Tagged, willing, and able

McPolack got me! Who can resist McPolack? She's fabulous. Here goes:

Four Jobs I've Had
1. Tobacco leaf stringer-upper -- a right of passage for the children of the Connecticut River Valley. I can still feel the inky gum on my forearms. Enjoy your cigar.
2. Frozen hamster brain slicer - neurobiology lab, Junior year.
3. Hopeless waitress
4. Dillard's salesgirl (men's deptartment...want some Sansabelts?)


Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over
1. Amadeus
2. Room with a View
3. Annie Hall
4. It's a Wonderful Life/ White Christmas

Four Places I've Lived
1. Boston, MA
2. Albuquerque, NM
3. Peterborough, NH
4. Windsor, CT

Four TV Shows I Love
1. Starting Over (That's two plugs! Watch the ratings rise...)
2. Lost
3. CBS Sunday Morning
4. Simpsons

Five places I've vacationed (these are some favorites):
1. California coast (Big Sur & Pt. Reyes)
2. Welfleet
3. Positano
4. Bermuda ('cuz it was my honeymoon and we sat next to Seal and Heidi Klum at lunch)
5. Key West

Five of my favorite dishes:
1. Grandma's apple crisp
2. The braised pork with cognac, prunes, sage, and walnuts I made on Saturday from Gordon Hammersley's Bistro Cooking at Home.
3. The fluffy gnocchi with cream sauce and shaved white truffles I once had at No. 9 Park.
4. A good piece of fresh walnut bread with a smear of soft-ripened cheese and fresh figs.
5. As McPolack said, anything homemade with love and care.

Four sites I visit daily:
1. Friends' blogs
2. Gawker
3. Epicurious
4. Google

Five places I would rather be right now:
1. Hmmm...in a house perched on a hill in Big Sur...
2. ...with Scott and Clio...
3. ...and my niece and nephew...
4. ...and friends...
5. ...and sister and parents and in-laws. But now it's getting crowded. So everyone has their own house, but you can walk between the houses. But they don't just barge in. And my niece and nephew sleep with my sister and her husband every other night so we can get some rest. And everyone has their own car because it's a nightmare trying to coordinate everyone. And my friends have the party house that they share, but they don't mind that we have the little cottage with the best view and the hot tub because we organized the whole thing. And better restaurants in town, and a free pass to use the hot tubs at Esalen without having to get the creepy naked group massage.

Four bloggers I am tagging:
I'm burning through my list here! Any volunteers?

What's in a name #2

Growing up in New England, most of the Italians I knew were from Sicily, Calabria, Abruzzo, Naples. For all sorts of reasons, Italian-Americans from the South tended to settle in the Northeast. Meanwhile, my family, on both sides, came from the North...Piacenza and the hill towns around Tortona in Piemonte. Somehow, we ended up in Connecticut.

So it wasn't until I was in my mid-twenties that I met another Traverso who wasn't a direct relative. It was a snowy night at a dinner party in Boston, and she was from Argentina. My family tells a story about my great-grandmother Severina who came to this country via Geona. There were two boats at that port the day she left: one heading to New York, the other to Buenos Aires. Severina chose New York and made her way to Plymouth, Massachusetts where she cooked for the men who were digging the Cape Cod Canal. After she had saved up enough money, she went back to Italy to retrieve her husband and three sons. Perhaps that Argentine woman and I were long-lost cousins, but her great-grandmother had taken the other boat.

Anyway, I digress. My point is: no Traversos. So you can imagine my delight when I learned that there was a semi-famous Italian specialty market in Santa Rosa with my very same name. In fact, people have often said, upon meeting me, "Oh, Traverso as in Traverso's?" No, I didn't think so, I said, but inside I felt the thrill of belonging, if only by association.

