Diana Takes a Bite

Pumpkin Swirl Brownies: The perfect thing to make with your male best friend's roommate

2009-11-10T09:00:00.000-08:00

When my best male friend/neighbor Hank told me he was getting a girl roommate last May, I was a teensy bit alarmed. I’m not ashamed to admit that, I, like many girls in my demographic, am the possessive sort. I don’t like it when my roommates use my tiny spoons or special mugs or tear my newspaper apart when they read it, and I don’t like it when my best friends are hijacked by other people.

The new roommate situation was especially disconcerting to me because I loved Hank and my one-on-one time at his apartment. We regularly got together to watch “How I Met Your Mother,” to order embarrassing movies like Twilight, and for me to rant and stew about the latest irritant in my life. I didn’t want some other girl interfering in our special time – laughing at all the wrong moments or talking right during the punch line of Tina Fey’s sandwich-related joke on “30 Rock.” It never occurred to me that I might actually like the intruder, and that we would immediately become good friends/Target buddies.

This past Thursday night, after a hard day working for the man, I hijacked my male friend’s roommate to make Esi’s (Dishing Up Delights) pumpkin swirl brownies. I crossed the street like I’ve done a hundred times, bounded up the stairs that I could ascend with my eyes closed, and strode into Erin’s – not Hank’s – apartment. I came bearing wine, flour, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, chocolate chips, baking powder, and an electric beater. She was ready for me with wine glasses, eggs, butter, pumpkin puree, bittersweet chocolate, parchment paper, and lots of utensils that we would subsequently make very dirty.

While Erin tackled the chocolate layer – which required melting butter and chocolate together in a double broiler (we used a glass bowl and a pot), I got started on the batter. We worked in tandem, deftly assisting the other without (completely) getting in each other’s ways. She measured out the pumpkin and oil for the pumpkin batter, I yelled at her for wanting to lick the bowl (but let her do it anyway because that’s what friends are for), and then we proudly assembled our pumpkin brownies layer by layer. Well, fine, just layer on top of layer – we both concluded that the chocolate layer, pumpkin layer, chocolate layer, pumpkin layer scenario was overkill. We’re rebels like that.

Erin and I were so busy baking and chatting and breaking recipe rules that we hardly noticed when Hank came home mid-way through our kitchen session. It was a striking moment for me. She wasn’t the intruder – he was. But we let him stick around for a few minutes anyway before he left for a party because apparently it is possible to be friends with more than one person.

Instead of accompanying Hank to the party like we both might have done in different circumstances, Erin and I parked it on the couch, watched “Modern Family,” “Community” and “30 Rock,” and picked at the pumpkin layer that we deemed superior to the chocolate layer in our brownies. It was a nice evening – a land mark event in our burgeoning friendship. Especially since neither of us laughed at the wrong moment or interrupted a punch line during any of the TV shows we watched.

Pumpkin Swirl Brownies
Adapted from Everyday Food via Dishing Up Delights

Makes 16 brownies

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, plus more for pan
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (Erin & I omitted because we don’t like spicy desserts)
1/2 teaspoon salt
Scant 1 1/2 cups sugar
4 large eggs
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups solid-pack pumpkin
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
*2/3 cup chocolate chips (Erin & my prescient addition)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch square baking pan or dish. Line bottom of pan with parchment paper; butter lining.

Melt chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl set over a pan of simmering water, stirring occasionally until smooth.

Whisk together flour, baking powder, cayenne, and salt in a large bowl; set aside. Put sugar, eggs, and vanilla in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; beat until fluffy and well combined, 3 to 5 minutes. Beat in flour mixture.

Divide batter between two medium bowls (about 2 cups per bowl). Stir chocolate mixture into one bowl. In other bowl, stir in pumpkin, oil, and cinnamon (we added the chocolate chips here!). Transfer half of chocolate batter to prepared pan smoothing top with a rubber spatula. Top with half of pumpkin batter. Repeat to make one more chocolate layer and one more pumpkin layer. Work quickly so batters don't set.

With a small spatula or a table knife, gently swirl the two batters to create a marbled effect.

Bake until set, 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool in pan on a wire rack.

Marché Moderne: Simply mahvelous, darling!

2009-11-09T09:00:00.000-08:00

The perfect lunch is not qualifiable by food alone. Yes, food is important, but there’s more to it than that. Little seemingly inconsequential details like cloth napkins. And comfortable chairs that don’t turn one’s backside numb. And table scrapers that collect up the bread crumbs from a warm, fragrant piece of French baguette.
Are these formal restaurant conveniences a requirement for the perfect midday meal? Not necessarily – my lunch at Ricky’s Fish Tacos was wonderful even without the proper utensils and products for wiping my mouth – but sometimes a lady needs to be treated as such. Especially if she spends any time in a Los Angeles bar.

When my mom and I arrived at Marché Moderne, a refined French bistro at South Coast Plaza in Orange County that many consider on par with the top restaurants in Los Angeles, my soul was haggard from a tough week up north. Despite the late hour – nearly 1:30 pm on Saturday – the restaurant still had a 15 minute wait time for a table. I felt bad making my already starving mother delay her lunch any further (I caught her sneaking a fun size Snicker’s bar before we left home), but my heart was set on dining at the highly-acclaimed restaurant.

Fortunately, I was able to lure my mom in with a promise to check out the Nordstrom’s sale next door while we waited. She was game. (Of course, she’s pretty much always game when it comes to pleasing her children.)

The sale proved to be a bust, so we quickly retreated back to the restaurant to gawk over the plates coming out of the kitchen instead. Oh how times have changed since my days of post-pubescent clothesession. On-sale Joe’s Jeans no longer thrill me like the sight of a scallop and shrimp salad with expertly sliced Persian cucumbers and avocado. My heart’s pitter patter continued to increase five-fold when my eyes fell upon pastry chef Ameliz Marneau’s prix fixe menu dessert – a dainty sliver of espresso cheesecake with a chocolate macaron crust.

“We may have to get dessert.” I whispered to my mom, my lips already parting with great gastronomical expectation.

As soon as we were seated at a corner cabana on the covered patio outside, all the concerns that had plagued me during the week finally weaned themselves from my body. The tranquil setting, the ambient background noise from our fellow diners’ quiet conversations, and the personable service tempered the neurotic whirring in my head.

Or at least the neurotic whirring as it relates to my social and professional life. (No amount of tranquility can keep me from fretting over what I’m going to order.)

At our exceedingly pleasant server’s recommendation, it –shockingly—didn’t take me long to decide upon the Santa Monica McGrath Family Farm beet salad with pinenuts, orange, goat cheese, and petit basil ($11). My mother opted for the light Market Greens with red wine vinaigrette, toasted walnut oil, cucumbers, and avocado ($7); and then we requested the Alsatian Tart Flambee with caramelized onion, smoke ham, crème fraiche, and cave aged Gruyere ($13) to share.

The time that lapsed between ordering and biting allowed my mom and I plenty of time to discuss my week’s affairs – the lame pick-up lines I received at my friend’s birthday party the night before (“Have you been here before?”), and my sitcom-worthy experience driving out to Intelligentsia Venice specifically for a cup of chai only to discover that they were out.

We enjoyed the pause – the time we were gifted to share a special moment with each other, but our lips were quickly silenced upon receipt of our meal.

While my beet salad with its creamy streaks of mild goat cheese was the type of affair that reminds me that I actually do like beets (apparently the chef marinates them immediately after they’ve been roasted), the Alsatian Tart Flambee is worth a repeat drive down the 405 from LA. The tender yeasty crust (essentially pizza dough), the sweet caramelized onions, and decadent comforter of crème fraiche and Gruyere were transformative for my bad mood.

“I want to take really small bites to make it last longer,” My mom confided. “The onions are so good.”

I nodded in agreement – also taking my time to cut each of my two slices into the smallest pieces possible. It was far too delicious to scarf down like my Amy’s frozen pizzas.

My mom and I concluded the meal just as I had hoped we would – with the espresso cheesecake ($8) from the 3-course lunch tasting menu that changes daily. Paired with a cup of the restaurant’s custom blend of coffee for my mom, and a pot of green tea for me, it was the perfect ending for our perfect indulgent ladies lunch. I can’t wait to have another bad week so I have an excuse to go back.

Marché Moderne
3333 Bristol St # 3001
Costa Mesa, CA‎

Phone: (714) 434-7900‎

Intelligentsia: Why I will never order coffee there again

2009-11-06T09:00:00.000-08:00

Can I do it? I think as I approach the barista at Intelligentsia Coffee & Tea in Silver Lake on Saturday afternoon.

Can I actually order chai at a place renowned for its coffee?

I scrunch my face up and nudge my friend Anna. “So you’re getting a mocha?”

“Yep. Definitely in a mocha mood.” She answers confidently.

“Right.” I respond dully.

Am I in a mocha mood? I wonder, attempting to tap into my innermost cravings.

I think about the lingering aftertaste – the foul smell that will penetrate my tongue after I drink it. No, I don’t want coffee breath today, I decide. I want something sweet and spicy, but not too spicy. Perfectly spicy. With lots of foam.

I want a chai.

“So the chai is… err… good here?” I ask when I approach the counter.

“Yep.” The barista responds.

I nod at his noncommittal response. Duh Diana. Of course he’s going to say that. He isn’t exactly going to tell you it sucks! I berate myself.

“Okay, I’ll have the chai then.” I answer firmly after a moment’s hesitation. “Oh and can I get that with skim milk? Please?”

He nods, I smile sheepishly and then move away quickly before I start embarrassing myself any further.

“Chai?” Asks the other barista responsible for whipping up the drinks.

“That’s me!” I pipe up enthusiastically.

“Love the chai here.” He responds as he steers my brimming porcelain white cup and saucer across the counter.

I beam at him. “Really?! Because I wasn’t sure if I should get it…” I pause, glance at the long line of people behind me and cut myself off. “Right. Very good. Thank you!”

Anna and I find seats at the counter inside and I steel myself for disappointment. I’m picky when it comes to my chai. I prefer it to be sweet and milky rather than overly spicy, and it must must must be served with an ample layer of frothy foam.

I take a tentative first sip. A smile bursts across my face as the well-balanced chai saturates my tongue with flavor.

“It’s good!” I tell Anna with pride – clearly my act of ordering it has made it so.

I continue to rave until the subject grows wearisome, and then we move on to more serious matters like all the things I want to buy from the Cheese Store of Silver Lake next door.

“I think I want to get the ‘Ants on a log’ chocolate and maybe the Morning Glory chai cashew brittle. Or should I get the peanut fleur de sel flavor? Is it silly to spend $5.95 on three pieces of brittle?” I start rattling off as Anna sits quietly sipping her mocha.

Just another day in the life...

Intelligentsia Coffee & Tea
3922 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90029-2242

(323) 663-6173

Channeling Robin on Top Chef: A quinoa beet salad fail

2009-11-04T09:00:00.000-08:00

I stare down at the mess on my fancy square white Crate & Barrel plate with slight apprehension.

It’s certainly… colorful.

I shake my head and dive my fork into the massive heap of roasted beets, quinoa, orange segments, roasted shallots, pomegranate seeds, arugula, feta cheese, and roasted chickpeas. I know before I even taste it that I’ve gone overboard with the ingredients. There are too many competing flavors and textures for my poor little mouth to handle. Despite my best efforts to make the ultimate fall quinoa salad, it’s a recipe fail.

It isn’t until the next day that I realize what exactly went wrong. I’m standing in my bathroom, brushing my teeth like I do every morning (I like a clean mouth), and it hits me.

I pulled a Robin on “Top Chef.”

I’ve gotten lots of giggles out of poking fun at the poor, slightly spastic cheftestant this season, but, ultimately, I’m not exactly making heads turn with all of my dishes either.

Just like Robin got overly excited about all the produce available for her to use during last week’s “Top Chef” elimination challenge at Craftsteak, I too got overly excited about all the ingredients I wanted to use in my salad. I was acting like a kid in a candy store at Whole Foods on Sunday – eyes bugging out over… well, everything.

The whole thing started because I was inspired by Gastronomy Blog’s recent post about how to roast beets. Cathy made the process sound so easy, and my mind immediately began composing a hearty salad with beets, orange segments and quinoa.

It would have been fine and dandy if I’d stuck to just a few basic flavors – namely, the beets, the orange segments, the quinoa, some feta, and the light vinaigrette dressing I made with orange juice, apple cider vinegar and honey – but I took it too far. The roasted chickpeas were particularly off-putting. The crunchy texture was a distraction rather than a delicious contrast to the tender beets. The peas were certainly not worth all the effort it took to peel the pesky skins off prior to roasting.

Fortunately, not all was lost. The salad was an antioxidant powerhouse, and I successfully roasted beets without staining my hands or, more importantly, scalding a good chunk of my arm like I did when I made pumpkin cookies the weekend prior. I just wish I liked beets as much as I think I do in my head. I ended up gifting the rest of my beet supply to my roommate last night. He quickly whipped up a dressing with Dijon mustard, olive oil and raspberry vinegar, and ate the beets sans any other accompaniment. I’m sure they tasted far better this way than they did when I blurred their flavor out with chickpeas and feta and oranges and arugula and pomegranate seeds and shallots on Sunday night.

For simple instructions on roasting beets check out Gastronomy Blog’s helpful how-to post.

Cube: My new essential restaurant

2009-11-03T09:00:00.000-08:00

I’ve run by the restaurant at least a hundred times. I’ve probably driven by it a thousand times. I’ve read reviews, pored over the menu and even suggested it to others looking for a bite in my West Hollywood neighborhood.

