Tag Archives: California

Back to California

Sunset Over Harmony Bird SanctuarySunset Over Harmony Bird Sanctuary

Well, at the crack of ass tomorrow, I’m flying back to Sunny So-Cal. Yes, I’ll be driving up to No-Cal while I’m there, but I just can’t seem to stay away from California these days.

I know I have often said that LA is the nadir of human culture, and it may be, but that doesn’t mean that it’s all bad. It’s certainly preferable to, say, Des Moines. California, North and South, just has a different idiom from the rest of America; it’s part Western independence, part intense aloofness but also a strange kind of inherent truth. I can’t explain it fully.

And it’s also home to some very important people in my life, one of whom turns 80 next week. You know what that means: I’m making 80 cupcakes on Friday, boo-ya. I’m also going on a pasta-making adventure. I’m locking myself in the house with 10 different kinds of flour and I am going to write a cohesive pasta recipe that I actually like- whoa.

Speaking of pasta, there are just a handful of whole wheat pappardelle left in the freezer, and it’s time to feed this fish. I’m thinking butter, cheese… maybe something green.

Remember, when in doubt- add some frozen peas.

Also, since this post doesn’t seem to be about anything specific, I’ll just mention that I have been catching up on [Carol in Maryland who's cooking her way through the French Laundry Cookbook](http://carolcookskeller.blogspot.com/). If you haven’t read this woman’s blog, you need to in a hurry. She’s a passionate home cook, with a job, kids, a business, and she’s making puff pastry from scratch. And trust me, Betty Crocker she ain’t. If you’re expecting some odious Marth Stewart type, just check out her [video of lobsters lip-synching Celine Dion on their way to the big steamer in the sky](http://carolcookskeller.blogspot.com/2007/05/butter-poached-maine-lobster-with-leeks.html).

It’s not so much moribund as it is darkly humorous. All I know is I would not want to be on her bad side.

Listening: “Mekong” The Refreshments Fizzy Fuzzy Big and Buzzy

Dinner in Berkeley

The East Bay has its own [Fairway](http://omnivorousfish.com/node/62): [Berkeley Bowl](http://www.berkeleybowl.com/pages/main.html). It’s not the same as Fairway, some things are better, some not as good, and they don’t have any angry UWS blue hairs crashing their carts into you, but it’s quite a place. I stopped there to pick up a few things for yet another memorable meal with a fellow food blogger.
Lamb and OkraLamb and Okra
Well, when I say fellow, what I mean is a real food blogger. People read her blog, and she has, like, traffic and stuff. I’m talking, of course, about the ravishing Shuna “Fish” Lydon of [Eggbeater](http://eggbeater.typepad.com).

We dodged hippies and faced off with moms on cell phones, but we came up with the spoils of an interesting if not completely balanced meal:

**Marinated Japanese cucumbers with radishes
Stew of morels and english peas over artichoke bottoms
Okra with corn and tomatoes
Rack of lamb with agrodolce jus, herb butter and wild asparagus
Plumcots**

The cucumbers were sort of inspired by a dish from [O Chame](http://www.themenupage.com/ochame.html) in Berkeley. It was a salad of Japanese cucumbers cut in large chunks with sliced icicle radishes, dressed with salt, pepper and [Banyuls](http://www.epicurious.com/drinking/wine_dictionary/search?query=banyuls&submit.x=0&submit.y=0&submit=submit) vinegar. Very complex, very good.

The stew was the sum of several dishes and ideas I’ve had and thought of over the years. I sauteed some shallots and carrots in butter and olive oil, then added morels and mushrooms and cooked until all their water was released. I added some stock which reduced most of the way, and some cream, then the peas.

