mary eats

Today I had the rare opportunity to break down a cow. That’s right a cow. You might be asking yourself, “but Mary, how? I’ve seen your apartment. There isn’t room for a cow in there,” or “my gosh, I bet that must have cost a pretty penny, did you get it at the farmer’s market?”

Some fellow students, instructors and I trekked up to Bow, Washington (about an hour and a half’s drive from Seattle) at 7:15 this morning to the Island Grown Farmers Cooperative processing plant to tour the Lopez Island Community Trust’s mobile USDA approved meat processing unit, and break down a cow.

I’m not training to be a butcher, though I wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to intern with Dario Cecchini the Tuscan butcher with whom Armandino Batali and Bill Buford studied under. But meat fabrication is fascinating. So much that I find when I’m looking at domesticated animals I often think about how to break them down into primal and sub-primal cuts. Creepy, I know, but I promise I won’t be coming after anyone’s house hold pets soon.

At school we breakdown chickens like pros, rabbits and legs of lambs, but never have we had the opportunity to break down a whole cow. Every child’s dream! OK not really, but the chance to see where my favorite cuts of meat were from, and trim them up nice and neat was too good to pass up.

Back to Lopez Island. Six years ago the Island co-op got was the recipient of a grant to build a mobile unit that could go around to small farms and dress (clean out the blood and guts) live stock, and break it down so that the farmer could sell his/her meat at farmer’s markets. After three years the unit had moved across the sound to its current location in Bow, running at full capacity, bringing the dressed livestock back to their processing plant to be cut to the farmer’s specifics, anything from cubed or ground beef to chops, short ribs, just about any darn cut you can think of (including one new one I learned today, the peitie shoulder tender).

After a brief tour of the plant and unit we separated into two smaller groups and were put to work, first breaking down the lower cut. We removed the flank, then the top and bottom round, then the sirloin. Then at the table we broke down the sub primals even further, separating the flank steak, the tenderloin, the top round, bottom round, hanger, the sirloin, porterhouse, London broil. After that we moved on to the upper half, the ribs, chuck, brisket, and skirt steak. After a leisurely lunch break, it was round two, starting all over again with the primal cuts.

Butchering your own meat is incredibly satisfying. Following the seams of fat, using my knife to separate where there is tension, trimming off fat, glands, and silver skin I feel consumed by a knowledge that both ancient and instinctive. This isn’t in anyway glamorous work. When an internship was mentioned I didn’t even think of taking it, but I am so thankful for the people who do it, in awe of their lore, and knife work. It is a dying art, and with the mass processing plant scares, supporting small-scale butchers appears the way to go.

While studying tonight for my midterm, I was listening to The Splendid Table when Lynn brought up a subject very close to my heart: The cookbook library. Having just moved from a house with large built in bookshelves to a one hundred year old apartment with uneven floors and thick molding that proves impossible for standalone bookshelves, suddenly, my enormous cookbook and culinary reference library became more of a hassle than an asset.

One wee section of my collection

Lynn’s guest, Francine Maroukian, columnist for Esquire magazine and author, talks about paring down her culinary library and rebuilding her library around a new program.

First she starts with the heartbeat. For her it’s Julia. And though she admits not cooking from Mastering the Art one or two, it is her go to resource for everything. On either side of Julia she added other books that were at the heart of her culinary repertoire.

My Kitchen heartbeat includes Madhur Jaffrey’s World Vegetarian, Didi Emmon’s Vegetarian Planet, Eating Korean, and Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. Now that I have moved into the meat-eating world I’m assuming that a few animal protein based cookbooks will work their way into my heart.

Next Francine suggests defining your interest. For her, a former caterer, it’s entertaining. For me its Asian and world cooking. In addition to every lonely planet world food series book, I’ve also started collecting Time Life Flavors of the World Series. I love this snap shot of life in the later 60’s, and anthropological approach to cuisines around the globe. I also try to pick up a cookbook while on holiday. I wasn’t able to find any in Cambodia, but I’ve returned from my travels with a Thai cookbook, a Goan cookbook, Singaporean, South African, Hong Kong; now that I think of it I didn’t get one in Italy. Though I most likely won’t cook out of them, they beat out a snow globe for nostalgia.