Given my proximity and enthusiasm for the charming Italian café/cheese bar/marketplace that imports high-quality food products like a semi-soft raclette cheese from Switzerland, it would seem impossible that I haven’t actually eaten there. I like food. I love Italian. And I adore perusing marketplaces filled with hard-to-find grains like farro and (cough cough) quinoa, as well as tiny jars of expensive oils and specialty jams.

I knew I would love Cube Café and Marketplace before I even stepped foot in the casually hip space on La Brea Avenue last Thursday night – and not just because it has received Tony C. of Sino Soul’s hard-earned seal of approval. My only fear was that my high expectations were setting me up for inevitable disappointment. In a sense, Cube seemed almost too good to be true – it didn’t seem possible for there to be a reasonably priced restaurant of this quality within walking distance of my apartment. I’m not that lucky – even if I did win the (now seriously out of style) Kate Spade purse at my high school graduation nine years ago.

Despite the rain cloud of hype that was threatening to burst upon my first meal at the restaurant, my dining experience at Cube on Thursday was one of those rare nights when everything clicks. Looking back now, it almost seems a blur – like a distant memory or a dream that didn’t really happen – and not because of the amount of complimentary Prosecco or the bottle of 2006 Barbera d’Asti “Montebruna,” Braida ($44) that we drank over the course of our three hour evening.

It’s no big mystery that I’ve been making horrible ordering decisions lately. Even this weekend, I made a wrong move at my favorite Pizzeria Mozza when I selected the clam pie for my entrée (I’m still pining over the chanterelles, fontina, scallions, pancetta & thyme pizza). At Cube on Thursday night, however, horrible ordering decisions didn’t seem to exist. Or at least they didn’t for my party of four. Every dish we ordered – which included a formaggi e salumi plate, three shared appetizers, three entrees, three sides, two additional pasta dishes, and four desserts – was a “winner.” Yes, some dishes outshone others, but there wasn’t a single one deserving of a “dunce” hat or a “time out” in the corner.

From the lush pillow of mimmo’s burratta with charred greens, swiss chard, heirloom tomatoes, roasted cipilloni onions, and aged balsamic ($14), to the fork-tender apple balsamic braised bacon with Italian white figs, celery root mash ($12), to the braised baby octopus with charred radicchio, cipillini onion marmelata ($8) that could (almost) rival the tasty tentacles at the big O Mozza down the street, our appetizers were seamlessly executed. I could continue to wax poetic about the rest of our courses – in particular my tender gnocchi with braised oxtail ragu, red cow parmesan ($13), but it seems beside the point. Plus, there are only so many synonyms for “delicious” and “yummy,” as Rachael Ray knows all too well.

Cube may not have found a place on Jonathan Gold’s list of 99 Essential LA Restaurants this past year, but it has found a place on my essential LA restaurant list – for the flawless service, for the well-prepared seasonally-inspired menu, and for, most importantly, not making me kick myself for ordering the wrong thing. I recommend… everything pictured below. Especially the octopus, braised bacon, gnocchi, and pumpkin ice cream pie. Just be sure to make an appointment with the physical trainer for the morning after.

Cube Café and Marketplace
615 N. La Brea Avenue
Los Angeles, California 90036
Phone: (323) 939-1148, x.1
Fax: 323-939-5520

Formaggi e salumi plate

Mimmo’s burrata - charred greens, swiss chard, veggies, heirloom tomato, roasted cipollini onions, aged balsamic ($14)

Braised baby octopus - charred radicchio, cipollini onion marmelata ($8)

Apple balsamic braised bacon with Italian white figs, celery root mash ($12)

Ricotta & Kabocha squash gnocchi brown butter, sage, toasted hazelnuts ($9)

Chestnut quadrucci roasted chestnuts, bacon, brown butter, white wine, chestnut honey, pecorino $10/$14

Gnocchi with braised oxtail ragu, red cow parmesan $13/$9

Seasonal greens ($6)

Roasted sunchokes ($6)

Fresh strangozzi with spicy lamb & fennel ragu, pecorino $10/$14

Fall spiced duck breast roasted cauliflower puree, seasonal greens $23

Baked 4 cheese mac and cheese with charred heirloom tomato, truffle salt $8

Cobbler duo Tahitian vanilla gelato - D’anjou pear and blackberry & raspberry $8

Bread pudding & fresh fig compote and fresh cream $8Pumpkin ice cream pie with fresh cream, toasted pumpkin seeds $8

Valrhona chocolate olive oil cake with hazelnut semifreddo, chocolate sauce $8

Pizzeria Mozza: Where chicken livers are a treat, not a trick

2009-11-02T09:00:00.000-08:00

When Cathy, “The Gastronomer,” declared she wanted to order chicken liver bruschetta ($9) as one of our shared appetizers at Pizzeria Mozza on Saturday night, I was a bit hesitant.

Okay, fine, I was horrified.

I do attempt to keep an open mind about food, and have enjoyed other kinds of liver in the past (hello foie gras croque monsieur), but chicken livers sounded… well, like cat food. Or like something the mom of a robust family is forced to eat because all the bratty kids call dibs on the legs and thighs and breast meat.

Despite my reservations, I shrugged my shoulders and went with it. We were at Pizzeria Mozza after all, and, as far as I’m concerned, the resto can do no harm. (Except when they run out of the seasonal pumpkin gelato at the precise moment that I try to order it for dessert. Wah wah.)

At first, I was relieved when I saw that the bruschetta came with only three pieces. That meant that two in our party of four would have to split one, and I wouldn’t have to attempt to choke down more than four lady-like bites if I found it repulsive. Unfortunately, my clever plan to shun as much chicken liver as possible was foiled as soon as I bit into my half of bruschetta. It was delicious. So delicious that I spent the next couple minutes enviously watching Cathy and her fiancee Vern devour the rest of their full pieces with audible sighs of pleasure.

Along with the chicken livers, our table also ordered another antipasti I’d never tried at the resto before – the Brussels sprouts with prosciutto breadcrumbs ($12). While we expected the Brussels to be served warm, we ultimately loved the combination of the room temperature green veggies that were tossed with a generous serving of a tangy balsamic vinegar-based dressing before being topped off with the texturally pleasing breadcrumbs.
Later, as I took charge on the clams, garlic, oregano, parmigiano, and pecorino pizza that I’ve enjoyed on a previous occasion (I actually found it to be a little fishy for my tastes on Saturday), my favorite bartender/server Sean stopped by to say “hello.”

“Still good?” He asked with a smile.

“Still good!” I said and beamed back – thrilled to be there instead of with the crazies on Santa Monica Blvd. for the Halloween parade.

After he’d departed from our table, Cathy leaned in to whisper, “I can see why this is your favorite restaurant.”

I nodded in agreement. Even with the occasional misfire, Pizzeria Mozza still never fails to surprise, challenge and trick me into delighting in something new. I can’t wait to go back for visit #9 -- next up, bone marrow.

Pizzeria Mozza
641 N Highland Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90036
(323) 866-5300

Skor Bar Coffee Cake: The perfect mid-morning pick-me-up

2009-10-30T09:00:00.000-07:00

The teacher’s lounge at an elementary school is a dangerous place for dieters. My mom, a first grade teacher in Garden Grove, is constantly telling me about the treats that her coworkers bring in on a regular basis.

“Today someone brought donuts!” She’ll exclaim, as giddy as the students she teaches. (Her sweet tooth is almost as potent as mine.)

I typically roll my eyes and say, “Great, mom,” before changing the subject to something more important – like what I’m making for dinner or how hard “thigh” was during my Bar Method class that night. As a 9 to 5 office dweller, I don’t quite understand how necessary that mid-morning burst of sugar is for getting through a day of educating rugrats with short attention spans.

As much as my mom loves her raised glazed donuts, her favorite pick-me-up from the teacher’s lounge is actually the Skor Bar Coffee Cake one of her former colleagues used to make on special occasions. My mom enjoyed the cake so much that she eventually got the recipe so she could make it for my brothers and me at home. It was an instant favorite in our house – especially when it was still warm and gooey from the oven.

Today, the Skor Bar Coffee Cake is my go-to recipe when I need an easy crowd-pleasing treat for a party or office celebration. It’s not hard to see why everyone loves this cake – it contains a pound of brown sugar and six Skor candy bars. Paula Deen would certainly approve, but I’m not sure any nutritionist would go near the thing.

Regardless, when insulin levels get low, the Skor Bar Coffee Cake will come through every time. Just don’t feed it to the rugrats – they won’t just be bouncing off the walls, they’ll be bouncing off the roof.

Skor Bar Coffee Cake

1 lb dark brown sugar
2 cups flour
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
6 Skor (or Heath) bars, broken into pieces
1 cup of milk (I used skim)
1 egg
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Using a fork, blend the dark brown sugar with the flour and softened cube of butter. Set aside 1 cup of the crumb mixture for the topping.

To rest of flour/sugar mixture, add the milk, egg, baking soda and vanilla. Gently fold together the ingredients until well-combined and then pour into ungreased 9 x 13 pan. Top with crumb mixture and then finish with Heath bar pieces.

Bake for 30 to 40 minutes (mine was down at 35 minutes). Test for doneness with a toothpick.

Top Chef Season 6, Episode 10: Fallen heroes

2009-10-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

This is it folks. Only seven remain in the “Top Chef” Vegas house and the chefs are starting to crack under the pressure. Even Jenn C. who I thought subsisted on a diet of baby’s tears and men’s testacles is buckling. It’s like Paranormal Activity and all that jazz – almost makes me wonder if some demonic presence is preying on her ability to cook yummy things. Is it Mike? Eli? Toby Young?!?

The only chef who doesn’t seem nervous about going home is Robin. “[She’s] really happy with how restaurant wars worked out.” Translation: She’s really glad she was on a team with the Volts and Eli so they could carry her through to the next round. But she knows she’s “here for a reason” (to piss off Mike?) and truly believes she’s holding her own. If holding her own means being in the bottom for eight different challenges. Mike I. would send himself home if he had that record. But Robin? Oh no, she’s just so darn proud of herself! Hooray for just skating by! Think she can get a bumper sticker for that one?

For this week’s Quickfire Challenge, Padma is sporting yet another onesie. Made of denim. Can someone please arrange a “Top Chef”/”Project Runway” cross-over show where the designers create new looks for Padma that do not involve jumpsuits and big belt buckles? Note to her stylist: Denim onesies is not making it work.

Standing next to fashion disaster Padma is guest judge Paul Bartolotta, who has apparently won multiple James Beard awards and is one of the top Italian chefs in the country. Just to be clear – he’s kind of a big deal, but I still am not quite sure who he is or how he relates to this particular challenge. For this week’s TV Guide Quickfire, the chefs are charged with reinventing a classic TV dinner inspired by an iconic TV show. The chefs draw knives for their shows, which include “The Flintstones,” “Gilligan’s Island,” “Seinfeld,” “Mash,” “The Sopranos,” “Sesame Street,” and “Cheers,” and then have 60 minutes to prepare their dishes.

Robin never watched TV as a kid and eats health food so is, as usual, sort of clueless, Jenn is excited about drawing “the Flintstones” because she relates to Pebble; who has a cute little boyfriend named Bam Bam who carries a club around and pulls her by her hair (should we be concerned?); and Kevin admits that he has “a little bit of a soft spot for a well-prepared frozen meal.” A little bit of a soft spot, Kevin? C’mon now, be honest, Red Beard! I know those love handles aren’t there because you are so darn endearing! Though I suppose it is possible. Does Grandma really still make your family breakfast every morning? Soooo cute!

After much running around, the chefs present their TV dinners to Paul and Padma. Jenn knows she’s in trouble, and America knows that Robin’s in trouble because, well, she’s Robin. The two ladies land in the bottom – Jenn for her chicken roulade with garlic cream sauce, and Robin for her burger with an egg and crispy kale. Paul tells Robin, “It was not special.” Ya proud now, Motor Mouth?

Kevin Red Beard’s meatballs with polenta and roasted cauliflower ultimately bests Bryan’s meatloaf with mashed potatoes, and he wins yet another challenge. This time, the prize isn’t immunity. Instead, a version of Kevin’s dish will be featured in the new line of “Top Chef” frozen foods! He’s excited – and he really wants his face to be on it so he can make Grandma proud. He’s totally gonna be the next Chef Boyardee. Beefy.

For the elimination challenge, the chefs will again be tasked with taking over an institution – this time with Tom’s restaurant Craftsteak at the MGM Grand. They will each create a dish using the products stocked in the kitchen for the four judges (Tom, Gail, Padma and Paul) and seven other still to be named guests. Everyone is super pumped about using lots of meat – especially Kevin who says, “Cooking meat is me in my element.” Smile. Yes, we know, Kevin.

Of course, it wouldn’t be “Top Chef” without a surprise twist, and this week’s is a doozy. The surprise guest is Natalie Portman and guess what guys? She’s a vegetarian! For the slow, that means she doesn’t eat meat. No steak. No pork. No Mary had a little lamb. Mike isn’t worried though. He has like 20 vegetarian dishes on his menu. Plus, he looks way pumped to be cooking for Natalie. His eyes are all bugging out. He loooooves her. So does Eli, but only because she was in Star Wars which is like “the most important thing you can do.” I mean seriously, could the guy be any more of a cliché? A 26-year-old who lives with his parents, wears black t-shirts like Padma wears onesies, and loves Star Wars? Let me guess, he also reads comic books and cries baby tears while listening to indie rock and emo music.

Robin is happy as a little clam to be cooking veggie (apparently, vegetarians are people too), and is flipping out over all the produce. Fresh garbanzo beans, and squash and beets – she just can’t take the excitement and is, as usual, talking herself into a tizzy. She commands herself, “Oh brain, c’mon work.” And suddenly America knows why she never stops talking! It’s so obvious now! Her brain filter doesn’t work!

