Ode to Our State Bird

Crispy fried lemongrass quail with heirloom tomatoes, silken tofu and young black pepper, courtesy of chef Mark Malicki.

It's okay to be jealous.

Save Those Vanilla Pods!

If you buy the real vanilla beans and not just the extract, pat yourself on the back. You're cooking like a pro! But wait, just because they've been scraped clean doesn't mean they're rendered useless.

Rinse them off and let them dry. Then throw them in you sugar jar! Baked goods will have an extra boost with vanilla scented sugar- and the pods last a looooong time.

My friend throws whole vanilla beans in her hot tub, but personally, I'd rather have them flavor my coffee.

Piggies!

Trout brought home these little piggies to raise for home cured bacon, tenderloin and other porky morsels this winter. I got to meet them on their drive home and wanted to introduce you. There will be more visits with them to come!

I peeked in on last year's pigs as they matured, but missed the slaughter. I think this is a crucial part of the cycle to witness as a meat eater (I suggest reading The Girl Hunter and Cleaving if it strikes an ethical cord for you). I caught the end of butchering that year and am fascinated with the efficiency of raising meat. My hat goes off to my empowered friends for putting in the hard work themselves- it makes a far more conscientious carnivore. 

I never dreamed piglets could be even stinkier than adult pigs, but I still have lots to learn if the masters' patience allows.

This essay by Thomas Keller completely changed my thinking about how we eat and cook meat, and reinforced my deep respect for the labor that goes into each ingredient we consume. Please read before you picket!

One Pig Dinner

Last week, I found myself in Healdsburg, at a Montessori school getting CPR and first-aid certified to be exact. "When in Rome," I thought afterwards, and went to Zin Restaurant, as the locals do. Having worked here just after college and again last year, this is like a second family. So yes, I'm biased.

Wednesday is One Pig Dinner Night featuring one of Tony's Local "Old Spot and Berkshire" Cross Hogs. And here I thought I was just getting an appetizer. But wait, the bread! I forgot how tangy their homemade super sourdough is. Don't mind if I do.

I went for the wine pairings, the lovely and local Sanglier Rose and Quivera Zin, both of Sonoma County. And then ate more bread.

The first course came and went- Hard Cider Braised Pork Cheek and Shank on Falls Mill Grits. It was so amazingly delicious that I couldn't bear to put my fork down to take a picture. But gee whiz, was it something else.

Second course was Smoked Shoulder and Spicy Grilled Loin, with white beans and Eastside Farm swiss chard. I cleaned my plate. 

The grand finale was maple pecan bread pudding with candied bacon. I am loving all the bacon in desserts these days! I had it stretched onto long skewers and dipped in chocolate, and then recently as a bacon cupcake. The fatty, salty, smokey flavors just beg for sugar to round them out.

Thanks for a terrific night, Zin!

Save that Ham Bone!

Last weekend, a chef friend asked me if I would use a leftover leg bone from a roasted pig. Um, yes! This may look like garbage or dog food to some, but I assure you it's pure gold. With a world of southern recipes I have yet to make swimming around in my head and a bone with lots of meat left on it, I'd have been crazy to say no.

The first thing I did was make ham stock. It's not nearly as versatile as chicken or veggie because it is so much fattier, but is a great base for lots of southern recipes. Collard greens, here I come!

I had to gingerly rotate the bone because even the largest stock pot in the house wasn't big enough for it.

Gently boiling for a couple hours will eventually pull all the meat off the bone. Pork stock takes a lot of skimming with the high fat content. (And on a sidenote, I apologize that the meat does not look more appetizing with my bottom line camera skills. Lots of props to photographers who can make meat look good in pictures!)

When I couldn't handle the stinky ham smell anymore, I pulled the pot and strained. Then I picked through the meat, pulling off all the fat, which are good for flavor, but not good to chew on.

This stock is perfect for cooking down collard greens, mixed with some of the ham hock. I had so much extra, I also made bean soup with nettles and garlic. The perfect southern gravy I want to make will have to wait till next time.

Scavenger Cooking

Read my first and second post in this foraging frenzy to catch up! It's time we took our bounty back to the kitchen to get some food in our bellies. On the menu- miner's lettuce salad, sauteed fiddlehead ferns, local oyster po' boy bruschetta, and potato nettle soup drizzled with cream.

