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Part of my regular weekend routine, is listening to The Splendid Table podcast to learn what’s new in the world of food. I was listening to the February 26th episode, when I heard an interview with New York chef, and restaurateur, Gabrielle Hamilton. As she talked about her soon to be released food-centric memoirs, Blood, Bones & Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef, I remember thinking that it sounded a lot like Kitchen Confidential and the more recent Medium Raw. Sure enough, when I bought my copy on March 1st, there, on the cover, was an endorsement by Anthony Bourdain.
The blurb of support gave me mixed feelings. On the one hand, Bourdain typically makes a point to deliver honest opinions, so his opinions will be trusted. On the other hand, when something gains popularity, numerous imitators seem to jump on the bandwagon, cashing in on the popularity of the original. I hoped Hamilton’s new book wasn’t marking the beginning of a string of Kitchen Confidential clones.
After reading and digesting this book, I’ve come to the conclusion that though there are obvious similarities in the early lives of the two writers, it’s unfair to compare Blood, Bones & Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef to previous works.
After 13 years of lamb roasting parties, gourmet fare prepared by her discriminating mother, and trips with dad to the country butcher shop, Gabrielle was suddenly left to fend for herself. In order to survive, Gabrielle took a job washing dishes at a local restaurant. Since then, she held many jobs, but always within the food industry. As the book follows her progression from dish washer, to waitress, to caterer, to summer camp chef, to eventually owning her own New York restaurant, we’re privy to her personal struggles with drug abuse, brushes with the law, attempts at higher education, and personal relationships.
Of course, her drug abuse and flirtations with larceny can be linked, at least in part, to her having been left alone at such an early age. She did what was necessary to survive, which included masking the pain until she was mature enough to deal with it. It’s interesting, at least to a former psychology major such as myself, that even though she blames her mother for her early teen abandonment, Gabrielle named her restaurant “Prune,” which was her mother’s pet name for her when she was a child.
Once Prune is open, we get an inside look at the plethora of issues she had to deal with in order to keep Prune up and running, including licensing, work schedules, staff resignations, and having to contend with unwelcome surprises being left on the eateries back stoop, among others. Meanwhile, we also see her trying to balance work with family while trying to ignite passion in a loveless marriage.
Although, the marriage itself is incredibly rocky, and arguably ill-conceived from the get go, the happiest times in her life seem to be the summers she spends in Italy with her in-laws. As she cooks alongside her mother-in-law, she finally feels like she has the mentor she had been denied for so long in her life. While it’s true that she had also named Misty, a previous lesbian partner, as being her mentor in a previous chapter, Gabrielle’s hunger to learn from, and impress, was much stronger in her relationship to the mother-in-law than it ever was with Misty.
Gabrielle successfully peppers this book with a good dose of humor to keep the work from becoming weighed down with emotional angst. One passage of dark humor, involves her trying to kill a rooster for the first time, as her father coaches her through the assault gone awry. Another tells the story of hers and her husband's futile quest for a decent 4pm meal, with kids in tow. Their increased frustration eventually leads the couple to adopt a rather make-shift, and not entirely legal, solution.
As readers take this emotional roller coaster ride, via a series of funny and touching stories, we are, of course, treated to many hunger provoking descriptions of food, which is why most people will buy this book. The simple egg-on-a-roll sandwiches she survived on in New York, the ravioli with herbs and ricotta visible through the dough, the purple beans and dense cheeses of Italy, and the salads & savory crepes of the French tavern are a mere fraction of the dishes which Gabrielle so vividly depicts with her prose. She even succeeds in making Burrata, an Italian cheese which I personally find to be bland, sound tempting and delicious.
All in all, Blood, Bones & Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef is an entertaining read filled with humor, heartbreak, and enough culinary content to satisfy any serious foodie.