Eli is feeling confident tonight – especially since he scored the good eggplants that he and Jenn flipped a dehydrated orange peel for. Poor Pebbles. She just can’t win lately. I sort of want to reach out and give her ponytail a good yank for encouragement. Maybe bop her on the head a few times with a club for good measure? She’s really not so happy about her small eggplants. Gosh darn that Eli! The force is clearly with him tonight – even Michael Volt who is doing crazy stuff with polenta and bananas tells him he’s doing a good job.

It’s a scramble to get dishes plated for the judges, and even Bryan is flustered by the time crunch. It’s a first for the man of few words and almost no personality (except when fighting with his brother). His steady hand is shaking – but not as badly as Jenn’s. When she nervously begins serving the verjus over her charred eggplant with braised fennel and tomatoes for the table, the sauce splashes all over the place. It’s not a good sign for Pebbles.

MV(P) is on the other side of the confidence spectrum with his fancy asparagus with Japanese tomato sashimi and banana polenta. He thinks that “Natalie Portman will walk away from this dish scratching her head and saying I don’t know why I liked that, but I just did.” It’s pretty much a lovefest at the table. Someone calls him Picasso, Natalie is smiling and laughing like a giddy school girl who went to Florida State instead of Harvard, and Paul, the Italian master, is befuddled by the banana in his polenta. He’s sort of a funny guy that Paul. I’d sort of like to keep him around to take surly Toby’s place more often.

Natalie’s words of wisdom are less… compelling. She likes Robin’s dish because she “loved looking at it;” she really wanted to like Mike I.’s undercooked leeks with onion jus, baby carrot purree and fingerling potatoes, because she loves leeks and purple is her favorite color; and describes Bryan’s dish as “lemony!” and “spicy!” Maybe Eli was right? Star Wars was the best thing she did? I think Harvard needs to give her money back. And I think I’d like it if Padma stopped making sexual references at the dining table. A little prick in the mouth? This is “Top Chef” -- not “The Hills!”

Judge’s table is a foregone conclusion. Michael, Eli and Kevin are on top, and Kevin Red Beard wins again for his duo of mushrooms, smoked kale, candied garlic and turnips, which Tom says didn’t make him miss meat at all. He scores some GE appliances and responds with a very unenthusiastic “Okay.” (He really just wants his face on frozen food.) Michael V. is not happy about Kevin’s win. “I could have made that dish in 20 minutes.” He scoffs. Sore loser is not a very cute look for the handsome chef. Has another of my “Top Chef” heroes fallen from grace?

Mike I., Robin and Jenn are predictably on the bottom. Robin babbles on about how she’s never worked with fresh garbanzo beans and squash blossoms before (a super smart way to prove to the judges that she deserves to stay), Jenn is one step away from slitting her throat with one of her knives for serving “a garnish,” and Mike is as smug as ever. Which of course means he’s doomed. He’s sent packing for his arrogant attitude, undercooked leeks and lack of protein. Before he goes, he makes sure to dole out one last shot of Robin haterade – “It’s just her food and her style and she’s always in the bottom…”

Sigh. Oh Mike, we won’t miss you one bit.

Pumpkin White Chocolate Chip Cookies: A recipe for disaster (and burned arms)

2009-10-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

The e-mails came fast and furious yesterday.

“Seriously -- you should market these yummy treats!! I’m savoring every bite….”

“What a great birthday event, Diana. I’d love to get the recipes.”

“Seriously, I need that cookie recipe!!! Sooooo good!”

“Such a NICE treat to have homemade goodies from such a pro!”

I reveled in their praise of the pumpkin cookies and Skor bar coffee cake I made for an office birthday party, but at the same time felt a little disingenuous. If they knew what I went through to bake the darn pumpkin cookies nobody would think I was a “pro.” The whole affair was prime material for a sitcom called “Undomestic Goddess” – starring me, the perpetually flawed, cookie sheet burn victim.

First there was the unnecessarily complicated gathering of supplies. I went to Target to get a cooling rack (the racks from my roommate’s toaster oven just weren’t going to cut it anymore), to Trader Joe’s to get dried cranberries and walnuts, then finally to Gelson’s to get white chocolate chips, unsalted butter, ground cloves, and pumpkin puree.

Hitch number one came when I discovered that my preferred brand of spice was charging $11 a jar for ground cloves. Cloves were immediately nixed from the recipe.

Hitch number two came when I was half-way back to my apartment and realized that I’d forgotten the pumpkin (kind of essential for pumpkin cookies).

And hitch number three came when I discovered that my Gelson’s only has the jumbo 4-cup cans of pumpkin puree in stock – 3 cups more than I needed for my recipe. I shuddered away my pangs of guilt (I hate to waste food), and charged toward the register. At this point, it was already 3:30 pm on Sunday, and I still had to allow at least 40 minutes for the butter to soften at room temperature.

The actual preparation of the batter went fine. I love carefully measuring out ingredients and seeing all the raw food products come together into something that will eventually be edible. Everything was going rather swimmingly until I started to bake the cookies.

The first two batches came out without issue. The batter was difficult to work with because of its sticky consistency, but I still had no trouble getting the cookies in and out of the oven sans mishap. The problem came with the third batch. By this juncture in the afternoon (5 pm), I just wanted to get the whole production over and done with so I could do something mindless like stare at a wall or watch last week’s episode of “The City.” For the first two sheets, I had played by the rules and only baked eight cookies at time, but in my rush to get the cookies finished, I decided to cram the last thirteen on one sheet.

Not so smart.

The additional cookies, plus the cooler temperature of the batter (I refrigerated it between batches), wrecked complete havoc on the standard 11 – 14 minute baking time. They weren’t done after 14 minutes. Or after 15 minutes. I finally took them out at 16 minutes, and then popped my Skor bar coffee cake in the oven in their place, only to realize a few minutes later that the cookies still weren’t done. Frustrated, I shoved the cookie sheet back in the oven on the rack underneath the coffee cake.

I checked on them 3 minutes later – thinking that they’d for sure be done, but the darn cookies were still gooey in the center! I left them out lest I compromise the integrity of my coffee cake, as well, and decided to just put them back in after the cake was ready. Which I did.

For another four minutes.

The cookies finally looked done at this point, but four lone cookies still refused to bake through completely – even after I separated them from the cooperative ones and put them back in the oven. Finally, after three more minutes of unproductive baking time, I took the still soggy cookies out.

And burned my arm.

Not just a little burn, like the ones that are perpetually lining the insides of my wrists. Oh no, this kind of burn elicits cries of concern, “What happened to your arm?!”

One inch long, 1/3rd inch wide and a shade of purple that doesn’t go with any of my cute dresses from Anthropologie, the burn is like a scarlet letter.

“Diana is not a domestic goddess. Diana is not a domestic goddess at all!” It says.

Fortunately, my roommates were nonplused by the half-raw centers of the four errant cookies and eagerly devoured them before I could introduce them to the trash can. Their praise assured me that I could serve the cookies to my coworkers the following day, and I excitedly brought the fruits of my exhaustive labor to work the next morning.

Only to discover that the party was cancelled.

The shindig finally went down yesterday morning, but I couldn’t help but smile when my officemates applauded me for the cookies. “If only they knew,” I thought, as I fingered the sweater material covering my burn. “If only they knew…”

Pumpkin White Chocolate Chip Cookies
Adapted from recipe on VeryBestBaking.com

1 cup (2 sticks butter)
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 cup pumpkin
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves (I omitted)
3/4 cup toasted walnuts
3/4 cup dried cranberries
1 (12 oz) package white chocolate chips

Beat softened butter (I let come to room temperature rather than melting in microwave) with sugar. Add egg, pumpkin, vanilla and beat until well-combined.

In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, cinnamon so it is light in texture. Gently fold into pumpkin mixture. Add walnuts, cranberries, white chocolate chips. (Original recipe called for macadamia nuts instead of walnuts and omitted the cranberries - so feel free to play with it according to your preferences!) Once combined, use a spoon to create golf-ball sized cookies -- bake no more than 8 at a time to ensure they cook evenly. (Note: Batter will be very sticky. It will be easier to work with if you refrigerate it for at least 30 minutes prior to baking, but you will need to increase the baking time accordingly.)

Bake on greased cookie sheet for 11 - 14 minutes at 350 degrees. (Mine took approximately 14 minutes due to the girthier size!) Allow to cool 2 minutes before removing from sheet and cooling on wire rack. (Definitely don't skip this step -- the cookies are very fragile when they come out of the oven and need a few minutes to set.)

Makes approximately 30 cookies.

Gyenari: Hello Korean BBQ, it's nice to meet your acquintance

2009-10-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

As much as I love my hometown, Newport Beach, I’m the first to admit that it has a few shortcomings. Not many -- who doesn’t love living five minutes from the beach in one of the most beautiful places in the country? – but it is far from perfect, particularly in terms of the dining scene.

While Orange County has opened up some great new restaurants in recent years, when I was growing up, my family and I frequented the chain circuit – Chili’s and Coco’s when I was a tike, and PF Chang’s and Cheesecake Factory when I grew in my big girl teeth. As such, I didn’t get many opportunities to stretch my palate – even when we did go out for special occasion dinners at the Five Crowns or Villa Nova in Corona del Mar.

My rather limited gastro-education as a youngster is part of the reason I have not been exposed to ethnic and/or exotic cuisine (the other part involves my… err… picky tendencies). Despite my proclamations that I am passionate about food (ie. my name belongs under the hateful header “foodie”), I have an embarrassingly long roster of things I’ve never eaten before – Korean BBQ being one of them.

It’s not that I’ve been opposed to noshing on KBBQ. I like meat, I like barbecue and I clearly like to cook, but somehow, the opportunity never came up. Or at least it didn’t until I received an invitation to attend a complimentary blogger dinner at Gyenari, an upscale Korean BBQ restaurant in Culver City last Wednesday night.
While my fellow bloggers, who frequent Koreatown to get their BBQ on, were a little leery of chowing down at a place in Culver City, I couldn’t have been more excited. I knew Gyenari would be the perfect spot for me to acquaint myself with this type of cuisine. It would be a way to sort of ease myself in without having to completely dive in at a K-town location that tantalizes its more seasoned diners with menu items like diaphragm, small intestine or pork neck. As I told the gastro-adventurous Tony of Sino Soul in a recent e-mail, “D takes a B does NOT eat diaphragm, intestine or neck.”**

At least not yet. After my successful meal at Gyenari, I may be willing to go for some of that neck business… (but only if it tastes like chicken)

Over the course of our three hour dinner at Gyenari hosted by the charming owner William Shin and general manager Jimmy Jang, we were accosted with a seemingly never-ending stream of plates and shared platters. Korean BBQ is not for those who like to keep their food close to their vest – this is family-style dining at its finest. Lesson #1 of the night: Leave the food wenches at home. Everybody be grubbin’ on those pork belly skewers.

There were definite hits and (a few) misses for me – as is to be expected when trying something new. Even though my drink of choice is always always always wine, I was unduly impressed with the restaurant’s signature cocktail – the soju caipirinha made with fresh lime, raspberries, muddled lychee, soju, and a splash of soda. The well-balanced drink (with a flavor profile that resembled the smoothies my dad used to make me as a kid) is something I’d actually order again – even if weren’t free for the taking. I can picture myself meeting a Westsider for cocktails and gossip on Gyenari’s patio in the future – and maybe noshing on a few beef skewers as well if we aren’t trying to go Hollywood liquid diet.

As for the food (kind of the point of a blogger dinner), I loved the Duk Boki, pan fried rice cylinders with onions and Korean Chile Paste that are texturally similar to mochi (ie. chewy and carbolicious), and also enjoyed the shrimp, vegetable and mung bean jeons with the shoyu scallion dipping sauce. The tiny fried cakes were perfectly executed -- not overly breaded and bursting with plump shrimp and veggies, and I appreciated that they weren’t saturated with oil.

The Pear and Shiso Salad with flashed rib eye and shabu sesame dressing was another of my favorite dishes of the evening. The texture of the beef was off-putting to me from afar (ie. from behind my camera lens), but the succulent strips of beef were ultimately a winner for me, and I loved the fresh greens and pear in the salad that helped temper the richness of the beef.

My favorite items of the night, however, were the Japchae (glass noodles with stir fried with thinly sliced veggies and beef) and the Galbee (tender slices of marinated beef short ribs) that we were meant to cook on the grill with our other proteins – bulgogi (typically a prime cut of beef), aged pork belly and flower chicken. While the diners to our right and left grilled their own meat, our section of the table didn’t have grilling capabilities and received our meat already cooked. I was fine with this development – I stove it up so much at home that the last thing I want to do when I go out is cook more. Even if I may have had a less “authentically” Korean BBQ experience because of it.

Dishes that didn’t quite ease my transition from Korean BBQ newbie to a Korean BBQ lover included the pumpkin porridge with toasted pine nuts and soju sautéed dates, and the kimchee chagae and rice (a traditional Korean kimchee stew). Even with the sweet dates, the overall composition of the porridge was a bit unbalanced by the savory elements, and while my companions told me it is considered a traditional dish, it did not seem to complement the rest of the menu.

We capped off our evening with Spicy Chocolate Crème Brulee with bacon shortbread and almond cream, and Green Tea Beignets with chocolate mint drizzle. Despite my adoration for anything that contains the word “chocolate” and “cream,” ultimately, I was too full to dig very far into my brulee. I did make sure to clean the almond cream off the top, however, – one is never too maxed out for a little poof of delicately flavored whipped cream.

Despite some minor hiccups, my overall experience at Gyenari was unequivocally positive. It was the perfect environment for an introduction to the cuisine, especially since I was surrounded by diners who were eager to explain, for example, why we were receiving bowls of potato salad, pickled cucumbers, kimchee, bean sprouts, and broccoli with our meat course (they are free accompaniments – “banchan” – that can be replenished at any time).

