

Winter is the perfect time to start a relationship of this sort.

Braised Celery with Crunchy Bread Crumb Topping

2 tablespoons unsalted butter at room temperature

1 head celery (about 1 3/4 pounds)

1 large shallot or 1 small onion finely minced (about 1/4 cup)

1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme or 1/2 teaspoon dried

kosher salt and ground black pepper

1/4 cup dry white wine or dry white vermouth

1 cup chicken stock

1/3 cup grated Gruyere

4 tablespoons fresh bread crumbs made from day-old bread

Heat the oven to 325 degrees. Butter a large gratin or baking dish using half of the butter.

Wash and trim the celery . Tear the stalks from the head. you will need 10 to 12 large outer stalks. When you reach the tender stalks of the heart, stop tearing. Reserve the heart. Rinse the stalks thoroughly. Trim off the top part of each stalk where it branches into leaves. Set the tops aside with the heart. Using a vegetable peeler, thoroughly scrape away the outside of each stalk to remove all the fibrous strings. Cut the stalks into 4-inch lengths. Arrange the the celery in a single layer in the baking dish. Some overlapping is okay.

Finely chop the reserved celery and leaves. Melt the remaining butter in a medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add the shallot, thyme, and chopped celery heart and leaves. Season with salt and pepper. Saute, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft and beginning to brown, about 10 minutes. Pour in the wine and simmer until the pan is almost dry, about 3 minutes. Add the stock and simmer until reduced by half, not more, about another 4 to 6 minutes.

Pour the celery-shallot mixture over the celery stalks. Cover with foil and place in the middle of the oven for approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes. The celery should have collapse and feel very tender when prodded with a knife.

Remove the celery from the oven and increase the temperature to 400 degrees. Sprinkle the cheese and bread crumbs over the celery and return to the oven until the cheese is melted and top is crusty and brown, about 10 minutes more.

Serve hot or warm.

C.S.A.

I've been wanting to join a C.S.A. (Community Supported Agriculture) organization for at least a few years now. I've looked, but surprisingly here in sunny Los Angeles there were not many options.

Thankfully this has changed. C.S.A.s allow you to partake in a local farmer's harvest on a regular basis. You are essentially a shareholder in the harvest. You pay a set amount and receive a box or bag of produce on a regular basis.

I signed up with Silver Lake Farms. That is about as local as you can get, considering we live in Echo Park. Friday was my first pickup. The haul was as follows:

carrots

cilantro

radishes

arugula (my favorite!)

spinach

romaine

mizuna

dandelion greens

green garlic

celery

red onion

This is a lot of fun! You get a big surprise every week. It challenges you to use whatever is at hand. It's a way better deal than shopping at Whole Foods!

A fantastic book to have in your collection and at the ready after joining a C.S.A. is Chez Panisse Vegetables by Alice Waters. She organizes it by vegetable, so that you are able to simply flip to the Carrot section to find the perfect recipe to take advantage of the carrots, cilantro, and red onion from your C.S.A. sack.

So here we go: Carrot and Cilantro Soup.

I made this soup for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a perfect puree. Very smooth and carroty and the cilantro salsa that you garnish it with is bright and spicy. It is not too sweet as some carrot soups can be.

The version I made yesterday was perhaps a little too light on carrots and a little too heavy on potatoes. It was still delicious, but I've changed the recipe a little bit to help avoid yesterday's flaws.

Carrot and Cilantro Soup

1 white onion, peeled and sliced

3 tablespoons butter

2 pounds carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks

1/2 pound potatoes, peeled and cut into large chunks

salt and pepper

1 1/2 quarts chicken stock

1/4 pound cilantro

1 small red onion

2 serrano or jalapeno peppers

juice of 1 lime

Stew the onions in the butter in a covered heavy pot over low heat. Once the onions are quite soft, add the carrots and potatoes, salt generously and continue to stew, covered, for an additional 10 minutes. Add the chicken stock to cover, and simmer until the vegetable are cooked through. Remove pot from the heat.

Reserve a handful of the cilantro for the salsa, and throw the rest into the pot. Puree the soup and strain it through a medium sieve. Do not leave out the straining step! It makes all the difference. Just ask Thomas Keller! Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. Make a little salsa with the red onion, cilantro, peppers, and lime juice. Chop it all up and stir it together with a little salt.

Heat the soup until warm, ladle into bowls, garnish with salsa and serve.

Two Quick Bites

One good thing... My memory card for my new camera should be here tomorrow. That means pictures with the posts are coming shortly.

Something worth noting... Tonight I made Fe a scrambled egg in white truffle butter. He ate the whole thing. No complaints.

The kid has good taste.

