A Morning Stroll Through Fairy Land

Clearly, as evident by the lack of postings, yours truly has not been doing much cooking since his arrival in San Fran.  Instead, as promised, J and I have been steadily eating our way through this amazing culinary city paying little to no attention to cost or calorie intake.  A fool's paradise.  And my a$$ is getting fat.

So, until I wake up from this dream, allow me to paint you a picture of my fairy tale existence in the City by the Bay.

Please read in the most delightfully overly dramatic, British fey voice.

Our hero...in modest repose.

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom called San Francisco, there lived a handsome foodie prince named Scott who was visiting from out of town.  Each morning, a flight of animated birds emerged from the kitchen drawing back the curtains heralding the beginning of a new day as a tiny fawn gently pulls back the covers, nudging him awake with his cool snout.  Springing out of the bed, young Scott dons his gay apparel and follows the birds back to the kitchen to enjoy the freshly brewed coffee awaiting him.

Stepping out of the house, he blithely passes through the park greeting the pups and their people with a lighthearted smile. (Note:  survey says that there are more dogs in San Francisco than children...and I miss the Buster dog).  Oh, look!  Is that a fancy ice cream store churning out deliciousness for the neighborhood?  It is! ('Nother note:  Bi-Rite Creamery makes a Salted Caramel ice cream that will make you slap your pappy.)  There's a beautiful bunch of tulips...I must buy some upon my return home.  Good morning locally owned and operated organic food store!  My taste buds and ecologically conscious mind thank you.

And there it is.  At the end of the block, shining in the morning light, is the most magical place on earth: Tartine.  One step inside this holy shrine and you realize you are not in Kansas anymore.  Glass cases are filled to the brim with freshly baked cakes and breads while atop these glittering vessels of baked love sit cookies and French macaroons, silent and tasty prisoners longing to be liberated from their glass domed cells. Decadent pastries known as Morning Buns, close cousins to the cinnamon bun but on orange infused sugar steroids, call out your name.  Croque monsieur beckon to take them home like the wanton Frenchmen they are.  How does one make up one's mind?

Gourge, double pain aut chocolat, croissant, morning buns, tea cakes, and quiche!

You don't and you order half the store.  

So move along, princess, and get your fat butt back up that hill, you've got some eating to do!

Dopey Strikes Again

It's chilly in San Fran today.  Hmmm....Soup.  Pea soup.

First time I'd used fresh lemongrass.

First time I'd used a blender to puree.

First time I'd covered the kitchen in green goop.

J was right.  I do cook like one of the Seven Dwarfs.  But what I scraped up was absolutely delicious!

San Fran Pea Soup with Lemongrass and Ginger

This soup is simple to make, super tasty, and leaves a nice scald on your hand if you don't move quick enough.  My recommendation: use an immersion blender or let the sucker cool before using a regular blender.

1 cup onion, chopped
2 stalks lemongrass
1 Tbl fresh ginger, peeled and diced
1 clove garlic
2 cups frozen peas
3 cups chicken stock
pinch of red pepper flakes
salt 'n pepper

In a large saucepan, heat up 2 Tbl olive oil and get those onions sweatin'.  While that starts, trim up the lemongrass removing the long ends and the butts.  With the back of a large knife, whack the crap out of the stalks to help release the oils.  Add to the onions along with the ginger, garlic, and red pepper.  Season with a little salt and pepper, and saute those babies for about 5 minutes.  Add stock and peas.  Bring to a boil.  Remove lemongrass stalks.  Their work is done.

Using an immersion blender (OR LETTING IT COOL DOWN A BIT), puree soup until smooth.  Give a little squeeze o' lemon and you have a warming soup that leaves a mark!  Enjoy!

Feeling Famous on the Roof

Last year I was in NYC and all I wanted to do was "feel famous".  Feeling famous is that delicious spiritual state where in your mind everyone knows you, everyone wants to be you, and you look damn cute bein' you (usually in an imagined metallic neon pink bubble skirt circa 1987).

That is feeling famous in New York.

However, in San Francisco that famous feeling is a bit more subdued. 

And it involves khakis.

