Out with the Hare, in with the Dragon.

Now that I write a blog I am contractually obligated to do a 'Year in Review' post. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to review. I haven't been writing the blog for an entire year so it can't all be about the blog itself. I also wanted to make sure this blog was "not all about the food", so I shouldn't focus solely on food. At the same time I don't want to get side tracked and start talking about football, you wouldn't like me when I talk about football. I guess I'll just make it a little about everything.

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Year of the Jackalope

Enough of that, let's go over some things that took place during 2011, Year of the Hare.

• I graduated from culinary school! It was a lot of work in a short time but it was one of the most rewarding accomplishments of my short life. Luckily I attended a great school and had even better classmates.
• My chickens started laying eggs. I have to say that chickens are my favorite animal to date. I've come to terms with the

  

  Chef of the Day completed

  fact that I'm not a country boy and my chickens are nothing more than glorified pets. They are fun though. Like a fish they live in a separate container and don't get in my way or demand attention. Like a dog I can still pick them up and pet them, although they don't seem to enjoy it as much as a dog. They have personalities which is nice.  Finally, unlike any animal I've ever taken care of, they produce food for me to eat. 
• Three different jobs. All of them have been great. I don't think I can pick a favorite. The best thing has been learning from very different people.
• Umpteenth Annual pig roast was a smashing success. I've lost count which is the best part. I think I've roasted 8 pigs at this point.  
• Got freaking married!  That was by far best thing I've done in my life.
• Continued my streak of a lifetime without taking antibiotics. Although I fear this will one day be my downfall once the super infections created by people taking too many antibiotics gets me. My wife(still strange to say that) was given Cipro for a stomach bug they couldn't even diagnose. Is that really necessary?

  

  Bacon, the least productive chicken

• Speaking of healthcare, it's hard out there for a cook. It's a hard knock life for us, 'stead of treatment, we get sick, 'stead of insurance, we get bills. I pay out of pocket every month to stay covered. Other cooks I know, most of them actually, gamble in a big way. One coworker was hit by a car while riding his bike. He didn't stay to get the driver's information because he didn't want to be late for his shift. Others put off doctor visits, probably out of fear that they will find out how much it will cost to fix their broken bodies. There was talk of mandatory healthcare for restaurant employees in Seattle, but that would bury some restaurants and cut into wages.
• On a serious note related to the previous thought, the Seattle culinary community lost a very important person a few days ago. Christina Choi was the owner of Nettletown, and one of the co-founders of Found and Foraged Edibles. She was a graduate Seattle Central Culinary Academy and employed a few of my closest culinary school friends. She was also far too young. RIP Christina.



I think she likes me

• On a much lighter note, multiple friends had babies this year. Congrats to Shelagh and Dan, Vanessa and Ogi, Lauren and Garry and all your little chubby cheeked droolers.

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Enough of that.  Let's move on to the best and worst of the year.


Best new Seattle restaurant: Revel, Fremont
Worst restaurant experience: The Melting Pot, Queen Anne

Best Food truck that doesn't move: El Camion
Worst Food truck that uses food coloring to brighten Pad Thai: Kaosamai

Boisterous merrymaking indeed

Best food takeover in the city: Street Food
Worst and most outdated food takeover in the city:  Sub par Thai restaurants every 15 feet in Fremont.

Best fake cured meat derived from turkey: Turkey Pepperoni
Worst fake cured meat derived from turkey: Turkey Bacon

Best food I made with the help of a friend: Double bellied asian pastrami pig
Worst food I made on my own: Hungover Chicken and Waffles 

Best comeback of the year: Coca Cola made with cane sugar, the way Johnny Pemberton intended.
Worst holiday tradition fail: Coca Cola in white polar bear cans.  I thought they were all diet.