By the end of the night, Gyenari whetted my appetite for more Korean BBQ. Maybe not for diaphragm**, but in time, I may (at my more adventurous friends’ urgings) have my way with some pork neck.

Gyenari
9540 Washington Blvd
Culver City, CA 90232
Phone: (310) 838-3131

**Addendum: Apparently, D takes a B does "do" diaphragm. According to trusted foodie sources, diaphragm is also referred to as skirt steak and hangar steak -- two cuts of beef that I have enjoyed on many occasions.

Valerie Confections Fall Open House: Go ahead, experience life

2009-10-26T20:55:00.002-07:00

Tonight, at the Valerie Confections Press Preview Event and Party, I learned something. Not that there is a limit to how much chocolate one person can eat (there isn’t), but that Kelly Cutrone’s assertion on “The City” that “LA has weather; NY has life,” is not as accurate as I first suspected. LA has life – one just has to be willing to go after it.

This week, Valerie Confections, located at 3360 West 1st St. (at the intersection of Virgil and Beverly Blvd.) is holding a free Fall Open House for the public to come in and sample their treats. Each day will feature a different confection – like the amazing Blum’s Coffee Crunch Cake that I, after tasting tonight, am seriously considering for my wedding cake. That is if I ever meet my foodie soul mate (requirements include a love of chocolate, cheese and things that have faces).
I highly encourage my fellow Los Angeles eaters to take advantage of this incredible opportunity to experience “life.” Or at least a sweet toother’s version of “life.” Cancel that Bar Method class (I did tonight!), blow off that downer friend who always whines about her hipster boyfriend who just can’t commit, put off that TPS report till another day, and go check out one of the events at Valerie Confections this week (Tuesday, October 27th – Saturday, October 31st). I guarantee that if the delightful owners Valerie Gordon and Stan Weightman don’t brighten up your day, one of their specialty gourmet toffees or salt and pepper truffles will.

Check back later this week for a more comprehensive D takes a B report of Valerie’s offerings.

Fall Open House Calendar of Events

Tuesday, October 27th

Blum’s Coffee Crunch Cake and Blum’s Lemon Crunch Cake

10 am to 6 pm

The Open House Week begins in earnest with a sampling of two of our most popular cakes—the Blum’s Coffee Crunch Cake and the Blum’s Lemon Crunch Cake. The Coffee Crunch Cake was created for a Los Angeles Times Magazine story on wedding cakes. Almost immediately Valerie began receiving scores of calls from native Californians who fondly remembered the now defunct Blum’s Bakery and their signature crunch cakes. Valerie Confections is pleased to have brought these cakes back to fans old and new. Visitors to our boutique will be treated to a free slice of either flavor.

Wednesday, October 28th

Everyday Indulgences

10 am to 6 pm

On Wednesday visitors will be able to try our new line of casual treats, our “Everyday Indulgences”. These perfect little sweet snacks include Almond Toffee Treats, Peanut Toffee Treats, Chocolate Citrus Bark and Chocolate Dipped Shortbread Cookies.

Thursday, October 29th

Petits Fours

10 am to 6 pm

Elegant and diminutive, Valerie Confections petits fours come in flavors such as vanilla bean with rose/passion fruit ganache and orange/almond cake with handmade marzipan filling. Visitors will be able to enjoy an afternoon petit four pick me up.

Friday, October 30th

Valerie at the Market

10 am to 6 pm

Friday, Valerie will be sampling the “Valerie at the Market” line, which is inspired by the farmer’s markets of Los Angeles. “Valerie at the Market” products change seasonally, according to what is currently being harvested in the region. We’ll have products like White Fig and Fuji Apple Jam, Hand Pies, and Mini Market Cakes for sampling.

Saturday, October 31st

Chocolates, Toffees, and Truffles

10 am to 5 pm

To celebrate Halloween, Valerie will be sampling all manner of chocolates. We’ll have our signature Almond Fleur de Sel toffees, Black Pepper Truffles, Liquid Caramels and more.

SK's Donuts & Croissant: Great donuts, until 10 minutes later

2009-10-26T09:00:00.000-07:00

It seemed like a great idea at the time. Of course I should reward myself for seven hours of volunteer work at the Nike Human Race with a donut from SK’s Donuts & Croissant on West 3rd Street. I’d wanted to try the Yelp favorite for ages, and nothing else in my hood is open at 3 am. Well, aside from Benito’s Tacos, but I like to reward myself with sugar, not chicken taquitos with liquid guac.

In my mind, the whole thing seemed serendipitous. As I mentioned, SK’s was open, I would be driving almost right by it on my way home from USC, and, most importantly, I have a mouth that occasionally digs fried dough when it’s not busy macking on chocolate or ice cream.

It would be great – I’d eat a big fatty raised glazed donut in bed with some of the rooibos tea my mom gave me for my birthday, and then tweet about how I was eating donuts in bed. Because that’s what food bloggers do. Eat something and then tell the world about it.

The first kink in my great donut plan came when the chap working the shop told me that they didn’t have any raised glazed left. And that the glazed twists and sugar-dusted raised versions weren’t fresh. On a scale from 1 to 10, my disappointment level was at like a 27. Maybe a 27.5.

But I sucked it up like a big girl and asked said chap what the most popular ones are. He pointed out the crumb, the buttermilk and the frosted chocolate cake donut. I sighed in defeat – none sounded particularly worthy of sending my insulin levels into a tailspin. It was a very “wah wah” moment. Kind of like how I feel when an episode of “Glee” is over, and I know I have a whole week to get through before the next one.

After a few minutes of anxious contemplation, I finally went with the crumb and then told him to pick out another one for me so I wouldn’t have to make any more decisions. He selected the buttermilk and then threw in the chocolate one too because he didn’t “want [me] to be disappointed.” So sweet, that donut man. He only charged me $1.60 for the lot, but being the generous person I am (read: too anxious to get home to wait for my change), I gave him $2 and skedaddled.

Fifteen minutes later I snuggled up in my bed with my loot. It was an impressive spread. I snickered a bit at how gluttonous it seemed. A big plate of donuts at 3 in the morning? How Homer Simpson of me!

I tore into the buttermilk donut first. The freshness of the pliant dough was immediately apparent – as was the intense buttermilk flavor. I could practically feel the fat oozing into my pores as I nibbled my way through the fried pastry. This was a good thing. (Or at least I thought it was a good thing.) The light glaze covering the tender dough was sweet, but not cloyingly so, and I had no trouble polishing off the entire donut.
My other selections – the crumb and chocolate frosted cake donut – were also good and, most importantly, fresher than most of the donuts I’ve encountered in my lifetime of occasionally eating donuts, but were still outshone by the buttermilk variety. Tasting them only reaffirmed my favoritism for doughy, glazed donuts as opposed to cake-like ones. I cut off one more sliver of the crumb donut just to make absolute sure that I didn’t want to finish it, and then packed up the leftovers to give my roommate later.

It was around this time that my stomach started to hurt.

A lot.

“Foiled again by my own devices!” I thought woefully, as I tweeted about the unfortunate consequence of my post-midnight indulgence.

I chugged down the rest of my tea, hoping it would temper some of the pain that was rapidly spreading through my overburdened belly, but alas, it was too late for natural remedies. The damage had been done.

“Just lay still.” I told myself, hugging my biggest pillow to my stomach. “Mom would tell you to just lay still.”

My last thought before falling asleep was, “I hope I don’t throw up.”

The next morning, I woke up feeling disoriented, as though I’d been overindulging in Cabernet rather than fried deliciousness. While the carboloading proved to be an excellent pre-workout meal for my subsequent eight mile run (I felt inspired by all my fellow runners at the Human Race), I now know why I eat chocolate instead of donuts. Chocolate, even in massive quantities, brings only love and joy to my stomach – never stomachaches.

Sk’s Donuts & Croissants
5850 W 3rd St
Los Angeles, CA 90036

Phone: (323) 935-2409

Thyme Cafe and Market: Assessing the premises (and cupcake potential)

2009-10-23T09:00:00.000-07:00

When I heard the noise on EaterLA that a new Joan’s on Third-esque café/bakery would be opening on Ocean Park Blvd. just a stone’s throw (or 3-4 minute car ride) from my place of employment, I was pretty ecstatic. While I do brown bag it almost every… single… day, that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the occasional cookie, brownie or cupcake to perk up my lunch hour. Plus, it’s nice to have the option to escape from my Boar’s Head Honey Maple Glazed turkey sandwiches with provolone, leaf lettuce, delicatessen-style mustard on my Oroweat whole wheat bread when I feel the need.

The new lunching/sugar-coma-inducing locale, Thyme Cafe and Market, officially opened for business last Tuesday, October 13th, and earlier this week, I decided to make a drive-by assessment of the premises. Because that’s what I do on my lunch hour – eat food at my desk, and then go look at food I might want to eat at my desk in the future (or right then). What can I say? I’m vigilant about my craft. Of eating. And inducing mid-afternoon sugar comas that make it impossible for me to concentrate on my Excel documents. Sigh.

After maneuvering my car into a metered space down the street, I paused briefly outside the pleasantly bustling cafe, which is located just west of 17th street on Ocean Park Blvd. in Santa Monica, to snap a few establishing shots. I’m a good intrepid food blogger like that – always thinking about the visuals (or at least I am until I get too hungry). Satisfied, I then made my way inside for further surveillance.

The interior of the very Westside eatery (read: uber clean and sanitized) is decidedly Huckleberry and Joan’s on Third in fashion – with slightly better acoustics that will probably worsen as it gets more popular. The piercing SoCal sunlight that blinds me on my drive home, streams through the ceiling to floor windows, filling the space with the sort of light optimistic energy that is decidedly LA in nature. It feels like the type of place that would be featured on “The Hills” – a pristine lunch spot that fits the shiny, undefiled image of LA portrayed on the series.

The crowd is as well-manicured and groomed as the environs of the cafe would suggest. This is clearly the “light lunch” set – ladies who only eat salads, business men who are trying to clean up their diets and image with daintier gourmet sandwiches instead of the behemoth Godmother from Bay Cities, and a mix of folks from the neighborhood who just want a local spot other than the Counter to nosh.

I, investigative food blogger on a mission, stand out amidst the rest of the crowd that is at the cafe/market for a specific purpose. I’m not there to stand in the line by the counter, or hibernate at one of the dozen or so tables that dot the space. I’m there to look, listen, observe. And possibly buy a cupcake or chocolate chip cookie if one strikes my particular fancy.

The glass counter showcases the deli salads available, as well as some of their sweet treats like the currently trendy chocolate pudding, topped with soft snow-capped mountains of whipped cream, and lush rows of lemon bars kissed with powdered sugar. I spy a couple lone chocolate chip cookies in a glass jar outside the refrigerated case, but their standard appearance does not inspire my tongue to moisten. The fudgy, walnut-studded brownies look more appealing, as do the dainty carrot cake cupcakes with their impeccable top hats of cream cheese frosting. The ubiquitous red velvet looks lackluster in comparison, and I ultimately snub all the baked goods – mindful that just because it’s in front of me, doesn’t mean that I have to eat it.

Before heading back to the office to conquer another round of Excel documents, I take a quick glance at the gourmet goods available for purchase. Little jars of pricey substances amuse me, but sadly the collection seems to be an afterthought compared to the main appeal of the cafe – lunch.

I know I’ll be back, but not necessarily for a sugar rush via a cute carrot cake cupcake or tart lemon bar. The real point of intrigue for me is what lies on the menu – the affordable Chinese Chicken Salad, the Classic Chicken Tarragon Salad on Walnut Raisin Bread, or the Grilled Cheese with Tomato, Bacon and Avocado. This is a spot I’d be happy to let pinch hit for my standard turkey sam. Especially if it revives my energy enough to tackle all those Excel grids.

Thyme Cafe and Market
30 Ocean Park Blvd.
Santa Monica, CA
Phone: 310-399-8800

Top Chef Season 6, Episode 9: Michael asserts his domination

2009-10-22T09:00:00.000-07:00

There’s no time for (un)pleasantries or Pilates at the beginning of the 9th episode of “Top Chef: Las Vegas.” With only eight cheftestants left, everyone has their game face on. Especially Laurine who is on deathwatch since Grandma Robin doesn’t seem to be going back to the nursing home ever. Jenn C. is so riled up about the high-stakes of the competition that she considers cooking in her bathing suit and heels. Jenn does look pretty cute in her bikini (she clearly doesn’t love the pig as much as Kevin Red Beard), but it’s probably not the best idea. I mean hello? Padma’s the only one who’s allowed to wear inappropriate things in the kitchen!

According to guest judge Rick Moonen, the chef/owner of RM Seafood, who Kevin tells us is big on “sustainability,” the Quick-Fire Challenge this week is all about synergy. The chefs must draw knives to form two teams that will then prepare a dish together. Sounds simple, right? Wrong!

Rick Moonen and Padma are practically gleeful as they describe all the surprises in store for the chefs. “First you will draw from the great death block of knives, then you must pick your teammates and hope to God that you don’t get stuck with Robin because she will ruin everything. You will then prepare a dish tag-team style whereby each chef will have 10 minutes to screw their next teammate over with whatever crap you decide to make. And for an extra, knee-slapping good time, you can’t talk to each other and will be blindfolded while your teammates cook! Hahahaahahaaa!” It’s all very Mister Burns. I can practically see Padma hunched over his desk, tapping her finger tips together like an evil dictator.

