But will there be pizza?

UGH! These guys.
I apologize if you have clicked through this link and now you have used one of your 10 free monthly New York Times articles (actually I am not sorry, buy a subscription!). However, I read this today and I believe there are some things to be said. Things to be said by me.
Now, let me please start by saying that I have immense respect for both Thomas Keller and Andoni Luis Aduriz. I believe Keller to be an inspiration for being able to create a range of restaurants, from the accessible (if not cheap) Ad Hoc and Bouchon Bakery, to the impenetrably exclusive French Laundry and Per Se that are all great. I am less familiar with Aduriz, but from what I know of his restaurant Mugaritz, he excels at balancing humor and sophistication with deliciousness and comfort.
You can imagine, then, my disappointment when these shining stars of the international culinary community were featured this week in the New York Times proudly proclaiming that they should have no responsibility to serve local, sustainable foods or give a thought to their carbon footprint. The key to saving our imperiled planet is government oversight, they said! They are artists who feed next to no one, so how could what they do have any impact?
Well, guys, as a wise Dude once said, you’re not wrong, you’re just assholes.

First, it’s true: the restaurants of Thomas Keller and Andoni Aduriz feed VERY few people in the global sense. And their restaurants’ purchases will likely have little to nothing to do with the temperature of the planet in the long run. But part of what you do when you open outposts across the country (As Keller has) and publish cookbooks (now they both have) is create a place for yourself in the conversation. People who listen to people talk about food (like me) listen to THEM.
As someone who works with producers, I know first hand that a restaurant’s standing order, even a small one, can sustain a farm, and thus someone’s livelihood. If care is taken in choosing a farm whose production methods are sustainable (in that they preserve and improve their land, rather than deplete it) the impact goes far beyond the farm and benefits the local community and the environment. These are not relationships to be taken lightly, or to make light of. 
Because of this, I wonder how Aduriz can believe that “The job of a restaurant is to make the gap tighter between our experience and their context,” and yet quickly assert, according to the article, “that such an attempt is an overarching goal, not a day-to-day task.” It seems to me inarguable that eating food, regardless of it’s end product, is intrinsically linked to the land that produced it. How, then, does Mr Aduriz believe that he will achieve that goal if not by everyday choices?
I would much rather hear these men brag about how great their food is than denounce the idea that chefs shouldn’t have to be aware or responsible for the consequences of their purchases. WE ALL DO! Not all the time, and I understand that not everyone has the luxury. But food is an incredibly powerful social and cultural force, and one with the power affect the health of people, animals and our planet. Chefs like Alice Waters of Chez Panisse and Dan Barber of Blue Hill have never been accused of lackluster taste or creativity because they choose to support sustainable local farms, and to use their influence to increase the availability of healthful food to urban areas or to educate the public about sustainable farming practices.
I hope to see those trends continue, and that we celebrate those that are doing something, rather than the ones, like these assholes, who claim that it is too limiting, too inconsequential to do anything.

UGH! These guys.

I apologize if you have clicked through this link and now you have used one of your 10 free monthly New York Times articles (actually I am not sorry, buy a subscription!). However, I read this today and I believe there are some things to be said. Things to be said by me.

Now, let me please start by saying that I have immense respect for both Thomas Keller and Andoni Luis Aduriz. I believe Keller to be an inspiration for being able to create a range of restaurants, from the accessible (if not cheap) Ad Hoc and Bouchon Bakery, to the impenetrably exclusive French Laundry and Per Se that are all great. I am less familiar with Aduriz, but from what I know of his restaurant Mugaritz, he excels at balancing humor and sophistication with deliciousness and comfort.

You can imagine, then, my disappointment when these shining stars of the international culinary community were featured this week in the New York Times proudly proclaiming that they should have no responsibility to serve local, sustainable foods or give a thought to their carbon footprint. The key to saving our imperiled planet is government oversight, they said! They are artists who feed next to no one, so how could what they do have any impact?

Well, guys, as a wise Dude once said, you’re not wrong, you’re just assholes.