I am not a professional chef, nor have I been classically trained in the field of cuisine. I AM, however, a writer and a well read food & wine enthusiast, who lives to eat and knows what he likes. In this blog, you'll read my views on cheese, wine, restaurants, cooking, food trends, and more.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Foodies & Hunger
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I'm a huge fan of No Reservations. I wait, with great anticipation, to see what mouth watering morsel Anthony Bourdain will eat next. Being used to enticing descriptions of rich cheeses, fatty pork dishes, and superbly crafted street food, I was somewhat disturbed to see rag clad children picking through the garbage dump, in Bourdain's recent Nicaragua episode, looking for food and/or something to sell.
At first, I was irked by the inclusion of such a depressing segment. I watch the show to vicariously eat sumptuous food from around the world, not to be reminded of human misery and suffering. The next day though, I was watching the news about Japan when I heard the story of a Japanese restaurant owner. He'd lost his home, but had his restaurant open the day after the tsunami. He spent the day GIVING AWAY bowls of noodles to people who had also lost their homes, knowing it would probably be the only meal those people would have that day.
Mentally, I connected the Nicaragua segment to the story of the Japanese restaurateur, and I began to question the idea of "foodyism," for lack of a better term. Some of us, indulge in food TV, gourmet treats, and meals out, while people around the world grovel and scrape for enough food to survive. I struggled with the morality of the dichotomy for days, until a local news show asked,"Is Oregon ready for 'the big one?'"
It took some time, but the idea that we could go the way of Japan tomorrow, put the matter into perspective for me. Theoretically, we could be ABSOLUTELY MORALLY SECURE by buying enough rice to survive and giving the rest of our money to feeding the hungry. We're here for, maybe, 90 years though, possibly less if disaster strikes tomorrow. We have a finite number of years to enjoy life. Part of enjoying life, at least for me, is drinking good wine, tasting great cheese, savoring an excellently prepared steak, and relishing each morsel I put into my body.
That being said, there IS a subdivision of foodyism which pretty much disgusts me. I'm referring to the sickening trend of EXTREME EATING. The idea of a single person devouring a 72 ounce steak with all the trimmings, or a cheeseburger the size of an extra-large pizza, makes me want to hurl. Seriously, I can't fathom the appeal of eating 3 days worth of food until the eater feels sick.
OK, we all do this to some extent during the winter holidays, granted. However, those meals are annual celebrations of family & friendship, and typically don't come near to the same caloric intake as extreme eating. According to The American Council On Exercise an average Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes, green salad, fruit salad, cranberry sauce, buttered roll, wine, coffee, and pumpkin pie is roughly 3000 calories.
On the flip side, the site Steak-Enthusiast.com lists 6 "Belt-Busting Steak Challenges." The smallest of the belt-busters, a 72oz of steak with trimmings, weighs in at 5,400 calories. The list peaks with a 120 oz steak challenge, delivering a whopping 9,000 calories. An annual holiday feast, delivers less than 60% of the calories found in the SMALLEST of the listed belt-busters, and doesn't begin to approach the grotesque level of gluttony which extreme eaters wallow in when engulfing the larger listed offerings.
Keep in mind, quantity doesn't necessarily translate to quality. By my way of thinking, a foodie, a genuine foodie, seeks quality over quantity. He/she enjoys sitting down to a good meal and taking their time to savor the flavors of each bite and sip, rather than pounding loads of food into their maw and keeping it down just long enough to get their name on that thar wall, before inevitably puking it back up.
A foodie seeks quality & enjoys life, fine. What about the kids in Nicaragua, the newly homeless of Japan, the displaced of Haiti, or the hungry masses right here in America? Well, we should help how & when we're able. I strongly recommend giving to an established reputable charity, such as Red Cross or Save The Children. To that end, instead of links to related products, at the bottom of this entry you'll find links to a few charities you can donate to.
Donate to the Japan Earthquake Tsunami Children in Emergency Fund via Save the Children.
Sponsor A Child Thru Save The Children.
Feed The Children - Feed an American Child.
Red Cross Multiple Causes Donation Page.
I'm a huge fan of No Reservations. I wait, with great anticipation, to see what mouth watering morsel Anthony Bourdain will eat next. Being used to enticing descriptions of rich cheeses, fatty pork dishes, and superbly crafted street food, I was somewhat disturbed to see rag clad children picking through the garbage dump, in Bourdain's recent Nicaragua episode, looking for food and/or something to sell.
