Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Monday, May 19, 2008

Haiku 5/19/08

Our Ladies of Philippe’s

Ageless plastic gloves
Ferry comfort to our trays
Make safe our childhearts.

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Friday, May 16, 2008

The Friday Five: Foods you eat standing up


If your jesus ship came under fire and you were forced to walk on water to the nearest island paradise, you'd take these 5 foods you eat standing up:

NJR
1. Khanom Krok
Khanom Krok is Thai Coconut pudding. It is cooked in a special cast iron pan with little golf ball size indentations that fits over a grill. Coconut pudding is poured into the indentation and cooked until the outside is hot and crispy. The inside stays soft and sweet and gets hot enough to burn your tongue. They are sweet and coconut-y and they provide your mouth with an incredible textural experience. You can find a delicious version at the Thai food stand at the Hollywood Farmer's Market. I hear they also have them on Sundays behind the Thai Market in Thai Town. Please, if you have any love for sweet delicious food in your heart, go try them.

2. Fish Tacos
Tacos could easily fill my entire top five. I figured that since everyone would have tacos on their list (and thank you, Z, for including Suadero tacos from Taco Zone) I would add something different. Also, The Great Taco Hunt knows more about and has better descriptions of just about every taco I've ever tried. Instead, let me salute the fish taco. Delicious, light but also greasy, usually packing a pretty spicy punch. I get fish and shrimp tacos most often from The Best Tacos in Ensenada on Hillhurst. It's close to home (I can walk there!) and usually great. Still, they can't match the fish tacos at Tacos Baja Ensenada. I've only been a few times, but I still dream about the big, airy pieces of fried fishes buried under a mound of cabbage, sour cream and spicy salsa.

3. Bahn Mi
I love Bahn Mi. I love them. Vietnamese Submarine Sandwiches—what could be better? Impossibly light baguettes smeared with something reminiscent of rich butter (is it?) then filled with shredded vegetables, spicy chilies and delicious fillings that taste like they should be in a dumpling on a Dim Sun cart somewhere. It's a great walking around food and I often find excuses to grab a couple to take—well—anywhere. Also—did I mention they usually sell for less that $3? Come on! My pick would be Barbeque Pork Bahn Mi from Bahn Mi Che Cali.

4. Thai Barbeque skewers.
Maybe it's because I had the actual experience of eating street food in Thailand, maybe it's because my palate is particularly suited to the sweetness and spices often found in Thai food, or maybe it's because it's just plain delicious, but I love me some Thai Food, especially Thai Street Food . Skewers of impossibly moist meat cooked over an open fire and served to you with sticky rice. And it's really sticky! Just writing about this makes me miss the Wat Thai weekend food market so much. Damn you, neighbors!

5. Popsicles
This one kind of snuck on here. It's probably because it's getting hotter and the thought of anything that cools you down trumps the thought of things that might warm you up (see Arroz Con Leche Haiku). Trader Joe's used to make these banana popsicles that I lived on as a kid. They're no longer available, so I stick to Lime Popsicles and the frozen bananas covered in chocolate. It's really a testament to how good the bananas taste that I dive right into something that looks that much like a piece of poop on a stick. And no, I'm not just being crass here. If you don't believe me, throw one in a public pool and see what happens… Trumping all of these is the homemade variety. I can't wait to see what R makes this summer.

SIRRAH
1. Jerusalem Bagels
after winding through an impossibly long underground tunnel where Jesus was supposedly held before his crucifixion, we finally emerged onto a crowded Jerusalem street. our guide reached into a brown paper bag and pulled out what looked like four sesame bagels that had been stretched into giant ovals. he then split each one open and sprinkled a mysterious green spice inside (my first encounter with zataar.) standing there amidst the crowd of merchants, eating this ancient pairing of flour and spice remains one of my most vivid culinary memories.

