Opportunity/Shmoppertunity

Third handed disappointment at not having a third hand, but actually a hardened tendon squeezing itself along a nerve, alls well that end wells, I've been kicked out of the kitchen, put on worker's comp and I've entered every chef's nightmare...

No, not that one with the scary ass horses, 

this one...

The dreaded 9-5, M-F, desk job

In the dungeon of the restaurant I dust flour from our adjoining bakery, organize paperwork, rewrite employer manuals, and more organizing.  Jokes on them, they don't know how anal retentive I can be, the lists I can make, the plans I have...

My boyfriend, of the banana omelette degree has fallen in love with this, his lunches are now prepared on Sunday and organized in Tupperware to coordinate with each day.  I'm like a Mother F***ing Stewart, and no it's not a "good thing".

Truth be told, it's my only creative outlet, they can keep me out of the kitchen, but they can't keep me from cooking, Tupperware lunches, and dinners at home are now my vice, running home, creating mise en place, eating delicious and sadly well balanced meals.  What's become of me?!

This weeks lunches consisted of:

Cold shrimp pad thai with asparagus and pickled ginger

Pasta pesto salad with spinach and goat cheese

Egg Salad sandwiches

PBJ, granola bar, apple 

Cobb Salad: avocado, bacon, tomato, grilled chicken, lettuce, hard boiled egg, maple mustard vinaigrette

I'm self disgusted.

Welcome Back Jesus/Last Meal

I challenged my friend at  Classic Noise (a fantastic fashion blog) to do the following:

In honor (?) of the Rapture (where Jesus sneaks back to earth, works ninja style for about five months, and something and picking and choosing who's been naughty and who's been nice and then ending the world in five months...or something along those lines, I'm a lapsed catholic I'm fairly certain I missed the boat on this one...)
What would you wear as to Jesus' Welcome Back Party? Would it be festive, would it be somber, would it be tasteful...
In that same vein...what would you wear for your last day on earth?

now my turn

Welcome Back Jesus

First off I think I'd play the greatest hits of Motown, because they're classic, everyone loves them, and for the most part, I doubt he'd be offended.

To be cheeky I'd probably serve Deviled Eggs, and in contrast I'd make Angel Food Cake for dessert.  In the middle, hell, I'd probably just make a pizza, because everyone loves pizza, maybe along the lines of a pizza and prosecco party, that way everyone can choose their own topping and Jesus can show off some mad skills, which I'm assuming he still has.

My Last Meal

There's too much to choose from, poutine with foie gras gravy? the most delicious burger with the world's best fries and vanilla milkshake? or steak with fries, salad, and chocolate profiteroles with a great glass of red wine for dessert?

OR

Starter:

Poutine with foie gras gravy

THEN

the most delicious burger with the world's best fries and vanilla milkshake

AND THEN

I have no idea. Never been one for desserts. I'd probably be too full anyways...

A Cook's Books

A day off is often spent by rearranging furniture, scrubbing with murphy's oil soap (my friend went to the prom with the heir, i went to prom with an younger/older/fatter elvis, i was less than shook up), and reorganizing cookbooks...just me then?
Looking through all of my cookbooks, and reorganizing them, I got to thinking about my old obsession of constantly buying cookbooks.
At first I raided my mother's massive collection of Jaques Pepin, Julia Child, and Joyce Chen.  It was followed by my grandmother giving me all of her french cookbooks from her days in the convent.  I then became technical, "culinary artistry", "what to drink with what you eat", "what Einstein told his cook".  This was followed by everything Bourdain and Kurlansky, quickly followed by everything Maine: "The secret life of lobsters", anything by Jasper White, and L.L. Bean (the man, not the store). 

I then collected the Culinaria series, the WHOLE Culinaria series.
I now collect, "French Feasts", "Pork and Sons" and "Au pied de cochon".  That's right I've moved onto Food Porn, not the tall food, with pictures of smoke, and fumes, essences,  the microscopic food, where you need a magnifying glass to see...I go for the River Cottage style, "here's the pig in the field" to "here's the pig in your stew"
Nothing fancy, everything good, delicious, sometimes toying with you, making you curse that you can't comfortably eat pictures. 