Step three, Francine bulks up on references books she says “from experts that are made up of more than just resources. People in the field.” Specifically she is speaking of the Stalwart, the cheese Primer author Steve Jenkins. My reference collection is built around the Oxford Companion to Food and Wine, The Professional Chef CIA, Schott’s Food and Drink Miscellany, A Dictionary of Japanese Food, Lets Eat Korean Food, Korean Food Guide, and French Cheeses. I also consider the Lonely Planet food books and Time Life series reference.

Finally, step 4, Inspiration/Aspiration. Here Francine touts books that inspire her or she knows she’ll be a better person for cooking from them. For her, it’s Jamie Oliver, because his personality is so clearly stated in his books, or The Balthazar cookbook from the New York restaurant of the same name (a book I am currently working out of in class and can attest to its inspirational quality)

My inspiration comes from both the old and the new (another piece of advice from Francine is to consider older cookbooks that have stood the test of time). The new Morimoto and the Aquavit cookbooks are so beautiful to peruse they immediately make me want to recreate their dishes. More inspriation; The New American Chef, The Revolutionary Chinese Cookbook, The Lee Brother’s Southern Cookbook, Laurel’s Kitchen, River Road Recipes (from the Junior League of Baton Rouge) and A Cooks Tour of Shreveport.

To see more books I’m considering adding to my library (space and Kevin permitting) have a peek at my wish list.
And you?

Frank Bruni did it, Jonathan Kauffman did it, now, it’s my turn. A countdown of the culinary kind, a remembrance of meals past. Most of what shows up on my list are firsts for me. Rillettes, caviar, hamachi; culinary treats I’d never tried before, and oddly, pork.
My top meals/plates of 2007.

1. Momofuku Noodle Bar, New York

On a quick trip to New York last month for my dearest and oldest friend’s 30th birthday Momofuku was the prime focus. For her birthday dinner we, and a couple other friends dined at Momofuku saam and it was amazing, but my favorite of the two is the noodle bar, where Erin and I fed our souls on a cold cold New York day. The rich pork-y broth was chock full of shredded pork, kimchi, and sliced ddok. Fine carrot strings nested upon the top gave the dish a classy presentation, but once pushed into the soup it tasted everything jjigae should but more refined. Just writing about it leaves my stomach and taste buds searching for a cheap NYC ticket on Orbitz.

2. Christmas Eve set menu at Tilth, Seattle

Christmas Eve dinners of my past were always a grand affair. Mother would let Jamie and I choose the menu (usually stuffed shells and King Crab Legs), we would get dressed up, and drink sparkling apple cider out of champagne flutes. Kevin also had a strong Christmas eve tradition with his family of a stone soup, if you will. This year we went out on a limb and celebrated out. Kevin made the reservations, a set menu at Tilth, celebrating the Spot Prawn. The procession, Spot Prawn Bisque with fennel, shallot, fines herbs, and spot prawn row was served table side and a contender for favorite course, Arugula Salad with truffle vinaigrette, toasted hazelnuts and Parmesan shavings, Duck Leg Confit with spot prawn salpicon, napa cabbage charcuit and potato puree, and finally Theo’s Chocolate Pot de Creme with cardamom chantilly and smoked fleur de sel

3. Columbia Wine Makers Dinner, Meritage, Redmond

My parents helped Kevin and I celebrate our anniversary early with a wine maker’s dinner at Meritage in the Redmond Marriot. The meal was fantastic and you can read the whole description here, but my favorite was the first course, a piece of Hamachi sashimi, in a vanilla butter with micro greens and osetra caviar. It was my first time tasting many components of the dish, the micro greens, the hamachi (which has the texture of butter) and the osetra.

4. Korea meets France, my first meal at Coupage, Seattle

When I read both reviews of Coupage in the Times and PI, I knew I had to go, Korean food with a French twist. With all the fancy pants food I ate in Korea never once did I see an upscale western twist on Korean food. My main course, short ribs were succulent and fork tender the star of the show was a wild mushroom bibimbap. Flash sauteed shiitakes, oyster and cremini mushrooms rested atop shredded napa cabbage tossed in a truffle vinaigrette finally seated on a bed of perfectly cooked short grain rice. A shot of spicy chili paste raced out from the side, while half Quail’s eggs crowned the plate off. It was dramatic and tasty, and most importantly gave me direction in my own style of cooking. For months after arriving back in the states I knew I wanted to recreate Korean meals at home but in a more visually appealing and refined way. Thanks Coupage.

