It's Easier to Just Go Out

You know, almost every night of the week—out of habit on weekdays and principle on weekends—I consider dining out.  I wasn't raised on take-out or at a series of chain restaurants, so what makes me such a sucker for them now?  A good, three-dish meal of a main and two sides or a salad is what I think of as a normal dinner.  Yet I'm constantly yearning for an appetizer, entree and dessert.  What is wrong with me!?

In Sydney for work, I've got a list of restaurants a mile long, recommended by coworkers, ex-pats, clients and even the hotel concierge.  And I wouldn't really be comfortable not knowing where to go for pizza or sushi for two weeks.  But what's surprising is that I have the same approach at home in SF.

7x7 Magazine arrives monthly.  Since that's not nearly often enough, I receive daily emails about restaurant openings, celebrity chef gossip or recipes (depending), and the hottest menu items across the city.  7x7 isn't the only daily food newsletter I read.  I also get Tasting Table, Daily Candy, FoodBuzz, Fresh Guide, SF Magazine and Bloomspot.  Between these emails, "water cooler" talk, impressing visiting friends and a desire to conquer great-tasting food in general, my brain could explode with dinner options.  Is this why I want to go out every night?  To stay in the game?

Then again, it's really easy to go out.  Once seated in a sushi restaurant, edamame is nearly instant and sashimi is about 10 minutes out of the gate.  If I'm hungry now, sushi gets it done.  Mexican restaurants get salsa in my belly in even less time.  If the name of the game is quantity, I can get more burrito for my buck than a lot of supermarket proteins.  Is that why I want to go out?  Because it's quick and satisfying?

I don't know when food culture turned from sustenance to obsession.  For me, dining is so many things: comforting; catching up with the person dining with me; a link to a past mood/experience/flavor; even an adventure with a sense of accomplishment at its culmination.  What other action on earth provides so many opportunities?

But I'm rationalizing the appeal of restaurants on a daily basis—why am I not creating these experiences at home night after night?  The truth is, I would if I could.  I love to wake up on a weekend morning with nothing on my mind except how complicated of a meal I can create all day.  I love buying the ingredients and imagining their transformation, sometimes giddy about how sneaky I'll be: "when I'm done with you, you won't even know what you started as!"  Great ingredients are exciting.  I love imagining, then literally selecting which pans I'll use; like a painter choosing brushes.  I love the choreography of the kitchen, from fine calculations that will keep everything moving forward, hot, and on the same schedule, to the cleverness in reusing tools at just the right moment.  I love the smells and the textures and the taste, but you already knew all that!  All of these things just feel impossible during the work week.  Long days at work, regardless of the number of hours, and I'm ready for all those wonderful reasons I cook to be overpowered by two thoughts: someone else doing the heavy lifting and being able to taste something delicious almost immediately.

So what have I learned, putting this down in writing?  Apparently, the biggest driver for me to dine out is ease.  I always thought it was an insatiable desire to taste new things in new environments with great company.  In reality, I would enjoy cooking my own tasting menu for a group of friends much more than in a restaurant.  But I still want a burrito on a Thursday night because it's been a rough week, I'm tired, I don't want to stand up for 2 hours peeling vegetables and dangit, I want it right now!

All said, I still want to eat at all the best restaurants.  That doesn't go away.  Yet I realize that's a desire which more closely resembles wanderlust or dress envy.  What drives me to frivolously dine out year round is blatant laziness.  Whew, glad I figured that out.

Il Portico

Our waiter plus our hosts Shelly and Enda

A true gem on Kensington High Street, our recent trip to London would not have been nearly so impressive had we not dined at Il Portico.  It claims to be London's oldest family-run restaurant, however the history and/or PR-ability of it paled in comparison to the food itself.  Simple dishes with minimal flavor corrections: light-as-air gnocchi with gorgonzola cheese.  Spaghettini alle vongole with al dente spaghetti, tender clams and an olive oil, chile oil and white wine sauce.  Minstrone with cabbage and real chicken stock.  Nothing overpowering, nothing out of place.  It was divine Italian.

The Gift of Greek

 For mom's birthday this year, a Greek feast seemed quite fitting.  After such a decadent year, we went for a rustic, simple meal:

• Tzatziki with sweet baguette
• Kalamata olives
• Avgolemono soup
• Lamb Kleftiko
• Baclava with vanilla bean ice cream

The tzatziki recipe called for more attention to detail than I'd given the dish before—2 Tbsp lemon juice and white pepper were impressive additions.  From past experience, I reduced the suggestion of 6 cloves of garlic to just 1, and was glad for it.  For the cucumbers, I grated one and thinly sliced the other for texture contrast, before drying them on paper towels for 30 min.