The chefs are, needless to say, not so amused by all the tomfoolery. “It’s ludicrous, it’s crazy!” Kevin says. I so enjoy hearing Red Beard use his words like the good Southern-battered boy his mama raised him to be. So much better than all the bleepity bleeps. Though Jenn C. does make for amusing television too. I just love when her eyes get all squinty and steam starts shooting out of her nose – she looks just like the bad witch Maleficent when she turns into a dragon in Sleeping Beauty!

The teams shake out as follows: Michael, Bryan, Eli, and Grandma on the red team; and Kevin, Jenn C, Laurine, and Mike Isabella on the blue team. They each have 30 seconds to decide the order they will be cooking, and Michael immediately smacks Robin into the least important position – 2nd chef in the line-up. Eli will go first, Michael puts himself last, and Bryan will go third because, “If there is any crisis early on he should be able to start to fix it.” Translation: Bryan can do damage control after Robin f’s everything up. Eli also puts it nicely when he says, “Robin is somewhere east of Mars in terms of the type of food we do.”

There’s just so much love. So much love. Googly eyes Carla from Season 5 would be practically weeping over it all.

With the orders figured out, the chefs are off and cooking, and it’s actually pretty entertaining to see everyone trying to figure out what the person before them was doing. Mike seems to be having an especially fun time with it. Jenn, who went first for the blue team, is a little worried. He looks a “little dizzy, confused,” and she’s practically foaming at the mouth for the cod she set up to be poached. Mike finally puts two and two together, but then Kevin, that rascal, he decides not to poach the fish! Gee whiz!

The red team presents Rick and Padma with a pan roasted NY strip with whipped miso avocado puree and pickled vegetables; and the blue team serves a pan-seared sablefish with sautéed mushrooms, ginger shiitake broth, and a radish salad. Jenn C. describes it as trout, gets called out on it, and then smirks to the camera, “I called my black cod, trout on national TV. Awesome.” Oh how the mighty have fallen. But not really. The team still wins it courtesy of her exceptionally “well-made stock.” Hugs all around – the blue team is not blue at all! They then have the choice of either taking $15,000 to split between the four of them or letting it ride for the Elimination Challenge – the highly-anticipated Restaurant Wars. Should the blue team take it each chef will receive $10,000. It takes about two milliseconds for greed/pride to win out and the chefs decide to “let it ride.” This is Vegas, baby. VEGAS!

The blue team will also have the advantage (that, incidentally, isn’t really an advantage at all), of choosing which restaurant they want to cook in at the Mandalay Bay. They opt for the fancy schmancy one, which is fine by the red team. “It doesn’t give them any advantage.” Bryan says dismissively. He’s so rational it almost hurts. Wish he had used his voice of reason when his team decided to name their restaurant Revolt. Padma and the gang will have lots of fun with that one later. The claws are coming out, tonight, folks! Meooow!

With names decided (the blue team goes with the rather mundane “Mission” because their cuisine is like mission-style architecture?), it’s off to Whole Foods and Restaurant Depot for the goods. Robin gets testy because Lorraine steals her revolutionary idea to serve sparkling water, and Lorraine’s eyes start rolling like soccer balls. Poor grandma just can’t seem to catch a break from any of the kids. Even teammate Michael thinks “she’s a little out of her league,” and is prepared to stomp all over her feelings with his big chef man boots. Maybe her dentures too.

Robin, always the astute one, knows she’s going to get pushed into the corner with something akin to dishwasher duty. “Michael has asserted his domination.” She says for the first of many many many times over the course of the evening. Me thinks she is really excited about using “Michael” and “domination” in the same sentence. I kind of like it too. Michael has asserted his domination, folks. Michael will have his way with… the food. Michael is… married and has two kids.

Brother Bryan isn’t very happy about lil bro’s assertive behavior. “He’s a bit cocky.” Robin just wants her voice back. We really really do not want that to happen, so it’s pretty great when M.V.(P.) relegates the chatty Cathy to a chef’s version of “dishwasher duty” – dessert, which the other team decides to nix completely because, according to Jenn, every time a chef does dessert “it has bitten them in the ass.”

Big mistake, Jenn. HUGE. Poor girl is just not on the ball this episode! She’s calling black cod, “trout,” making bad dessert decisions, is in the weeds with her fish dishes… Maybe she should have cooked in a bathing suit and heels, afterall?

But enough of the nitty gritty chopping and searing stuff. Nobody really wants to see Jenn filleting fish or Kevin undercooking Lorraine’s lamb. This is “Top Chef” – not “Iron Chef.” The secret ingredient is drama (and sometimes pork)! Onto the restaurant war blood bath!

It’s pretty obvious what’s going to happen at this point. With Eli putting his whiny schmooze-factor to good use out in the front of the house, Michael dominating the kitchen (and Robin), and Bryan working like a valiant soldier, restaurant Revolt is on the up and up. Despite the “horrible” name, the judges are practically gushing over the food. “This chicken is amazing…” “[The pear pithivier] was like a perfect massage.” “I wish Michael would assert his domination on me…”

Oh wait, that’s not what Padma said?

The other restaurant experience could not be any more different. Lorraine is not the hostess with the mostest in the front of the house – failing to describe the dishes to the judges, and the back of the house is equally challenged as Jenn C. frantically tries to steam her mussels and clams to order. Timing is a huge problem, but not as big of a problem as the execution. There are problems with all the dishes (aside from Kevin’s righteous pork entrée- you rock that pig, Red Beard!), and nobody is scratching their chins in confusion when team Revolt is awarded the win at Judge’s Table.

Padma is super excited to announce that Michael is the victor for his chicken and cod dishes, and coyly says, “Michael, I have a little something for you…”

I start to shield my eyes (thinking it’s not going to be PG-13), but it’s only a check for $10,000, which Michael says he will split with his teammates. Aww, sooo cute. Maybe he really does have “the biggest heart here” when he’s not busy asserting his domination and taking over Robin’s “damn dessert.” Bryan doesn’t want anything to do with Michael’s money though. “It’s unprofessional behavior being rewarded.” I tell ya, he’s always the voice of reason, that one. Or just a giant wet blanket.

Restaurant Mission is sent back to the Judge’s table for failing to accomplish their mission (har har har), and it’s a pretty ugly scene. I’m fine hearing them rip on Lorraine for being a “deer in the headlights,” but when they start needling Kevin for the undercooked lamb and Jenn C. for her “broken sauce,” it feels just so wrong. Jenn and Kevin are supposed to be beyond reproach! They can’t go home yet! They just can’t! They have so much left to do – so much more bacon left to cook!

Fortunately, Lorraine’s failures in the front of the house allow Kevin and Jenn to live to see another pork chop. Lorraine knows it’s coming. “Sure,” she says like the good sport she is. I’m a little sad to see the self-described, “rock” go. Poor girl got herself dominated by the competition. Her rock was rocked. And yes, this is still a family show.

Gjelina: Spuds and eggs get a make-over

2009-10-20T09:00:00.000-07:00

"She said 30 to 40 minutes," Ashley says to me when I arrive outside Gjelina restaurant in Venice after (expertly) parallel parking my car on Electric Avenue.

I can tell by her pained expression that she's a little unsure about the wait time and a knot of anxiety weaves through my rumbling stomach. I hope she doesn't suggest going elsewhere. I think. Hal's is fine, but...

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom!" I stammer quickly, stalling so that by the time I get back, there will only be 25 minutes left, and then I can make the argument that all good brunch places have at least a 20 minute wait on Sunday.

Smart, Diana, Smart. I commend myself and bolt away from Ashley before she can put up a protest.

The bathroom at the rear of the restaurant is an amusing space. While I am a bit annoyed at the effort it takes to not touch the (potentially) germ-infested chain flushing mechanism or the rod iron steering wheel handle above the sink, I like the overall effect. It's rather dungeonesque, except without the stench of rotting bones and flesh.

By the time I do get back to Ashley, we only have enough time to buy amusing birthday cards at Firefly down the street before the somewhat surly hostess seats us at one of the communal tables in the middle of the trendy Abbott Kinney restaurant.

I make a face at Ashley as we squeeze onto our tiny barstools. It's a good thing both of us run... a lot, I think. Of course, at this point, my stomach has reached full ready to rumble stage, and I would be happy eating out of a pig trough, so don't (much) mind that the girl next to me is practically in my lap. She actually seems pretty sweet. Plus, I really like the looks of her egg dish with its golden runny yolk oozing over spritely slivers of asparagus.

By the time our waiter comes by to take our drink order, I'm pretty determined to pull a "I'll have what she's having." Or at least I think I'm determined. I do still feel somewhat compelled to ask our hipsteresque server what he recommends lest I experience another mojoless ordering moment. He singles out the poached eggs with lentils, escarole and salsa verde ($11); albacore tune tartine with confit tomato, gruyere and cucumber green bean salad ($13); the Pei mussels with chorizo, garlic, confit tomato, white wine and grilled bread ($13); and the marinated beet salad with avocado, orange and hazelnuts ($9).

Again, Ashley and I make faces at each other.

"Nothing he recommended sounds good to me..." She whispers once he has departed to put in my request for green tea ($4).

"Me neither..." I whisper back, still making eyes at the poached eggs with maitake mushrooms, roasted asparagus and parmesan breadcrumbs.

When our server returns, Ashley orders the Anson Mills corn grits with poached eggs, cavola nero and crisp bacon ($13), and I opt for what my conjoined twin on the right is enjoying. We top things off with a small plate of the crispy fingerling potatoes with truffle oil, herbs and parmesan ($5), and then pass the (brief) waiting period discussing how Ashley wants to get married in a short wedding dress and how I want to have a gelato bar instead of a dried out multi-tier cake.

The fingerlings arrive first -- announcing themselves at our table with the intoxicating perfume of hot truffle oil. Potatoes don’t normally inspire greedy gobbler behavior for me, but I have to physically restrain myself from eating the entire plate before Ashley can get her share. Even after we try our entrees, which are, incidentally, delicious, we both can't get past the potatoes.
"These are the best thing we ordered." Ashley declares as she spears another crispy tater.

I nod and immediately stab my fork into a particularly girthy spud on my half of the plate.

Our egg dishes also prove to be successful -- particularly after we give them a salt shower. My first bite is a touch underwhelming, but as my tongue acclimates to the earthy flavors and savory broth, I find myself increasingly enamored by the lightness of the dish. I also very much enjoy using the buttery grilled bread served on the side to mop up the excess liquid. It’s not the most attractive behavior, but Ashley pretends not to notice my uncouth communal table manners. She is content to scrape up her plate of grits and greens – a dish she later describes as "comfort food."

The brunch proves to be pricier than my average midday nosh session (especially since most of my midday nosh sessions come courtesy of my own two hands), but when I sign my name on the dotted line, I don't feel as though I've wasted my money on something I could have made better at home. Gjelina's brunch offerings are unique in a way that makes the restaurant a worthy destination for someone who wants a little something more than plain old scrambled eggs and hash browns. Gjelina elevates the humble egg and lowly spud from ho-hum to gourmet. I can’t wait to go back for dinner to see the crazy stuff they do to pizza.

Gjelina
1429 Abbot Kinney Blvd.
Venice, CA‎
Phone: (310) 450-1429‎

Black Bean Burgers: Satisfying my animalistic urges... with beans

2009-10-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

Bacon and burgers. It’s all anyone talks about any more. Well, fine, maybe the occasional balloon boy too, but puking six-year-olds aren’t likely to be gracing the cover of Gour... err... Saveur anytime soon.

All the cow and pork love isn’t a bad thing – I sincerely believe that bacon really does make everything better (except maybe congenital heart disease) – but I typically prefer clogging up my arteries with ice cream and chocolate instead. Of course, my girly/hormonal tendencies don’t necessarily mean that I don’t crave the experience of eating a messy burger from time to time. Who doesn’t love biting into something that, as the Carl’s Jr. motto says, “gets all over the place?” Even with my faux displays of feminine primness, I am no exception. I find it inexplicably satisfying to sink my teeth into a hearty hunk of flesh, bun and drippy toppings that require a tree’s worth of napkins to get through. The ritual feels animalistic in a good way – like I am declaring to the world, “I am woman, hear me (attempt to) roar.”

The only problem is (please prepare for shock)…

… I am rarely in the mood for a burger.

It’s not that I disapprove of ground up cow in patty form, but in the past four or so years, I haven’t felt a need to eat a hamburger in the way that I feel the need to massacre a giant chocolate chip cookie. Even so, I still crave the ritual of masticating something that “gets all over the place.” Sometimes when that urge strikes, I turn to tacos or ice cream sandwiches; other times I opt for a doppelganger burger – ie. a veggie burger.

I’ve sampled quite a few animal-friendly burgers during my cowless burger streak, and, in all honesty, can’t say that any have made me think I was noshing on actual flesh. Of course, since I’m not necessarily in the market for a patty that makes me think I’m eating something that may contain E-Coli, that isn’t a bad thing. All I really want is something that gives me reason to go through a big wad of napkins.

Two weeks ago I found that reason with Mark Bittman’s recipe template for black bean burgers. Using the Gastronomer’s helpful suggestions (nix the excess liquid, and don’t attempt to form the patties prior to cooking), I fried myself up a beefy burger and then went to town on it with the leftover contents of my fridge and freezer. I loved being able to customize my burger to my exact specifications, and was even more thrilled when I bit into the hefty sandwich and got avocado cilantro dressing on my face and hands. (Possibly my blogger prom t-shirt and baggy sweatpants, as well.) It was primal eating at its finest. And as such, will not be repeated in public (until after I trick someone into marrying me).

Black Bean Burgers
Adapted from Mark Bittman via Gastronomy Blog

Serves 1

½ cup black beans
3 tablespoons oatmeal
1 tablespoon chopped cilantro
2 tablespoons frozen corn
¼ white onion, chopped
½ teaspoon cumin
1 tablespoon or so egg
Salt, pepper to taste

English muffin, toasted
Arugula
Sautéed onions
Feta cheese
Avocado cilantro dressing

Sauté chopped onions in a frying pan with olive oil, salt, pepper, until tender. Combine black beans, oatmeal, onions cilantro, cumin, egg, salt and pepper in a bowl, and then mix together using an immersion blender or blender. Stir in the corn.