5. Anniversary dinner at Crush, Seattle

Though Kevin and I celebrated our five years of marital bliss in Walla Walla, Kevin’s dad, mom, and grandmother helped us celebrate at Crush a couple of weeks later. I remember deciding it would be a good idea to order a couple of small plates, goat cheese hazelnut tart topped with arugula tossed in a truffle vinaigrette and squash ravioli, but hands down Kevin’s dish was the winner. A trio of pork, and a hallmark of the Crush menu, The Three Little Pigs with Baby Beans & Cider Sauce Tenderloin, Crepinette of Shank, Laquered Belly. Pork Belly. Is there anything better?

But the piece de resistance was the after dinner chocolates, with a special message for Kev and me. Can I get a “Awwwwwwwww.”?

6. Carnitas at a taco stand in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico

After a week of overpriced and oversized tourist food at Cabo stallwarts such as Edith’s and Mi Casa, Kevin finally took me to a little taco stand where we feasted on carnitas until our bellies were swollen and lips stained red from the picante sauce. They were my first and I will never forget them.

7. Deer meat carpaccio at Peder Oxe in Copenhagen, Denmark

When you only have 14 hours in which to explore a city (and 10 of those being the hours in which most things are closed) you can’t be too choosy about where to go and what to see. Best to chose one area and hit the ground running. Thus was our experience in Copenhagen which landed us at the doorstep of Peder Oxe, a Danish/Global/Organic restaurant. Normally I wouldn’t order a plate of raw meat for dinner, blame it on the jet lag or that I had never tried deer meat before, but I went for it and was pleasantly surprised to find a loin of dear meet cooked medium rare and sliced into 1/2 inch rounds topped with juicy cow berries, dill, parsley, toasted walnuts and olive oil. Hurray for deer.
8. Dinner at Saffron, Walla Walla

Kevin and I marked our Anniversary (are you sensing a theme here?) with a weekend in Walla Walla which I have not posted about yet (saving it for a slow February I guess). Walla Walla is Washington’s darling of wine regions and is home of the state’s best, Cayuese, Leonitti, Buty, a’Maurice, just to name a few coming outta of here. For the longest time, 26Brix was the head honcho, but newcomer Saffron Mediterranean Kitchen has stolen the show. We chose a shower of small dishes, but by far my favorite was the beef cheeks, deliciously fork tender meat, similar to short ribs. In this picture you’ll see Kevin’s favorite, the calamari.

9. Pork Rillettes, Lark, Seattle

I had big hopes for my dinner at Lark, but was disappointed to say that it didn’t live up to my expectations. Our dinner was good and nice, but nothing left me raving or craving to go back, with the exceptions of the pork rilletes. Plain, honest, and reaping with pork flavor they were creamy smooth and best eaten on their own, sans bread or cracker.

10. My After Christmas Dinner on December 27, Bellevue
Because the grandiose Christmas and Christmas Eve dinners of my past I dearly loved are now gone I decided to have my own fancy pants dinner in the style of my mother. Through she made us clean the house top to bottom along with her and my father, wash our hands and change our clothes (no jeans and tshirts), I loved the luxurious feel of the tablescape, dining wear and my absolute favorites the crackers.

I set the table for six the night before, decorating with cedar and holly branches. My plates were from last year’s Tord for Target collection. The menu: Shaved fennel, blood orange, and pomegranate salad with butter leaf lettuce and peccorino in a meyer lemon dressing. Homemade crab tortellini with a scallion poppy seed butter. Roasted pork loin with apples, caramelized onion and rosemary sauce. And finally homemade dense gingerbread cake with eggnog creme anglise and candied cranberries. For all the money and time spent on the meal it was worth it all. Entertaining for friends in the style of my family was both a gift to myself and others.