• 3 tbsp. olive oil
• 1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
• 1 clove garlic, minced finely
• 1 tsp. salt
• 1/2 tsp. white pepper
• 4 cups greek yogurt, strained
• 1 cup sour cream
• 2 cucumbers, peeled, seeded and grated or sliced extra thinly
• 4 tsp. chopped fresh dill

My mom would prepare avgolemono soup from time to time when we were growing up and it was always comforting and surprisingly tangy, a wonderful remedy for a cold winter night.  Our version was made with rice instead of orzo, so it had less lemony tang and more starch. 

• 12 c. chicken broth
• 2 c. rice
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 4 eggs
• Juice of 4 lemons

While we found a variety of Kleftiko recipes online and in the Greek cookbooks I brought home, it seemed like the best way to achieve the glory of a Mama Thira dish would be to go by feel.  We started with a pound of lamb and diced it, removing all fat so only the olive oil would flavor it.  In a deep sautee pan, we simmered chopped yellow onions, diced golden potatoes and as much oregano, fresh dill, basil, mint and garlic as we could.  The kitchen was so filled with the aromas of a Greek taverna, I could practically feel the Mediterranean sun.  Once the potatoes were softened, after about 20-30 min, we added the lamb, salt and pepper.  Separately, in the oven, super-thinly sliced potatoes sprayed with olive oil and sea salt were broiled until golden and crispy.  To create each plate, we first made a ring of crispy potato slices.  On top went a serving of the herbed lamb and potato.  Finally, chopped tomato was placed around the meat, tzatziki drizzled on top and a sprig of rosemary for garnish.

• 1 lb. lamb, trimmed and diced
• 2 large yellow onions, diced
• 4 medium golden potatoes, sliced thinly
• 4 medium golden potatoes, diced
• 2 Tbs (or more, to taste) fresh dill, oregano, rosemary & thyme
• Chopped tomato, for garnish
• Tzatziki, for garnish

We made the baclava while the Kleftiko was in progress.  Ignoring the recipe's suggestion to layer up to 5 pieces of phyllo between each brushing of butter and nuts, we made each layer its own contributor to the final product:

• 1 package phyllo dough
• 1/2 lb. butter
• 1 lb. chopped nuts (walnuts, almonds, pistachios)
• Lots of cinnamon
• 1/2 cup honey
• 1 cup water
• Lime zest

We actually used much more than a pound of nuts and discovered that only one cup of water boiled with the honey wasn't enough syrup.  Next time, enough syrup to practically drown the pastry is a must!

Mama Thira

Our first night in gorgeous Santorini, we ventured only 50 ft outside Firostefani to Mama Thira.  Overlooking the caldera with two-story, unobstructed views, our table was set at a diagonal so we could both face the windows and the stunning scenery below.  Our diet of lamb—in many and any form—led us to discover Kleftiko, a lamb and yogurt baked dish.  We read that Kleftiko translates to 'bandit's lamb' because when times were tough, thieves would steal fresh lambs and cook them inside a closed pot so the farmers couldn't smell or see the savory smoke!  Add some potatoes, carrots, yogurt and tomato, and this clay pot is seriously delicious.

Firostefani by night

It was perhaps backwards for us to try Kleftiko for the first time at Mama Thira, since their version was a culinary event: deconstructed to a layered masterpiece of crispy scalloped potatoes, soft cubed potatoes, carrots, fresh tomato, bite-sized and oh-so-tender lamb in all the comforting Greek spices.  On top, tzatziki was generously drizzled and garnished with parsley and parmesan.  Simple and traditional comfort food made beautiful.  And the presentation was only half the event: the cubed lamb was impossibly tender on the inside while crispy and herb-encrusted on the outside.  Each bite was a mix of oregano, dill and garlic with that significant olive oil flavor that only seems possible to achieve in the Mediterranean.

"Deconstructed" Kleftiko at Mama Thira

Mama Thira initially drew us in with their appetizer sampler of my three favorite spreads: tzatziki, taramosalata and melezane.  Tzatziki was a staple at every meal of ours with creamy, garlicky yogurt often filled with shredded cucumber, mint and sliced garlic.  A drizzle of fragrant olive oil and I'm in heaven.  John wasn't as big a fan of the Tarama, salty fish roe pureed with potato and yogurt, but I'm a sucker for that salty sea flavor.  The melezane, typically roasted eggplant with garlic and roasted red bell pepper, was especially good without being overly oily.  My ouzo paired magnificently with the powerful garlic in each spread.

