An LA Story?

Last month Nate and I took a whirlwind four-day trip to Los Angeles. He was attending a writing conference with Robert McKee (author of Story, the screenwriter's bible). I tagged along to see friends and family.

Everyone warned me about how horrible LA is - the traffic! the prices! the people!

But, you know what? All of that proved to be untrue.

I drove south to Oceanside one day to visit my stepsister - made it there and back in under 2 hours each way.

Prices didn't seem so bad; in fact, many of our meals cost LESS than in Seattle.

And everyone we met was so darn friendly.

Maybe these misconceptions represent the LA of old? Or perhaps they're rumors Los Angelenos spread to keep people from moving to their city (much like we always tell people Seattle is grey and rainy 10 months of the year. Oh....wait. That one is true).

In any case, it was a lovely trip. I wish I'd taken my camera out of my (new Coach!) bag more. Here's what we have:

In LA, the streets are lined with palms not pines.

Beautiful grate/window at Griffith Observatory.

You know the phrase "amazeballs"? That is these garlic knots. More to come in a future post!

I love it when a plan comes together: Three-tomato sauce

Sometimes, things just come together.

I’ve taken what feels like a nearly 9-month long hiatus from cooking. No, not because I was pregnant – but because I’ve been in school. I went back in fall to get a marketing management certificate through UW. Only one course per week, but it’s left me with little brainspace to do much else.

My cooking skills have definitely suffered. We’ve eaten a lot of (gasp) frozen meals. And I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve tried to cook of late, only to get distracted halfway through and flub up a meal.

There are just 12 days left of class (yes, I’m counting). This past weekend, on the eve of my rough-draft presentation for this quarter’s practicum, I felt a lift. I was inspired – actually excited – to get into the kitchen.

I had a general idea of what I wanted to make. We’d picked up some frozen tuna steaks from Trader Joe’s, and I wanted to pair them with a spicy, robust puttanesca-type sauce – based on the one from my favorite vegetarian cookbook. We also had some grape tomatoes on the counter that needed to be used and a new pouch of sundried tomatoes calling to me.

And so, three-tomato sauce was born: A sweet, spicy, chunky sauce bursting with three types of tomatoes + tangy olives and capers. I love the way the grape tomatoes and kalamata olives looked in the saucepan – echoes of each other, one bright red and one dark purple. I wish I had a photo to show you, but I just ate the last bite.

I’m looking forward to what awaits – more free time on the horizon, so close I can almost taste all the deliciousness in my future.

  

Three-tomato sauce (inspired by puttanesca)

• Olive oil
• 1 onion, sliced
• 2-3 garlic cloves, sliced
• Red pepper flakes, to taste
• 1 small jar tomato paste
• 1 c. grape tomatoes
• ½ c. sundried tomatoes (I left them whole, but next time will cut in half)
• Approx 20 kalamata olives + some of their brine
• 2 T. large capers + some of their brine

Sauté onions and garlic in olive oil until tender. Add red pepper to taste. Stir in tomato paste, grape tomatoes, sundried tomatoes, kalamatas/brine, and capers/brine. Simmer to let flavors meld, approximately 20 minutes. (Note that at simmer stage, I transferred the sauce from the sauté pan to a covered pot – I needed the pan for my tuna steaks. You could cook it in the sauté pan, though – just cover it to help seal in spatters.)

Can be served as a protein topper (over tuna or chicken) or as a pasta sauce. I bet this would even be good heaped, cold, onto bruschetta.

The Holy Grail of Soups - Tomato-Cheese, Part 2

The plot thickens, my friends. More than a year ago, I posted about my ongoing quest to find the recipe for the tomato soup served in Eugene, Oregon's Glenwood Cafe.

The soup is tangy and perfectly seasoned, but its mystery lies in its shredded cheese - which never melts, no matter how hot the soup.

Just a few weeks ago, a new comment appeared on that post. Seems someone else was sleuthing for the recipe and found my blog. She had a hot tip to share. Had I tried soaking the cheese in vinegar first? It is known to change the structure (proteins, reportedly) of the cheese and keep it from melting.

And so, I tried. I grated some Tillamook cheddar, put it into a bowl and covered it with apple cider vinegar in the morning. And then I waited. After work, I tasted a few shreds. Bouncier - more like cheese curds. Hmm.

I also wanted to experiment with this recipe for tomato soup, which I'm sure is fabulous if done correctly, but which I proceeded to alter (no chicken stock, no cream) and burn (as I worked on laundry and talked to my friend on the phone. Not a good combo).

But the cheese - it held its shape! I stirred it in to the pot about 10 minutes before serving, cranked the heat to medium (Not for more char taste, but to test the vinegar-cheese theory). And it worked! Even today, after reheating in the microwave for 2 minutes, the shreds stay intact.

This may be the trick. However, the soup tasted very vinegary. I'm not sure if this was due to the vinegar-soaked cheese. Next time I will try sweeter balsamic, as the comment suggested. But I had also stirred a couple Tbsp of balsamic vinegar in to the soup pot to counteract the burned taste...could be the culprit.

But, we may be on to something, so stay tuned! And send recipes for tomato-basil soups you think I should try as my base, if you would...Thanks!

Aloha spirit

Aloha! I've been meaning to document last month's trip to the Big Island of Hawaii for some time now. Seems work and school and life have gotten in the way. But I wanted to share a few images from the trip, and some treasures we brought back from Kona. On our last full day on the island, I posed the question aloud to myself: What will I bring home from this trip? I wasn't thinking about the sand in my suitcase or the tan that quickly faded. Rather, lasting, indelible memories - specifically in the form of tastes and smells.