Chicken as a Color

A good friend of mine spent some time teaching English as a second language.  My favorite story was the day she was asking her class for synonyms for the color beige.  Tan was nominated, light brown was declared and from the back of the room, someone offered up "chicken".  

At first we laughed at the idea of painting a room the color chicken, but then we got into the details, was it raw or roasted? More pink or more brown in it's undertones...Egg Shell is a famous color, why not Chicken Flesh?

This topic of beige rolled over into another question on the mind of everyone, 

If all their food is in shades of beige, is it a bad restaurant (chicken, potatoes, gravy)
I heard someone say this about Swiss Chalet once

Is there truth to this statement?  I know that food with more color is better for you, the most colorful fruits and vegetables are higher in vitamins.  And I'm not advocating that we all go to Swiss Chalet a very beige/chicken - color forward menu, however I find myself often craving and missing the Quebec answer to the Chalet, St. Hubert.  Many winter nights were spent ordering three piece chicken and fries (I get it, you're judging me, I'm a chef at high end restaurants and I crave chicken ordered in multiples of three, and fried potatoes, leave me alone)

Beige ain't so bad...

It tastes pretty

Lavender Blueberry Ice Cream

It just tastes pretty

Kitchen Couture

This dress has had the following comments:
This dress is so right
This dress is so wrong
Is that a pickle?

I'm undecided, it's either so right because it's so wrong, or it's just wrong.  Also I think I do see a pickle.
Gaga had her meat dress.  I have my meat dress*

*full disclosure, I don't own this dress, I won't own this dress, mainly because I couldn't own this dress

Forager's Foie Gras

I never said I was eloquent, and those who know this best are my bartenders...
Describing the menu in delectable terms has always been a challenge, I tend to gain points for creativity, such as describing St. George Mushrooms as "Buttery Midgets", or Raclette having strong flavor, mild odor (that last one isn't so bad, until my bartender used the voice of a 1970's porn actor to truly portray the alliteration...)

Apparently their all time favorite has been dubbed as the following:

Gravel Pit Foie

"Upta" camp foie

Roadside foie
Pissa foie

Here is how it was written on the menu

Wood grilled Moulard Foie Gras 
with grilled cattail hearts, sumac honey, with garlic chive and parsley salad

For those who don't know, cattail hearts are from cattail plants, see below:

They grow in swamps, I do not advise that you forage for these on your own.

Sumac spice, is from sumac flowers, from the sumac tree:

Again this looks much like poison sumac, so don't just go ahead and start gnawing on the next one you see...

Garlic chives grow everywhere:

Like weeds...

A chef once told me, if it grows together, it goes together.  The dish was beautiful, and clever.

However when describing this to my bartender I said the following:

"Say you take a piss on the side of the road, when you're headin' upta camp, and you look out and you see sumacs, and cattails, and garlic chives and you think to yourself..."foie gras"? This is that dish"

Like I said, I'm not known for my eloquence.

Fast preps, three hands

For those who may or may not know, I was recently diagnosed with tendinitis, which despite my best efforts, is career ending.  That being said, I still work, I'm just not allowed to chop, flip, twirl, spin, butcher, cut, use tongs, whisks or spatulas. That being said, I do all of the above and choose to ignore the pain.
What's harder to ignore, is the hardened mass on my right wrist.  I can only assume that it's a replacement hand, which will come in useful for many things: awkward high fives, uncomfortable handshakes, mean games of thumb wars, etc.
So while I'm still needed in the kitchen, those who know me, don't allow me to help, they're all invested in "helping me get better". Lame.
The new guy, however, isn't privy to my "injury", and thusly asked me to do his preps today!

Diver Harvest Scallops with marinated cucumbers, and wild spring ramp ripened cream.

Done.

Use your words.

Problem:

If the restaurant closes at 10pm, and your reservation is at 7:30pm, when do you arrive and how do you order?

