Archives Under "delicious" (RSS)
nomnomnomnom: Dolphin-Fish, Chorizo, Lobster Hollandaise
18 January 2009 | butter, delicious, eating, nomnomnomnom | 3 Responses
Kate hit up Trader Joe’s last week and returned with fish. She found some frozen Sockeye Salmon, which we had early in the week; and also Mahi-Mahi, aka Dolphin Fish. I find Dorado tasteless and bland; seeing the frozen filets hinted no different. They appeared as they probably were going to taste. Perfect rectangles of an impossible gray that defied metaphor. I knew they would need a rich sauce, and a spicy side. I had a deli cup of clarified lobster butter (thanks Chef,) begging for hollandaise. Our sausage guy had hooked me up with some smoked Chorizo awhile back, I stumbled upon that in the freezer searching for fat. A deli cup of rice pilaf from the fridge smelled good. Dinner was upon us!! I sliced the Chorizo and rendered it on a silpat the oven. Conviently, I had cooked bacon on this same pan for breakfast; I had a ton of delicious grease to cook with. When the sausage was hot and oozing fat, I removed them form the pan and replaced them with halved pearl onions which then roasted, filling the house with a sweet and spicy smell. I knew shellfish and chorizo were money together, and figured since mahi doesn’t really taste like anything, the lobster hollandaise and smoked sausage could lift up this lackluster fish. I knocked together the sauce; volumized yolks, whisked in fat, seasoned with salt, pepper, vinegar. I heated up the rice in the pot that I warmed the lobster butter in, much to my fiancee’s chagrin. I reheated my sausage bits with the almost-done onions. The fish hit a screaming hot pan with a searing sizzle and when flipped hit the oven. After waiting four minutes I threw in two empty plates. Steaming food hit warm plates 3 minutes later. Hollandaise oozed. Lips smacked. Hunger: at bay once more.
FUCK!! part II: Snowboarding, Boredom, and Leftovers.
30 December 2008 | Ten 01, blog, cook, delicious, eating, real | 2 Responses
We lived in limbo for a few days, concerned about our kitchen. The broken water pipe had been connected to the restaurants heat system, which we really needed to open. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and would soon prove to be one of Portland history’s most devastating storms. On Thursday around noon, after a morning of nail biting and pacing, my buddy Nate called me; “Let’s go night riding at Ski Bowl!” I had no excuse, he was offering me a free lift ticket. I called Perez to see if he wanted in, I knew he was going just as stir crazy as I was. The city of Portland had shut down; chain-slapping buses spun sporadicly in the falling fluff. We knew the mountain had been dumped on. We rallied around 4 pm to embark on a two and a half hour journey in Nate’s 78 VW Bus. We chained up around Rhododendron; the roads were getting nastier the higer up we got. Perez was periodically recieving phone calls from our bosses, keeping us posted about the restaurant. After much back and forth, we learned that we’d be closed until next week. Our concerns lifted, an icy updraft, when we saw the lights of Ski Bowl. Heavy snowfall blanketed the mountain, and we were soon strapped in and smiling. We drank PBRs as we ascended the lift, smiling and swinging. We raged the gnar for three hours or so, carving powder and bally-hooing to each other as we mached by. I missed the mountain life. Everything makes sense when you can carve powder turns. We finished our beers in the parking lot and headed home. The weekend went by slowly. The skies were gray the roads were gray and the snow that covered everything was gray. I felt the walls closing in; I lost myself in the web. I annoyed my dogs with guitar and no walks. I happily braved Tri-met to meet Chef and Perez on Sunday at the restaurant. I was prepping Tabla desserts and they were cleaning out the walk-in. We crammed all we could into our freezers, but a good amount of food was about to spoil. Not surprisingly, Perez and I immediately volunteered to cook and eat the food. It would be a crime of the highest order not to. A damn shame. We packed up what we could, and grabbing beer near 4th, caught a bus to my place. We hit the grocery to augment our booty. We drank and cooked and cranked music. We thrashed my little kitchen and dirtied every pot, pan and dish. We even fired up Old Blue. My fiancee was out of town so it seemed the thing to do. We cooked and ate, carrying on and finally enjoying a bit of this down time…by cooking. It made life feel semi-normal. Through all the bedlam, the food was there for us. We got back into the restaurant early in the week and re-prepped everything we had lost. Teddy put our kitchen back together. Christmas day came and went. The rains finally came and washed away the slush and snow, the city awoke. People mingled in the streets, then filled the seats in the dining room. Smiling servers ferried food to grinning guests. A storm had come, and in it’s wake a sharper image, clarity. I felt as if the people around me were looking at each other a bit different, feeling a warmer glow. I felt an in-the-trenches level oneness, a communal happiness to be back at work. Sometimes shit happens, and all you can do is dive in and swim.