The Dude

First, it’s true: the restaurants of Thomas Keller and Andoni Aduriz feed VERY few people in the global sense. And their restaurants’ purchases will likely have little to nothing to do with the temperature of the planet in the long run. But part of what you do when you open outposts across the country (As Keller has) and publish cookbooks (now they both have) is create a place for yourself in the conversation. People who listen to people talk about food (like me) listen to THEM.

As someone who works with producers, I know first hand that a restaurant’s standing order, even a small one, can sustain a farm, and thus someone’s livelihood. If care is taken in choosing a farm whose production methods are sustainable (in that they preserve and improve their land, rather than deplete it) the impact goes far beyond the farm and benefits the local community and the environment. These are not relationships to be taken lightly, or to make light of.

Because of this, I wonder how Aduriz can believe that “The job of a restaurant is to make the gap tighter between our experience and their context,” and yet quickly assert, according to the article, “that such an attempt is an overarching goal, not a day-to-day task.” It seems to me inarguable that eating food, regardless of it’s end product, is intrinsically linked to the land that produced it. How, then, does Mr Aduriz believe that he will achieve that goal if not by everyday choices?

I would much rather hear these men brag about how great their food is than denounce the idea that chefs shouldn’t have to be aware or responsible for the consequences of their purchases. WE ALL DO! Not all the time, and I understand that not everyone has the luxury. But food is an incredibly powerful social and cultural force, and one with the power affect the health of people, animals and our planet. Chefs like Alice Waters of Chez Panisse and Dan Barber of Blue Hill have never been accused of lackluster taste or creativity because they choose to support sustainable local farms, and to use their influence to increase the availability of healthful food to urban areas or to educate the public about sustainable farming practices.

I hope to see those trends continue, and that we celebrate those that are doing something, rather than the ones, like these assholes, who claim that it is too limiting, too inconsequential to do anything.

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Let me begin this post by apologizing for my legions of devoted fans whose lives, I’m sure, were sent into a tailspin by the abrupt and inexplicable discontinuation of this blog. While I am not one to make excuses (right…), in the past six months I moved, started a new job, and experienced a variety of other positive, but obviously distracting, life changes.

But did I stop cooking? No. Did I stop eating? NO. Duh. So then what’s with the silence, you may ask? Just bad manners I suppose. SORRY GUYS!

With that out of the way, we have some things to discuss. Because actually, I’ve been doing a lot of cooking. And I’ve been cooking some really good (really beefy) things. Now that the weather has turned colder and I live in a small apartment (the temperature of which is heavily influenced by whether or not the oven is on), it is time to roast. It is time to braise. It is time for winter squashes (acorn and kabocha being my favorites) and wild mushrooms (chantrelles, expensive and worth it). I fucking love winter cooking.

A few weeks ago I had my family over for dinner, something I usually avoid because I have no dining room and no dining table. In this situation, a host really needs to wow with the food lest the guests feel they are being made to sit awkwardly with a plate balanced on their laps for nothing.

Now, some of you may know that my new job has led me to think a bit harder about where I buy meat. Luckily, a brand new butcher shop opened a little over a mile from my house that is doing a pretty great job, I must say. It is called The Local Butcher Shop (seriously, though) and it is almost unimaginably cute. The text on the labels asks “What did the scale say?” in place of the standard “weight”, and the white-collared-shirt-wearing butchers wear ties and, usually, hats. It is a bright, open space where whole sides of beef are dispatched on a giant butcher block in the center of the room for all to watch. In fact, The Local only buys whole animals from pasture-based farms within 150 miles of the shop, encouraging customers to try less famous cuts by pricing all their meat by which section of the animal it comes from: front, middle, or rear.

I am crazy about this butcher shop. When you pick a number to wait your turn, you are really taking a recipe card for some fantastic sounding French dish. I want to fill my freezer with their stocks and demi-glace. I want to stand in front of the refrigerated cases and listen to the knowledgeable butchers extol the virtues of cuts of beef I never knew existed, let alone might be even better than others I have been savoring for years. I have never tried their house-made pate de champagne or pork rilletes, probably two of my favorite food products in life, in that order. This is because, often, I get so overwhelmed with joy and consumed with want, I have to leave with whatever I came for and nothing else for fear of draining my bank account to its last and having to call a cab to haul my shamefully excessive purchases home. If you live in or around Berkeley I highly recommend you start shopping here immediately.