Solution:

Arrive at 9:55pm and decide to do a four course tasting dinner, selecting one item at a time, it's cool, we don't mind waiting, we're gettin' cash money...well not cash...but some form of monetary...well, no...it's fine though, gives us time to clean up, and stare at you while you eat, each bite.

Also if you're coming in to celebrate you're 21st birthday, you may want to remember your I.D.

you just didn't look 21, and you were late, by 2.5 hours.

Hunting pork

Friends Facebook Status

Bozeman peeps: I want to get a pork belly for a dinner I'm having on Thursday... any recs for farmers I can contact or reputable butchers in town??

9 hours ago ·  · 

• Larry Yee likes this.
• • 

     just find a pig...

    3 minutes ago · 
  • 

     live is fine

    2 minutes ago · 
  • 

     shoot to kill

    2 minutes ago · 
  • 

     butcher yourself

    2 minutes ago · 
  • 

     yes i'm suggesting you hunt your pork

    2 minutes ago · 
  • 

     for your pork

    2 minutes ago · 
  • 

     this took an ugly turn

    2 minutes ago · 
  • 

    Oh no. That whole string was brilliant.

    4 minutes ago · 

    
    

    
    

    

    
    

    
    

You can pick your nose, you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your friend's nose: however you CAN pick rocks out of your friend's onion patch

What else is one to do on a saturday off?
One could stay in, eat pizza and watch a "Ninja Warrior" marathon, OR one could wake up at 7am go to Turkey Hill Farms and volunteer.

By choosing to volunteer, I have to admit that I was lured in by the promise of bacon, sausage and pancakes, all farm fresh.  There's a very small list of things I wouldn't do for the promise of pork products and good pancakes.    After watching a baby chow down on some blueberry compote, and watching a child with a chiquita banana warrior sticker in the middle of his forehead, it was time to do some serious farm work.  My job was designated to picking up all the rocks in a field of rocks, so that we could later plant onions.
I'll admit, at first I was put off by the task, gray skies, a cool breeze, miles and miles of rocks...I started to have images of mother Russia, and me as a babushka saying, "in russia, rocks farm you".

But after half an hour, I got into a rhythm and was thrilled to be outdoors, literally playing in the dirt.  There was something satisfying about plopping down in any old spot and filling up a bucket, sort of like "Blueberries for Sal" but with rocks, not blueberries.
Three and a half hours later, the field was picked, and I was satisfied. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with food again...

I told you, I'll do anything for the promise of bacon and sausage.

Seattle revisited: Memories of simple flavors...

maybe it was the wal(not) so pesto that reminded me of travels and tastes of seattle, actually i'm certain of it. 

Simple flavors tend to be the best of flavors, why attempt over the top sensational  too creative something new no ones seen before, when sardines need nothing more than walnuts, parsley and lemon.  The Walrus and the Carpentar, knows this very well, every plate brought to us was perfect.  Right down to the warm dates in sea salt and rich olive oil.  When people seem to be trying to so hard to be the next big thing, to reinvent the classics, when the classics are so good to start with.  Walnuts and parsley are so good together, they may be the Calvin Klein and Chanel of food.  Simple, clean flavors.

Waln(o)t so pesto...

Pesto = pine nuts + Parmesan + basil + lemon + olive oil + 1990s + boredom

Waln(o)t so pesto = walnuts + parmesan + basil + RAMPS + lemon + olive oil + goat cheese

RAMPS in CAPS? But Why?  Simple, ramps are all the rage, though needlessly so, sure I love them, the clean garlic/leek/spring onion flavor, the bright color, the variety of uses, the overabundance turning to over foraging: 

When Digging For Ramps Goes Too Deep

The last one is most certainly a downer, but it's true, and the above article really does a wonderful job of explaining the situation at hand.  

So use them, but know your buyer, and if you love hiking and ramping, know your stuff and please be careful, otherwise we're all back to pine nut pesto...