Nomnomnomnom: Pork Belly Benedict.
18 December 2008 | creative presentation of the week, delicious, eating, food porn, nomnomnomnom, pig | No Responses
In an outstanding feat of restaurant leftovers I created a delicious brunch this past Sunday. Anyone in Portland could tell you how cold it was this day, and a how a lavish, greasy breakfast was in order. At the restaurant we serve pork belly, naturally. It’s one of Chef’s greatest dishes. The precise bacon wrapped portions create a bit of side product, which we sometimes use for sliders or staff meal. Sometimes I take home a little package for the freezer; a lazy Sunday. I rendered off about 4 ounces of meat. Combined with a bit of fat I had reserved from another project, I had about 3 ounces. Emulisfing it into one egg yolk, It was just enough for one portion of silky sauce. Snow drifted down outside, and the smell of fat filled the house, warming us. I toasted the leftover brioche and poached the eggs. Spinning the water and dropping the eggs, they simmered lightly just below the boiling point. I usually use vinegar in this situation but not using any had a pleasant result. Unseemly as they cooked, most of the whites dispersed into the water. I ended up with perfectly cooked yolks however, and it’s all about the yolks right? I loose chopped the pork belly and warmed it in a pan with butter. Everything came together on a warmed plate and smoked black sea salt. A most satisfying of meals, I felt it filled me up nicely. I wasn’t even hungry until I saw the pulled pork that night at Jaybill’s. 
Herb Ice Cream: make it like a Dick.
13 December 2008 | Ten 01, custard, delicious, food, recipe | 7 Responses
Mark Dunleavy showed me this process. He’s kind of a dick. Since he created the Chorizo Burger however, I’ve paid attention when he talks about food. Except for that one time with the Consomme, when I wasn’t paying attention at all. Anyway, he’s a keeper. He told me he learned the following technique from the pastry chef at Blue Hour, where he worked as a pastry cook. I respect Mark’s resume. I mean here he was, grinding herbs for ice cream down the street, making desserts, then he simply wheels around the block, and starts working saute at the restaurant. Y’know…cooking happy hour and shit.
So here’s what you do weigh the sugar and the herb you want to use into the Robo-Coupe and grind it into a paste. Place this paste in your sauce pot and add the dairy product. Bring to a boil and cover the pot, killing the heat. Steep for thirty minutes. Temper in your yolks cook to nape, stirring, scraping often with a spat. Pour the base into a hotel pan to cool in the fridge. I usually ripen the base overnight in a cambro. It’s not imperative but does increase the flavor. Next day strain that shit into your Gelatoo-D2 unit and spin to a stiff sour cream consistency. The base recipe was adapted from AB’s, but Mark taught me the herb-paste bit. I imagine it works so well because it really opens up the herbs, and prepares to steep. You also achieve a bright, herby color this way. I want to say something about surface area but I don’t know if that’s right. It works great for Mint Chip and any other herb you might like to try. I’ve also used this herb grinding to make a Rosemary Pine Nut Tart for TXGV, but that’s another story.
Herb Ice Cream
yields 2 qts.
6 cups half & half
2 cups heavy cream
18 oz sugar
2-3 bunches herbs (sage, mint, basil, etc.)
16 egg yolks
1. Grind the sugar and herbs to a paste, and place them in a sauce pot with the dairy products. Bring to a boil and cover, kill the heat and steep for thirty minutes.
3. Seperate the eggs into a bowl, whisk vigorously.**
4. Temper the hot liquid into the yolks. Cook over medium heat unit it thickens up, or about 165 F, if you want to get fancy. Scrape and stir often with a rubber spatula. It should coat the back of a spoon when its ready.
5. Pour the base out into a shallow pan to cool rapidly under refrigeration.
6. Once thoroghly chilled, trasfer to a storage vessel for overnite ripening.
7. Next day strain into your ice cream machine and spin accordingly. Serve with a famous dessert.
**In the original AB recipe, he whisks the sugar with the yolks, thick and pale. This created a really good texture in the finished ice cream. I remember that Good Eats episode now, and it was something about protein. Next time I make this, I think I’ll use a portion of the sugar to do this.
Pate de Fruit Demystified.