Heat olive oil in nonstick pan over medium high heat. Drop burger mixture into pan and form into a patty. Cook 4 minutes per side or until cooked through and golden brown. Serve on English muffin and top with avocado cilantro dressing, sautéed onions, feta cheese, and arugula.

Top Chef Season 6, Episode 8: Guess what, Eli lives with his mom!

2009-10-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

There is a lot of talent on this season of “Top Chef.” So much talent that it almost feels like half (err four) of the contestants belong on “Top Chef Masters” instead. Watching Jenn C., Michael and Bryan Voltaggio, and Kevin Red Beard strut their stuff in the kitchen isn’t terrifying like it is when I see Robin or Ash getting too close to a burner. I know the fab four are going to rock it out (or at least they will when all the circuits are working correctly and there is plenty of pork around for Kevin).

The contrast between the Jenn, Michael, Bryan, and Kevin and the rest of the motley crew of cheftestants is startling, but not just because they cook things that Padma doesn’t want to spit out. While Michael admittedly likes to push older brother Bryan’s buttons in the kitchen, they at least keep their lover’s quarrels in the family circle. The other chefs do not, and as a result, seem even more unprofessional and amaueteristic in comparison.

Exhibit A: Eli. In the opening sequence the “Top Chef” producers give the audience a big giant present – Eli reveals that he lives with his parents. I can practically hear the collective “Ohhh…” spewing out of the mouths of the audience at home. Because suddenly I get why Eli is a whiny brat who thinks camping is stupid and cancer survivors are lame and black shirts are totally rockin’, duuuude. I’m so happy to have petulant Eli figured out that I don’t even find myself that appalled when Michael V. compares himself to Babe Ruth. I mean, really Michael, that’s just like way out of (bad pun alert!) left field. Babe Ruth has nothing on you! Swing higher, kid – you make fancy foams – he’s only (debatably) the greatest baseball player of all time!

So as the cheftestants head into the Quickfire Challenge, Michael is all pumped up to never make another mistake again (he’s got a legacy to build), and Robin, despite all the mind-clearing Pilates, is still delusional and thinks that she can actually win “Top Chef.” Right. That will happen when Kevin’s pig tattoo can fly, Robin. Or when Padma takes a look in the mirror before going on camera. Seriously, Padma, what is going on with your wardrobe this season? First the green onesie, now the space cowboy outfit complete with huge belt buckle and white knee-high boots? Think of your future child!

The Quickfire Challenge is fairly simple – make a dish that is a natural pairing for a flavor of Alexia Crunchy Snacks. The guest judge is Charlie Palmer who both Bryan and Michael have worked for in the past, but Charlie assures everybody that he will be impartial. I want to believe him, I really really do, especially because he looks so serious when he says it, but I…. just… can’t… do… it. Bryan is practically weeping with joy that he gets to cook for his mentor – he knows he’s got it in the bag of (bad pun alert)….savory onion Alexia Crunchy Snacks! Snap!

Michael’s actually kind of nervous because “Charlie has very high standards,” which Bryan translates as, “Michael thinks Charlie doesn’t like him. I think that’s funny.” Meanwhile, Jenn is freaking out because she overcooked her pork chop and doesn’t want to screw up in front of an “American icon,” and Eli is looking around at everyone like they are riff-raff because the other chefs don’t “get” natural pairings like he does since he lives with his mommy and daddy and that’s like the most natural thing ever. When you are five.

Robin, Ash and Jenn, courtesy of her overcooked chop, ultimately land in the bottom, and Eli, Kevin and Bryan are the favorites. Eli’s warm potato clam salad paired with the onion crunchy snack gets the nod, and Eli says, “I’ll take what I can get.” Yeah… like free rent, huh?

Ash is not too happy about it. He seems to have abandoned his nice guy persona in the last episode and is all about the bleepity bleeps tonight. It’s surprisingly not all that charming. But then again, neither is his chilled cucumber avocado soup…

For the Elimination Challenge, the chefs are asked to draw knives to find out what they’ll be cooking. Each knife lists the body part of a pig because, as we’ve learned in episodes past, pork is aaaaawesome. It’s really not “Top Chef,” guys, it’s “Top Bacon Bit” which Kevin understands completely. “I think it’s the best thing in the world,” He says, before admitting he has a pig tattoo. Swoon! Watch out Michael V., someone is stealing your tat thunder!

After everyone gets their pig parts and Jenn C, who receives the wild card knife, chooses pork belly for her dish, the chefs are then shuttled off to the Mandalay Bay to select a Pinot Noir to pair with their plate o’ pork. Each chef will need to make 150 tasting portions for Charlie Palmer’s aptly named “Pigs and Pinot” charity event. Eli is totally strutting his stuff because he’s “very familiar with wines.” Sometimes his mom even lets him have a little glass with dinner! But only if he finishes all his vegetables.

With wine selections made, it’s back to Whole Foods for shopping. Ash is like really stoked to make roasted pork tenderloin with polenta and cherry and is practically skipping through the aisles. Last dance for Mary Jane, perhaps? Then it’s back to the ranch for some fun times ignoring and hating on Robin. Kevin, bless his little Red Bearded soul, sums up the merriment well: “Robin has the best intentions at heart, but she’s driving people up the f*ing wall.” Without going into too many gory details, Robin and Eli get in a tiff over a dirty cutting board and Eli tells her, “You aren’t my mom so cut it out.” He’s really proud of himself for that one, and rushes to the nearest phone to call his real mom to give her a play by play.

For the challenge the next day, the chefs have only four hours to prep for the event. It’s madness, I tell you, madness! But Laurine is feeling really good about her pork rillette (translation: it’s going to be horrible), and Ash is pumped to finally cook his food. Or at least he is until he decides to cook someone else’s food and takes Mike Isabella’s brilliant advice to make chilled pork tenderloin instead of his plan for pork and polenta. You just keep digging that hole deeper don’t you, Ash?

The rest of the episode plays out as expected. The fab four – Michael, Bryan, Kevin, and Jenn C. – are the clear standouts for their pairings. Charlie describes Jenn C.’s take on pork and beans as “probably the lightest pork belly dish I’ve ever had.” Toby Young chimes in with the best/worst comment of the evening, likening the transition from American Pinots to Jenn C.’s European Pinot to “the difference between a shaved armpit and a hairy armpit.” He praises her for her ability to pick up on those hairy elements in the wine, and I throw up in my mouth just a little bit. Kevin Red Beard, however, takes it all for his pork leg pate. It’s a nice moment – he turns an appropriate shade of pink with pleasure. And then goes “Wee wee wee all the way home!”

Laurine, Ash and Robin are all in the bottom, and Mike makes it clear that he’s really hoping that “they make the right decision this time” and that “grandma goes.” Mike, honey, I love you (not really), but maybe if you had kept that big Jersey trap shut and let Ash do his pork ‘n polenta thing, you could have gotten your wish. Even though Dana Cowin, the Editor-in-Chief of Food & Wine magazine, describes Laurine’s rillette as “cat food,” and Toby Young likens Robin’s sauce to “the gunk you get when you finish a cup of instant coffee,” ultimately Ash is sent home for his flavorless, clammy piece of pork that didn’t pair well with his Pinot.

Or as he says so eloquently, “I have the least good dish. Oops.”

3rd Annual Chocolate Salon: And the Dundie goes to...

2009-10-14T09:00:00.000-07:00

The e-mail seemed to be sent to my inbox straight from heaven. A six hour luxury chocolate salon with samples from over 30 chocolatiers, confectioners, wineries and other culinary artisans? It took me less than 30 seconds to respond to Taste TV’s e-mail – I was in!

This past Sunday morning, instead of going to church like my less gluttonous Christian counterparts, I dragged Tiffany Toyota out to the Pasadena Center for the 3rd Annual LA Chocolate Salon. Armed with my camera, a bottle of water, and Tupperware, I arrived at the exhibition at 11:30 am, primed to eat as much chocolate as possible. For two and half hours, I did just that.

While others grew weary and complained of chocolate overload, I never felt like I needed to call a choco-interference. I was grinning like a sugar-crazed idiot the entire time, and was able to champion my way through many of the different vendors at the event. There is no way to award just one or even three of the bites I tried, the descriptor of “my favorite,” so instead I will do what high school seniors across America do at the end of every school year – I will award them superlatives. Or, if you prefer, “Dundie Awards” -- just like Michael did in Season 2 of "the Office."

Most likely to inspire me to change my personality and go camping...

Plush Marshmallows

My first stop at the Chocolate Salon was also one of the highlights of the event -- and I'm not just saying that because of the primacy affect. My second toasted marshmallow (caramel swirl) that I ate toward the end of my two-plus hour chocolate chowdown was just as tasty and ooey gooey delicious as the first one I sampled (s'mores). I did prefer the latter for obvious reasons (it contained chocolate).

Most likely to inspire riots…

Swirls Cupcakes

In the five minutes I spent talking to one of the women helping with the Swirls Cupcakes’ exhibit, I heard no less than ten people ask (in whiny voices), “Can we sample the red velvet?” Ignorant fools. There is goodness to be found outside of the red velvet! And that goodness is called the chocolate ganache cupcake. With its fudgy top hat and moist interior, this cupcake would pair perfectly with my fat pants and a glass of milk. But is it better than my favorite bad boys at Sprinkles or SusieCakes? Not so sure on that one. I’d have to... ahem… order a red velvet from the Sherman Oak-based company for adequate research.

Prettiest (ie. most expensive) packaging…

Clarine’s Florentine's

While I blanched when I learned that six of the delicate florentines would rape my wallet of $10, the product does have quality (and damn fine looks) on its side. The candied almond brittle caressed with Guittard chocolate was one of my favorite bites of the day, and may just inspire me to perform a little experimenting in my kitchen to replicate them.

Most… err… interesting…

Marti Chocolatt

The Durian chocolate I sampled from Marti Chocolatt was… not to my taste. At all. But the rose raspberry quickly brought the smile back to my face.
Most likely to get me to pry open my wallet…

Choclatique

This Santa Monica chocolatier bowled me over with its root beer float chocolate – a hefty bite of root beer and exotic vanilla cream enrobed in 32% cacao milk chocolate. Then the chocolatier went and bowled me over again with its seasonal peppermint snowman filled with marshmallow and peppermint cream. The unique chocolates were another of my favorites of the day, and I left with three root beer floats and one snowman to enjoy this week ($5).

Least likely to be a Hanukkah present…

Christopher Michael’s Sizzling Bacon Bar

This chocolate bacon bar ain’t kosher by any stretch of the imagination. Thank God.

Most likely to be described as “yum-o!”

CJ’s Stix

According to Bruce Nadler, the owner of the Marin county based company, Rachael Ray is a big fan of these chocolate dipped pretzels hand rolled in toffee chips. Despite that shortcoming, my mouth was still won over by the creative product and charming owner who started the company with his daughter. I’ve been craving both the original and peanut butter flavors since sampling them on Sunday. Yum-o, indeed.
Most likely to be mistaken for art…

Sterling Truffle Bar

Sterling Confections specializes in hand-painted truffle bars that are pretty enough to use as a centerpiece for a formal dining room table. Fortunately, they taste good too. The double hazelnut caramel with contrasting tiers of milk chocolate flavored with rich hazelnut puree, white chocolate infused with caramel and dark chocolate with a hint of ground hazelnut was almost as delicious as the over-effusive description implies. The rocky road with a filling of milk and white chocolate, almonds, marshmallows and a hint of vanilla was better. Now if only I could figure out how to cut the darn things without a butcher knife…

Miss Congeniality…

Xtpatisserie

Pastry Chef Xuan Ngo and his partner Tuan Trinh were not only the nicest vendors at the exhibit, but also had the best variety of items to sample. From the sophisticated earl grey chocolates to the delicate vanilla macarons, everyone could find something to love from this table. I know it won’t be long before I’m stocking up on the macarons that are now available at Paris Pastry in Westwood.

Most likely to give Reese’s a run for its money…

Ococoa

Ococoa specializes in jazzed-up, adult versions of the candy aisle favorite Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Despite my adoration of most things chocolate and/or peanut butter, I never quite understood the big fuss about Reese’s chalky-tasting cups. Ococoa’s take is far more to my liking. The sample of the almond cherry dark chocolate I tried was refined enough to make me feel like a grown-up, but basic enough to keep my inner five-year-old happy. I’m dying to get my hands on the other flavors which include pistachio date, sesame fig, hazelnut chocolate, cashew apricot, marzipan truffle, macadamia guava, sunflower honey, and of course, classic peanut butter.

Most likely to make me do something stupid…

Dove’s Chocolate Martinis

Immediately after sampling the delightful chocolate martini, I found myself say, “Why, yes, I would be interested in hosting a chocolate tasting party. And why, yes, you can have my name and e-mail to contact me about it.”
Most likely to make me feel like a kid again…

Neopolitan Printing & Company

The Ants on a Log chocolate from this Portland-based company was another of my favorite bites – it tasted exactly like a peanut butter raisin topped celery stick, only covered in milk chocolate. I maniacally told the vendor that it was the best thing I’d had – ever. It was a total lie, and I have no idea why I said that, but they were yummy and I was high on sugar. The chocolate-covered mango was also good. But did not inspire me to make any hyperbolic remarks.

Ricky's Fish Tacos: The gold at the end of the rainbow

2009-10-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

“I don’t know…” I say to Danny of Kung Food Panda. “Are they greasy?”