2. Hollywood farmer's market pupusas
the ethnic pancake department has many fine members-- scallion pancakes, dosas, korean seafood pancakes-- each one better than the next. But there's something about the four elements of a pupusa-- salsa, crema, curtido and masa-- that, when combined, make me feel like eating anything else is a waste of time. also, they're two dollars.

3. Choripan
the national sandwich of Argentina, it consists of a grilled chorizo on crusty bread and plenty of chimichurri. I would never want to know the total number of choripan that I consumed while living in buenos aires, but I assure you it's alarming. the best ones always came from the makeshift grills at the soccer fields.

4. Suadero tacos from taco zone
never have i ever eaten a taco from taco zone, a) before midnight, b) sober, c) sitting down. and never will i ever a, b or c.

5. Miner's sourdough with cottage cheese and olive oil
R already mentioned this one but she left out the olive oil. the olive oil is key. if I had to pick just one of the five things mentioned in this list, this would be it. I've been eating it since I was a child and will continue eating it until I die. it never makes it onto a plate, or I to the table-- a paper towel and a kitchen counter is all i need.

STARDAR
1. toast
i grew up on sourdough toast, and it's still the one thing i can always eat, be it late night or early morning, slathered with plugra, cottage cheese, or fancy jam. my intentions are usually to include the toast in part of a larger schematic of foodstuffs--tea, eggs, cereal--but i invariably end up at the kitchen sink, holding the crunchy mess in my hand and stuffing face as fast as humanly possible.

2. ice cream
ice cream is always better eaten standing up--whether it's those first bites as you wait to be rung up at your favorite purveyor, or happily licking your cone walking down the street on a hot summer day. or, as i do it, standing over your sink, trying to make the sweltering heat of your apartment subside by shoveling cold sweet spoonfuls into your pie hole. i always deceive myself thinking one bite will be enough; i'm always wrong.

3. tuna
when i'm having a leisurely day at home i tend to forget about lunch until it's too late and my famished stomach comes to get me in angry fashion. those moment where i'm forced to prepare something on the double usually resort in tuna-making, and that bowl of never makes it to the table, destined to remain counter-side, contents consumed via a handful of crackers straight from the box.

4. stone fruit
the season is just around the corner, and boy, i cannot wait to stand over my sink eating a freshly washed peach, juice running down my chin and a shit-eating grin on my face.

5. you've probably caught on to the theme of my standing-up post--it's foods i eat over my kitchen sink! T & Z got to my other options (pupusas, tacos, pizza) so i only have 4. also, i realize my posts so far have been heavily tuna-centric. i just want you to know, it's been noted.

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Wednesday, May 14, 2008

It's better cold

There is a section in everyone's brain that is devoted to lists. Although its exact location cannot be known, I imagine it's somewhere in the frontal lobe near the joyful memories section. Every list you've ever formulated in your head--to do lists, top five countries to visit, names of lovers--they're all there just waiting to be called upon. One of my favorite lists, and one that I call upon almost every week, is the "foods that are better the second time around" list. I'm fond of this list because it has something for everyone, from the obvious (pizza, chow mein, thanksgiving dinner) to the less obvious (pork chops, certain pastas) to the wildly controversial (seafood, biscuits and gravy, most mexican fare.) Today I want to talk about a recent addition to my list that I'm very excited about-- so excited, in fact, that I may have to move it to the coveted number one spot: fried chicken.

I wish I could tell you exactly what happens to fried chicken, on a molecular level, after it sits in the refrigerator for a day. Here's my best guess:



Beyond that diagram I have no idea. I only know the results of the process, which are a) more manageable skin, b) more intense flavors, especially around the end pieces, and c) easier temperature to deal with. I always feel hesitant to fully invest myself in a piece of hot fried chicken; maybe it's the temperature, maybe it's the grease. But when it's cold I really feel free to roll up my sleeves and do some good work, even in the hard to reach areas.