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Enough of that.  It's time to look forward to the future.  It has been reported to me that 2012 is the last year of our existence on this planet.  It seems the Discovery Channel has stumbled upon some evidence that an ancient calendar carved in stone ends abruptly.  It's my hope that the Mayans pick up a new one at Border's Barnes and Noble before the end of next year.  Until that time, I will continue on my mission to cook, eat, drink and write.  Welcome 2012, Year of the Dragon!

Look Ma, I made it big!

   Ok so not too big but somehow I've managed to get a picture I took, not only in the Seattle Weekly, but also in the Wing Luke Museum.  I'm still not sure I believe the latter so I'll just have to go check it out myself.

   Click here for a link to the Seattle Weekly Slideshow.  The picture was featured in my Plum Crazy post.  Big thanks to Jonathan Wakuda Fischer for forwarding me the details of this opportunity to begin with.

  Hell, let's add a screen shot for posterity's sake.

Yoiks, and away!

    It's been a while and for good reason, on the fourteenth day of October, I officially got married to the apple of my eye, Jill.  The wedding went off without a hitch and it was great to see all the friends and family that came out to see us from near and far.  I don't have anything else major to share other than that, but I do have a lot of things on my mind.  ¡Bullet list al rescate!

•  I want to start a new website/zine using submissions from cooks, specifically cooks in the industry or who have been in the industry.  Much like this blog, it's not meant to be specifically about food, but rather an outlet for creativity and to express oneself without the use of a chervil coulis swoosh.  I'll accept drawings, photography, articles, reviews, high school pictures, anything fit for print really.  If you would like to make a submission or know someone who might be interested, please let me know.  I have a few submissions already but would like to get more.

• Does anyone know the Elmo/Grover cut off year? That little red guy totally took over the whole operation.  I understand Grover is still around, but probably marginalized.  I feel like you're either Elmo or Grover in this world.  It's like Red vs Blue, Crips vs Bloods.  Hell this country is divided politically by these two colors.  Looking at the clip below, I think it's pretty clear which sesame street character has had the most influence in my life, I'm sure those of you who know me too well will agree.

 

• Anyone know any board game makers?  I'd like to start developing one and would like to pick a seasoned vets brains. 

• Mmmmmmmmmm......seasoned braaaaaaiiinssssss.

• Canned some pickled beats yesterday with friend Jen M.  I'll share the recipe with you once I know it's good.  For now, a couple teaser pics.

 

• Tonight for the first time I try out the new food dehydrator.  I'm gonna see how pumpkin seeds do.  I like roasted pumpkin seeds but find there's a chewiness to them and I'm hoping the dehydrator on highest temp might be able to make them slightly crunchier.  Wish me luck.

• Made some pumpkin raviolis for some friends the other weekend and they wanted to know how to make the pasta dough, specifically how to make it well.  The hardest thing about making pasta is the kneading and to know when you've got a good dough without taking it too far.  About 5 minutes of hard kneading is all you need.  Make sure the dough is smooth.  Kneading is tiring, if you're short and/or your table is tall, stand on something like a milk crate to give yourself good leverage.  Put all your weight into the dough and work it like a Polaroid picture.  Make sure you're concentrating the weight through the heal of your palm.  Work it forward in a circular motion and turn it slightly before your next kneading action.  Finally it is important to wrap your dough in plastic and let it rest before continuing.

• Reread the above paragraph again and tell me it's not dirty.  Hellllllllloooooooo Nurse.

• I've been on a bit of a childhood cartoon kick lately.  The "Bullet list al rescate" in the opening paragraph is a reference to one of my favorite Cartoon Network, Cartoon Cartoons.  If you can guess which one, I'll send you a jar of pickled beets.  No googling!  Won't do you much good anyways since the character doesn't say "bullet list", but rather their alter ego's name.  If you don't like pickled beets, I might have a jar of plum bbq sauce left over.

• My favorite tea is Earl Grey.

I've clearly run out of things to write about for today.  Feels good to be back in the saddle again and I hope to introduce the new website/zine shortly.  I leave you with my favorite Daffy Duck feature to really drive home the cartoon thing.