I finally stopped by the shop a few weeks ago. The store has been open since 1922, and is run by George Traverso and his son Michael, who represent the 3rd and 4th generations, respectively. We compared family histories enough to determine that we're not cousins, though their ancestors came from an area near Genoa and did live in Hartford for a brief period. But we had a nice chat, and they gave me a cap and a t-shirt to take home. I like to put on the shirt and dance around Scott shouting, "Traversos rule the world!"

I have to admit, though: I was hoping to find a relation. In my heart of hearts, I wanted cousins and uncles and Sunday dinners. In our family line, I'm the last Traverso. The ranks have thinned on the east coast...wouldn't it be nice to find a batch of long-lost relations out here? Instead, I went looking for family and all I got was a t-shirt.

But it's a nice shirt. And the fact is, I have a big family. It's just made up of Kirsners and Vogels and Roehls and Clios now. "Resisting change doesn't recapture the past," as the saying goes. "It loses the future."

Sundance, snow pants

Spent most of last week at Sundance, working on a travel story, watching "films," turning 35, doing a little skiing, and a fair amount of eating.

35 is big. Not old, but big. No more pretending to be in your post-grad years. No more playing young and stupid when you mess up. MTV doesn't want you anymore (fine, it was never that good anyway, we were going in different directions). Looking ahead to something that looks different from the last 15 years.

But on to the festival. A quick recap:

Celebrity sightings: Maggie Gyllenhaal (prettier in person), Justin Timberlake (shorter in person, but aren't they always?), some guy from Metallica (just what you'd expect).

Favorite movie: American Blackout (Hey, turns out one person can make a difference!)

Restaurants visited: Zoom, Chimayo, Chez Betty. Chimayo was the favorite, but I gotta say, when you live in San Francisco, you're grading on a curve most everwhere else.

Yikes, does that mean I've become one of them?

Better latte than never

Behold the best chai latte I've ever had. It's from the Pine Cone Diner in lovely Point Reyes Station.

What made it so good? No added sugar, so you can control the sweetness; just the right amount of spice and heat; and a nice crown of foam. Surprising how hard it is to find that, even here in latte land.

Photo: Kirsner's cell phone

Local favorites

One of the great thrills of going back home was the chance to visit two of my old haunts in Cambridge. The first, Formaggio Kitchen, is the former employer of Jessica from Feed and Supply, and still the best cheese shop I know. Hi-Rise Bakery is a source of superior breads, pastries, and jams, and an employer of comically grumpy and disaffected art students.

I love Formaggio not just for its good looks and jaw-dropping selection. It's the cheese cave underneath the store, where all the little live things are allowed to come to their peak ripeness before they hit the floor. With that kind of care, you're always assured that the Abbaye de Belloc for which you shell out $22/lb. for will be so good, you'll only need to eat a little bit at a time. Thereby resolving your ambivalence about paying $22 for a hunk of cheese.

As for Hi-Rise, I love them for their brichoe, their jam, and their jam-filled brioche. And the shrimp salad. The cookies and cakes and pies are also buttery and tender, but I save my calories for the jam and bread.

Hi-Rise's big downside, or charm, depending on how you look at is, lies in the subduction zone of the cash register, where cranky staff meets entitled customer. This is the great risk of doing business in places like Cambridge, and I'm not sure there's much to be done about it. The millionaire, NPR-listening, gluten-sensitive buyers believe they are each more special than the next. They struggle to share the big "family table" in the middle of the store. No room! Too many exceptional people! Meanwhile, the art students fail to conceal their contempt. And I silently project I'm not one of them, really while I order a jam-filled brioche, but with the apricot-lime jam, please, not the raspberry. No, not the apricot-lemon, the apricot-lime, 'cause I really like what the lime does to the...oh, uh, thank you.

What I did on my winter vacation

Just got back from a tour of Connecticut, New York, and Massachusetts. We never spent more than 2 nights in any one place, but I got to visit my hometown (that's the defunct 99-cent movie theater in the photo), Lenox, Stockbridge, Cambridge. I love that cold, dark, snowy little corner of the world.