At first, I was irked by the inclusion of such a depressing segment. I watch the show to vicariously eat sumptuous food from around the world, not to be reminded of human misery and suffering. The next day though, I was watching the news about Japan when I heard the story of a Japanese restaurant owner. He'd lost his home, but had his restaurant open the day after the tsunami. He spent the day GIVING AWAY bowls of noodles to people who had also lost their homes, knowing it would probably be the only meal those people would have that day.
Mentally, I connected the Nicaragua segment to the story of the Japanese restaurateur, and I began to question the idea of "foodyism," for lack of a better term. Some of us, indulge in food TV, gourmet treats, and meals out, while people around the world grovel and scrape for enough food to survive. I struggled with the morality of the dichotomy for days, until a local news show asked,"Is Oregon ready for 'the big one?'"
It took some time, but the idea that we could go the way of Japan tomorrow, put the matter into perspective for me. Theoretically, we could be ABSOLUTELY MORALLY SECURE by buying enough rice to survive and giving the rest of our money to feeding the hungry. We're here for, maybe, 90 years though, possibly less if disaster strikes tomorrow. We have a finite number of years to enjoy life. Part of enjoying life, at least for me, is drinking good wine, tasting great cheese, savoring an excellently prepared steak, and relishing each morsel I put into my body.
That being said, there IS a subdivision of foodyism which pretty much disgusts me. I'm referring to the sickening trend of EXTREME EATING. The idea of a single person devouring a 72 ounce steak with all the trimmings, or a cheeseburger the size of an extra-large pizza, makes me want to hurl. Seriously, I can't fathom the appeal of eating 3 days worth of food until the eater feels sick.
OK, we all do this to some extent during the winter holidays, granted. However, those meals are annual celebrations of family & friendship, and typically don't come near to the same caloric intake as extreme eating. According to The American Council On Exercise an average Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes, green salad, fruit salad, cranberry sauce, buttered roll, wine, coffee, and pumpkin pie is roughly 3000 calories.
On the flip side, the site Steak-Enthusiast.com lists 6 "Belt-Busting Steak Challenges." The smallest of the belt-busters, a 72oz of steak with trimmings, weighs in at 5,400 calories. The list peaks with a 120 oz steak challenge, delivering a whopping 9,000 calories. An annual holiday feast, delivers less than 60% of the calories found in the SMALLEST of the listed belt-busters, and doesn't begin to approach the grotesque level of gluttony which extreme eaters wallow in when engulfing the larger listed offerings.
Keep in mind, quantity doesn't necessarily translate to quality. By my way of thinking, a foodie, a genuine foodie, seeks quality over quantity. He/she enjoys sitting down to a good meal and taking their time to savor the flavors of each bite and sip, rather than pounding loads of food into their maw and keeping it down just long enough to get their name on that thar wall, before inevitably puking it back up.
A foodie seeks quality & enjoys life, fine. What about the kids in Nicaragua, the newly homeless of Japan, the displaced of Haiti, or the hungry masses right here in America? Well, we should help how & when we're able. I strongly recommend giving to an established reputable charity, such as Red Cross or Save The Children. To that end, instead of links to related products, at the bottom of this entry you'll find links to a few charities you can donate to.
Donate to the Japan Earthquake Tsunami Children in Emergency Fund via Save the Children.
Sponsor A Child Thru Save The Children.
Feed The Children - Feed an American Child.
Red Cross Multiple Causes Donation Page.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Senga's Mostarda: Green Tomatoe Mustard - Micro Blog
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My brother and his wife just returned from Italy, so they put together a dinner party for our family to show us their pictures. The appetizers were baguettes with Leonora cheese (goat's milk semi soft cheese with ash rind from the city of Leon, northern Spain), Prosciutto, and what I thought was a sweet tomato relish. It was actually Mostarda: Green Tomatoe Mustard by, Senga. Chunks of green tomatoes swam in a sauce of sugar, lemon, and mustard essence giving the Mostarda a nice mustardy undertone just beneath the sweet tomato flavor. The condiment provided a delicious balance to the tangy cheese and salty fat-laced Italian ham.