Last night, J and I had our good friend K over for dinner at Barbary Lane and the evening was all about simple pleasures in a true San Fran kinda way.  While J and K, friends with such a deep connection and history they may as well be kin, watched old videos and perused a few historical snap shots, I donned my gay apparel (i.e. salmon sweater), grabbed my reusable, planet sustaining bag and skipped down the hill to the corner market to buy local ingredients for our feast, passing guitar playing lesbians, slightly chemically altered skateboarders, and pierced people walking theirs pets.  I was in heaven.

When I returned, a simple supper enjoyed on the rooftop with good wine, fabulous bread, and even better company.

Jason's Carbonara

I first encountered this dish while working at Bari Ristorante in Memphis prepared by Jason Severs.  For the real deal, be sure to check his out! I had never made it before, and the results were pretty outstanding.  The real deal calls for pancetta in lieu of the bacon and there are no peas in the original, but you gotta work with what ya got, no?

1 medium onion
12 oz Applewood smoked bacon
4 egg yolks
1 lb linguine
1 1/2 cup frozen peas
2 Tbl chopped parsley
a couple of pinches of red pepper flakes
1/2 cup grated reggiano parmigiano
1 Tbl butter/oil

In a small saucepan, heat butter or oil over medium low heat.  Halve onion, slicing into thin rings and add to butter. Caramelize the onions, stirring occasionally (about 25 minutes).  Remove from heat and place in a large mixing bowl.

Slice bacon into 1 1/2 inch strips and crisp up those suckers.  Drain excess fat on a paper towel, allowing to cool slightly.  Add to bowl with onions.

Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil, liberally salt water, and cook pasta per box directions.  While the pasta cooks, add yolks, red pepper, parsley and cheese to the bowl.  With about one minute remaining to the pasta cooking time, add the frozen peas to the water.  Drain pasta and peas and immediately add to the bowl.  Using tongs, twirl pasta to combine the ingredients thoroughly.  Serve immediately.

I Ate a Heart in San Francisco

San Francisco's Black Sweet Heart

Okay.

So it's been a while.

Lots to catch up on.  The short version:  Heading towards mid-life crisis, loved ones dying, and Oprah was going off the air.  I needed a change.  Not a maudlin change, just an "It's Now of Never" sort of moment that makes one temporarily insane and utterly convinced one has achieved a nearly euphoric state of clarity, vision, and purpose. So I gave my notice, squashed the hearts of some very amazing young Thespians, and currently find myself a free agent in need of a job.

Make that a free agent in need of a job who now finds himself in San Francisco.  For now.

From the moment we landed, J and I had a singular vision...to eat our way through the city.  After hoofing it across most of Everybody's Favorite City, we landed at J's favorite spot in the world for Thai food - Suriya.

You would have to travel to Siam in order to find more authentic and delicious Thai cuisine.  The menu is fresh and seasonal featuring tasty delights for the carnivore as well as the veggiesaur. We enjoyed 13 Spice Lamb chops with spiced potatoes and a curiously, fiery little dish known as Crazy Jungle curry...or Kooky Pants Psycho Jungle curry...or some kind of name suggesting that there is a madman loose in the jungle and he is preparing really spicy, pumpkiny goodness.

The highlights, however, were at the beginning and end of the meal.  To start, we had the most divine stuffed eggplant, a simple dish featuring those little aubergines crammed full with a chicken and shrimp combo (think almost sausage-like) accompanied by the loveliest,  most verdant, herbaceous sauce I have ever tasted.  Spinach, oyster sauce, basil, cilantro, and a host of other ingredients dancing around the plate highlighting the unctuous flavor of the eggplant and the sweetly savory quality of the meat. J had to forcefully prevent me from licking the plate.  Fortunately, we got the skinny from our server, and I will be playing around with creating my own version (stay tuned for that one).

The real kicker came for dessert:  sweet, sticky black rice with mango.  I know.  Sounds odd.  But the rice had been combined with what tasted like a combination of coconut and condensed milks then placed in the center of slices of fresh mango arranged into the shape of a heart.  Cheesy?  Yes.  Delicious?  Absolutely.  So get yo' @$$ on over to the Bay City and eat yo' heart out.

