Coni Berliner Farms Fresh Eggs

local, organic, and grown by my own mom! these are the worlds best eggs and honestly, until i started getting these eggs as precious little gifts from my mom, i had no idea what a really fresh egg tasted like. i had no idea what a beautiful, deep orange gold the yolk could be. and what better to do with such brilliant fresh eggs? poach 'em and splash 'em with hollandaise sauce of course!

Sauteed Gnocchi with Butternut Squash and Sage Cream

i'm pretty sure this is a pretty classic flavor combination: sweet squash, floral sage, salty prosciutto, all bound together in bath of cream. the sauce took on the beautiful color of the squash and made for a colorful base to the sauteed gnocchi.

the gnocchi were hand made with only 1 egg this time, and i may try an eggless dough next time. but instead of boiling i was inspired by a recent trip to db Modern Bistro, and instead sauteed them in butter. the result was  a nice, crisp exterior with a typically silky gnocchi interior. i am pretty certain this is now my favorite gnocchi preparation. guess i'll have to keep eating gnocchi in order to find out!

A New Kind of Smoking

it's funny how some thins can be built up in your mind to be bigger than they really are. i had prided myself for a long time on knowing the difference between grilling and bbq, but i had only ever done the former. bbq'ing, the simple act of cooking with low, indirect heat and flavoring with wood smoke, seemed so difficult that i was scared to ever try. i didn't have a smoker, i didn't have the time; all i had were a bunch of excuses.

well i finally manned up and smoked some meat and you know what? it wasn't all that hard. now don't get me wrong, the art of bbq, as practiced by all those pitmaster savants is exactly that - art. and my bbq was nothing like that, but it was good, solid bbq. here's how it went down.

learning
i'll make this quick - after years of watching on tv, reading in various books and magazines, and listening to any and all wise words from anyone who had knowledge to share, i ended up at one website for all the specifics: http://amazingribs.com/. Craig "Meathead" Goldwyn, a pro que circuit judge, lays down the most specific, well written instructions i could find, collected in one free place. and sometimes "instructions" are exactly what i need; especially the first time i try something that seems difficult to me. in then end, two days later, i was so satisfied with the results that i now feel like i have the solid foundation of understanding required to start the refinement process.

shopping
shopping, as always, was easy - i just headed straight to Pape's. hey, that kinda rhymes: "straight to Pape." check it out if you live on the penninsula: http://www.yelp.com/biz/pape-meat-co-millbrae. i picked up 15 pounds of pork spare ribs and had the butcher trim them down to st. louis cut ribs, which basically means the ribs are cut at a natural joint, resulting in a nice, squared off rack. observe the 15 pound bag of sad pig:

rubbing
prep is certainly one of my fav parts of cooking and good bbq requires lots of prep. first, the membrane on the bone side of the racks was, quite painstakingly, removed with a knife, some pliers and a pirate ship full of cursing. after the membrane removal, spices were gathered and measured in accordance with the "memphis dust" rub recipe. please notice the sierra nevada bottle standing guard, making sure that i was happy and adding love to every last grain of preparation. once the "dust" was mixed, tasted and ready to rock, the ribs were given a good rub with the dust, wrapped up in ziplock bags, and put to rest in the fridge for the next 24 hours. at this point my ocd and love of prep had kicked in and i snapped a few photos:

smoking
i have very little photographic evidence of this stage, but it was by far the most surprising and the most fun. in a massive show of self control (one of three in my life) i managed to not party too hard the night before with the very same friends whose parties typically leave me in a semi-vegetative state for at least a day. instead i came home early, got a good night's rest, and was up at 9am to get smokin'.

i wanted to eat at 3pm, assumed a 5 hour cook, and figured on an hour to prepare. although the prep took a bit longer than i thought, was able to stabalize the smoker at 230 degrees F or so. throughout the cook, when the temp started creeping up i would just open the door to cool things down a bit. i loaded up the wood chip pan with hickory (because i couldn't find apple) wood and by 10:30 am, the smoker was pumping out a beautiful, fragrant, plume of smoke. holy crap. see the photo above for the glorious sight that has certainly changed my life. i don't know what i was expecting, but seeing that smoke, knowing that it really is that easy, sent me to cloud nine. or cloud hickory. whatever.