Top Dinks 2007

1. Cayuse, Vigonier

Drank at Lark with our so so dinner. Our waitress was tres impressed with our B.Y.O.W. as were we (thanks mom and dad-PS Lark has a very low corkage fee!)
2. White Port and Tonic

A drink we had at the Bellevue Whole Foods Spanish wine tasting. Very refreshing and not too expensive. White port runs about 12-14 bucks a bottle.

3. Barrel tastings at Beaux Feilds, Willamette Valley Oregon

This was the first barrel tasting I had ever participated in and what a difference a few years in oak make. My first couple glasses were terrible, highly tannic and acidic, I nearly spat them out at the server rather than in the spitton. Finally I asked someone what I should be looking for in these young wines. Balance.

4. a’Maurice Voigoier,

Drank with our meal at Saffron, it was citrus-y with tropical hints of papaya and pineapple. Amazing.

5. Yellow Hawk, Sangiovese

On our first night in Walla Walla we hit up the bar at 26Brix, I had a cocktail (a very faux pas thing to do according to the guy next to me) but Kevin had a glass of what has become our favorite everyday drinker (not that we can really afford that). Smooth and balanced it goes with near everything from a large Pagliacci Brooklyn pizza to herb roasted chicken.

6. Tamarak Cellers

Out at the wine makers ghetto in Walla Walla (the old militaty airport compound converted into wine maker studios) we first tried these pack a punch wines. Plus I got to pretend to crush crapes ala Lucy and Ethel.

7. Japanese Plum Wine and Soda with a twist of lime

Kevin’s work mate Carolyn introduced us to this easy summer cocktail. Mix one part Japanese plum wine and one part soda water. A new twist on the summer sundowner.

8. Port, Wineglass Wineries, Yakima Valley

The Tasting Room at Pike’s market is where Kevin and I first tried this port. Usually we both find port cloying and too sweet, but this wine, rich with bing cherry and chocolate is how to settle down with a wet Washington winter.

9. Taru Sake

Kevin and I love Umi Sake House down in Belltown. Sake novices, the waitress pointed us toward this medium body hibuscus perfumed sake (available at Uwajimaya for about 14 bucks).

10. Columbia 1992 Cabernet Sauvignon, Columbia Valley

Saving the best for last, my parents unearthed two bottles of this 15 year old wine from the garage earlier this year and gave one bottle to Kevin and I. I have never aged wine, in fact it, wasn’t until this year that I even bought bottles that could be aged. Most of what we drink is ready now, but this Cabernet Sauvignon was awe inspiring, the way the wine transcended stages from sweet to a savory mineral finish. It gave us both hope and inspiration for laying down a couple bottles, one, a Leonetti merlot and the other, a Beaux Frers Pinot Noir.

What are your tops for the year?

Happy New Year!

Part 2.

After our 14 hours in Denmark Kevin boarded an SAS flight Rome Bound. It was my second trip to Italy, and I am still on the fence with this culinary great. My first trip, to Florence a couple summers ago is marked with endelss cups of gelato and bowls of salad to battle the summer heat. I never had that life changing meal that so many speak of when they return from Italy. No eye closing, “mmmmmmm” inducing, swirling thoughts of pleasure. Instead I found Tuscan food heavy, bland, and for the love of god, please put some salt in your bread people! That whole Medici salt tax business ended eons ago!

This trip to the Almafi coast gave me hope for a better run with Italian food, after all we’d be heading to the home of pizza.

View of the coast from our villa’s kitchen balcony

in town

restaurant sign

cafe menu

almafi lemons: the most wonderful lemons around. The size of an oblong grapefruit with the perfume of lemon so pure you’d swear it was artificial.

gardens in Revello

me, fish shopping for Nate and Jen’s wedding meal

window shopping for sweets

kevin and his pizza

me and gnocci

The main purpose of the trip was to cook the reception meal for Kevin’s cousin’s wedding so we didn’t get too much sight seeing in. Food was on the brain for the duration of the trip, if it wasn’t what to cook for dinner it was navigating my way through a 4 course four hour Italian dinner. With an early departure time from Rome, kevin and I hightailed it outta Almafi and up to Rome for a day of eating before our flight home.