Tzatziki, Melezane & Tarama

We loved our experience so much, we decided (pretty much on the spot) that we would be back again before we left Santorini.  Only our last night on the island seemed fitting!

Blowfish Sushi

Potrero Hill is so unassuming!  I'm sure if I spent more time there, I would recognize the restaurants among the warehouses, but I'm currently pleasantly surprised every time I pull up in front of a much-talked-about restaurant on a quiet, dark street like Bryant or Mariposa.  Blowfish Sushi (To Die For) (it's part of the name) was participating in SF's Dine About Town with a killer prix fixe menu tonight.  Ritsu roll: tuna, avocado and tobiko flash-tempura-fried; Chirashi chef's choice with the rawest prawn I've swallowed and salty giant roe; finally green tea cheesecake with green tea ice cream and an impressive spun sugar swirl.  My dates thought the clam and prawn were a little too much raw texture to stomach, but I love to try something a little different.  I couldn't get enough of the giant roe either, mixed in with some sweet sushi rice and extra fresh, extra potent wasabi.

Koi

I'm always surprised that some of the best spots in LA are in the most random locations.  Or, um, I guess that could be explained by my absolute resistance to acquainting myself with LA and thusly locations seem more random than they actually, probably are.  In any case.  Koi was on la Cienega near Santa Monica.  WhatEVER.

The creative team I was traveling with had been to Koi at least a few times before, so I let them order and never even attempted to read the menu.  It was too dark anyway, without my glasses on I could barely make out the fork at my placesetting let alone a menu.  However, for all my reluctance to appreciate LA, when the deconstructed California rolls arrived, I was in sushi heaven.  Our waiter recommended adding fresh avocado to the soft crab wrapped in super thin rice paper with smoky toasted sesame.  Tuna with jalapeno, miso cod, lobster tacos.  I was barely willing to tear my attention away from the ridiculously innovative sushi bites to catch a glimpse of David Spade at the table next to us.

Speedos on Bondi

Recommended by my too-hip Aussie coworker, I was a little worried Speedos might be too much of a scene for me to relax at on a casual Sunday morning, my single day off in Sydney.  But I forget that Bondi is the Santa Cruz to Sydney's already lax SF and any clothing in addition to board shorts and bikinis is pretty much optional.  Speedos was meters from the surf, catering to locals and wanderers looking for coffee by the bar or comfort food by the truckload.  Close to 1pm (it took me a while to figure out the right bus to take to Bondi and a bit longer to walk the arc of the beach) I was ravenous and opted for the menu listing with the most goodies.  Thick Turkish toast, eggs with yolks the color of pumpkins, soft bacon, sweet sausage with sweeter tomato chutney and crispy hashbrowns.  Sure, it was far more food than I needed, but I thoroughly enjoyed tasting the range of flavors and combinations. 

Still My Favorite Brunch

Less than a mile from my old home in Belltown, Lola is still my favorite.  Loud in that airy, sparkling way that feels cozy and comfortable with a twinge of excitement.  Whether celebrating with a group or finding a table by the window with Shelly, it always feels like an event.  For my birthday, Sherry and Kristin surprised me with brunch there on a crisp, crystal clear Seattle morning.

We had to start with beignets, as one does at Lola, which arrive with clotted cream, strawberry rhubarb compote, and taste like warm, sugary...vehicle food.  I love how light and fluffy they are on the outside,   crispy on the outside with giant granules of sugar so you can't miss the texture match.

In a sort of embarrassing coincidence, we all ordered the exact same dish with the exact same style of eggs: Tom's Big Breakfast with octopus, pumpkin, spinach, bacon, red onion and sunny-over-medium egg.  All of this on a bed of garlic yogurt with vegetable caviar and seeds that pop with flavor.  I really can't forget to mention the spectacular coffee but I guess that goes without saying in Seattle.  Can't wait for my next trip north, as soon as it starts to get cold in SF, I miss meandering around Belltown.

Culinary Mecca

Chris secured us a reservation at French Laundry for lunch the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  Holiday weekend + Napa + three-star Michelin restaurant = culinary mecca.  Epic.