This particular Mostarda can be found at Pasta Works in Portland, OR. However, Amazon has these Mostardas you can also try:
My brother and his wife just returned from Italy, so they put together a dinner party for our family to show us their pictures. The appetizers were baguettes with Leonora cheese (goat's milk semi soft cheese with ash rind from the city of Leon, northern Spain), Prosciutto, and what I thought was a sweet tomato relish. It was actually Mostarda: Green Tomatoe Mustard by, Senga. Chunks of green tomatoes swam in a sauce of sugar, lemon, and mustard essence giving the Mostarda a nice mustardy undertone just beneath the sweet tomato flavor. The condiment provided a delicious balance to the tangy cheese and salty fat-laced Italian ham.
This particular Mostarda can be found at Pasta Works in Portland, OR. However, Amazon has these Mostardas you can also try:
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Irish Food Is Not Necessarily Green
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This Thursday is St. Patrick’s Day. In recognition of this Irish holiday, some food bloggers, vloggers, and celebs are coming out with recipes for green soup, green potatoes, and other green foods. Although I haven’t come across it yet, I’m sure there’s even a piece out there to teach readers/viewers how to color their own green beer. With all due respect to the traditions of Boston and Chicago, bright green food & beer have as much to do with Irish cooking, as Stuffed Crust Pizza has do with authentic Italian food.
Traditional Irish meals are generally comprised of rustic, Earth toned, dishes such as Herb Dumpling Stew, Reuben Casserole, Roasted Leg of Lamb, Irish Stew, Lamb Stew, Cottage Pie, Sausage and Potato Coddle, Dublin Coddle, Shepherd's Pie, and, of course, Corned Beef and Cabbage. Except for the cabbage, and possibly some mint jelly for the leg of lamb, there’s not much green food on the list.
As I grew up, St. Patrick’s Day meant Corned Beef and Cabbage served with steamed buttered carrots and boiled potatoes. Corned Beef, having simmered all day, in a crockpot, with its own spice packet (mustard seed, all spice, bay leaf, garlic, cracked pepper, and salt), is a savory delicious meat. When dipped in dark grainy mustard, Corned Beef is really something special. I’ve always loved it, and as my palette matured, I grew to enjoy the steamed buttered carrots and potatoes as well. However, I’ve never been able to choke down a big wet leaf of cabbage. I’ve tried adding butter, salt, and pepper to it, and I simply can’t do it.
This doesn’t mean cabbage won’t be seen along side my Corned Beef and steamed buttered carrots this week though. The trick is to combine the cabbage with the potatoes into a dish called Colcannon.
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Recipe For Colcannon
Ingredients:
1 1/2 pounds peeled and quartered russet potatoes
3 - 4 cups shredded cabbage
1/2 - 2/3 cup light cream or milk
1/4 cup melted butter
2 green onions, sliced
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
Boil potatoes in salted water until tender. Drain. Blanch cabbage in boiling salted water for 2 - 3 minutes; drain. Mash potatoes; beat in enough cream or milk to make them smooth, not soupy. Butter will lighten them more. Place pan over low heat; stir in cabbage, melted butter and onion. Beat together until well blended and hot. Taste for seasoning; add salt and/or pepper if desired.
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When made into Colcannon, the cabbage provides a pleasant second texture to the creamy mashed potatoes and rounds out an Irish meal of Corned Beef, steamed buttered carrots, soda bread with Irish butter, and the diner’s beer of choice.
After such a meal, one might expect a piece of Guinness Cake, a dish of Donegal Oatmeal Cream, or some Apple Barely Pudding (none of which happen to be green either, by the way) for dessert. This year however, I’m planning an Irish cheese course, for dessert, consisting of Dubliner and Killaree Cheddar, both made by Kerrygold in County Cork, Ireland, and Cashel Blue from County Tipperary, Ireland. While the Dubliner and Killaree are both white cheddars, the Dubliner is much stronger and sharper, making the Killaree taste mild by comparison. The Cashel Blue is a very rich and spreadable blue cheese with a nice salty bite. Served with some more soda bread and some thin slices of apple, for sweetness, the cheeses will serve as the perfect conclusion to a fabulous Irish meal.