Food shop in Rome where Kev and I indulged in oil cured tuna and caper stuffed sweet peppers.

the river at dusk

more food shops in Rome

pre-dinner snack. Thick bread pizza.

world’s biggest forcemeat?

After a week of pasta and pizza Kevin and I were ready for something different and got it with Africa, what appears to be one of two ethnic restaurants in Rome (the other a Chinese restaurant near our hostel). The place was packed, the sidewalk outside was packed, and for good reason. Savory stews atop sour Ehtopian bread, injera, made from the grain tef.

A last stop before our train to the airport

a perfect cappuccino

I’m sad to report that I never got the Italian meal of my dreams. Most everything tasted as I remembered, I did however pick up a few culinary treasures to schlepp back home (namely a lemon infused olive oil from Sorrento).

Perhaps those who report of culinary greatness are traveling with locals, out side of the city center, or college students on a break from fast food and dorm room ramen. I’ve often said that Asia is my Europe, referring to my attachment, awe and beguilement that varied continent bestows on me. It is possible that I will never fall in love with Italy the way I’ve fallen for Japan. Nonetheless, I’m sure the challenge will present itself again, at some point, me and Italy, for that perfect Italian meal.

A couple of posts ago I was on the Almafi coast for the wedding of Kevin’s cousin and his lovely bride. Our orbitz cheap ticket demanded a 14 hour layover in Copenhagen, and afforded Kevin and I a chance to shop and eat our way around the city’s Stroget area.

Plane food: I can’t resist. We flew SAS and I have to say, not the most pleasent flying experience in terms of customer service.

After a 12 hour flight over the north pole what better to revive yourself than some vending machine coffee. Not quite as inexpensive and the kiosks in Seoul’s subways, but just as tasty.

Reason number one Kevin loves Copenhagen. Gummy candy. Though I love my husband dearly, he has an unhealthy relationship with gelatin based candies. He has found his people in Denmark. Gummy candy is everywear, in the subway, in the airport, in the hotel minibar. Dang ya’ll!

Speaking of minibar, here’s ours. Another photo habit I can’t appear to break. The minibar photo.

Danish style or just kooky?

Too adorable not to share

Shopping in Storget

Candied Almonds, 25Kroner or 5 bucks. Delish.

Kevin eventually let me have a few.

Hats

Glogg. Ordering this proved a bit of an Albott and Costello act.

Me: Gl-agg please
Waitress: Glu-gg?
Me: Uh, gl-agg?
Waitress: Ja, gl-ugg
Me: Um, the wine drink, hot
Waitress: ja, gl-ugg
Me: Gl-ugg?
Waitress: Ja, g-l-u-g-g
Me: Ah, glugg

Traditional glogg accompaniments: Æbleskiver or Danish doughnuts. Served with powdered sugar and jam.

Copenhagen’s all organic restaurant

My deer meat carpaccio with berries, green onion, dill, parsley, and toasted walnuts frizzled with olive oil. AMAZING!

Kevin’s langoustines drenched in butter and garlic. Good, but mine was waaaaaaaay better.

Complimentary hotel buffet. Europeans know how to do it. What is with the American continental breakfasts? Who just wants a muffin and coffee. Not I. Meat, eggs, cheese, and cucumbers please!

Next post: Almafi

Right before leaving for our couisin’s wedding in Italy (seriously like 3 hours before) I was notified by a crisp white 8×11 piece of paper that I had won our school’s food writing scholarship.

I applied for this scholarship last year, and thought I had it in the bag. Um hello! Blogger (with a spelling problem), paid restaurant critic, book contributer. And as you can guess I did not win. This year I dug a little deeper, pulled out the “hearts and flowers” (not the way I like to write), and as I turned my essay in I said, “If I do not win, please gently pull me aside and let me know that food writing is not in my future.”

Culinary and Writing are both ego fueled careers, and while I find pleasure in both, I’s be lying if I didn’t admit to also finding pleasure in the ego stroking. It feels good to have people recognize the work you’ve done, and the chorus of “ohhhhhs,” and “ahhhhhhhs,”  is better than a paycheck. (Ok, not really, the pay check is important too.)
Thanks to Erin, Lily, Carolyn and Shannon for reading through and editing.