The Dinner

Making our dinner selects was too easy.  Even before we made any decisions, John and I had caesar salad (with anchovies, of course) and beef tenderloin in mind.  Once we figured out there would be a seafood and vegetarian dish, I was leaning toward salmon, but it only took one bite of Madera's halibut and we were sold.  Seared to perfection on a generous bed of creamed corn and covered with mini heirloom tomatoes, I think the best part of the dish was the smoked pepper sauce peeking out from underneath like it would only be revealed to the one who discovered it!

Beef eaters were served medium rare tenderloin with broad beans and brussels sprouts over mashed potatoes.  Mushroom sauce and giant sea salt were the finishing touches.  For the veggies, we chose a spicy tomato ravioli that was so awesome I almost ordered it.  Roasted cherry tomatoes and fresh parmesan with a cream sauce topped some of the most tender ravioli I've tasted.

As impressed as we were during the tasting, I think our guests were surprised how amazing the food was.  Either that, or they know EXACTLY how to flatter this bride!  The best surprise however, has been that Madera was awarded a Michelin star less than a month after we hosted the wedding there!  Couldn't be more proud that we got to party there before they made it big.

Anchor & Hope

My fabulous CBA team at Goodby took me to a boozy lunch the day before I took time off for the wedding.  In addition to sparkling rose all around, fried calamari with a fantastically sweet thai chili sauce and caprese salad with thick balsamic, we savored A&H's signature Angels on Horseback: oysters wrapped in smoked bacon.  What's not to love about a combination of two of my favorite flavors and textures?  I opted for the lobster roll for lunch, such a treat whenever it's on the menu but especially at such an east coast seafoodery. 

Two months later and a new last name, we went back but for dinner this time.  In the cold and the dark, the space is much less designer dockside and much more coastal cabin chic.  I couldn't help myself ordering more sparkling wine, it just seems right when I know I'll be ordering fish!  To kick things off, we chose the grilled baby octopus (reminding us all of Greece) and shrimp with crispy eggplant.  The octopus were tiny, just like calamari but with a smoky, spiciness working well with pesto, but the best part was lemony white beans to cut the powerful flavors.  John and I ordered the same thing for the hundredth time, obviously fish and chips.  This particular dish is tough to judge because it's always either just right (aka just what I expected) or really really wrong (soggy, bone-y, mushy).  Extra crispy Smithwicks batter, firm cod—not too greasy—it was just right at A&H.  Even the tartar sauce was lemony goodness.

Carmel Clam Chowder

New England and Manhattan were already taken, so Carmel now has a signature clam-based chowder.

On a super cold, rainy night in Carmel with some of John's Alaskan salmon, I undertook my first chowder.  The best recipe I could find began with bacon.  What recipe which begins with bacon could possibly be mediocre?  The other major selling points were the cup of half and half (instead of boring old milk) and that I would be grating a carrot instead of chopping it.  What fun!

• 6 slices thick cut bacon, sliced into 1/4 inch strips
• 2 cups yellow onions, diced
• 1 large carrot, grated
• 3/4 cup celery, chopped
• 3 cups cooked potatoes, in 1/2 inch cubes
• 1 Tbs dill
• 1 tsp thyme
• 1/3 or 1/2 cup flour
• 3/4 cup dry white wine
• 3 cups clam juice
• 3 6.5 oz cans of chopped clams, juice included
• 1/2 tsp white pepper
• 1 cup half and half
• salt and pepper to taste
• 3/4 lb fresh salmon, in 1/2 inch cubes
• (plus a good tablespoon of brandy for kick)

After the bacon is crispy and the veggies are softened with spices, you make a roux with the flour and bacon drippings and stir in all the liquids except the cream.  As it came to a boil, I put a bunch of chopped vegetables in the oven as a side dish.  Just before serving, sourdough rolls went into the oven to warm up, the half and half was stirred in, and finally this comfort food feast was ready to devour!

It was a wonderfully wintry meal, complete with a fire in the fireplace and rain pouring down outside.  I thought the soup itself was super creamy, almost to the point of being too much and when I warmed leftovers, I added a few cups of seafood stock and more sauteed vegetables (in bacon of course).  The dill really makes this soup, it's not a shocking combination of cream, salmon and dill, but it's certainly a time-tested classic.