I jumped right into the prep while I sipped some wine and shmoozed with my classmates. We carefully washed the nettles and lettuce, peeled potatoes and chopped onions and garlic for three large stock pots bubbling away on a portable stove.

Picture perfect salad garnish of nasturtiums and wild radish seed pods.

Don't forget your gloves when handling nettles! They keep stinging long after you pick 'em.

A kind soul from Marin Organic shucked oysters for our po' boys.

My personal handiwork. I never mind the stinky jobs. Just don't look too closely at my lazy knife skills!

The finished thistle, peeled at the root, boiled and chopped. Like a lovely, deeper, more mysterious celery.

The sauteed fiddleheads, as promised.

Divinity.

Our healthy helping of miner's lettuce, which I forgot to mention in the forage! Impressive how a handful from everyone can quickly add up. Also, the spritely weed on the bottom right is chickweed and usually grows alongside it.

Our finished salad. Notice the wine served in mason jars.

With one of our tour guides, Langdon Cook and some of the crew. Go to his post about the day here and look for yours truly modeling onions and garlic. And then check out our other teacher, Kevin's blog! And then buy both their books.

The dramatic baptism of the nettle to the soup pots. This gets added at the end when the potatoes are all cooked through.

The soup gets combined and then blended. Heating or blending takes the sting out of the nettle, so it can also be added to a raw green juice shake at breakfast. Great if you need ways to get extra protein and super vitamins.

The oysters were quicker to cook, just a little breading and fried in oil.

Technically we didn't personally forage these babies, but with aioli and crostini, they were my faaaavorite. I strategically stayed close to the stove.

Before the fiddleheads got sauteed, we cleaned off all those pesky little hairs for a prettier presentation.

But I still kept my eye on the oysters.

Our gorgeous labor of love, drizzled with cream and garnished with a fern.

And our foraged salad with vinaigrette, walnuts and crumbled blue cheese.

A meal and a food adventure I will never forget. Thanks, Kevin and Langdon!

"Blood, Bones and Butter" Review

I read the greatest book just before leaving for New York. Blood, Bones and Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton was like a woman's take on No Reservations by Anthony Bourdain, another food writer I adore but with a masculinity I can't relate to.

I found much common ground with so many of her experiences- such as falling into cooking unexpectedly, being in love with Italy and their cooking tradition, and wanting to write despite feeling like "all I've ever known is food." (Her words, not mine, and how validating to know that others in the food industry have felt that way!)

Hamilton strips away the glamour of the restaurant business that shows up in every other food memoir. Instead, she shows the grittiness, and the investment in it that truly makes a chef, even more than a love of food.

It's been a while since there was a book I just couldn't put down. This was also worth being 50th in line on the hold list in the library queue. Whoever reads it after me will be just as delighted, I'm sure.

So will you!

Life is Like a Shop of Chocolates

If I hadn't spent some wasted time today drooling over pictures of pastry in Google images, I never would have stumbled upon photos of my old staging spot in France!

Okay, a little more background. Just after culinary school, I went to Europe for 6 months where I worked as a trainee for La Varenne. I applied for the scholarship through Women Chefs and Restaurateurs, which led to being whisked away to lovely Burgundy for two months of recipe testing and kitchen assistance with five other lovely ladies. In exchange, we were granted the opportunity to stage for a month with a real French chef, and voila! Instant fairytale.

It was like a dream. And I didn't want to wake up, so I stayed an extra month before a backpacking extravaganza.

That was back in 2005. Was that really seven years ago? I've done a terrible job of staying in touch (mostly due to my poor written French skills), and after some basic updates over the years, the last I heard was the shop had been quiet in 2008 when I referred a friend there to do a short stint in the kitchen. As of today, I wasn't even sure the shop was still open!

Until I found photos from Adventures in Toulouse (top and bottom), who even linked to the chocolaterie's web site (middle two pics). They have a web site now! I love the internet for eventually closing in on all communication gaps in the world. I'm still in shock, although I shouldn't be, since everyone has a website or facebook page now.

The memories are coming back in full force. I can almost taste the lemon tarts.

The irony being that I have been writing a book about this shop for seven years and am now kicking it into gear to get it to press. Wow, I think that's the first time I've announced the project. This was a real kick in the behind for me to get back in touch and move forward.

And all I needed was an American in France to remind me of that.