Red Velvet

My father isn’t a hard man to please. A southern born military school graduate, he likes things done right, the first time. Simple pleasures such as sipping a cold can of Coca Cola after mowing the lawn on a hot summer afternoon, or a few autumn puffs on his pipe deeply satisfy him. In contrast to the ever-changing demands for sweets and entertainment, and full attention we placed on our mother, my father’s few and far between requests carried more weight. A man who valued quality over quantity and an evolving gastronome, his traditional but impeccable taste in food has proved to be a bedrock in my culinary journey.

Such was the case for his birthday cake. No ordinary cake would do. Sub-par sponge blanketed with garish pink buttercream roses plagued our local grocery store bakeries. My mother, partaking in a cherished family tradition from my father’s childhood would present to him a fully homemade red velvet cake.

Every January 31st following the long holiday baking season of pies, Christmas cookies, and fruitcake my mother would lug out her white Kitchen Aid standing mixer. And from her worn tin recipe box, she would pull a faded 3×5 card for red velvet cake penned in Grandmother Williams elegant, but illegible cursive.
Pulling a chair over from the kitchen table I would peer over the mixer, watching in silent awe. Crack! The eggs slid into the bowl. Ploom! A puff of flour escaping into the air. “This is daddy’s cake,” my mother would say to my sister Jamie and me as we waited patiently to lick the paddle attachment clean of its pink batter. “And when he was a boy, his mother would make it for him on his birthday.”
After dinner, it would appear. A cake dreams are made of, three tiers of sanguine sponge, swirls of frosting suggesting cascading silk theater curtains the color of fresh cold snow. With a long slicer she would slowly saw into the cake, removing a wedge to reveal a shade of dangerously exciting red. The dense, but moist cake tasted of pure milk chocolate, and the smooth, luxuriously rich cream cheese frosting sent me whirling into a pleasure coma, eyelids half-mast, a satisfied grin plastered across my young face. Had I known about the birds and the bees then, I surely would have sworn them off for a lifetime supply of red velvet cake.
After dinner the Kitchen Aid mixer would go back in the cabinet; the recipe card, further sepia-toned with a splash of vanilla, back into the tin recipe box. Like her fruitcake or chocolate dipped pretzels, I naively expected my father’s cake every year, but as our family schedule became more harried, tradition fell by the wayside. Leaving the dirty work to restaurants, my father’s birthday was celebrated with a meal out through high school and college.

Several years have past since my mother has made my father’s favorite cake, but there isn’t a January that goes by where my father and I don’t make a deal with God for just one more slice of red velvet.

I have received a couple of emails lately asking if I am still in school and that answer is yes.

I am halfway through my third quarter (two more to go). Here I am in the bakeshop piping a mushroom filling into pate choux.

This quarter (3rd quarter) is our intro to casual dining. We rotate through international menus (French, Italian, American, Asian), each having an opportunity to test drive stations in brigade style restaurant kitchen, pantry, grill, fry, sauté, sous chef, and chef. We also spend a week in the formal dining room, and a week in the bakeshop.

Myself, I’ve been out of the kitchen for the last two weeks, in the bake shop (as seen above) and in the dining room, while my fellow classmates have been putting out an Americana menu created by Chef Nick Musser of Seattle’s Icon Grill.

The shift between second quarter and third quarter is close to the difference between undergraduate and graduate studies. My first two quarters I was jamming the basics into my head, cooking temperatures, visual clues for doneness, sauces: all very important, but less than riveting. Now, we study the history of the country/region out menu comes from, the ingredients, chef’s of the region, or who are representing that culinary style elsewhere. As someone who reads McGee (On Food and Cooking) for fun, I am ecstatic, as most of my classmates are, to be probing at the heart of why we love to cook and why we are in culinary school.

After braving and trudging through 11 long weeks of quantity cooking, Chef Gregg Atkinson (yes, Seattleites, that Gregg Atkinson, previous head chef of Canilis, author of several cookbooks including Northwest Essentials, and West Coast Cooking, Host of many KCTS Cooking specials, and regular contributor to the Seattle Times, as a recent article in Bon Appetite), stands and a savior at the end of that long dark tunnel.