When I lived in New Mexico in the mid-90's, I must have flown home for the holidays. I just don't remember it. But what a pleasure this time. The plane came in low over the farmland that borders Bradley Airport and looking down, I saw large snowy fields bordered by maples, each with a little lighted farmhouse in the center and snow on the roof. And, just because the scene was so perfect, I'm going to say there was smoke coming out of those chimneys. "Look!" I said. "it's New England!"

When we got down to the little baggage claim, we saw crowds of families greeting their arrivals. Rosy cheeks, laughter, embraces. Mom and Dad in the crowd. Sometimes life forgets itself and hands you your own Capra moment. The trick is to stop and take it in. And then remember it, when you're back in your quiet office, two weeks and 3000 miles away.

Brandy's dandy

Here's the product of this year's holiday craft binge: cranberry and pomegranate cordials. I mixed the liquor; Scott made the labels.

The recipe is simple, and comes courtesy of Molly W.: 6 cups cheap red wine, 5 cups sugar, one bag of cranberries. Simmer together until cranberries pop. Cool to room temperature, then refrigerate for a few days to let berries steep. Strain, stir in 3 cups brandy, then bottle.

For the pomegranate mix, I used white wine, a mix of POM juice and fruit, and a little less sugar. Unfortunately, I wasn't measuring as I did this, so you'll have to wing that one.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Happy holidays

Here's a photo of the croquembouche that Jessica of Feed and Supply served at her Christmas party last night. It was stunning, and nothing's more fun than pulling your very own creampuff off a sugary tower.

Jessica is the most relaxed host I know. Where I'm always racing around at the last second ("Plates! We need plates to eat on!"), Jessica comes to the door smiling and serene, even when she has a little bit of cooking to do. I always leave her house feeling contented and cared for. Isn't that a nice gift?

Here's a photo of J's tree, just to give this place some sparkle...

But enough about you

Apartment number one tagged me a couple of days ago, and I've been remiss. Here are the rules:

Post 10 weird and random facts about yourself, then at the end, list the names of 5 more suckers bloggers.

I do enjoy a good meme. Here goes:

1. I hate overhead lighting.

2. I like to cultivate a handful of quirks like #1.

3. Not that I made them up, but I'm not doing much to get over them, either.

4. I TiVo Starting Over every day, and when Scott's out of town, I watch it for hours.

5. I was in the cast of the first American musical to tour China.

6. I love Cream of Wheat.

7. If I had to choose between a 7-course wine dinner and a drive-in movie, I'd take the drive-in every time. A 4-course dinner? It's a toss-up.

8. I think all desserts should have salt.

9. Mark Bittman is my culinary role model.

10. Some day, I want to sell pies out of a reconditioned ice cream truck.

Now I'm tagging:
McPolack Inc.
Feed and Supply
cuarentayuno
Mona's Apple
and Rachael of Fresh Catering

The buck stops where?

I went to Mijita for the first time this Sunday and tried their signature quesadilla Mijita, a thick, fresh, handmade corn tortilla stuffed with Mexican cheeses, chiles, and epazote, then folded up like a calzone and cooked on the griddle. It came with a fabulous sweet-smoky-tangy tomato salsa and good guacamole. More than any dish I've had in San Francisco so far, this captured those hot earth flavors that I love in Mexican cooking. And Traci Des Jardins makes a point of sourcing local produce and using organic meats. Great view of the Bay, too. The price: About $25 for lunch for two: 2 tacos, a quesadilla, beans, and two aguas frescas. And the quesadilla was overkill, really. We were stuffed.

Then I stumbed across Mijita's reviews on Yelp.com. Reviews ran mixed-to-negative, which was surprising, but maybe there are consistency problems. What did shock me is that 14 out of 22 reviews complained about the prices. "Waaaaay overpriced," one said. "Too pricey," said another. Then the capper: "There's no reason for a taco to cost $5."

Wha?

WTF?