7 November 2008 | Ten 01, candy, delicious, recipe | 11 Responses
I used to be mystified by Pate de Fruit (PAHT duh fruit.) I watched Tony create these candies from passion fruit puree and I was in awe. Chewy, sugary, fruity, firm but yielding. When I first started at ten-01, Chef asked me if I could make them to serve as mignardises. I of course said “Sure!” and set about learning to make them. I searched around online and came across some ratios and learned the basic components. Fruit puree, granulated sugar, apple pectin, glucose, and tartaric acid. The recipes I found were specific and complicated, and scaled in grams. I felt way out of my element. Stupidly, however, I had already told Chef I knew how to do it, so I shit my pants and dove in to swim. The importance of mise en place in this process was blatantly apparent from the outset. Ingredients were added in specific order at specific times. On the stove this shit looks dangerous; bubbling and spitting hot goopy napalm. It always gets a second glance when cooks pass by. After fucking it up a few times (too hard, too soft, grainy or burned) I started to learn the critical points. Firstly, always have a spat and a whisk in a bain near the stove. As you add the various items, you want to alternate between the two, making sure to incorporate and scape well. Second, dump the ingredients in, then whisk/scrape. At first I was adding while whisking, but the precision cook loathes unincorporated ingredients stuck to the whisk. Those grams add up quick, and this recipe requires exactitude. Next, after you get the glucose in, turn the flame down a bit. This burbling lava is hell of hazardous. Don’t let it get away from you. You have at least ten minutes before this candy reaches its finishing temperature. Don’t add the thermometer until you get past that. It’s easier to whisk/scrape without it, which you should do often. Have your molds set up and ready to go, because time is limited when you reach temp. Have a towel for the pot to land on, and your tartaric acid near by. Remember that bain you’ve been working out of? Drop your thermometer in there, and move it to where your molds are. After adding the acid, you only have a few moments to pour before it starts to set up. Cool the candy to room temperature before turning it out onto parchment to store or a board to cut into desired shape. To serve, toss them into a big bowl with sugar, and tap off the excess. The sugar will absorb into them, but you can, to a point, recoat them. A few words on ingredients: Use the good shit. Buy Perfect Puree, or an equivalent high quality puree. I’ve tried most of them, and now stick with Perfect’s strawberry and white peach, the recipes below are product specific. If you want to make your own puree, buena suerte. Use powdered apple pectin. This recipe is written for it, not the liquid shit. Glucose and corn syrup while similar, are not equal. Glucose has a higher density and while I would substitute corn syrup in brownies, I wouldn’t here. Many of these products are available to you at Pastry Chef Central, whose logo resembles Pom Pom, the most mackinest.
Strawberry (and White Peach) Pate de Fruit.
1800 g puree
180 g sugar
44 g apple pectin (46 g for white peach)
1800 g sugar (1738 g for white peach)
360 g glucose
27 g tartaric acid (28 g for white peach)
1. Weigh puree into a large heavy saucepot. Scale all other ingredients and set aside.
2. Sift togehter the first amount of sugar with the apple pectin while bringing the puree to a boil.
3. When the puree starts to boil, add the sugar/pectin. Return to a boil and add the other amount of sugar. Return to a boil and add the glucose.
4. Cook to 225 F and remove from heat. Add tartaric acid add pour immediately.
Here’s an Easy One.