What's your favorite "crazy" dessert?

Mama's Comin'...

and I can't bake.

Damn.

She does have a taste for ice cream, though.

What if I combined Punk'n Pie with ice cream...

hmmmmm....

Vi-Oh-Lay!

Punk'n Pie Ice Cream


2 cups whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 15 oz can pumpkin
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground cloves
2 Tbl maple syrup

Combine ingredients in a bowl and mix reeeeeeaallly well.  I recommend using a food processor or an immersion blender.  Pour mixture into ice cream maker and mix that goodness up for 25 minutes (or according to the manufacturers instructions).  Spoon into a separate container and freeze for at least 30 minutes.

Serve with ginger snaps.

Aneeda Baker

I am very susceptible to suggestion.

Once I see something, I have a tendency to glom onto it and not let go until I have either obtained, mastered, or exhausted it.  For two solid weeks I have been whipping my hair back and forth thanks to Willow Smith.  When I saw Iron Man, I flew around the hallways at school "shooting" students with imaginary blasters.

And anything Ina Garten makes, I must make as soon as possible.

I can roast a chicken with the volume turned up.  I can whip up a fabulous pavlova.  I can even make an elegantly simple floral arrangement grouping like colored flowers of varying sizes suitable for the entire gay population of the Hamptons.

But for some reason, I cannot bake.

I have tried to make Ina's friggin Gingerbread Cupcakes with Orange Frosting, and each time they turned out like delicious little undigestible hockey pucks guaranteed to stove you up for at least a three days.   I have used the paddle attachment as the Ina has instructed.  I have used an electric mixer. I have even mixed the entire concoction by hand to ensure I don't over mix the damn things.  And still, tiny little ginger scented doorstops.

Gastroterrorism in cupcake form.

I have decided that the improviser in me refuses to bow to the rigid constraints of the baker's regime and have abandoned all hope of ever winning the dessert round on Chopped.

If you have any tips on how to make these things edible, I would love to hear 'em.

Please note that I would never besmirch the name of Ina Garten and take full responsibility for my failure.  I am not worthy.


But I would love to live in her barn.

Back to life

So.

Earlier I stated that in my "other life" I am a high school theatre teacher.  Given my two month absence from my haven of cooking on the interweb, it has become painfully clear that my other life has taken over my other, other life.

Tonight, I walked in from work, journals to grade, scenes to evaluate, end of term comments to write, a (gulp) middle school play to cast, and said, "Screw it."

And I decided to cook.

So I made a bee line for my Gourmet Today cookbook to find my fave fall recipe, Chicken with Black Pepper-Maple Sauce (p. 409), and I dove right in to spatchcoking the $#!* out of that chicken.  Shoulders fell as autumn aromas filled my tiny kitchen.  Anxiety left as I roasted potatoes with fresh rosemary, garlic and lemon wedges.  And, spirits lifted as I finally perfected a squash soup recipe (all previous attempts looking like something akin to gravy).

And I remembered that my soul is always brighter when I'm dancing around a soup pot.

Curried Acorn Squash Soup

This soup is a fantastic combo of sweet and savory.  If you've got it, top off each bowl with a bit of black salt. It cuts through the sweetness of the apples and makes it look real purty like.

2 cups onion, chopped
1 carrot
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium acorn squash, peeled and chopped into cubes
2 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and chopped
3 Tbl olive oil
2 Tbl curry powder
1 tsp galangal
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp groung corriander
4 cups chicken stock
1/2 cup apple cider
salt 'n pepper

In a large stock pot, heat oil and curry powder for about 1 minute.  Add onions, sprinkle with a bit of salt and pepper, and stir until coated.  Cook for about 5 minutes.  Add carrots,garlic, and remaining spices, and cook for an additional 5 minutes.  Stir in squash and apples, cover, and cook for 5 - 7 minutes, until squash begins to become tender.  Add stock and bring to boil.  Reduce heat, add cider, and simmer for ten minutes.  Off the heat, puree soup with an immersion blender until smooth.