Don't mean to get all soap-boxy, but this stupidity is hard to take, especially from San Franciscans. I bet half these folks read Fast Food Nation and boycotted McDonald's for ethical reasons. But don't take away their cheap burritos! Mexican food isn't supposed to actually cost money. Forget what it takes to make a profit on a $3 super taco.

Everybody needs a little time away

Wow. Ten days since my last post. Sometimes you just need a break, you know? Especially when you think about food for a living. My friend Julia calls it "being fooded out."

My other excuse is that we had my sister's family here for ten days. We did all sorts of fun things, very little of which was food-related, thanks to my niece and nephew. Unless you count the cotton candy at Disneyland.

But last night I made a really nice pan-roasted monkfish on mushroom ragout. Here's the recipe:

I minced 4 cloves of garlic and 4 shallots, finely chopped 1 yellow onion, and diced 3 portabella mushroom caps and about 5 large chanterelles. Then I rendered 3 diced strips of thick-cut bacon (I like Niman Ranch) over medium heat until browned. Removed the meat, but left the fat, increased the heat to medium-high, and browned the garlic, shallots, onion, and mushrooms. Added a bay leaf and a handful of halved pear tomatoes. Seasoned with salt and pepper, Portuguese allspice and a tiny bit of regular allspice. When everything was nicely caramelized, I deglazed with a little chicken stock.

In a separate pan over medium-high heat, I seared the salt-and-pepper-sprinkled monkfish in a little olive oil, then roasted it at 425 for 7 minutes. Took it out, realized that wasn't enough time, and put it back in for another 5. Took it out, realized it still wasn't enough time, and put it back for 4 more.

The monkfish looked a little pale on the ragout, so I sprinkled it with some dried tomato powder that my mom had given me. Pretty! Unfortunately, I didn't manage to pull out the camera before we dove in. But this is a photo of the lovely Masút Pinot Noir I drank with it. This is a small biodynamic winery in Mendocino County founded by Robert Fetzer (yes, that Fetzer). If you can get your hands on a bottle (about $32), you'll be happy indeed. As my boss said when she tried it today, "This is true Pinot Noir."

The olive project: Week 2

The olives are now in their fourth day of the more concentrated brine. All in all, they've been in the mix for 12 days. Just 78 more to go!

Sorry for the poor quality of the photo. Didn't have time to use the camera, so I used my cell phone. But you can se that some are still purple, some are green, and some are turning a nice shade of brown.

Favorite food-related fainting stories #3

My apologies: This is probably the most unappetizing post I'll ever write. But the fainting stories were such a hit, and this one really is funny.

Remember the woman who faints when she eats too much?

We’ll call her Katy. Being a fainter, she has a few good stories up her sleeve. This is one of my favorites:

Katy and her husband were at a wedding in Vermont last July. It was perfect: a beautiful meadow, mountains in the background, bridesmaids in cornflower blue, and a line of tuxedoed groomsmen, including the bride’s younger brother.

So baby brother had been out drinking with the guys the night before, and had skipped breakfast that morning. Naughty brother! (That's the food connection, btw).

Suddenly, standing up for the groom began to seem like a very tall order indeed. The bride’s parents watched as he turned green and began to sway. By the time he actually hit the ground, they were ready. They raced in, propped him up, and dragged him to a chair in the front row.

Flustered, but determined, the young couple resumed their vows.

That’s when the dry heaves began.

Overwhelmed by all those tequila shots, baby brother’s system was doing its damnedest to shake off the poison. But the well was dry, so all he could do was put his head between his knees and roar.

Now the entire wedding party was beginning to look pale. So the bride’s father did what had to be done, and dragged baby brother off across the meadow. The wedding resumed, and the couple got hitched without another hitch. But the caterers couldn't help noticing that the guests were unusually restrained at the buffet line.

Family-style

First, the bad news: I didn't make it to Calle Ocho, or to Mosaico, or even to Joe's. The Murphy's Law of family visits is that no matter how much of a food nerd you are, you'll never eat at the fabulous restaurants in any town where your family lives.