Meanwhile, I carved the artichokes. You basically peel away the outer leaves, then pare around the bottom, until only the soft inner leaves and meat are left. Then you scoop out the fuzzy choke until you’re left with a completely edible little cup (be sure to pare yourself a flat bottom). Trim and cook your chokes in acidulated water (with lemon juice or vinegar added) to keep your artichoke bottoms from turning the color you look after your third jaegermeister. Then, put them in the oven with a little butter, and when they’re just hot, cover with the stew and bake them together until you feel good about it.
Carving Artichoke BottomsCarving Artichoke Bottoms
Filling Artichokes with StewFilling Artichokes with Stew
Shuna made the okra, sauteeing sliced pods in olive oil until they caramelized, then covered them with white corn kernels and covered the pan. When the corn was mostly steamed, she added chopped tomatoes and cooked everything together *a point*, as my old chef would say.
Okra SauteOkra Saute
The lamb was marinated with carrots, shallots, olive oil, white raisins and herbs: parsley, thyme, savory and mint. When the time came, the rack was seared on the stove, then covered with the vegetables from the marinade and finished in the oven to medium rare. We made a pan sauce with more banyuls vinegar, stock and butter, and an herb butter with the same herbs from the marinade, but since I decided to season it while smoking crack, it wasn’t all it could be. These were served with beautiful little wild asparagus, blanched and tossed in butter, they were like little green wheat stalks. Kind of. In my imagination.

Leave me alone.

Sauteeing Wild AsparagusSauteeing Wild Asparagus
Anyway, it rocked and rollled and we sat on the couch and ate plumcots.
DinnerDinner

Pictures by Shuna and ruined by Drupal Image. I’m working on that…
Listening: birds. No, not The Byrds, just birds.

Santa Cruz Farms- Oh. My. God.

I’m exhausted, and I’m on an adrenaline rush from a gorgeous day out and about in the farmland south of San Francisco. I can barely talk, but I’ll let the photos do the work.

Let me take the opportunity to thank Tana “Banana” Butler from [I Heart Farms](http://smallfarms.typepad.com) for taking time to share this incredible landscape and charming grandson with me.

First, we visited former Tai Chi instructor Bob Thorson and his partner Jean Harrah at Deep Roots Ranch in Watsonville. They bought the farm- so to speak- from Jean’s parents who had rented the land to berry farmers who left the soil in less than ideal shape. Bob and Jean- with help from Gort the Dog, have grown a beautiful and fully functional animal pasture in its place, with grasses, clover and wildflowers growing as high as me in places.

GortGort

View from Pig Pen- not kiddingView from Pig Pen- not kidding

After lunch and some misadventures with a group of septuagenarian cyclists, we hit the Farmers’ Market, where I got to meet Joe Schermer from Dirty Girl Farms- which, by the way, is in the city limits of Santa Cruz, also unbelievably, neighboring another farm.

I also got to meet Joe Rubin from Live Earth Farm just as he was giving what-for to some old bat preoccupied with USDA organic, trying to tell him that “we” need the USDA to tell us what is good and what isn’t. Joe’s answer? Buy produce from a farmer who lives in your community that you can talk to and visit the farm.

Joe RubinJoe Rubin

This woman, who- by the way- is at a farmers’ market talking to a farmer, tells Joe that people aren’t going to talk to farmers. I almost grabbed her by the cheap straw hat and said, ‘Yeah, foxy mama, let’s trust the government with our food just like foreign policy. Yeah!.’

Theresa's ProduceTheresa’s Produce

Anyhoo. I also met this very nice/cool woman named Theresa, the name of whose farm I didn’t scribble down, but I did take a picture of her beautiful self, beautiful produce and rocking t-shirt (it’s the most basic precept of organic farming). John Gorzynski, if given an ear to bed, can go on and on about “the husbandry of the soil.” If you have the opportunity to have your ear so bent, I recommend you listen.

Theresa talked me into some Berenice Lettuce, which is a slightly bitter green oak leaf variety; and she twisted my arm damn near out of its socket to buy some garlic scapes, a few weeks ahead of NY’s scapes, no less.

Theresa and Her Cool ShirtTheresa and Her Cool Shirt

The day sort of randomly ended with us cooking the spoils for dinner at Tana’s with her partner Bob and their super cool grandson Logan (Logie-O), who discovered this rocking hiding spot at the market.

Logan's FeetLogan’s Feet

Listening: The rental car has a jack for an iPod. We love that. Right now, it’s REM: Orange Crush.

On Stock

I’m writing this from beautiful long beach, CA. More on this later.

I wrote the [last recipe I posted here]( http://omnivorousfish.com/node/135) somewhat in haste, and I all but skipped over a topic that I feel is little understood, or at least improperly considered, in cooking: the place of stock.