It's gotten to the point where I actually go out of my way to eat it cold. The last time I was up at my parents we picked up some fried chicken from their favorite place and brought it home with us. I immediately threw mine in the freezer while they ate theirs hot at the table. An hour later I was sitting by myself eating cold fried chicken while everyone else watched a movie.

It was worth it.

Incidentally, the place we ordered from has great fried chicken:

Clementines
4631 Carpinteria Ave
Carpinteria, CA 93013
(805)684-5119

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Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Potato Taquitos: A Revelation!



Good news: I have a new friend, and she can cook!

The first good sign: last week she invited us to a little Cinco de Mayo fiesta. On a Monday. At 2pm. The second good sign: walking in and finding
the feast she prepared. Homemade taquitos with an array of fixins, including maybe the best guac I've ever had, chipotle salsa, and arroz verde. The third good sign: when I offered to make micheladas, she and her brother practically threw their arms around me, asking how the hell I knew about those too. A match made in heaven!

The most amazing part of all this is that she's a vegetarian. Meaning so were the taquitos. Oh yes: potato taquitos. Do not let the humble tuber fool you. This thing was rich enough to rival any stewed pig or cow, and texturally a wonderment, the crisp outer edges of tortilla (oh yeah, she hand-makes those too--I don't know whether to laugh or cry about that) against the smooth, creamy, cumin-scented potato. Daubed with some guac and a little smoky chipotle salsa, it was downright perfect, and certainly the best mexican meal I've had since my last foray to the Zone.

A spring day off doesn't get any better than this: sitting on a folding chair, michelada in hand, watching my new friend carefully pin down each taquito in the boiling oil and gabbing about life while the breeze waves the palms and echo park lake shimmers out the window.

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Haiku 5/12/08



Arroz Con Leche from El Gran Burrito


It’s cold for LA.

It’s almost jacket weather.

You know what that means…




Editors note...

Arroz con Leche is basically rice pudding. In its El Gran Burrito variety it’s like hot sweet Horchata with chunks of rice in it. Like Champurrado without the chocolate. A cinnamon-y, rice-y treat that should not be missed on any day during which warming your stomach is a primary, secondary or one-hundridary priority.


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Friday, May 9, 2008

The Friday Five: Childhood Eats


If your stupid boat exploded and you had to swim to a desert island, you'd take
these 5 foods from childhood:

SIRRAH
1. Stone soup
As a product of Waldorf education I thought everyone placed a giant stone in their vegetable soup while it cooked-- it's how I imagine some Greek children must feel about throwing plates on the floor. However, like most things in waldorf education, stone soup was the exception and not the rule. The soup itself was nothing special-- a basic vegetable broth with carrots, celery and potatoes-- but the stone transformed it into something truly mythical, and being mythical was pretty much my favorite thing to do in kindergarden.

2. Salty Chicken
This little gem was one of Fina's creations, my Filipino housekeeper who played a huge role in my early years. Like many of Fina's recipes, this one was shrouded in mystery. What we do know? Crispy skin, onions, white wine and a lot of lemon. The rest will go to the grave with her.

3. BLT's
My mom and I were firm believers in the after school, pre-dinner snack, especially if there was a soccer practice stuck in between. While the version I now make is more involved, I still have a lot of love for the days of toasted sourdough and iceberg lettuce. Sometimes you just have to keep it simple.

4. 7-11 slurpees
Am I proud of it? No. But like it or not slurpees were big business for me from age 6 to 18. Also, try and take my coke slurpee away from me after 15 days on the desert island and you'll see a man go truly crazy. Like Stevie Nicks, alternating between laughing and weeping crazy.

5. Burger king chicken sandwich
When I wasn't playing with gnomes or collecting sticks, I was eating a burger king chicken sandwich. They used to cut them in half and then wrap each half individually. You really did feel like a king.