Which is fine. I had my arepa, I had a tasty shrimp salad at a dockside spot in Aventura, and we had lots of cheesy fun at The Melting Pot in West Alligatorville (ok, outer Kendall). Sometimes it's nice to take a break from the la-la food scene, or even the chowhound scene, for that matter. We did share a terrific caramel apple from this spot at the Broward County Fair. But poor Broward County. It's a sorry day when your county's ag fair doesn't have enough actual agriculture left to fill a party tent. Just a bunch of sad rabbits and some agitated chickens.

Miami? Nice...

Big goings-on this week: Californiaeating is off to Miami to visit the in-laws.

Miami, land of tropical fruits, arepa carts, and t-shirt suits. I love Miami. I even love the in-laws. But since Scott does not come from a family of cooks (kitchens are more of a decorative element for them), we'll be having a catered turkey dinner by the beach. This kinda goes against all that is holy for New Englanders and food nerds, but I had my fill of Thanksgiving food this summer, so I can roll with it. And they sure know how to throw a party.

Anyone have any Miami restaurant recs? We've been to Norman's and Joe's. But we still haven't made it over to Calle Ocho in all these years. This time, I want some good Cuban and Caribbean food.

Olive me, olive you

I bought some really beautiful olives this weekend at the farmer's market (at $10 for 2 pounds. Suckaa!). But better to get soaked by the hippie farmers than by Monsanto.

Anyone have advice to share about brining them? I'm planning to go the standard salt/garlic/chilies/peppercorn/bay leaf route, but I'd love some input. Anyone ever done an oil cure?

Sicko

What are the chances? All my happy plans for this weekend have been felled by a double whammy of biking accident and stomach flu.

Yesterday, coasting down the final (steep) hill after a ride around the city, I hit the brakes too suddenly and went flying over the front of my bike. Thankfully, no major injuries, aside from a badly banged-up knee (I'm dragging that leg around the house like Igor) and some bruises.

Then, this morning I woke up to a gory case of stomach flu: fever, more aches, and...you can imagine. Scott comes in every so often to make sure I'm drinking my liquids (he's acting on prior experience), and he and our friend Grady have stepped in to do my share of the cooking for a movie screening that our neighbors are hosting tonight. The party will go on, while I comfort myself with saltines and ginger ale.

Our neighbor Meredith is a chef, so she's doing most of the work: braised beef with a pepper relish and biscuits; arugula, grapefruit, and avodaco salad; broccolini; and persimmon pudding with vanilla ice cream. Our contribution is a vegetarian butternut squash lasagne (this being San Francsico, it's the veggie alternative).

Grady is cooking as I type. What a treat it is to sit and read while someone prepares dinner in the next room. I can smell the sqash roasting, the garlic and the rosemary. It's Sunday night, my fever is going down, and the world feels very cozy, if a little achy still.

[Note: Scott says I soft-pedaled my description of the accident. Watching me fly through the air, he thought he was facing young widowerhood (that's a real word, I checked). But I come from good peasant stock. My people have been falling off horses for generations.]

Zuni tunes

Title-writing skills continue to deteriorate here at California Eating...

Last night we went back to Zuni Cafe to celebrate the arrival of G, a real food lover and former Boston compatriot. Some places, like Zuni and Chez Panisse, make me feel like a pilgrim worshiping at the sacred sites. California looms so large in your consciousness when you're living on the east coast and studying American food, and I still feel a little thrill when I try the signature dishes.

One classic, the house-cured anchovies, was everything I'd hoped it would be. Anchovies walk that fine line between the sublime and the foul, but these were fantastic. No oily-fishy residue here. Just a rich briny wallop in a tiny little tender package.

The roast chicken was also perfect, but the bread salad underneath was soggy with oil. It went way beyond unctuousness to something closer to greasy. Eh, it was probably just an off night.

I do have one other criticism, though, which remains constant with every visit: Could the staff please act just a little happy to have you there? They may as well introduce themselves with, "My name is Jeffrey, I'll be your waiter tonight, and I couldn't give two shits about it."