Green food coloring not included, necessary, or desired.
This Thursday is St. Patrick’s Day. In recognition of this Irish holiday, some food bloggers, vloggers, and celebs are coming out with recipes for green soup, green potatoes, and other green foods. Although I haven’t come across it yet, I’m sure there’s even a piece out there to teach readers/viewers how to color their own green beer. With all due respect to the traditions of Boston and Chicago, bright green food & beer have as much to do with Irish cooking, as Stuffed Crust Pizza has do with authentic Italian food.
Traditional Irish meals are generally comprised of rustic, Earth toned, dishes such as Herb Dumpling Stew, Reuben Casserole, Roasted Leg of Lamb, Irish Stew, Lamb Stew, Cottage Pie, Sausage and Potato Coddle, Dublin Coddle, Shepherd's Pie, and, of course, Corned Beef and Cabbage. Except for the cabbage, and possibly some mint jelly for the leg of lamb, there’s not much green food on the list.
As I grew up, St. Patrick’s Day meant Corned Beef and Cabbage served with steamed buttered carrots and boiled potatoes. Corned Beef, having simmered all day, in a crockpot, with its own spice packet (mustard seed, all spice, bay leaf, garlic, cracked pepper, and salt), is a savory delicious meat. When dipped in dark grainy mustard, Corned Beef is really something special. I’ve always loved it, and as my palette matured, I grew to enjoy the steamed buttered carrots and potatoes as well. However, I’ve never been able to choke down a big wet leaf of cabbage. I’ve tried adding butter, salt, and pepper to it, and I simply can’t do it.
This doesn’t mean cabbage won’t be seen along side my Corned Beef and steamed buttered carrots this week though. The trick is to combine the cabbage with the potatoes into a dish called Colcannon.
-
Recipe For Colcannon
Ingredients:
1 1/2 pounds peeled and quartered russet potatoes
3 - 4 cups shredded cabbage
1/2 - 2/3 cup light cream or milk
1/4 cup melted butter
2 green onions, sliced
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
Boil potatoes in salted water until tender. Drain. Blanch cabbage in boiling salted water for 2 - 3 minutes; drain. Mash potatoes; beat in enough cream or milk to make them smooth, not soupy. Butter will lighten them more. Place pan over low heat; stir in cabbage, melted butter and onion. Beat together until well blended and hot. Taste for seasoning; add salt and/or pepper if desired.
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When made into Colcannon, the cabbage provides a pleasant second texture to the creamy mashed potatoes and rounds out an Irish meal of Corned Beef, steamed buttered carrots, soda bread with Irish butter, and the diner’s beer of choice.
After such a meal, one might expect a piece of Guinness Cake, a dish of Donegal Oatmeal Cream, or some Apple Barely Pudding (none of which happen to be green either, by the way) for dessert. This year however, I’m planning an Irish cheese course, for dessert, consisting of Dubliner and Killaree Cheddar, both made by Kerrygold in County Cork, Ireland, and Cashel Blue from County Tipperary, Ireland. While the Dubliner and Killaree are both white cheddars, the Dubliner is much stronger and sharper, making the Killaree taste mild by comparison. The Cashel Blue is a very rich and spreadable blue cheese with a nice salty bite. Served with some more soda bread and some thin slices of apple, for sweetness, the cheeses will serve as the perfect conclusion to a fabulous Irish meal.
Green food coloring not included, necessary, or desired.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Pancake Day
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This morning, one of my Facebook friends was wished a happy National Pancake Day, by one of her friends. Even though there are a plethora of “National Days” on the books, this one caught my interest, so I did some research.
Apparently, National Pancake Day is based on the, Catholic tradition, Shrove Tuesday. Historically, the local priest would shrive, or hear the faithful's confessions, to mark the beginning of the 40-day Lenten fasting period when worshipers were forbidden to consume meat, butter, eggs or milk. The problem with this period of denial was that if a family had a store of these foods, they would spoil by the time the fast ended on Easter Sunday. In order to use up the milk, butter and eggs no later than Shrove Tuesday, and prevent waste, they would mix the ingredients together and add flour to make pancakes, which they would then feast on.