STARDAR
1. tuna fish
my mom is a master of tuna. it would appear on weekends, when a million friends were over, and we'd just gotten out of the pool: tuna with loads of celery, scallions, and dill, wheat thins to scoop it up in, and a dish of pickles and carrots. She was a renegade tuna-maker; sometimes there would be pickle relish in there, or diced green olives, sometimes parsley or basil. whatever was in the fridge that could be used went in to the big bowl. my number one pick for comfort, ease, and satisfaction.

2. warm milk and honey
mom used to make this for us before bed. the ultimate comfort drink.

3. cream cheese and olive sandwiches
there was a time when i was a very picky eater--no salad, no fish, no tomatoes, no condiments of any kind. my mom, at her wits end to come up with sandwiches for my lunch, tried pretty much everything. there was a long cream cheese and olive phase right before i moved on to salami and lettuce (no tomato! no mayo!). don't make fun of it til you've tried it.

4. filipino beef
fina, our housekeeper, was an amazing cook when left to her own devices; meddle with her in any way, or try and discover the recipe, and the food immediately went downhill. my memory of the original filipino beef is hazy, the taste having changed quite a bit over the years she made it, but distinct: thin strips of beef marinated in garlic, vinegar, lemon, ginger, onion, and some other secret spices, then sauteed quickly. sounds basic, but the taste was impossibly rich and tangy, an explosion of flavor that tasted like nothing i'd ever eaten before. i would do physical harm to someone to taste that original filipino beef again.

5.chicken soup
another alchemical creation of my mother's and eventually, of fina's. my mother's chicken soup: lemony, full of falling-apart chicken flavored with parsley, celery leaves, and carrots. fina's: sub in cilantro for parsley, put about 10 times as much lemon, and add some corn to thicken. both: amazing.

NJR
1. Clara's Black Beans.
For certain children of driven, successful parents, most of their childhood comforts are more closely associated with a caregiver than a parent. Clara, who basically raised my sister and me, comes from Guatemala, calls me her Corazon, and makes some mean refried beans. I have such fond memories of her sitting at the kitchen table, letting me help her pick the stones out of the pile of black beans on the table. Cold black beans on a hot piece of sourdough toast. Nothing more comforting than that.

2. Cream of Vegetable Soup.
Broccoli. Potatoes. Whatever. Delicious and so comforting. Clara usually made this too, by the way.

3. Anything My Grandmother Made.
I don't care if this is breaking the rules. My grandmother lived with us from about the age of 5 until she died when I was 8. She ran a cafeteria at a High School in Louisville, KY. By the time she moved in with us she could barely move her substantial frame because of her arthritis, but she would still assume a seat on the stool by the stove and work away at fried chicken, mashed potatoes, pork chops and milk gravy. And there would be lemon ice box pie in the freezer. She collected all of her recipes in a small book written in distinguished cursive, but she often left out one or two of the ingredients so nothing cooked from it ever tastes quite like it did when she made it. It would be a disservice to try to choose any one dish that she made, so for her, I bend the rules.

4. Plain yogurt with honey in it.
Maybe the most delicious but healthy-ish snack ever. Something about the tang of the yogurt really brings out the complexity and earthiness of good honey. Plus, the cold yogurt will harden strands of the honey to create a special textural treat-- a soft, round glob of warm honey, come on!

5. Victor's Chicken Noodle Soup
Anytime I am sick; or think I might be getting sick; or know someone who's sick; or just need to feel comforted like a kid, I get Chicken Noodle Soup from Victor's. I have yet to have a better version of anything like the classic Jewish style anywhere in the city. It's salty, fatty, packed with carrots and celery and just plain delicious. My family has been going to Victor's since it opened almost two decades ago. There may only be a few great things on the huge menu, but the Chicken Noodle Soup is one of them.

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Thursday, May 8, 2008

Best. Sighting. Ever.


We all had grand plans to try the new Father's Office on Friday (and yes, this included fortifying ourselves with snacks and courage against the inevitable wait). But Z went AWOL and left us without a good dinner option (no way we could risk it a man down). R and I decided to make an impulsive and financially unwise decision, one that others have made before and will make again. It starts with an M and ends with an ozzarella bar. I think you know what I'm talking about...