But I'll be back, because it's just that good...

The other CIA

Do you find that taking a couple of days out of the office almost isn't worth it because of all the work you have to make up? That's where I am right now. But I wanted to jot down some quick observations from the Worlds of Flavor conference I just attended at the CIA Greystone campus.

1) The CIA must have done some mad fund-raising because that place is swank. The stone buildings, the gardens, the platters and platters of Spanish cheeses and crab and wild mushrooms. The wine. It's so...well, it's so Napa.

2) The last week of October and first week of November may be the prettiest time of year to visit the valley. The vines changed color overnight, and the valley floor was all gold and red. And the sun was set at a lower angle, so the light never got washed out like it does in the summer. The olives were ripe, too (I took that photo on the grounds of the Krug winery).

3) I have to get to Marnee Thai as soon as possible. Chef /owner Chaiwatt Siriyan was a guest speaker (here he is giving a demo class), and his food was phenomenal. Great Thai food has that same heady perfumey quality as Indian food, but it's so bright and refreshing. I have been trying to recreate eggplant in green curry (I'll post the recipe when I get it right).

4. Every night, the conference organizers turned the huge barrell room into an international night market lined with booths featuring the foods of Spain, Mexico, India, Viet Nam, Thailand, Turkey, Persia, and North Africa. It was extraordinary (though packed, with nowhere to stand -- a recurring theme). The food was prepared by a battery of chefs who were flown in to speak and cook at the conference. I'm still craving a dessert from the Thailand booth: little bannana leaf packets stuffed with a sweet rice flour and coconut milk dough surrounding a caramelized coconut center.

5. For a man who spends his time traveling the world to eat at fancy restaurants, R.W. Apple is a pissy and impatient grump. This is the second time I've heard him speak at a conference, and the second time I've watched him bully and embarrass audience members who take too long to pose their questions or forget to say their names first.

If you get to have this kind of fun for a living, you have a moral obligation to at least be pleasant.

Napa time

What a silly title. Sorry about that.

But I am heading up to Napa today for the CIA's annual "Worlds of Flavor" conference. Here's their description:

Each year, the Worlds of Flavor International Conference & Festival transforms the Napa Valley campus into an amazing crossroads of world food and culture. More than 50 leading chefs, cooks, cookbook authors, and other culinary experts from Latin America, the Mediterranean, and Asia as well as from across the United States will head up the prestigious guest faculty at this CIA anniversary event.

Over the last 15 years, American menus–and the chefs and operators who create them–have undergone a profound, even revolutionary transformation. For most of our culinary history, we have been largely tethered to Northern European traditions–with France often representing the gold standard in fine dining–while a host of “ethnic flavors” beckoned our palates from the fringes of the industry. In the late 80s and early 90s, however, what we now call “world cuisine” started to catch the imagination of American consumers and the dining public.
First it was broader interest in regional Italian flavors, then a collective grasp of the larger Mediterranean, then regional Mexican and other Latin flavors. Next, fascination with an expanded range of Asian flavors emerged, from China and Japan to Southeast Asia and India–and finally we have now come to a “tipping point” that represents a remaking of the American culinary landscape. Once we thought it was sensible to rank the world's cuisines, but today we see a more level playing field with many cultures contributing brilliant ideas to the world table. Whereas before we thought of “American cuisine” and “American food” asbeing separate from other cuisines of the world (the latter often referred to as “ethnic foods” or “international foods”), we now increasingly think of American food as world food.

Doesn't that sound fun? These are the moments when I think, This is my job? How in the world did I finagle that?

I'm also happy to see that, with the term "world food," the good folks at the CIA have come up with an alternative to "ethnic," which is such a ridiculous bit of imperialist residue. As if some group (Brits? The French?) are the standard-bearers of humanity. No, French food is ethnic food, too. Anyway, I'm preaching to the choir.

I'll try to post any interesting news from the conference.