As we go through our lives as cookbook readers, countless hours have been spent poring over the basic preparations in the backs of the cookbooks written by our favorite chefs and cookbook authors. Many of these sundry recipes- and often whole prose chapters- are dedicated to the topic of stock, its importance and, certainly, its preparation. Interestingly, the role of stock in the greater food consciousness is little discussed. I am here to tell you that homemade stock is not indispensable, or at least, one can still cook without it.

Cooks in restaurants need only go over to the kettle or walk-in to get white or brown stock. On television, a bubbling brew simmers in a shiny overpriced saucepan, ready to be put into service. Indeed, stock, *petits-fours* and *tournee* of vegetables are all well and good if one has a staff, especially a free or nearly free staff of externs, apprentices and dishwashers. Meanwhile, on earth, we all have lives.

I have a job. I’m very fortunate that I have a job that usually leaves me with four free weekdays to do with as I please, so it’s not uncommon that I spend at least one of those days in a complicated cooking preparation, and if that preparation involves meat, rest assured, there will be stock. After all, if the kitchen is already unfurled, what trouble is it to throw the detritus in a pot at the back of the stove? However, that doesn’t mean that I make stock to order. In fact, it often gets made during the course of a simpler preparation. That stock then goes in the freezer. Not in a block, mind you. I might put a cup or two at a time to freeze in small containers, but the majority of the stock I make ends up frozen in ice cube trays. Then I store the cubes in a plastic bag in the freezer, ready to use in increments of about 3 tablespoons. It’s a marvelous system.

Do I always have stock in the freezer? No. I get busy, you get busy, we all scream for ice cream. What, then, do you do when you have the need to cook, but the stock has run dry?

Well, the first answer to that question is, consider what you are making. Remember what is perhaps the oldest cooking truism: the quality of what you are making will be in proportion to the quality of the ingredients that you put into it. It may seem backwards to make this point first, but lest I be accused of heresy, I want to make this absolutely clear: if you are going to make *consomme madrilene* you absolutely must use a great stock. *Sauce Perigord* deserves the time and effort of *glace de viande* that you have fine tuned for your taste and your guests.

But what about a pan sauce? Maybe you’ve fried up some pork chops and apples for dinner and want to have a nice little brown elixir to moisten them, perhaps in the oven for a moment, or just on the plate? You look in the freezer and- forsooth- your scurrilous roommate has used the last of the veal stock. The first thing I would suggest is to look around. Maybe there is some leftover roast beef in the fridge with a ton of gravy on it, or turkey gravy, even. There’s a half empty bottle of wine over there that you weren’t crazy about, and, look, the string beans are ready to be drained of their green, vegetal cooking medium. Taste the water: it tastes like string beans. This is the larger point: you can deglaze the pan with water and have a decent sauce, but the more depth of flavor you put into your choice of liquid, the more depth of flavor your sauce will have. The following is from the ingredients list of a [post on risotto]( http://omnivorousfish.com/node/105):

>stock, water or other flavorful liquid (dried mushroom soaking liquid, cheese rinds (not wax ones) simmered in water for a half hour, half-strength bouillon from Knorr brand cubes, water from cooking vegetables, almost anything)

I don’t expect anyone to have all these things just lying around, but if you cook often, you’d be amazed how often one of these things, or something similar, is staring you in the face. How often have you barbecued steaks and had that big plate full of succulent juice leftover? (For me the answer is never, because I drink and/or sop up anything that’s left, but I’ve seen people throw it away. This is sacrilege.) Pasta water (that is to say the water from cooking pasta) should be bottled and sold.

My point is that anything that has flavor has value, and it is through the frugal conservation of flavor that everyday items can be imbued with uncommon tastiness with little or no effort on the cook’s part.

This brings me to my last and most controversial point: bouillon cubes. Stay with me for a second. I don’t recommend the idle use of bouillon made at the strength recommended on the package. What I do recommend is the judicious use of half or three-quarter strength high-quality condensed stock. I often have an open cube in the box that I might crumble a little corner off of to throw in a simmering pan sauce. Thick soups are done no harm by bouillon, and even if they don’t come to their full zenith as they might with a lovingly made stock, they will be better than they would if made with water.

The great Andre Soltner, in his book The Lutece Cookbook, recommends Knorr brand bouillon cubes by name. If they’re good enough for Andre, they’re good enough for me.