The Shrove Tuesday pancake tradition lives on in Western Europe, the United States, Canada and Australia. It is most popular in the UK, where it's simply known as Pancake Day with a traditional recipe that most closely resembles the French crepe rather than the American buttermilk pancake.
Shrove, or Pancake, Tuesday, is actually next week, March 8th. However, since 2006, IHOP has declared the first Tuesday in March to be National Pancake Day. The chain celebrates the day by giving away stacks of three buttermilk pancakes in exchange for suggested donations to children's charities. I applaud IHOP's philanthropic spirit, and, had I known, I probably would have made arrangements to snag a stack tonight. For those of us who missed seeing the ad campaign, it's nice to know we can celebrate with our own stack next week.
Perhaps the easiest way to celebrate, is to begin with a basic
American Buttermilk Pancake Recipe.
Ingredients
2 cups buttermilk
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 egg
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
Directions
Mix all ingredients well in a small mixing bowl. Pour by spoonfuls onto a hot, oiled griddle. Cook until the batter is bubbly then flip the cakes over. Serve immediately with butter and favorite toppings.
Once you have this basic recipe down, you can experiment by adding sliced bananas, blueberries, chocolate chips, etc… You may also want to play with flours and grains such as buckwheat, whole wheat, oat meal, or rye. And of course, there’s virtually no limit to the varieties of syrups, fresh fruits, jellies, jams, butters, and sauces you can top your stack with.
Regardless of the combination of flavors you choose, March 8th, 2011, Pancake Day, should be a delicious day to observe. Happy eating. :-)
This morning, one of my Facebook friends was wished a happy National Pancake Day, by one of her friends. Even though there are a plethora of “National Days” on the books, this one caught my interest, so I did some research.
Apparently, National Pancake Day is based on the, Catholic tradition, Shrove Tuesday. Historically, the local priest would shrive, or hear the faithful's confessions, to mark the beginning of the 40-day Lenten fasting period when worshipers were forbidden to consume meat, butter, eggs or milk. The problem with this period of denial was that if a family had a store of these foods, they would spoil by the time the fast ended on Easter Sunday. In order to use up the milk, butter and eggs no later than Shrove Tuesday, and prevent waste, they would mix the ingredients together and add flour to make pancakes, which they would then feast on.
The Shrove Tuesday pancake tradition lives on in Western Europe, the United States, Canada and Australia. It is most popular in the UK, where it's simply known as Pancake Day with a traditional recipe that most closely resembles the French crepe rather than the American buttermilk pancake.
Shrove, or Pancake, Tuesday, is actually next week, March 8th. However, since 2006, IHOP has declared the first Tuesday in March to be National Pancake Day. The chain celebrates the day by giving away stacks of three buttermilk pancakes in exchange for suggested donations to children's charities. I applaud IHOP's philanthropic spirit, and, had I known, I probably would have made arrangements to snag a stack tonight. For those of us who missed seeing the ad campaign, it's nice to know we can celebrate with our own stack next week.
Perhaps the easiest way to celebrate, is to begin with a basic
American Buttermilk Pancake Recipe.
Ingredients
2 cups buttermilk
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 egg
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
Directions
Mix all ingredients well in a small mixing bowl. Pour by spoonfuls onto a hot, oiled griddle. Cook until the batter is bubbly then flip the cakes over. Serve immediately with butter and favorite toppings.
Once you have this basic recipe down, you can experiment by adding sliced bananas, blueberries, chocolate chips, etc… You may also want to play with flours and grains such as buckwheat, whole wheat, oat meal, or rye. And of course, there’s virtually no limit to the varieties of syrups, fresh fruits, jellies, jams, butters, and sauces you can top your stack with.
Regardless of the combination of flavors you choose, March 8th, 2011, Pancake Day, should be a delicious day to observe. Happy eating. :-)
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