The meal, for the record, was absolutely delicious. I insisted on getting the Crispy Pigs Trotter with cicoria & mustard again because, well, they're pig trotters. They were as I remembered-- comforting, tasting slightly of fall, and one of those cases where knowing what you're eating really improves instead of diminishes the experience. Talk about eating the entire animal... That said, the real hits of the evening came from the focused, powerful hands of our city’s Patron Saint of All Thing Culinary. Nancy. A thousand times Nancy.

Burrata with grilled asparagus, brown butter, guanciale & Sicilian almonds. Complex, playful, sweet, but not overly rich. A joy for the mouth-- be it subtle tasting device or childhood pie hole. Equally as delicious was the Burricotti with braised artichokes, pine nuts, currants & mint pesto. Summery, sweet (in an entirely different way), beautifully textured. At best, Mozza takes the best version of simple, familiar ingredients and puts them together in a way that tastes, at the same time, like something you feel you should have thought of before and also something more layered and exciting than you ever would have thought possible. It's that perfect combination of tradition and insight.

Halfway through the delectable Mozzarella Bar offerings, I remembered that I desperately had to pee, and was headed to the bathroom before the food arrived. Since my fear of peeing my pants (yes-- I get that distracted by food) had already made me feel like a first grader, the giant hulking man with braided hair who emerged just as I was about to enter it scared the crap out of me. A boy who has to pee does not a giant appreciate. I suppose I was vaguely comforted by the fact that he looked sort of familiar. I decided that he must be one of the bodyguards from 30 Rock.

Luckily, R had left a little of the cheesy wonders for me when I got back, and I promptly forgot about my run-in with the giant. It was not until halfway through the pastas (Tagliatelle with oxtail ragu and Fresh Ricotta & Egg Raviolo with browned butter—delicious!) that I realized what had eluded me by the bathroom. First, I saw the same braided giant. And I’m not joking here—he was really a giant. AND THEN—there was another giant behind him! And this one definitely wasn’t on 30 Rock. And then-- behind him— was the homeless looking, even gianter giant who gave it all away-- Pau Gasol!

Now, I’m the first to admit that I’m a fair-weather basketball fan. I loosely follow the season and only start to really watch Lakers’ games when the playoffs begin. Even so, when the Lakers have recently made a trade that could make them elite for the first time since they lost the giant of all giants; and they’ve just swept the first round of the playoffs; and you’re eating Mozza pasta; and it’s the Lakers-- meaning all of the Lakers! Together! It’s pretty damn exciting.

I love LA. I am a firm believer that when people dis the city it’s because they have too narrow view of it. I think to myself, “if you know my LA, you wouldn’t feel that way.” But how is it possible that I was the only one who started clapping when THE LAKERS came out of the back room? There are some moments when, no matter how nice the restaurant, no matter how important the pitch you’re making, no matter how nice your thong-ie slippers, you hoot and holler like anyone else would. At best, sports bring a city together. They give people a chance to feel passion, pride, and loss in a way they would not otherwise feel safe to feel them. Our premier team just emerged from the secret Warner’s room wedged between the two Mozzas after just sweeping the first round of the play-offs. You clap. Or at least, I clap. Only me. At Mozza.

So there we were, half-way through our meal, watching the Lakers lumber out of Mozza. Everyone was there except Kobe. “That’s the trouble with superstars,” I thought to myself. I turned back to R to comment on the fact and then realized that not only was Kobe there, he was standing right behind us. He was, I think, settling the bill (MVP! MVP!). I am proud to say that, as he walked by, I shouted like a little girl “Good luck, Kobe! You’re really great!” Was it insightful? No. Was it reserved and thoughtful and considerate of all the good things and bad things in this man’s past? No. But goddamnit it was fun. R and I both grinned like idiots for the rest of the dinner.