He shakes his head. “No, they are amazing!”

“But they are fried?” My stomach lurches at the thought of eating fried anything after spending two and half hours consuming chocolate at the Taste TV Chocolate Salon on Sunday morning.

“Yeah, but the batter is so light.” He insists. “You should come.”

I turn to Cathy (“The Gastronomer”), and immediately assign her the role of my personal Magic 8 Ball. “What do you think? Do I want fish tacos?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don’t know… Mexican is always kind of heavy…”

“Well, Evelina is leaving Westwood now to meet me there, so I have to go…” Danny says. “You in?”

I wiggle my lips back and forth in my universal display of indecisive contemplation. After my disappointing meal at reservoir the night before, I’m in desperate need of some tasty (and cheap) food redemption. And savory tacos do sound kind of good… especially after the pound of chocolate I’ve eaten…

“I’m in.” I say with finality. “But I’m only going to have one.”

Thirty minutes, three wrong turns and two illegal U-turns later, I arrive at Ricky’s fish taco stand outside of the T-Mobile store at the Sunset Junction in Silver Lake. I’m slightly concerned when I see the small size of the stand because (and I know this will come as a bit of shock) I have the tendency to be a little bit of a food snob.

Fine, maybe a lot bit of a food snob.

Despite my initial apprehensions, the bright rainbow umbrella shielding Ricky from the sun seems to be a positive omen that everything is going to be okay with my digestive track. Plus, I trust Danny – he wouldn’t take me some place dirty. I don’t think…

As soon as I see Ricky’s clean zip-lock bag full of beautiful strips of fresh white fish (a variety that I’m told is similar to catfish) and his neat containers of pico de gallo and impeccably hand-sliced cabbage, I feel awash with happiness. It’s all so sanitary I want to give Ricky a big Diana bear hug! But I don’t. He’s got work to do – and two pandas and a princess to feed.

I follow Danny and Evelina’s lead and order one of the fish tacos to start. I watch in awe as Ricky, who also works at a flower shop in Hollywood, deftly dips the fish filets in his tempura batter and then plunks them into his deep fryer. He keeps careful watch over his fish – gently turning them as they cook. Once they have turned golden, he deftly removes each piece and sets it on a rack for any excess oil to drain off and the fish to cool. A couple minutes later, he whips out a pliant corn tortilla, nestles the fish in the center and then tops it off with cabbage, pico de gallo, a spicy red sauce, and a mayo/milk white sauce. When it’s my turn, he presents the taco to me with a shy smile. I gratefully accept.

With one bite I know that there is no way I’m going to be able to stop at just one taco like I’d insisted earlier. The flaky, lightly battered fish, the punch from the hot sauce against the cool white sauce, the crunch from the cabbage, and the fresh bite of pico de gallo, all come together in perfect collusion. It’s not just Rachael Ray “yummy,” it’s the best fish taco I’ve ever tasted.

“Soooo good….” I coo to Ricky, white sauce dribbling down my chin.

He smiles again – his face lighting up with pleasure. “Thank you.”

Two tacos – one fish and one shrimp – later, I’m practically euphoric. I eagerly pay my $7.50 tab, and gush to Ricky about how I can’t wait to come back with friends on future Saturdays and Sundays (hours 1 – 4 pm). Then I proceed to gush to Danny about how grateful I am that he insisted I come. (It’s possible I may also gush to the baristas at Intelligentsia down the street when I grab a cup of oolong plum ginger iced tea to-go.)

Ricky’s fish tacos are like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (umbrella). After my lackluster experience at reservoir, they were exactly what I needed to get my mojo back this weekend. Next time I see Ricky, I may have to go in for the big Diana bear hug.

Ricky’s Fish Tacos

Sunset Junction – Silver Lake (in front of the T-Mobile store on Santa Monica Blvd.)

Bodega Wine Bar: A perfectly ordinary night with a good friend

2009-10-12T09:00:00.000-07:00

When my best friend from college told me that she was going to be leaving DC to attend grad school at UCLA this year, I didn’t think I could believe her. Not because I think she’s a liar – she’s actually one of the most honest people I know (she’s never afraid to tell me when a top I like is not so cute) – but it seemed, as the cliché goes, “too good to be true.”

Even now that she is here, residing seven miles away from my apartment, it feels bizarre to be able to get together on a Saturday night to watch bad movies (or if she had her way “Flipping Out”), or meet up for a drink on a week night like we did this past Thursday at Bodega Wine Bar in Santa Monica. When I picked her up on my way out west, I couldn’t shake the sense that I was somehow engaging in an illegal activity by getting to hang out with my dear college friend so spontaneously. This sort of fortuitous social behavior is a rare occurrence -- especially in LA where nobody makes time for anyone unless it fits into their neatly choreographed schedule and doesn’t conflict with their bi-weekly Bar Method class. (I’m admittedly very guilty of the latter.)

On the Richter scale of exciting evenings (10 being flying to San Francisco for the opera a la Pretty Woman), our wine date probably registered at about a 4. We both only ordered one drink – she selected a glass of the Poppy Pinot Noir, I chose our server’s favorite Terre des Papes Cotes Du Rhone Grenache/Syrah (all wines by the glass are $8) – and we warmed the seats of our bar stools for less than an hour and a half. Yet, the simplicity of the evening and comfortable surroundings of Bodega Wine Bar made the night a poignant moment in my week.

The bar itself was uncluttered with scantily clad women (well, aside from the girl in the egregious denim short shorts) and out-of-work actors with an iPhone full of the aforementioned scantily clad women’s phone numbers. The full-bodied wines we selected were smooth, lush and vivid with flavor, and actually at the right temperature for a red (ie. slightly below room temperature). And the music, which included the Arctic Monkeys among other Indie and not-so-Indie favorites, provided the ideal soundtrack for our quiet conversation about school, work and my dad’s bizarre affection for the show “Meet the Kardashians.”

It was an ordinary night, but was the perfect way to call a time-out in the middle of our respective work and school weeks. It’s not always about doing something the producers on the “the Hills” would deem entertaining enough for the masses in South Dakota. The point is (to steal a line from Ashley) “making time” for a special friend who I am lucky to have in my life. Especially lucky since I no longer have to fly 3,000 miles to have her tell me my shirt is ugly in person.
Bodega Wine Bar
814 Broadway (@ Lincoln)
Santa Monica, CA 90401
Phone: (310) 394-3504

reservoir: The meal that made me want to shop instead of eat

2009-10-11T01:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends and Family,

I’ve lost my ordering mojo. If found, please return it promptly to my WeHo residence in a marked envelope labeled “Diana Takes a Bite’s Mojo” lest I mistake it for the Anthropologie catalogue that I’m supposed to recycle immediately upon receipt.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

“D Takes a B”

Whenever I was goofing off as a young tike, my dad used to tell me, “Once it’s funny. Twice it’s silly. Three times and it starts to get a little annoying.” I used to bristle at the remark (everything I did was hilarious every single time), but today, or more accurately, tonight, I’m starting to wonder if my dad was actually being profound when he was spouting off his seemingly disdainful pontifications on the limitations of my humor.

The past few dining experiences I’ve had in Los Angeles have been decidedly lackluster – partially because the dishes I’ve been served haven’t been executed to the level I expect when I’m digging deep into my budget for adorable fall jackets, and partially because I’ve done a poor job ordering. The first time it happened, I shrugged my shoulders and thought, “At least the dessert rocked my mouth party! I’ll get the entrée right next time!” The second time, I declared, “Silly ole me, guess that’ll teach me to order a salad instead of pancakes for brunch – har har har!” But tonight, after a particularly disappointing dinner at reservoir in Silver Lake, I’m not much in the mood for laughing.

I was really excited to try Gloria Felix’s seasonally inspired restaurant that allows diners to create self-constructed entrees based on a list of sides and proteins. I’d studied the menu prior to my arrival with the intensity that one might devote to the Bar review or something far more important than the inconsequential ritual of stopping an organ from growling.

After much contemplation, I had set my mind on ordering the braised beef short ribs with pomegranate reduction glaze and the farro with grilled asparagus, broccoli rabe, currants, toasted pine nuts and roasted shallots ($26). But when I arrived tonight, I wasn’t particularly hungry for red meat and opted for the black cod with miso glaze and forbidden rice with fava beans, baby oca potatoes and roasted balsamic cipollini onions instead ($24). I wanted a lighter main course – particularly since I was also anxious to try the arugula, prosciutto, manchengo and fried egg pizza ($10) as a starter.

I wanted to love everything, and went into each dish with the optimism that I approach most situations in my life (Exhibit A: My blog is pink, not black), but ultimately my selections this evening all reaffirmed what I’ve been suspecting for the past few weeks.

“I’ve lost my ordering mojo.”

As I quietly nibbled on my slice of a shared arugula pizza, I couldn’t help but covet the sweet corn ravioli with brown butter sage ($12) my more prescient companions were savoring for their starter. Unlike the refined juxtaposition of flavors in the pasta dish that was enhanced by woodsy mushrooms and fried sage leaves, the different components of the pizza were in direct competition with one another. It wasn’t harmonic – it was jarring to my palate, and the only distinct flavor I could taste was an ample (and unwelcome) application of tomato sauce.

Despite my disappointment, I pushed the pizza debacle aside as a fluke and excitedly awaited the arrival of my entrée. I knew it wouldn’t be transcendent like Nobu’s world-famous miso cod, but I was still confident that it would satisfy my craving for the Asian-influenced preparation of the flaky white fish. Unfortunately, I found the glaze on the tender flesh to be so off-putting that I, for the first time in recent memory, could not finish my entrée. The thick black blanket of what a fellow companion tasted and likened to “burnt hoisin sauce” was not just jarring to my palate – it was offensive to it.

The tepid forbidden rice accompaniment (according to our server, a good pairing for the cod) did nothing to rectify the situation – it merely filled up space on a plate I couldn’t bear to fight my way through like the champion eater that I typically pride myself to be. I lustfully made eyes at the superior entrees on my table – the tender short ribs with farro that I was so close to selecting myself, and the filet mignon with gorgonzola port sauce and potato gratin and green beans ($28).

Once again, the nagging suspicion echoed it’s disconcerting chorus in my head.

“I’ve lost my ordering mojo.”

After our main dishes were cleared, I decided to give it one last college try with an order of the peach and blueberry crumble with condensed milk ice cream ($10). Or, more accurately, my dining companions decided for me since they knew I was “struggling, Coach.” Fortunately for my sanity, the crumble was everything a crumble should be. Translation: The top was crumbly, and the fruit was supple, warm and plentiful.

I was finally happy.

Yet, as I pulled into my driveway tonight $56 lighter, I couldn’t help but feel saddened by the totality of an experience that could have, and should have, been better. Not just because I’ve supposedly “lost” my knack for zeroing in on the best items a restaurant has to offer, but because I shouldn’t have to have that knack in the first place. What’s the point of including various menu options if not all those options are worthy of exclamation? And while I’m pontificating like the man who pontificated to me as a child, what’s the point of dining out if every meal is going to be like a game of Russian roulette?

I think I’m going to hedge my bets on the cute blazer at Anthropologie and a quinoa salad at home next time.

Either that, or just let someone else make all ordering decisions for me.

reservoir
1700 Silver Lake Boulevard
Los Angeles, California 90026
Phone: (323) 662-8655

Green & Black's Organic Dark Chocolate w/ Hazelnuts & Currants

2009-10-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

I’m a creature of the habits. My morning routine is practically obsessive compulsive in nature, I get extremely irritable if I have to miss my regular Monday and Wednesday Bar Method classes, and during the week, I eat basically the same breakfast (oatmeal) and lunch (turkey sammies) every day.

My most recent habit seems to be composing chocolate-related posts for Fridays. I’m not sure if it’s because recipes and restaurant reviews are more time consuming, and my mind starts turning to chalky boxed mashed potaters by the end of the week, or if it’s because of some sort of subconscious association. Since I consider chocolate to be a reward (for finishing lunch, taking out the trash, getting up from my chair, etc.), and Fridays to be a reward for getting through the week, it obviously follows that Fridays should also be associated with chocolate.

I’ll break it down in logical terms.

Given: Chocolate = Reward
Given: Friday = Reward
Conclusion: Chocolate = Friday

Okay fine, so my theory may be a bit of a stretch. But Freud’s theories were a stretch too, and he’s all sorts of famous for them! Yes, the man was completely bonkers, but geniuses are almost always a bit delusional. Einstein clearly needed a little help in the hair department. And hello? Willy Wonka could totally have made a guest appearance in One Flew Over the Cookoo’s Nest!

Which brings me back to the original point – chocolate.

Today, because it’s Friday, I’m going to discuss the Green & Black's organic dark chocolate bar with hazelnuts and currants that my friend Anna of Banana Wonder gave me for my birthday. Of course, since I have already written a 238 word nonsensical intro, the discussion will be brief.

This bar is everything that the previously reviewed Chocolove Cherry and Almond Dark Chocolate wishes it could be. While both are made with a very palatable dark chocolate, their fillings are at opposite ends of the spectrum of deliciouness (I’ll expound more on that theory at a later date). Whereas the almond bits and dismal cherry shards are few and far between in the Chocolove bar that boasts a 55% cocoa content, the hazelnuts and currants are meaty and plentiful in Green & Black’s 60% cocoa bar. I also prefer the segmentation of the Green & Black’s bar that allows me to break off individual pieces for a more refined and restrained eating experience. I wouldn’t want to look piggy whilst obtaining my dark chocolate antioxidants, now would I?

Most certainly not! I have a theory on that one as well…

Given: People who take big, greedy bites look like pigs.
Given: People who eat chocolate have the potential to look like pigs.
Given: People who take small, restrained bites are less likely to look like pigs than people who take big bites.
Conclusion 1: People who take big, greedy bites of chocolate look pig-like.
Conclusion 2: People who take small, restrained bites of chocolate do not look pig-like.