Ok, to get that tangent back on path, our Americana menu, was eye opening in the fact that if really forced me to come up with a definition of what American Cuisine is. Having distinct regional cuisines, taking in to account the succession of ingredients and techniques from out “melting pot” population, and out processed food culture that doesn’t appear to being going away anytime soon, coming up with a simple answer to “What is American Cuisine?” proved more difficult than I expected.

When you make a quick mental list of what American food is what do you come up with? Apple Pie? Hamburgers? Pot Roast? Mashed Potatoes? Comfort food? Bingo. Our menu we put out this turn was much the same, fried chicken salad, mac and cheese, steak with blue cheese sauce and horseradish potatoes (something I tried at home and will post about in a bit), chocolate sundae, and bbq chicken pizza.

To me Modern American cuisine is defined by comfort food. It is food of nostalgia, in a harried paced world, uncomplicated dishes food that sets you at ease and tastes as though they were made with love. It is a style of food that with the right ingredients and technique can transcend fine dining to truck stops. Since Alice Waters opened Chez Panisse in 1971, her restaurant manifesto has slowly infiltrated the way American Chefs cook. A commitment to quality ingredients, cooking seasonal, creating relationships with farmers, foragers, and artisans (did you read the farm to table story in the October issue of Bon Appetite?). This once revolutionary side of cooking is now at the forefront of American fine dining.

Armindino Batali had two shopping tips for Kevin and I on our upcoming trip to Naples. He instructed Kevin to buy some traditional Almafian Jewelry for me, and for us to bring back 100 water buffalo so that we could get ourselves a plot on Vashon Island and, “make what the US is missing”, buffalo mozzarella.

My guess is that we will take him up on tip number one.

Earlier this evening, Kevin, myself and a handful of AIWF members participated in a tasting of Batali’s salumi and WA wines.

I had thought it would be a salumi class or lecture, but really it was an opportunity to hear some of Armindino’s stories of Dario the famous Tuscan butcher, and other antidotes from his tours of Italian farms as well as chat him up about where his meat comes from and just how he enjoyed Anthony Bourdain’s, and the travel channel’s visit to Salumi. As if that line isn’t already long enough.

My wee summer vacation slipped through my fingers quickly, and paired with a less than sunny Seattle summer weather, I found myself often in the Public library pouring over cookbooks. For the first time ever, it was the intros I was after rather than the recipes.  Filled with tips, inspirations, and general cooking know how, these precious few pages before the omnibus of recipes begin are like private lessons from the world’s best chefs. To keep myself motivated as I approach my third decade, I’ve started scribbling (ok, typing really) down those that strike a deep chord.

Alice Waters: Chez Panisse Vegetables
“Exact quantities should never matter as much to a good cook or vegetables (or of anything else) as her confidence in her own senses.”

Connie Trang: Essentials of Asian Cuisine
“The most important lesson I took from French cuisine was its notion of structure in cooking. When one learns the “architecture” of a cuisine, the rest will follow.”

Rick Bayles: Mexican Everyday
“Essential Learning #5 The world’s most time-honored cuisines illustrate that; 1, everyday eating is best kept to deliciously seasoned simple preparations of natural ingredients (mostly unrefined and balanced among a variety of fruits, vegetables, grains, legumes, and meat) Served in moderate portions and 2, fabulous feasts, once a week, or for special occasions are an essential part of our healthy nourishment.”

Daniel Boulud: Letters to a Young Chef
“Never worry that someone will come along who is as good as you are. Two cooks- working as a team are much more valuable than one good cook. In cooking as in music, harmony is greater than the sum of its parts.”

It is however, these opening lines from the 1966 publication of Julia Child’s groundbreaking The Art of French Cooking, that makes me appreciate and envy the generations before me, who grew up with this culinary icon, as apposed to my generations’ TV cooks, RR and Sandra Lee

“This is a book for the servantless American cook who can be unconcerned on occasion with budgets, waistlines, time schedules, children’s meals, the parent-chauffeur-den-mother syndrome, or anything else which might interfere with the enjoyment of producing something wonderful to eat.”