"When digging for ramps goes too deep"

Simply Soup

It's spring, a time for bright flavors...

Spring Garden Vegetable Soup

Celeriac, potatoes, leeks, celery, parnsips,english peas, lemon juice, vegetable stock, olive oil, 

garnish with basil, ramp and lemon zest

Pictures to follow

National Liver and Onions Day!

For me, you need to add bacon, but hot damn is that one of my favorite meals. Liver in all forms.

Anything from :
My mom's liver, bacon and onions with an egg sunny side up with buttered toast

(recent James Beard Award winner 2011) Prune's monk fish liver with a little soy sauce and lemon.

Pan fried with some maple glazed cipollini, fig and rocket salad with balsamico

Goose liver with pan fried apples, cheesy parsnip mash, a la a rainy day in Budapest

Something so sweet, tender, delicate, salty, smoky, savory...

I know, I know so many people are anti-liver, "ew the toxins" "ew the smell" but I promise you, they're worth another try! Livers are fantastic and good for you! (high in iron) and for those who are less interested in health, add more bacon.

There's New York and there's spicy tofu orange creamsicle...

While I was busy eating at some of the best restaurants in NYC, my man was fending for himself at home.
This is what he made


Fried tofu with red bell peppers, chili powder, garlic, cream and a splash of orange juice

New York is Filling

I just got back from NYC and hot damn am I full.

I like doing things on a whim:

Want to see a cowboy opera?

SURE!

Want to spend a weekend in Old Orchard beach with many quebecers in tiny swim trunks?

SURE!

Want to work with the mafia and hopefully not cross the line into danger and stabbings?

Why not?

Want to go to Stockholm for halloween?

Who doesn't?!

Want to go to NYC for a weekend to spend time your Ottawatonian friend (ottawatonian = a friend from ottawa)

Duh.

Though I've agreed to all of the above this post is mostly concerning the last whim I've agreed to:

Finding a ticket for $120 round trip, leaving immediately after work on a thursday I couldn't say no.

Here are some awkward and wonderful moments that followed:

Arriving in New York I assumed we would be staying at a swanky hotel, because all Canadian city planners on conference get to stay at the "W" right? Wrong. We get to couch surf at Asian Dave's. For the record, I recommend everyone stay there, it's $50/night and it's a pretty sweet set up, and you don't get sold into the sex trade, which is always a nice bonus.

MOMOFUKU: having recently tried a noodle bar in my current location and being horribly disappointed we made the 20 block walk to noodle mecca, MOMOFUKU...glorious pork buns, delicious ramen, a-hole New Yorker's who pushed me to the back of the line so they could plop their pretentious butts down first, it doesn't taste better if you order sooner, and doesn't being rude leave a bitter taste in your mouth?

After eating what we can only assume was an entire pig and all of it's parts, we promptly passed out.

The next morning was spent drinking espresso with old friends, shopping, eating lunch with more friends

having a hooker compliment my boots, watching a delivery man get destroyed by a taxi and having the hookers shout STAY DOWN...the day you take advice from a hooker is the day you...well I can let you finish that sentence.

The day was spent by more shopping and MILK BAR, oh delicious MILK BAR and your cake truffles, and crack pie, though your cereal milk was underwhelming...

The evening was spent with double dinners, one at a Thai Wine Bar...the second at PRUNE. I had to convince my lactarded friend that sweetbreads and monkfish liver were amazing, because they are. We ate, and talked and drank, simple food, done perfectly. Now what's wrong with that?

Back to Asian Dave's at midnight, only to realize we had to be up in 4 hours. Here are some early morning flying tips:

1. 5am is too early to be a swarthy southern sugar daddy to be using the line: Is it hot in here or is it just me? Must be me.

2. 5:15am is too early to be paying $11 for coffee and a bagel

3. 5:30am is too early for a finance call in show with an irritating host

4. 6am is too late to realize you could have slept in and not woken up at 4am for your 10am flight

I won't say I heart NY, but I will now safely say I'm now more moderately comfortable with NY than I was before.