Papaya is common on a Hawaiian tropical fruit plate. I've never cared for it much, unless a heavy squeeze of lime juice corrects the over-sweet flesh to tone it down. On this trip, though, we discovered a new way to eat, and use, papaya: as a vessel for tangy plain yogurt, covered with a healthy sprinkle of coconut granola. I've made this at home weekly since our return, inspired by the breakfasts at Island Lava Java in Kona.

Smoked mozzarella: Where have you been all my life? Specifically, why have you not been on pizza? For festive occasions, I've sometimes bought a braid of smoked mozz to slice alongside some crackers. Once or twice, I've even grated it atop smoky chili. But I never thought of the joy this smoky, rich flavor would bring to a wood fired pizza. We went back to Kona Brewing Co. twice for their Puna Pie - slices heaped with roasted garlic and smoked-mozzarella perfection.

I eat a salad nearly every day, and have for decades. I look forward to the cool, crisp crunch of greens to end my meal. This trip provided the best lettuce I've ever had on the islands - locally grown, both tender and crisp, and shockingly fresh. In some cases, like at the charming cafe up the hill from King Kamehameha's Royal Grounds, the lettuce was grown mere steps from my plate. In Kona, at Huggo's on the Rocks' outside beach-bar (where I dined with sand in between my toes), I had a Hawaiian version of one of my favorite concoctions: warm protein (preferably fish) atop crunchy greens. Huggo's version came topped with a macadamia-nut crusted whitefish and a side of white rice, which I quickly blended in to my greens. All was topped with a sweet, tangy, gingery dressing and served, delightfully, nestled inside a bamboo steaming basket.

Plumeria is my happy-place scent. Upon arrival to the islands, it is a welcoming custom to be given a lei. Here's mine - pink and white plumeria strung on a simple thread. The heady, sweet scent is intoxicating. The other picture is of the most beautiful plumeria trees I've ever seen - deep pink flowers resting in the foreground to the bright blue ocean. At a gas station. The most unlikely of spots to find beauty.

As our trip came to an end, I knew I couldn't leave without some tangible memories. At the postage stamp of an airport on Kona, I stocked up on all things plumeria: a sticker for my car, a couple of hair accessories, and a bottle of lotion. None are the real deal, but they'll help kickstart memories of a lovely trip. Much like Aloha can mean hello or goodbye, the scent of plumeria, to me, represents a welcome as well as a bon voyage (or, preferably, a "see you soon").

Aloha!

Brown sugar!

I love my rock n roll, though I've never been a huge Stones fan. But for the past couple of, I haven't been able to get "Brown Sugar" out of my head.

It started when I popped into our local coffee shop, Cafe Javasti, for a sip. Javasti is known for its house-made scones, coffee cakes, and muffins. And I profess they have the best cupcakes in town (move aside, Cupcake Royale and Trophy).

On that morning, Javasti's pastry case had a brown-sugar cupcake with some kind of cream frosting (in my memory, I think it was cream cheese, but it could have been whipped cream or even sour cream and still sound luscious). It was too early in the morning for me to think straight, so I left the shop with only my Americano. I'm kicking myself for not trying one of those cupcakes.

It got me thinking: why don't we use brown sugar as a featured ingredient? It's the only type of sugar I heap, directly from the bag, into my mouth. 

Its moist, sensual molasses flavor and delicate, crumbly texture is screaming for star power.

So, what to concoct?

• There are the classics, like sugar cookies. 
• Perhaps I'll work brown sugar into my daytime drinks, stirring it into espresso -- a little heavy-handed so it comes out thick and syrupy. 
• And maybe there's room for brown sugar in night-time drinks -- like a brown-sugar-based whiskey sour. 
• There's savory: a spicy brown-sugar glaze for salmon.
• And semi-sweet: strawberries dipped in sour cream then brown sugar.
• I also want to take a stab at some of those cupcakes -- visions of swirling brown sugar cakes dance in my head. 

What else would you suggest? It's up to us to set the next trendy, hot ingredient. Let's put brown sugar on center stage.

Breaking news: New Canlis contest!

Looks like those crafty Canlis brothers are at it again. Their chef, Jason Franey, is up for a Food + Wine magazine "Best New Chef" award. They're on the campaign trail, posting daily pictures to their Facebook/Twitter accounts with the guys wearing "vote for Jason" signboards. The black and white photos hark back to presidential campaigns of yore, emitting Don Draper cool.

But, according to a news tip today, there may be more than at first meets the eye. The folks at Eater.com claim there's Morse Code embedded in each photo, leading us to solve a new mystery. Some sort of "pop-up" restaurant headed by Franey. Whoever solves the clue first gets a free dinner.

Looks like it's time to get back in the game!

Sunny days...

I haven't seen this in quite a while:

It so inspired me that I took a walk, sipped a coffee, sauntered slowly home, then took 10 minutes in the Garden of Neglect to take care of unfinished business. Finally, on this 2nd day of February, my fall, close-up-shop work on last summer's garden is done.

Who wants to be outside in the rain and sleet, tugging out barren roots and breaking down tomato cages anyway?

This weather isn't atypical in Seattle. For at least a few days every February, the sun shines brightly, the clouds part, the blue sky spans, and we smile. Things come to life again.

I'm even planning a list of what to do (and what not to do) during this year's growing season. To start: some intoxicatingly sweet shrubbery outside the bedroom windows. My dream is to throw open the windows wide and let the aromas waft in. I've also got to do something about those raised beds (good idea, but not nearly deep enough). Maybe some hanging baskets?

And thanks to Punxsutawney Phil, it looks like spring is officially coming early. Here's to a new start!