the ribs had been out of the fridge, coming to room temp of course, and in they went. 10:30am on the nose. a couple victory swigs of the Glenfiddich were in high order so swigged away did i. some friends had joined the party at this point, and all kinds of other prep was under way. however i never got very far from the smoker and probably checked the temp every 15 minutes. after about an hour i could no longer resist the urge to take a look. so i did.

dear god it was beautiful. there was melted fat dripping ever so slowly and the spice rubbed ribs were glistening with brilliance. there were beautiful, pitch black splotches here and there along the bottom edges of the racks. and the smell was out of this world. i let the smoke go for another 30 minutes, for a total of about 1.5 hours of smoke, and then took out the wood. (a bit longer than i read, but shorter than my more experienced neighbor recommended.)

more victory swigs.

3 hours into the cook and it was time for the "texas crutch," which is a means for infusing a bit of flavor, tenderness and moisture back into the ribs. i pulled out the racks and wrapped them in foil pouches with about a cup of apple juice per pouch. the pouches were put back into the cook for an hour and then removed again. the ribs were then returned, sans crutch, to the smoker for the final 40 minutes of cooking. at almost exactly 4 hours and 40 minutes, i grabbed my tongs, took a rack lengthwise with the tong tips about half way up the rack and gave it a little bounce. the surface cracked ever so gently and the meat just under the surface looked moist and succulent. victory.

saucing
the final step was at hand. i removed the racks from teh smoker, cranked up the grill to high and painted my hand made bbq sauce onto the racks. the racks then got "sizzled" on the hot grill and basted a few times with more sauce. sadly, i "sizzled" a bit too long and made the surface of the racks more dry that i wanted. next time i think 4-5 minutes per side, just to crust up the sauce, would be more than sufficient.

and that was that. i cut the ribs into single ribs and the party loved 'em. i was pretty proud for my first attempt. bummed i only got the final parting photo. but hey, at least, if you look really close, you can see a bit of the prized pink smoke ring. victory indeed...

Roasting in the City...

ah bachelor life. i am not saying i miss it. i don't. i'm just enjoying the bit of it that is flying by me like a cloud. presently, as i have been for the past 4 days, i'm staying at hedda and leonard's place in japan town. it was crab night upon my arrival on tuesday. if there's one thing, and trust me, there are many, many more, that hedda knows well it's crab dinner. you see, she loves crab. and, i've been told, that our crabbing season is simply "the bers:" september, october, november (, december? i don't know, i can't recall having crab in the christmas season...). today's date, october ninth, puts us square in the middle of that glorious season, that yearly gift of culinary bliss: crab dinner season! sadly, overcome with joy, frenzy, shell cracking, i failed to take any photographs what-so-ever. oh, but did i mention the treasure hiding in the fridge? the oxtail marinating in love (wine, herbs, vegetables)? no? well, allow me to explain the three day love affair between us and the oxtails.

day one
using the "pot au feu" recipe in the french laundry cookbook as our guide, we set out marinating oxtail, rather than short ribs, overnight. and by we, i mean hedda. good lookin' out girl, good lookin out...

day two
(ok, at this point im just diving into the cooking) we separate out the meat, the marinade and the vegetables in preparation. this night's plan was to: 1) brown the oxtail, 2) clarify the marinade and cook the oxtail and 3) make pasta for dinner. everything swent swimmingly and thus we have steve and leonard enjoying a few beers along with the pasta.

but, first of course, was browning the oxtail. the marinade was separated from the vegetables and the oxtail. the oxtail, once seasoned, were browned in oil and placed in the le crueset. quickly sauteed, and, i think it is important to note, seasoned, vegetables followed. while all of that was happening, the marinade was bubbling away, being skimmed, painstakingly, every few minutes. repetitive, focused little motions, steps, tasks... i find a lot of comfort in that, so i skimmed and skimmed and skimmed for about an hour. when the oxtail and vegetables were both settled in for a long, slow boiling, we added the clarified marinade and enough stock to cover.

up to a boil over medium heat, certainly not in a rush here, and then into the oven.

after somewhere just shy of five hours, maybe four, the oxtail was tender and the sauce seasoned. that was the end of the cooking for the oxtail that day. off the heat more skimming occurred, and, after hours, the pot was put in the fridge for the night.