As I write my belly is swollen and sore. Thoughts of breakfast are shocked into reality by stabbing pains of fullness. Memories of fillet mignon with foie gras butter, seated vanilla encrusted hamachi with osetra caviar and arugula and cilantro micro-greens make their presence known. All the plates seemed so small, but man are they coming back to haunt me now.

Last night to celebrate my and Kevin’s 5th wedding anniversary my parents treated us to the Columbia Winery’s wine makers dinner at Meritage, in the Redmond Town Center. My snob-dar instantly switched on when I was told that we would be eating in the Marriot, in Microsoft-y Redmond none the less. Hotel restaurants a: have a reputation for being over priced, over taxed and not very good, and b: location, location, location? A hotel in a shopping center near Microsoft? Not exactly a see and be seen type of joint.
I was proven wrong however, as executive Chef Ken Harper and Wine Maker Kerry Norton put out quite a spread. Our server, cute and friendly, could have used a crash course in the menu, as every question I asked, “What is this sauce?” “What kind of caviar is this?” “What kind of mushroom is this?” was answered only after she ran off to the chef to ask.

This morning, still a little starry-eyed over this fantastic meal I ate at the Marriot, THE MARRIOT, I am questioning how long I will have to fast before I can eat again.

The Menu

agnozing over the beef or the chicken or the pork

Vanilla encrusted hamachi with osetra caviar, micro greens, and a sweet pea puree. This truly was the essence of the seal, light, salty, sweet, and I wanted more.

The second course started off with good intentions, broccoli soup poured tableside over spiced pecans and cream fraiche, yet instead of velvety soup flowing out of the crock, lumpy broccoli puree plopped into the bowls, barely making a circle around the garnish. The taste was fine, but for fine dining, it should have been smoother and more refined.

The broccoli soup was paired with a 2005 Columbia Valley Chardonnay that had been frozen cold by the restaurant. The most unsuccessful course of the menu.

Beets topped with a delicate fleur de sel, green with shaved black truffle tossed in a Gewurztraminer vinaigrette, paired with a tres fruity 2006 Columbia Valley Gewurztaminer. Presentation on the plate was askew. I think a smaller plate, a square plate, or a streak of something to the right of the beets would have filled the void nicely.

Our third course offered duck confit and lobster mushrooms layered upon each other in a napoleon style, crowned with a segmented orange and savory hollandaise sauce. If our first dish was the essence of the sea, then this dish was the essence of the earth. The lobster mushroom, my first taste of such, was toothsome, but over powered by the hollandaise. The fig and duck, were perfect, a nice game-y flavor complimented by the sweet of the fig. This we ate with a 2003 Red Wilow Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon.

The pear sorbet meant to refresh our palate, was to sweet for my taste, and, frankly, too much of it. This ain’t Baskin-Robbins 31 Flavors ya’ll. Ding dang.

At this point in the evening I have consumed too many glasses of wine to keep up my critique and constant analyzing of flavors. Now passing judgement came in one of two grunts. Mmmm, and uh.

My fillet mignon, topped with fois grais butter and resting on a bed of blue cheese and caramelized onion whipped potatoes, asparagus (really? In September?), and syrah peppercorn demi-glace. Mmmmmmm

Kevin and my Father’s roasted garlic maple brined pork tenderloin on a bed of clam polenta with broccolini. Uh. The pork was fab, but that clam risotto was like a mouth full of sea water plus corn. I guess if you like clam dip you’d be into it.

My mother’s prosciutto wrapped, duxelle wild mushroom stuffed roasted airlpane breast of chicken served atop butternut squash risotto. I think they could have cleaned up that bone sticking out of the breast a little better. One of those white poofy things reserved for turkey drumsticks at least.
Uh.

Nothing compared to those mashed potatoes. Which were heavenly paired with a 2001 Red Wilow Vineyard Milestone Merlot and a 2002 Red Willow Vineyard Syrah.

Dessert was a cappuccino joconde (which, after many google searches, turned up pictures of the Mona Lisa- even after eating it I’m still confused as to what it was- a cake, with a truffle like chocolate center), too heavy after the main course, but the port it was paired with went down fine, -probably the reason why I don’ have a picture of it.
The Marriot. Who knew?