Now that is what I call genius. I think I’ll reward myself with some chocolate for the mental effort.

Top Chef Season 6, Episode 7: Say it ain't so Michael, say it ain't so!

2009-10-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

Lots of crazy going on in last night’s episode of “Top Chef,” but there’s really only one thing that matters. Robin is still there at the end – heinous purple lipstick and all.

Of course, since this is a “Top Chef” re-cap and not a “Top Chef” sound byte, I suppose I should dig a little deeper. I like to dig. Just like Ash likes to dig himself into holes with his chatterbox. But more on that later.

The episode starts out with a few new revelations about the Top Cheffians – Michael Voltaggio has two kids (aww, we love him even more now!), and Ash never went to culinary school. Uh oh… it’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, wait… it’s… an underdog! “Top Chef” really likes to play up the underdogs. Remember crazy “hooty-hoo” Carla from last season? She was fun. Too bad Ash is just sort of taking up kitchen space with his mostly inconsequential dishes. He’s tall, awkward, but also pretty much the nicest nice guy this side of the Mississippi. He’s so nice it kind of makes me want to throw up. Maybe that’s why Jenn C. was hugging the porcelain crown before the Quickfire? Or maybe she just got a sneak peak of Padma’s green onesie… seriously Padma? Seriously?

So Jenn’s throwing up which is great considering she’s about to cook food (hope Tyler Florence isn’t a germ-a-phob!), Padma is trying out maternity clothes for a future bun in her oven, and Robin is still attempting to convince everyone that she is deserving to be there. Great job, kids. Really, excellent work! This should be an awesome Quickfire Challenge. I mean did you know that guest judge Tyler Florence has books? And a TV show? Oh, and I guess he cooks things too.

For the high-stakes challenge that offers the winner a choice of immunity from elimination or $15,000 courtesy of the M Resort (that’s a plug for those that missed it during the episode), the chefs will each randomly receive three key words from a slot machine. They must then use those words to come up with a dish. Translation: Most of the chefs will cook whatever the f* they want and then try to pass it off as whatever it is they drew. Robin, who receives “stressed, umami, and Middle Eastern” decides that means she can just add cumin and chickpeas to her dish. Whatever, Robin. Insert Padma rolling eyes – “ignorant Americans.” Robin’s sheepish response? “Perhaps I blurred the lines a little too much.”

Not sure if she’s talking about the food or the purple guck all over her lips/face…

Eli is also on the bottom for his mushroom ceviche with avocado marble that makes Tyler Florence reach (indiscreetly) for his napkin. Always a good sign. Jenn also lands in the bottom because caviar on scallops is like, duh, so not original. I mean it sounds pretty awesome to me, but then again, I don’t have books or a TV show. Yet.

Michael, Mike I. and Kevin “Red Beard” are on top, and Kevin gets the nod for his char-grilled pork with Vietnamese salad. Me thinks I should start calling him Kevin Bacon. Har har har. But I won’t because I like his beard way too much for that. He opts for the $15,000 courtesy of the M resort (woohoo another plug alert!) instead of the immunity and everybody claps for him. Yay, Kevin! Good decision! Everybody loves Kevin.

For the elimination challenge the chefs are sent back home with the mysterious directive, “Go home and enjoy a home-cooked meal.” Right. Because “Top Chef” is all about having a golly gee grand ole time. The twists are starting to wear on the chefs, and even the tough-as-pig ear Jenn admits that it is “mentally exhausting to walk into a twist every single day.” I’m starting to feel a little sorry for the poor blokes, but then Nancy Silverton, my chef idol, appears on camera and I start squealing like a foodiot. She’s standing next to Govind Armstrong, Tom Douglas and Takashi Yagihashi, all of whom are holding bags of food that the chefs will have to use to prepare dinner for the judges, Nancy, Govind, Tom and Takashi. They will draw knives for their bag of food and partner, and will then have three hours to cook one family-style dish together.

Mike Isabella reflects that there is only one person he doesn’t want to work with (Robin), and because Murphy’s Law seems to really love him in this episode (he also receives Takashi’s Asian food which he isn’t familiar with), he, of course, is paired off with Robin. Isn’t it romantic? Actually, no. But it is fun to see him mock and ignore her. The ignoring actually proves to be a good tactic. He gives her little things to do “that [won’t] affect the final product” and she just babbles away, happy as a little clam. If clams wore purple lipstick... (that’s the last purple lipstick joke, promise!)

Kevin and Jenn C are working with Tom Douglas’ bag of Asian condiments and bok choy and decide to do barbecued kobe beef with cardamom and tomato ginger broth. They seem like an odd couple, but are pretty cute together – a nice juxtaposition of cuddly and prickly. Lorraine and Bryan aren’t given much camera time as they work with Tyler Florence’s ingredients which in “Top Chef” speak means there is no fear of disaster here. They’ll be fine as wine.

Eli and Ashley, who are making spot prawns with gnocchi, red beet crème fraiche sauce and kale, and Ash and Michael, who are whipping up pancetta-wrapped halibut with egg yolk ravioli and asparagus, are quickly established as the ones on chopping block watch. Ashley nervously takes command of cooking the delicate prawns, leaving Eli to get a little too friendly with the salt shaker on the rest of the dish. And in the other room, Michael’s electric frying pan blows a circuit while he’s trying to cook the fish. Not good, not good at all.

The snooze fest of a dinner party (aside from the lovely Ms. Silverton, of course) pretty much confirms all suspicions. Ashley’s prawns are undercooked, the gnocchi are too salty, Michael’s halibut is overcooked and too mushy with the egg yolk ravioli (a pasta dish that is coincidentally served at Ms. Silverton’s Osteria Mozza in LA). They all land in the bottom, and golden boy Michael is seriously stressed out. So much so that even calm as a cup of chamomile tea Bryan is started to freak out for him. It’s rather cute actually – big brother looking out for little brother in the middle of the Nevada desert. Seriously, someone get a camera – this is like a “Family Matters” moment!

Well, it is until Ash has to go and steal Bryan’s sensitive soul thunder at the Judge’s table. He boldly tells Padma, the seriously de-clawed Toby Young, Tom, and Tyler that his ideas weren’t as good as Michael’s ideas, and then likens Michael to Picasso – Ash doesn’t mind playing second fiddle to the culinary genius. It’s probably the most selfless moment in “Top Chef” history. Ash attaches a giant “insert knife here X” across his chest and Michael is humbled into speechlessness.

Fortunately good karma is preserved for all mankind, and the judges deem Ashley’s undercooked prawns the greater sin instead. She’s sent packing, and everyone breathes a big collective sigh of relief for Picasso. I mean, Golden boy. I mean, Michael! He’s a daddy -- did you hear?

Kevin “Red Beard” and Jenn C. and Bryan and Lorraine are on top for their kobe beef with cardamom and tomato ginger broth, and halibut with sherry chorizo vinaigrette and corn cake, respectively, and Mike and Robin sneak through to the next round via the middle ground. Ultimately, Kevin and Jenn are awarded the win, with Jenn getting the nod for her righteous sauce. Apparently, germs are super delicious when combined with tomatoes. Hope it isn’t swine flu! (Though I bet Kevin Bacon wouldn’t mind that scenario too much.)

Jenn wins a $10,000 gift certificate for Macy’s (hello, plug!) and reflects that “Kevin will probably get a suit out of it.” Mental images abound on this one. Kevin “Red Beard” in a suit—mmm, yes, please! Hope she throws in the comical bacon tie too…

Peach, Edamame, Avocado, Corn Quinoa Salad: Yes, I really am the Quinoa Queen

2009-10-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

I didn’t plan to have quinoa again this past Saturday, honest! It just sort of happened… like how Kristin Cavallari just happened to set her sights on the recently hoboesque Justin Bobby on the series premiere of “The Hills” last week. Seriously, Kristin? The man looks like he’s been on "Survivor: Large remote mountain range" for the past two months! Well, except for his newish slightly pudgier bits. Me thinks he needs to lay off the beer and partake in more quinoa…

But that’s just me.

And me is obsessed with the stuff.

Obviously.

As I was saying (or more accurately, rambling), I didn’t actually wake up on Saturday thinking, “I’m a gonna make some quinoa salad for lunch today!” I woke up thinking, “Bed so comfy… don’t want to go running juuuust yet.” But I did. Because I’m a good little exerciser. Plus, I really needed to burn off the prosciutto-wrapped shrimp, scallops, bread pudding and wine I’d had at 230 Forest Ave. with my parents the night before. Mmm bread pudding… mmm I’m a fatty…

So I did my little run thang, and then my mom and I did our little compulsive erranding thing (my car needed to be serviced, we needed to find my dad a non-cowboy-esque hat for his birthday and short ribs needed purchasing for our dinner that evening). It was a lot of chasing around, and we didn’t actually get back to my parents’ house until after 1 pm -- feeding time.

My mom and I thought about going out for a light bite, but unlike Los Angeles, Orange County is remarkably devoid of restos with healthy salads and such. There are lots of places with not-so-healthy salads (Yardhouse and Cheesecake Factory come to mind), but nothing like Urth Caffe or M Café de Chaya or even the woefully mediocre Toast. So we made faces at each other and grumbled about our hunger until I finally said, “Let’s just make lunch!” (Translation: I’m a gonna cook us something!)

I took a quick surveillance of the goods in the house – a ripe peach, a nearly overripe avocado, some feta, an ear of corn, frozen edamame, green onions, and limes – and realized that I had all the makings for the perfect quinoa salad. I briefly considered throwing in the red and white checked kitchen towel for a simple grilled cheese sammy, but ultimately couldn’t resist the sweet allure of my favorite grain.

Thirty minutes later, my mom and I sat down to a knockout lunch that was better than most of the meals we could have had out about town. It was healthy, yet satisfying enough to keep our energy up for the rest of our erranding that day. I don’t care if I’m mocked, bullied or snubbed for my addiction. When lunch tastes as good as this salad did, I will proudly wear my “Quinoa Queen” crown for all to see. It’s certainly better than showing other things for all to see. I’ll leave that business to the girls on “The Hills.”

Peach, Edamame, Avocado, Corn Quinoa Salad
Serves 2

½ cup quinoa prepared according to package directions
1 peach, skinned and cubed
1 cup cooked shelled edamame
1 ear corn, boiled and husked
½ avocado, diced
2 green onions/scallions, sliced into aesthetically pleasing slivers
3 tablespoons feta cheese

Honey Lime Vinaigrette
2 tablespoons lime juice
1 teaspoon lime zest
1 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon olive oil
Salt, pepper to taste

Whisk together lime juice, lime zest, honey, red wine vinegar, olive oil and salt/pepper to taste. Set aside.

Mix quinoa with peach, edamame, corn, avocado, green onion and then dress with vinaigrette. Top with feta cheese. Eat.

Raspberry White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Blondies: "Mmm... good"

2009-10-06T09:00:00.000-07:00

“Mmm… good.” My dad groaned from his chair by the fire on Saturday evening.

I grinned from across the room, flush with feelings of triumph and, after taking a bite myself, satisfaction. They were “mmm…good.”

Up until 3 pm that day, I’d had no idea what I was going to bake my dad for his birthday. I’d done oatmeal raisin cookies, done carrot cake cookies and had overdone my family’s favorite peanut butter paisley brownies. I wanted to do something different – something special and worthy of holding a birthday candle. The only caveat? It couldn’t contain much (or any) chocolate.

I considered zucchini oatmeal cookies with dried cranberries and walnuts, and toyed around with the idea of toffee apple cookies, as well. But cookies are more of an everyday affair – a lunch box dessert for children, an afternoon snack, or, as it was when I was growing up, a viable breakfast option. Despite my family’s affection for the humble cookie, I had something else in mind on Saturday – not cake, not pie, not bread pudding (though that is rather delicious), but blondies.

Blondies are the perfect solution to any dessert debacle. A cross between a cookie and a brownie, they are "infinitely adaptable" depending on one’s palate, mood or hormone level. If I’m feeling like I need chocolate to prevent myself from snapping an irritant’s neck off, I can saturate the bars with loads of chocolate chips and chocolate frosting. If I’m feeling like I need to pretend to be healthy, I can add oatmeal or dried fruit or Omega-3 rich nuts. And if I want to please my dad, apparently, all I need to do is add fresh raspberries, roasted macadamia nuts and white chocolate chips. (Topping it with vanilla ice cream doesn’t hurt either.)

Seeing the smile on his face on Saturday night made it pretty clear to me why chefs, bakers and other epicurean geniuses do what they do. While I did enjoy my piece (err… two and a half pieces) of raspberry, white chocolate, macadamia nut blondie, the best part was hearing how much my dad liked them. It was an incredible feeling to know that he thought something I came up with was “mmm…good.” It’s moments like this that make all the kitchen fails, arm burns and cut fingers worth it.

Especially when I think the dessert is “mmm… good” too.

Raspberry, White Chocolate, Macadamia Nut Blondies
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

1 cup, 2 tablespoons flour
½ cup (1 cube) unsalted butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ cup roasted macadamia nuts, coarsely chopped
¾ cup white chocolate chips
1 cup fresh raspberries, coarsely chopped (reserve half for top)
Sea salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease a 8 x 8 glass baking dish.

Melt butter over stove and then pour over brown sugar. Mix together with electric beater and then add egg, vanilla. Beat together approximately 2 minutes. Add flour, baking soda and stir until just combined. Add macadamia nuts, white chocolate chips, ½ cup of raspberries. Spread into pan and then top with remaining raspberries.

Bake for approximately 35-40 minutes or until golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean (ie. not sticky).