day three
sadly, leonard had to work late, or normal relative to his schedule. so hedda and i did some shopping at molly stones to pick up potatos and celery root, aka celeriac to serve with the oxtail. i won't get into the details, but that little trip to molly stone's turned into a very amusing, very quirky, trip that included the phrases: "only king of potatos, oh i know all about THOSE kind of friends, no - he's my best friend's husband, and i like chinese girls too." complete whackyness.

at home, the cooking commenced. the potatos and celeriac were peeled, chopped, covered with water and brough to a boil. after scrapping up and tossing the fat that had risen to the surface, the oxtail pot was returned to the stovetop to warm up over a medium heat. once the liquid in the pot had melted, out came the oxtail and vegetable - oxtail into a big container in a warm oven, vegetables into the garbage. the remaining sauce was then reduced over heat for about 20 minutes. and guess what, it was skimmed almost constantly. once reduced to a sauce consistency, it was seasoned to taste.

this resulted in the three primary components: meltingly tender oxtail, a very strong, red wine based sauce, and boiled potatos and celeriac. the potatos and cleriac were mashed with about 15 pounds of butter and quart of cream (and yes, that's an exageration) into a smooth and creamy consistency. i'd like to point out that leonard, who was home at that point, couldn't find the potato masher so i, brimming to the gills with liquid courage, took after mashing those potatos and celeriac with two wooden spoons and a loud "hell yea!"

and that just about did it. we plated, we served and...

sadly the photo just doesn't do it justice. we were really, really proud of this one. the oxtail was tender, the sauce savory and the mash nicely creamy. not only that, but we had a lot of fun cooking, as usual.

so that's it. through the haze of good times, my four day roast in the city that i love, with the friends that i love, doing the things that i love, missing the ones that i love. cheers...

Lonely App and Dessert

Ack, need more words here... Main point is that the braised oxtails Hedda made were so tastey that no photographs were taken. The appetizer and dessert were both good tood, and here's the photos:

Gnocchi 3 Ways and Osso Bucco

Ah the adventures... 4 pounds of veal shanks, hand made gnocchi and the opportunity to obsessibly chop veg. Dig.

Japanese Poser Plate (and the 6th Grade)

this past may, babe and i had the pleasure of juliet, jennifer and baby maddison visiting from vancouver. juliet and jennifer, twin sisters, are two of alisa's oldest friends. juliet's lovely daughter maddison, is just a few months older than lucas. the visit was a blast and i got to cook dinner for one of the evenings. the twins, rockin' chicks as they are, love their steaks rare. that being the case, and since i live but to serve, rare steaks were served...




so what's up with the poser plate you ask? do you even remember the word poser? the word, like an old familiar tune, ringing just barely in earshot, takes me back to a sweetly simple time. 1986. sixth grade. we were rockin' the long bangs and, like 11 year olds with turrets, we would shake our heads in vain attempts to get those long bangs out of our faces. we were blooming idiots, by which i mean idiots that were blooming, eyes peeled open by the wonders of a world that was bigger, grander and, most importantly, ours for the taking. lead fearlessly by devious older brothers, we were learning about rock music, the glorious fact that girls weren't actually "grodey," nor did they have cooties, and those crazy, pioneering lords of the skating world: caballero, hawk, mountain. the list goes on. skating was it, it was the bangs in our faces, the sweet ass vans shoes with skulls, the sure fire way to come home every day with bloody knees.

it was the line between the glory of truth and the shame of being a poser. posers were the ones who talked the talk but couldn't ollie the curb at full speed.

ah, good days. hence the title of this post. my plate, with the carefully placed pile of spinach, chopped in ribbons, tossed with a fresh white balsamic and fresh peach vinaigrette and topped with seasame seeds, the four squares of firm tofu, glazed with a miso, mirin and sugar reduction and broiled, and the two (not one or three) tempura prawns, doused in mayo, soy and sugar, was a poser. it was a pretty good poser though, not only lookin quasi-japanese in organization and precision, but tasting fairly good as well. do you ever get raw spinach at a japanese restaurant? rarely. peach dressing? i've never. well, cest la vie. the guests were happy and, bonus, i got to trip myself down memory lane...