Plum Crazy

  At the end of last weeks post I promised a poll to decide what I would do with the plums I was to gather from a friends backyard.  I didn't do that because I forgot.  So to make up for it I went ahead and made the plums three ways.  This post will be about how I made preserves, ketchup and bbq sauce from the nearly 20 pounds of italian plums I was able to pick from my friends tree.  Just follow the three easy steps below in order to have your own delicious plum condiments.

Step 1

   Find a suitable plum tree.  If it's not your tree, you may need to attack in the middle of the night dressed in black and using night-vision goggles.  People will protect their plums with deadly force and extreme prejudice.  If you have a friend with a tree, promise them returns of delicious foodstuff not to exceed ten percent of gross weight.


Step 2

  Pick the plums.  Daytime or night mission, the end goal is the same, gather the plums without plumetting (harf) to your death broken limb or until you can't take the spiderwebs clinging to your arms and face anymore.  Is that a spider crawling on your face?  Probably.  Eject yourself from the tree at once if there is any doubt.

Step 3

  Follow the remaining 47 sub-steps.  I sure think I'm funny don't I?

Plum Preserves

  An easy one but so delicious, and the best thing is you can keep these throughout the long falintering* months to combat the winter-time-no-good-fruit blues.  This recipe came out slightly tart, which I like(see flapjack review). You can add more sugar if you must.  I also added some lemon peel to give it a marmaladiness.

Yield 4 Qts
8 1/2 Lb   Italian plums
3 Cups     White sugar
2 Each      Lemons

  Wash the plums, remove the pits and cut into thick slices.  Given the amount of plums I used the slicing disk in the food processor.  Peel 1 lemon and julienne the skin.  Make sure not to peel too deep, the white part of the lemon peel will add too much bitterness.  If your peel has a lot of white on it, use a sharp knife to scrape it off before you julienne.  Next, juice both lemons and combine all ingredients in a large pot.  Heat on high until the mixture starts to boil.  Reduce to medium high flame and continue to slowly boil for 1 hour.

Take that Saveur Magazine, I can make my pictures look like yours!

  That's it.  It's almost too easy.  The point of course is to have these preserves throughout the winter and canning them is a sinch.  Fill each pint jar (or whatever size jar you want) to about a half inch from the top and place in boiling water caner for 15 minutes.

*Falintering - This is Seattle's winter for those that live outside the region.  Essentially there are two seasons here, 1 month of summer followed by 11 months of falintering.

Plum Ketchup

  The decision to make ketchup wasn't hard for me.  I know a lot of people don't like it but I find it tasty.  Apparently, ketchup is the main source of Umami flavor in the US.  While I don't think you'll be getting much umami flavor out of a plum, the spices that go in to flavoring Ketchup happen to be spices that go really well with plums, the most prevalent of which is clove.

Yield 3 Qts
7 1/2 Lb     Italian plums
2 C            White Sugar
1/2 C         Apple Cider Vinegar
1 C            Brown Sugar
2 ea           Onions, small dice
4 ea           Garlic cloves, minced
1 T            Cloves
1 T            Coriander seeds
1 ea           Cinnamon Stick
1 t             Whole Black Peppercorns
2 T            Kosher Salt

  Start by cleaning, pitting and cutting the plums or slicing in the food processor.  Add to a pot along with the white and brown sugar, vinegar, onions and garlic.  Heat on high.  In the meantime make a sachet with the remaining ingredients excluding the salt.  Stir frequently until the mixture comes to a boil, reduce to medium high and cook for 1 hour, stir regularly.  Remove sachet and blend the mixture with blender or stick blender.  Add salt and adjust to taste.

Eggs meet plumchup, plumchup eggs.

  Again, you can easily can this.  I canned two pints and reserved the rest for the following recipe.