Anyway, the food. For my little dinner party, and on behalf of the season, I decided I wanted to braise lamb shanks. As it should be, lamb is very expensive at The Local Butcher shop. My solution: short ribs! Unfortunately, the person in front of me bought the last of the short ribs and I was left to devise a new solution. Thankfully I was not alone and my new butcher friend gently encouraged me to try braising beef shanks instead. “That’s what I usually get. Plus, you get that marrow bone in there.” I see what you did there, butcher.

So I bought three. And they are not small.

Beef shanks, from the front end of a happy cow.

Now, these were exceptional pieces of meat. They smelled good raw. How is that possible, you ask? Dry aging, I’d imagine, though I don’t have confirmation on that. They smelled savory and meaty, not metallic and saline as raw meat usually does. I was, admittedly, a little nervous to cook them as any flub would result in a huge loss from which I’d likely only recover after significant and costly counseling.

Bacon, halved garlic cloves from one head of garlic, celery, onion, and carrot.

My usual approach for a technique as forgiving as braising is to read over several recipes to get the gist of it (temperature, cooking time, imperative ingredients) and adjust according to my tastes and what I have in the house. This time I referenced basic braising recipes in How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman (that essential, indispensable tome) and The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters (a great resource and beautiful, but not yet a necessity). Basically, you want to put meat in a heavy, covered pot with enough liquid to coax it to fall apart at the touch of a fork and with enough tasty ingredients along side it to transform that liquid into a silky, meaty sauce to serve (ideally) over mashed potatoes.

With all the ingredients (the liquid was a cup of red wine plus enough water to reach the top of the shanks but not cover them) nestled into my pot, I put the whole thing in a relatively cool oven (about 325, I’d imagine) for two and a half hours. Had I more time, I would have let them braise longer. They were tender and delicious, though, and rendered the glorious marrow into a sauce that was almost shamefully tasty. And, the house smelled fantastic when the guests arrived.

Welcome winter, I have just the food for you.

True story: the leftovers were so good, I ate dinner at 3:30pm the next day.

Lately I’ve been trying to eat a touch healthier, and have a brand new job where I work from home, making cooking elaborate meals for myself much, much easier. After receiving my October issue of Martha Stewart Everyday Food (which I highly recommend in spite of its small format, they always seem to have of-the-moment), I decided to make some cauliflower puree. Now, I am not new to the concept of swapping higher calorie ingredients (in this case, potatoes) for lighter ones. I am, however, highly skeptical of them as they rarely make for a satisfying substitution. I love cauliflower, though, so I thought it might be a nice vegetable side/dip/pasta sauce to add to my burgeoning farmers market-fueled repertoire.
While the recipe originally called for thinning the steamed cauliflower with stock, I used low-fat milk. With a teaspoon of olive oil, two tablespoons of Parmesan cheese (it was pretty cheesy tasting, you could easily cut this in half or leave it out completely), and a teaspoon of garlic, this is still a light and absolutely delicious vegetable preparation. You could dress it up with just about any herbs, spices, pastes, or other color/flavors that might help it stand in for hummus, white bean puree, pesto, or, of course, mashed potatoes.

Lately I’ve been trying to eat a touch healthier, and have a brand new job where I work from home, making cooking elaborate meals for myself much, much easier. After receiving my October issue of Martha Stewart Everyday Food (which I highly recommend in spite of its small format, they always seem to have of-the-moment), I decided to make some cauliflower puree. Now, I am not new to the concept of swapping higher calorie ingredients (in this case, potatoes) for lighter ones. I am, however, highly skeptical of them as they rarely make for a satisfying substitution. I love cauliflower, though, so I thought it might be a nice vegetable side/dip/pasta sauce to add to my burgeoning farmers market-fueled repertoire.