I work in movies. I grew up around actors and see them on a regular basis. I hate the idea of going to a place with worse food and more famous people. But at the end of the day, it’s exciting to have a really great celebrity sighting. It actually does heighten the experience. Something special has happened, and when a meal itself is special, forget about it! My friend later informed me that the whole team had gotten together to watch the final Jazz/Rockets game and see who they would face in the next round of the play-offs. How cool is it that they did it at Mozza? Go Lakers! Go LA! But most of all, go Nancy!

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Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Taco Truck Nite


Much has been written about Los Angeles' embattled taco trucks, so I'll keep this brief and add only one note to the chorus: being a homegrown Angeleno who has lived in New York and been friends with many a New Yorker, "better mexican food" has always been the cornerstone of my argument for LA's ultimate superiority. Yes, New York does a lot of things right--pizza, bagels, better iterations of certain ethnic dishes--but at 4 in the morning, when I've tossed a few back and my benighted stomach is crying out for a greasy salve to ease tomorrow's pain, there's nowhere on earth I'd rather be than waiting on line at Taco Zone, debating whether to get 2 or 3 tacos, feverishly hoping that my pronunciation of "mulita" will be good enough for the owner to understand. Take these beloved specimens away and the only argument I can make is for superior weather. And you can't eat the weather.

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Two can play at this game







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Monday, May 5, 2008

Haiku 5/5/08


We Try Andiamo While Watching The Mets/Philly’s Game


Strike one: really late.

Strike two: tastes like a Co-op.

Strike three: Brick in tum.

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Thursday, May 1, 2008

Discovery!

It's probably the greatest mystery of our time: Nancy Silverton, Anthony Bourdain, that critic from Ratatouille-- how are they not giant tubs of people? While I have my suspicions about Bourdain, today I solved a piece of the Silverton puzzle. I saw her at 7:30 am in full workout gear, busting ass down van ness in hancock park with a five pounder in each of her magic hands. If only the weights were actually delicate mounds of ricotta, we could have played my favorite game: Mozzarella Bar.

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Paean: O Great Chemex


My parents have this crazy hi-tech coffee pot that makes your coffee BEFORE YOU GET UP. They've had it for years; it is their smoother-over of mornings, a trusty butler to be relied upon day in and day out. But all things must pass, and when they upgraded to the 12-cup model (which is a behemoth and not for the small-kitchened) my mom insisted that, being the only coffee-drinking child, I should inherit the old guy.

Imagine her surprise when she came to visit, only to find the beloved appliance unceremoniously wedged under my counter. Which is when I offered her, by way of explanation, a cup of my Chemex. Now I know the Chemex is not for all and sundry. It cannot be programmed; it doesn't even plug in. It's just a glass jar that could pass for a beaker from high school chemistry class, in which you place a rather ill-fitting square filter. But to me, it is perfection. Not only does it brew a fantastic cup of coffee--rich, smooth, all bitterness leeched out via some magic of physics--it represents a way of doing things that my stubborn heart clings to in this gadget-crazed age.

This is coffee you gotta work for: water must be measured and boiled, filters must be soaked, coffee mounded just so. The hot water (not boiling! just under a boil please!) is then poured over the grounds while you watch the alchemized liquid seep out beneath, pooling at the bottom of the beaker. The wait that accompanies the slow pour--for it must be slow, so slow, so as not to flood the grounds--is agonizingly akin to standing on a long line for the bathroom. But what pleasures await the patient coffee-maker! An impossibly clean brew, as if freshly bathed in healing waters! Nothing sour or distasteful, no burn or tang to fret the tongue. This is a drink to be lingered over. And the leftovers make a refreshing glass of iced coffee of a warm spring day...

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Haiku 5/1/08



101 Noodle Express


Z loves his Beef Roll

I love Cold Eggplant Noodles

Either way, Passion!

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