Plum BBQ Sauce

  Even though there are ketchup detractors out there, they are often the same people who love BBQ sauce.  What they don't realize is that the BBQ sauce we are all used to, is doctored ketchup.  There are many types of BBQ sauce but the one you're thinking of right now and the one most people associate their taste buds to is Kansas City style rib sauce.  This sauce should go great on grilled chicken.

Yield 2 3/4 Qts
2 qt           Plum ketchup
1 c            Dark brown sugar
1 c            Apple cider vinegar
1 c            Molasses
2 T            Cholula® hot sauce
14 ea         Dried arbol chilies
1 T            Sweet paprika
1 T            Garlic Powder
1 T            Onion Powder
1 t             Ancho Chili powder
1 t             Mustard powder
1/2 t          Cayenne
10 Turns   Black pepper
1 t             Salt

  In a sauce pot, heat your ketchup to a simmer. Grind the arbol chillies in a spice grinder or mortar and pestle. Add all ingredients except for the salt and simmer for 30 minutes stirring regularly.  Check for seasoning and add salt if needed.

  Too easy.  I used Cholula hot sauce because it uses arbol and pequin peppers, pequin being my favorite.  If you want to make this spicier, use a habenero sauce or maybe maybe a vial of pure capsaicin if I don't like you.  Good luck with that.

  In case you were wondering where the idiom plum crazy comes from, here's a good explanation.  Today's promise for next week, that there will be a next week.

Pull Y'all Up State Fair

Last Sunday was destined to be a busy day, I planned it that way so I could get the maximum amount of fun for my time and dollar.  Let me give you a play by play of how I think it went down.

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8am - Wake up, hit snooze
8:05 - Snooze 
8:10 - Snooze
8:15 - "5 more minutes"- Jill
8:20 - F**k it...

8:40 - We get up and ready ourselves to ride to the Puyallup state fair.  The mission is simple, see the show chickens, eat ridiculous fried food and get the hell out of there.

Hairless cat being humiliated, as if being hairless wasn't bad enough

 10:10 - We arrive at the fair and make our way towards the chickens....stop to see the 4H cat show.  This by the way is not the most ridiculous thing.  Last year we witnessed a Llama agility course.  If you know anything about Llamas, which I'm sure you don't, you already figured out they aren't extremely agile.  Sure they have no problem prancing around the Andes, but jumping through a hoop doesn't strike me as something that relates to a Llamas normal life.  In the 15 painful minutes we waited around to see one Llama do one act of agility, we were rewarded with nothing but the laughter that comes along with watching a teenage girl try to pull a stubborn cross between a donkey and camel through some pylons.

Glorious chicken

10:30 - Chickens glorious chickens.  Chickens as far as the nearsighted eye can see.  A whole barn full of small chickens, big chickens, red chickens, blue chickens, featherless chickens, silky chickens, young chickens, old chickens and some silly ducks.  The roosters are amazing.  I am not sure how big they can get until I come upon a Jersey Giant. This guy isn't even fully grown and he is as big as any rooster in the joint.  I'd turn and run from one of these guys if it came down to it, I'm just glad the big boy is in a cage.
11:15 - In search of the holy grail of fried foods.  Legend was told by the Guamanian Crown Prince of a fried fowl sandwich with buns of fried dough and jelly inserted.  Glorious tales of heart stopping and mouth watering ridiculousness.

Yes, that does say deep fried butter.

11:30 - Arrive at the Totally Fried booth.  Look over options.
11:31 - Thoughts of doubt, shame and fear for health creep in.
11:32 - F**k it...
11:35 - We order fried frog legs, a krispy creme chicken sandwich and fried kool-aid.  What have we done?
11:37 - Frog legs come, two of them....really?  Two dinky legs?  Oh right, this is a novelty...probably should've asked before ordering.
11:40 - Krispy creme sandwich.  What a letdown.  I blame YOU Jude Cruz!  A partially frozen jelly doughnut and a costco brand condensed poultry disc is what I get?  Of course I wolf it down and forget to let Jill try some.  She walks away feeling betrayed.  I try to tell her it wasn't good as I lick the jelly off my fingers.
11:42 - Fried Kool-Aid.  This is actually the least disappointing item.  It's pretty much fried dough with extra sugar and kool-aid powder mixed in.  I've done worse.