While the recipe originally called for thinning the steamed cauliflower with stock, I used low-fat milk. With a teaspoon of olive oil, two tablespoons of Parmesan cheese (it was pretty cheesy tasting, you could easily cut this in half or leave it out completely), and a teaspoon of garlic, this is still a light and absolutely delicious vegetable preparation. You could dress it up with just about any herbs, spices, pastes, or other color/flavors that might help it stand in for hummus, white bean puree, pesto, or, of course, mashed potatoes.

Love it.
haparamen:

Top = fluid gel ratio. Bottom = chickpea panisse recipe.  (Taken with instagram)

Love it.

haparamen:

Top = fluid gel ratio. Bottom = chickpea panisse recipe. (Taken with instagram)

You should plan to eat at Oliveto, like, now.

I recently came across (via Bi-Rite Market) the community blog of Oliveto restaurant, a delicious stalwart of the Rockridge neighborhood in Oakland. Their cafe has always been one of my favorite places to stop in for a snack and glass of wine when I’m in the area, and the dining room remains a perfect choice for a special occasion treat.

True to their dedication to locally sourced ingredients, they have recently received an enormous shipment of grass-fed, grass-finished beef from area producers. Of course, they have turned these delectable animals into wonderful dishes being served in the restaurant. Unfortunately for those of us who are just learning about these special events, the last one is scheduled for next Saturday, July 9. So make a reservation, beg, barter, whatever but get yourself there because they are serving PRIME RIB.

Also, do check out their blog. It’s a wonderful resource for information on Northern California farms, their goods, and the fabulous things the Oliveto folks make out them.

Good shirt!
ruthbourdain:

Incanto chef Chris Cosentino makes a fashion statement at the Aspen Food & Wine Classic: “I Am Ruth Bourdain.”

Good shirt!

ruthbourdain:

Incanto chef Chris Cosentino makes a fashion statement at the Aspen Food & Wine Classic: “I Am Ruth Bourdain.”

(Source: ruthbourdain)

A very good burger.

As someone who works in Downtown San Francisco on occasion, I am all too familiar with the somewhat stagnant (at best) and downright disappointing (at worst) lunch and early dinner options in the area. Chipotle is consistent, Soup Freaks is unremarkable but never disappointing, and ‘Witchcraft is delicious and expensive. Now, I know that these places do not make up the entirety of lunch options in the Financial District and South of Market areas, but they are the few I frequent. Perhaps the problem is that I was in a lunch rut? Maybe. However, it seems that the area lacks for reasonably priced filling foods in a slightly sexy atmosphere.

Enter Super Duper Burgers.

Now, I know that calling a fast-casual burger place sexy might strike some of you as odd. However, this local mini-chain (their other location is in the Castro) kind of is! They use natural beef (Niman Ranch) and Strauss Organic soft serve for their milkshakes, which is good. They make their own pickles and sauces and baked goods which sounds really good. Basically, it’s a slightly more dressed-up version of In-N-Out burger. But more importantly, they serve a delicious burger in a neighborhood just DYING for a delicious burger.

What I ate:
I ordered one Super Burger (made with two 4oz patties) with cheese with lettuce, tomato, super sauce, grilled onions, and I’m pretty sure jalapenos but I don’t recall them making it on the burger. On the side I had an order fries with three dips (chipotle, super sauce, and homemade mayonnaise), and a Thomas Kemper Black Cherry Soda to drink. This feast (seriously, the burger was huge) cost $12, and I could easily have eaten just the Mini Burger (one 4oz patty) and fries without the sauces (they were nothing special) and kept the meal well under $10.

Cute packaging.

The best thing about the Super Duper burger is that the burger is really, really good. The grind of the meat is coarse (done in-house daily) and aggressively seasoned with a delicious beefy flavor. It also has the most incredible crispy char on the outside while the inside remains perfectly pink and impossibly juicy. Seriously, this is a many-napkin experience. The cheese was plentiful and melted completely, an important detail other fast-casual burgers often ignore. The rest of the toppings were merely an afterthought, and while I am never one to order a naked burger, if you happened to be so inclined it would not be a bad move to skip them altogether. The fries were thin and crispy enough, but were perhaps a little too thin and not quite crispy enough.