1 November 2008 | Ten 01, delicious, dessert, plated dessert, recipe | 5 Responses
I love deep frying. As long as I’m creating dessert menus, there will be a fried item included. Customers seem to love them, too. I still have people asking me about the Olive Oil Beignets. Not every fried dessert I’ve tried has been a huge success. The funnel cakes turned out to be just OK, and the brown butter beignets straight didn’t work. I mostly base my doughnut ideas on pate choux, because I can pipe them, freeze them and fry from frozen. This system works well because I normally have to make the batter only once a week. A simple dipping sauce of creme anglaise or fruit coulis made it a no-brain pick up. With the lackluster reception of the funnel cakes, I wanted to try something different. I turned my Googles upon the humble fritter. The simple, basic recipes I found reminded me right away of pancake batter. Milk or water, eggs, flour, chemical leavener, flavorings. I tried a couple of “meh” recipes before choosing the most simple. A no frills apple fritter formula I found God knows where at God knows what wee hour of the morning through bleary search-engine eyes. I thought this recipe was the most tweakable, and slightly tweak I did. The original recipe called for milk as the liquid, and apples for the fruit. I wanted to use pears, because I originally had bleu cheese in mind for the sauce. I ended up using pear puree for half of the liquid volume (instead of all milk,) because the fruit flavor was faint at best. I also tossed the diced pears in more pear puree, just to seal the deal. These steaming balls of fried tree fruit batter are delicious. Hot from the fryer they get tossed in cinnamon sugar, the smell is heady, as in it turns heads in the kitchen. At this point, I started working on the sauce. My first idea was a honey-roquefort creme anglaise. Blue cheese and pears are thick as thieves, right? A famous pearing pairing. I bounced the idea off of Chef and he suggested I use Gorgonzola Dolce. I put together the simple custard based on David Lebovitz’s ice recipe in The Perfect Scoop. Spooning the warm cream into my mouth I almost puked. The funky foot taste filled my sinus and the too sweet eggyness turned my stomach. I stashed it in my low boy. Somebody was getting got with that stinky mess. It turned out to be Perez. I called him over once the sauce was cooled to have a taste. The look on his face was priceless. Slowly nodding his head and trying not to grimace, he looked like as if he was going to spit it out, but didn’t want to offend me. I burst out laughing in his face. I love cooking. Even the failures prove to be somehow useful. This is my second experiment with stinky cheese in a dessert, and the second not so good result. I decided to go with a pear brandy caramel, using local a Clear Creek Distillers product. Anyway, here’s the recipes. To fry these babies, spoon the batter into a 350 F deep fryer. When they float to the top, note how they look like The Guardian from Big Trouble in Little China. Fry until golden brown and a knife comes out almost clean. And watch out for Lo Pan.
Pear Fitters
makes one deep 6 pan
4 eggs
2/3 cup milk
2/3 cup pear puree
4 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1/4 oz salt
1 oz baking powder
4 cups diced pears
pear puree to coat pears
1. Whisk the eggs together with the milk and the pear puree in a large bowl.
2. Sift the dry ingredients into the bowl and mix to combine with a wooden spoon.
3. Dice the pears into a seperate bowl and toss them with enough pear puree to generously coat.
4. Fold the pears into the batter and either fry at 350 F until golden brown, or refigerate up to five days.
Pear Brandy Caramel
1 lb 8 oz sugar
10 oz corn syrup
10 oz butter
3 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup Clear Creek Pear Brandy (don’t sub the cheap shit)
1. Caramelize the sugar and the corn syrup to a rich amber color.
2. Whisk in the butter, take care with the bubbling and frothing.
3. Whisk in the cream and return to a boil.
4. Remove from the heat and cool to room temperature, then whisk in the pear brandy. Serve warm or store up to 1 month in the refigerator.
Dessert of the Year.
15 October 2008 | Ten 01, creative presentation of the week, delicious, dessert, faithful readers, jack yoss, plated dessert, recipe, shameless self promotion | 9 Responses
This is a variation of one of my older recipes, literally the first dessert I made at ten-01. I learned this one from Tony, of course, and I’ve been tweaking it ever since. If you review the earlier version, you’ll notice a few changes in the recipe below. Firstly, the weights have changed. Somewhere along the line, while converting it for various applications, I skewed the amounts. The newer proportions reflect just how many times I’ve made this recipe, how many times I’ve observed it’s subtleties. Chef actually improved upon its technique by mistake while I was in Europe. Anyway, here’s whats changed and why.
This recipe contains all my favorite ingredients; butter, chocolate, eggs, sugar, and booze. I was taught to melt the butter and chocolate over a double boiler Then whisk together the sugar and the eggs. Then, when the chocolate was melted, everything was whisked together with the booze and baked in a water bath in ten inch cake pans. When baked and thoroughly cooled we glazed them with a one to one ganache and sliced them in 16 portions. Onto a marble and out to the buffet. Simple and decadently effective. The main trick then (and now) was knowing when to pull them from the oven. They never really look baked, all loose and jiggly. It’s still a kind of leap of faith for me when I pull them. I find myself touching them every five minutes until they cool and solidify.
At Carlyle this recipe started to evolve. The original recipe, just cut in half, was giving me some great results. I realized at this point how similar this cake was to cheesecake, and I treat cheesecake like a custard. I started baking it at a lower temperature, and turning off the oven for the last half hour of baking. A thick, fudgey texture was my reward. I started trying different molds, and building up creamy layers. The best version at those times was with passionfruit, I wanted to call it Sexual Chocolate.