Butternut Squash & Cinnamon Soup

One of the new, exotic items in my kitchen thanks to our wedding registry is a Bamix hand mixer, perfect for blending vegetables to make soup.  Given the autumn turn of the weather and upcoming Thanksgiving, comfort food like squash soup is often on my mind, so I sauteed a pan of butternut squash cubes in a bit of olive oil.  Adding white pepper, salt and cinnamon, the squash softened and slightly carmelized in the pan. As soon as I was sure they were cooking through, I added just enough chicken stock to cover the vegetables and brought it to a boil before letting it simmer for a few minutes.  Transferring hot liquid is not without a few splashes of terror, but once it was safely in a deep glass bowl, I was able to start using the Bamix to smooth into a soup.  The texture was pretty thick, so I added more stock until it was just right.  I was really happy with how the soup turned out and how quick it was to whip up!  Next time: burnt garlic and creme fraiche on top, or perhaps the "so hot right now" fried sage leaf and sage oil.

Joys of Cooking

Many things make the "art" of cooking especially gratifying: pleasing your taste buds, pleasing your guest's taste buds, successfully achieving a difficult result...others are less obvious; finding you have just the right ingredients already in the fridge, discovering a new, delicious sauce combination by accident...and my favorite today: filling the entire house with inviting, mouth-watering scents and using pristine cookware!

On a lazy, rainy Sunday, I was looking for a meal that would make for an extra challenging and enjoyable afternoon of cooking.  Beef Bourguignon?  Done!  This time I would follow Julia's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" recipe to a T—hours of prep and all.  I wish I could somehow capture the aromas wafting around our apartment; fresh rosemary and thyme mixed with carmelizing cippolini onions, bacon, fresh pepper and wine...it's warmth and coziness in the form of food.

I must say, cooking with our new cookware makes the experience about doubly delightful.  Our knives are so sharp and adept, I was able to peel 25 cippolini onions in record time.  The giant le Creuset dutch oven John bought me for Christmas last year is a much better suited size for the 3 lbs. of beef.  The All Clad sautee pan is about as even a skillet as ever, allowing me to leave the onions carmelizing with herbs for 50 minutes without trouble.  We even have prep bowls to store chopped garlic and thyme!  And enough mixing bowls to set aside the bacon, meat, onions and mushrooms separately and sanitarily!  Oh, such joy of cooking!

Moussaka Attempt #1

While honeymooning in Greece, I ate baked moussaka more than anything else.  At Byzantine, it was a choice slice of casserole while at Blue Moon and Mama Thira, it was baked in an individual clay pot.  I couldn't wait to learn how to cook this classic dish.  Below is the recipe I used, plus notes on what I changed and what I need to change on the next round:

Casserole:

• 3 eggplants, peeled and cut lengthwise into 1/2 inch thick slices - next time, 1/4 inch slices or thinner
• salt - go nuts
• 1/4 cup olive oil - a teensy bit at a time in the pan to flash fry the eggplant
• 1 tablespoon butter - ok to use oil instead
• 1 pound lean ground beef - used half lamb, half beef
• salt to taste - go crazy
• ground black pepper to taste
• 2 onions, chopped - only used one since it seemed like so much
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon - used 1/2 teaspoon and it still wasn't enough!
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg - ditto on the nutmeg, recommend a full teaspoon
• 1/2 teaspoon fines herbs
• 2 tablespoons dried parsley
• 1 (8 ounce) can tomato sauce
• 1/2 cup red wine

Bechamel Sauce:

• 4 cups milk
• 1/2 cup butter
• 6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• salt to taste
• ground white pepper, to taste - the more, the better

Topping:

• 1 1/2 cups freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

I also added quarter-inch slices of potatoes at the bottom of the casserole since that's how it was served in Greece.  Although the cinnamon, nutmeg, fines herbs and parsley add a bit of flavor, I still felt it wasn't nearly as flavorful as I was hoping for.  On the next batch, I won't be so hesitant to double and triple up the spice quotient.  This experience also taught me how underrated white pepper has been in my cooking repertoire.

To prepare, slice the eggplant and potato, sprinkle with salt and layer in a casserole dish.  The recipe called for browning the eggplant in olive oil but I made one casserole without browning the eggplant at all and it tasted and cooked the same.  In a skillet, brown the beef and lamb in some olive oil.  Then add garlic, chopped onion, herbs, spices, and finally the tomato sauce and wine.  Layer half of this mixture over the eggplant, then sprinkle a half cup of parmesan.  Layer more sliced eggplant, the other half of the meat and another half cup of parmesan.

For the bechamel sauce, prepare as you typically would but add in another teaspoon of nutmeg.  Pour this over the final layer of the casserole and sprinkle the final half cup of parmesan on top.  Bake at 350° for one hour, then let cool for 20 minutes before serving.