Other good things to note: Super Duper burger serves the aforementioned shakes and soft serve, as well as non-beef burgers, wine and beer on tap ($3 and $4 respectively), and they are open from 11am to 10pm DAILY (yes, even Sunday). Now begins my enormous task of not eating here every week…

I am very fond of this walnut stencil that I saw on my walk through Golden Gate Park this morning.

I am very fond of this walnut stencil that I saw on my walk through Golden Gate Park this morning.

Growing up, one of my favorite things to eat was the Ollalieberry Pie from Fat Apples. They also make very good hamburgers and other things I believe, though the only thing I really remember is the pie. It is possible, and I do not think that I am exaggerating that much when I say this, that the Ollalieberry is the most delicious fruit there is. Somewhat like a blackberry (as is evident from its pedigree above), its sweet, mildly tart flavor is indescribably tasty because, unlike for savoriness (described in Japanese as “umami”), there isn’t a single word that could do it justice. Upon returning to the Bay Area a few years ago, I was happy to find that they sell jars of Ollalieberry-Raspberry jam (the purist in me was slightly disappointed about the blend but it was still the tastiest). It had been a long while since making my way out to replenish my jam supply (and even longer since sampling the pie), so my life has been sadly lacking in Ollalieberriness for too long. That is, until yesterday when I found Ollalieberry jam in the refrigerated bulk section at Berkeley Bowl. It is SO GOOD, in case you were wondering. It also made me wonder what other Ollalieberry products might be out there that I haven’t tried. So, without further ado, here’s my short list of Ollalieberry things.
Linn’s of Cambria has tons of Ollalieberry products, most of which sound good. I am skeptical about the mustard.
Ollalieberry.comis the domain name for a bed and breakfast in Cambria, California. Looks nice enough if you’re into that sort of thing.
Ollalieberries are offered as a “U-Pick” crop at Swanton Berry Farm in Davenport, CA. They also have a recipe page for ideas with what to do with your haul.
Ollalieberry wine? OK.
Bootleggers from Southern California may or may not still be making an Ollalieberry Lambic.
There is a simple, delightful looking tart recipe over at Chez Pim.

Growing up, one of my favorite things to eat was the Ollalieberry Pie from Fat Apples. They also make very good hamburgers and other things I believe, though the only thing I really remember is the pie. It is possible, and I do not think that I am exaggerating that much when I say this, that the Ollalieberry is the most delicious fruit there is. Somewhat like a blackberry (as is evident from its pedigree above), its sweet, mildly tart flavor is indescribably tasty because, unlike for savoriness (described in Japanese as “umami”), there isn’t a single word that could do it justice. Upon returning to the Bay Area a few years ago, I was happy to find that they sell jars of Ollalieberry-Raspberry jam (the purist in me was slightly disappointed about the blend but it was still the tastiest). It had been a long while since making my way out to replenish my jam supply (and even longer since sampling the pie), so my life has been sadly lacking in Ollalieberriness for too long. That is, until yesterday when I found Ollalieberry jam in the refrigerated bulk section at Berkeley Bowl. It is SO GOOD, in case you were wondering. It also made me wonder what other Ollalieberry products might be out there that I haven’t tried. So, without further ado, here’s my short list of Ollalieberry things.

Linn’s of Cambria has tons of Ollalieberry products, most of which sound good. I am skeptical about the mustard.

Ollalieberry.comis the domain name for a bed and breakfast in Cambria, California. Looks nice enough if you’re into that sort of thing.

Ollalieberries are offered as a “U-Pick” crop at Swanton Berry Farm in Davenport, CA. They also have a recipe page for ideas with what to do with your haul.

Ollalieberry wine? OK.

Bootleggers from Southern California may or may not still be making an Ollalieberry Lambic.

There is a simple, delightful looking tart recipe over at Chez Pim.