For my tasting at ten-01, I baked the cake in a small ring mold and served it with brown butter ice cream. It was over the top rich and showed I wasn’t afraid to knock people unconscious with chocolate. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as they ate it (”They don’t hate you, they don’t hate you, they don’t even KNOW you, man!”) I got the job, needless to say, and the cake ended up on the first menu. I started to bake it in frames around this time, and that marks the first change in the recipe’s proportions. Every time I pulled the 1/2 sheet cakes from the oven, the tops were just pooled with butter. I think this happened because the cakes where to big to cook through before basically breaking. I tried varying oven temperatures, mixing techniques, and finally ended up just reducing the amount of butter. The cake had a slightly more crumbly texture but was still dense and fudgy. Chef suggested I started serving the cake at room temperature. Chef knows a lot about food. Much like cheese, the cake was way better at room temp. He actually improved upon the recipe by mistake, confusing the bread pudding technique with this one and whipped it on high speed for over 15 minutes. The cake melted in the mouth, inducing groaning. This version of the cake sold really well. It seemed like it was around forever. I started to get bored with it. I replaced it with another Tony Classic and tried to forget about it.
Fast forward three or four menus. The servers are clamoring for a rich, knock-out chocolate dessert. The stupid Guinness brownie thing just wasn’t working. Marble Cheesecake? Yeah, kind of, but not quite. Scouring the internet for ideas, I came across this. The tenth item on McCormick’s 2008 Flavor Forecast was rubbed sage and rye whiskey. Things started to click into place in my mind; the hamster running in its wheel turned the lock’s tumblers to open my mind on a new idea. I knew whiskey and chocolate worked. Would I use whiskey in the cake or in the sauce? I knew how to make a kick-ass mint ice cream, would it work with sage? And would it go with the rich fudginess of the cake? As it turns out, it does. Famously. I remember standing in the walk-in waiting for the ice cream base to cool down enough to spin. I had some whiskey caramel left over form the Guinness brownie. I spooned the caramel into my mouth followed by the sage base. Closing my eyes, nodding, I reached to the top shelf for a beer…it was time to celebrate.
“Oh wait…” I thought, “…it’s only 6:30.” I started straight away making a batch of flourless chocolate cake. Scanning over the ingredients, I encountered a problem. I’ve only made this recipe with alcohol. It’s always been whiskey, or Grand Mariner or Bailey’s or something. I knew this recipe really well and just knew that I had to come up something to use in the place of whiskey, 3/4 of a cup of what, dammit, air? Suddenly it hit me. Water.
This batch of cakes, baked in my handy new flexipans, was one of the best I’ve created. Fudgy, of course, but the main flavor was chocolate. Not booze, but chocolate. Water made this possible. Having worked in pastry for a few years, this really struck me. Water, the arch-nemesis of chocolate, was helping me showcase chocolate in this recipe. Sometimes when things seem weird at first, proper handling can produce fantastic results. Water is now my new favorite ingredient. Even chocolate isn’t scared anymore. I even used the two together it in the mirror glaze. Anyway, enough of my jawing, here’s the recipes for my faithful readers, and also for the readers of the Willamette Week, who will find this cake in the October 15th Restaurant Guide.
Chocolate Flourless Cake
1 pound 14 ounces chocolate (64%)
1 pound 8 ounces butter
15 ounces eggs
15 ounces sugar
3/4 cup water
1. Pre-heat your convection oven to 200 F.
2. Weigh the chocolate into a bowl and set aside.
3. Weigh the butter into a sauce pot, and bring it to a boil.
4. Weigh the eggs and butter into the bowl of a stand mixer and whip light and fluffy.
5. Pour the boiling butter over the chocolate, give the bowl a shake and a spin and let stand two minutes.
6. Whisk the chocolate until smooth.
7. Fold the whipped eggs into the melted chocolate, then fold in the water.
8. Pour the batter into the flexipans and bake in a water bath until set, about 30 minutes.
9. Cool properly and chill thoroughly before demolding and glazing.
Mirror Glaze
1/2 cup corn syrup
1/2 cup heavy cream
9 ounces chocolate
enough hot water to reach desired consistency
1. Weigh the chocolate into a bowl.
2. Measure the corn syrup and heavy cream into a sauce pot and bring to a boil.
3. Pour the boiling cream over the chocolate, give the bowl a shake and a spin and let stand two minutes.
4. Whisk the chocolate until smooth.
5. Whisk in enough hot water to make the glaze loose and pour easily.
Assembly- Set the de-molded cakes on a glazing rack and ladle the hot glaze over the cakes. Chill the cakes and apply a second coat. Serve at room temperature with Sage Ice Cream and Whiskey Caramel.