2010 Saveur 100, #25

My absolute favorite issue of Saveur each year is the Saveur 100. It sparks a crazy desire in me to consume, cook, and splurge on many of the items listed. How else would I have ended up with dried mulberries in my pantry? I forget which year that was...

This year did not disappoint. I must get a hold of #93, Lingham's Hot Sauce. I know with all certainty that I need flour sack towels, #60, so that I can finally dry my wine glasses lint-free.

I was especially delighted to stumble over #25, The New York Times International Cookbook by Craig Claiborne. My mother has been cooking from that book for us my entire life.

When I went to college and first started to cook for myself, I wanted to follow in my mother's footsteps. She was my inspiration –– the best cook I knew. I scoured the used bookstores looking for her cookbooks.

I've had my own copy for years, copyright 1971. That's one year before I was born. It's categorized by countries and offers recipes from Barbados, Dahomey, France, Morocco, Trinidad and beyond.

Tonight I'm cooking from the Japan section... Beef Teriyaki I.

Perhaps the name won't win you over, but the simplicity of the recipe should. I've been eating it forever. Here's my take:

Beef Teriyaki I

1/3 cup sake or dry sherry
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp. grated or minced fresh ginger or 1/2 tsp. ground ginger
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 lemon, thinly sliced
1 to 1 1/2 lbs. flank steak

Combine the sake, soy sauce, sugar, ginger, garlic, and lemon and stir until the sugar is dissolved.

Add the flank steak whole and marinate for a half hour or longer.

Take the meat from the marinade and pat dry.

Heat the marinade in a small pan. This will be your sauce. Don't be alarmed by how thin the sauce is. It will still be delicious.

Cook the meat under the broiler for approximately four minutes per side until meat is cooked no more than medium rare. If you are afraid of your broiler, like I am, feel free to cook in a pan on the stove. Hot pan, vegetable oil... four minutes per side until just past rare.

Slice against the grain and serve over rice with sauce.

Hungry Monkey

I'm trying to keep track of what I'm doing. Or what I'm trying to do.

I make a mental note to do at least one vegetarian meal a week or to braise some cabbage or to freeze a batch of pesto and –– poof! –– it's gone.

There are a lot of distractions around here. Two dogs, two cats, one husband, and a 13 month old. I lose my head so easily. Mental notes just do not work for me. The last post is dated about a year and a half ago. So yes... distractions.

Speaking of our 13 month old... I've been reading Hungry Monkey by Matthew Amster-Burton. (I want to instill our passion for food in our son.) This book is a fun quick read about Amster-Burton's experience feeding his young daughter.

I'll admit it. He inspired me.

I made his no-brainer recipe for chicken breast and mushrooms today. Big hit with me, but it was spit all over the kitchen by Fe. I'm super glad that I decided to feed him in just his diaper today (70+ degrees in L.A. today!). What a mess!

That's okay. I was also prepared to make Amster-Burton's recipe for carnitas. I was skeptical when the pork was first starting to simmer on the stove in its bath of tequila and chicken broth. It smelled, frankly, too porky and gamey.

Well, 2+ hours later, I was quite pleased with the tangy pig in the pot. I was enthused! Decided to share it with Fe for dinner. Ugh. So not interested. In fact he was quite the pain in the ass during his dinner this evening. Food everywhere. Humph and Gus were thrilled. I put the kid to bed.

I want more time to cook, more time with my son, and less time doing dishes. I need to develop a plan for efficiency. That plan is nowhere in sight at this point.

I did however manage to enjoy cooking this evening. The carnitas are nearly done, just need to do a last minute fry-job. I made Amster-Burton's recipe for rajas, but found it to be just roasted poblanos.

I pulled up a variation of Rick Bayless's rajas on the internet and put Amster-Burton's poblanos to good use along with some onions, garlic, bay leaf, thyme, marjoram, oregano, and chicken broth.

There is a small pot of black beans, onions, garlic, and cumin simmering on the stove waiting for a handful of chopped cilantro to bring it to life. The tortillas are waiting for some heat.

I'm drinking a little glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and I'm waiting for the screech of the gates outside to let me know that my man is home and that we can eat.

* POSTSCRIPT *

This dinner was fabulous! The carnitas recipe is spectacularly simple and the flavor is outstanding. My sister tried them the third day as leftovers and is now craving them. We may do a repeat on Wednesday night.

The rajas are a must. And just one last note... grease the corn tortillas up a little bit with olive or vegetable oil or the whole thing might seem a little dry.

Ground Pork...

Trying to figure out some dinner. Ground pork... Maybe Pork & Lem on Polpettine from The Kitchen Diaries. If I have the energy. Or it might be Ma Po Tofu from a box... Still not to bad. We'll see.

Hungry!