Ghetto Fabulous.
8 October 2008 | delicious, dessert, eating | 2 Responses
The branding and packaging of Valrhona chocolate just begs to be treated trashy. The sexy black box and flashy gold wrapper simply scream: do your worst, I can take it and still be good. Nothing is more ghetto to me in the world of pastry than s’mores. The latest tableside “twist” or lofty “deconstruction” did not, for me, change the fact that this is a campfire treat, a gooey mess that was never intended as a plated dessert. These days, anything goes. If a chef wants to do s’mores as a plated dessert, that’s just fine. In fact, my old chef Tony made a kick-ass “Rocky Mountain S’mores“ With homemade graham crackers, marshmallows and Bailey’s ganache. Anyway, I wanted to make s’mores with this bad-assed Valrhona, and seeing that these bars go for ten plus dollars retail, I decided to go budget as possible with the other ingredients. Ever heard of a good Western Family product? That’s because there isn’t one. The gold standard of sub-standard in gas stations everywhere, I was surprised to find both of these gems at New Seasons. My first couple s’mores started out great. I trimmed up the chocolate and crackers. I split the mallows in half and set to work. I cranked up old blue and within 5 seconds had a flaming stinky white goo dripping off my skewer. I turned down the heat and split a few more of the puffy little orbs. 7 seconds, flaming goo. It was time to scale this operation down. Old Blue sported way to many BTU’s for this project. Plus it was cold and rainy outside. Inside, my camping stove proved to be the perfect marshmallow toaster. I used some little corn holding prongs to get in there nice and close, slowly rotating and toasting. Once lightly toasted and warmly gooey, I transferred them onto the chocolate. Waiting a minute or two for the chocolate to melt, I drank a beer. Slurping down the messy-mess was funny-fun. I couldn’t help but smile as the marshmallows dripped everywhere. The sumptuous 64% chocolate had melted just so, a delightful tiny snap as I bit down. The crackers were meh. I wasn’t surprised. On my second s’mores I did opt for five seconds in the microwave. I wanted to finish off the melting of the chocolate bar, and make it as drippy as ever. It was pretty tasty I must admit. I may not be an authority on cookery, but I still can’t see making it at it in a fancy restaurant. It just seems contradictory.
Goat Cheese Gnocchi Experiment.
3 October 2008 | delicious, eating, faithful readers, food, photoshop | 3 Responses
This is certainly my most exhaustive Photoshop effort to date. This silly thing took at least five times as long to make as the gnocchi, and isn’t half as delicious. For this recipe I used Ile de France goat cheese, the second installment of product they wanted me to eat and write about. The last cheese they sent me I basically ate straight, so I thought it better to cook with this one. The cheese had a creamy texture and showcased that distinctive goaty taste. The flavor carried through to the gnocchi, and was exceptional. I liked this cheese better than the last one they sent, it had a little more personality. I also found the packaging more pleasing, this time with a picture of a goat rather than a picture of cheese. Still a bit flashy for me but a step in the right direction. This company is bringing some great cheese into the country. I hope some more of it finds its way to my doorstep. I chose gnocchi because I have always wanted to try it. I’ve seen Perez and before him Arturo making these things three times a week for the past eight months. I had the process memorized just by seeing it done so many times. I won’t include a detailed recipe because I’m quite sure there isn’t one. You basically knead the ingredients into a dough, form it into a wiener, and you’re good to go. You’ll have to forgive the penis humor, faithful readers, but I gotta be me.
Leftovers.
22 September 2008 | delicious, eating, old blue | No Responses
I get sent home with a fair amount of food. Working in kitchens, you don’t go hungry. Often, pre-seared lamb won’t get sold, and won’t make it until Monday. Enter the fat kid!!! And how about a deli cup of those delicious fucking beans with the shredded duck confit? That would go great with this lamb. I’ve got that balsamic glaze from Italy in the cupboard at home, for drizzling. All the cooks know they can get rid of their various use-able odds, ends, bits and pieces. I used to have a line on some halibut scraps, but I haven’t seen him in a grip. Yes I will have two deli cups of garlic oil. Yes I will take home a day old loaf of brioche. (French Toast, bitches!!) How’s about Chimichuri marinated flank steak? Why yes I can find a use for that. To feed my ever growing teets!! With power-lunch-stlyle sammy action on old blue. Enjoying some vino from the vineyard always helps wash this all down quite nicely. In light of some rather alarming new statistics, it’d good to know that food isn’t going to waste, but to my waist.