Deep Fried Kool-Aid. Le sigh.

11:45 - Time to get out of Dodge.  Having wandered aimlessly through the fair last year for hours, I can tell you without a doubt we got our money's worth with our short and goal oriented visit.
1:00 - Arrive in West Seattle in time to watch opening week football with Whitney.  Decide in the first five minutes to never return to this bar.  Proceed to drink beer, watch football, and talk to Mike from San Diego.  Mike is a nice family man, a TSA employee, but not one of the pat-down idiots at the airport.  He is some sort of ferry explosion prevention dude.  Hats off.  We talk football and general topics for three hours.  I go to the bathroom at the conclusion of the games and upon my return find that Mike has left without saying goodbye to Whitney or myself...WTF Mike!?  I thought we had something special.
4:30? - We arrive at friend Robot Eric's birthday party.  I drink beers and eat the last few spoonfuls of macaroni salad directly from the bowl.  I play hot wheels with Robot Eric's son Robot Ian, who thinks my name is Jillandchristophe.

Me:  What's that ladies name?
points to Jill
Ian:  Jill.
Me: What's my name?
Ian: Jillandchristophe.

For those that don't know, I used to think DC Mayor Marion Barry was two people, so I can't be too hard on the kid.  Specifically I had it in my mind that it was a woman and man team comprised of Mary and Barry.

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I think I will leave it at that, not much else happened other than my discovery of a delicious Italian Plum tree in the Robot family's backyard.  I now have plans to return to this tree, collect a bounty and make something delicious.  At the time I was thinking simple preserves.  I was told the neighbors make chutney using the plums.  Now I'm thinking I have to step it up a little.  A plum BBQ sauce perhaps?  On friday I hope to return home with many plums and I will post a poll to decide what I should make with them.  In the meantime, enjoy more pictures.

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There were a lot of tired chickens

This little chick is just sleeping.  They kind of the pass out wherever they happen to be.

The End

On moving on

I recently made a move from Tilth to Boat Street in an effort to regain some sanity, friends and appetite.  I'm happy to report the effort was not in vain, although leaving Tilth proved bittersweet.  Tilth made me a much better cook.  Not only in terms of food, but in terms of what it means to be a line cook.  I still believe there are many home cooks out there that can make a better apple pie or puttanesca sauce than some line cooks working high demand jobs, but fact is most would break down and cry within two hours of service starting.  I'm not saying that because I think it's what might happen, I'm saying that because I've seen the lip start to quiver, tears held back in fear, only to have them come pouring out in frustration.

My first night at Tilth was trailing on fish station.  It was the top line station at Tilth reserved for those that had earned their stripes working pantry and meat.  I believe they do this to really gauge a cooks worth.  I mostly watched that first night and received instruction from the station cook.  I cooked a little, it seemed easy and I went home feeling good about myself.  Not because I owned it because I didn't, but because I didn't fall flat on my face.  I got a call to come back in and trail a second time.  The job was still up for grabs and I think they wanted to see me one more time before taking a chance on someone right out of culinary school. 

The second time I came in was again to trail on fish, but the person working the station that night would become the Sous Chef in title only a couple months later.  This man was intense, with a mind moving a mile a minute and wiry body hardly able to keep up with his thought process.  He was also able to teach at a mile a minute.  I've never really seen anything like it before.  Generally I find instruction during the heat of battle to be useless.  Either the person can't properly convey their thoughts or I can't properly comprehend them.  With this guy I got it and everything was going well.  Then Chef Maria Hines showed up.  My back tensed, my right eye twitched and I started to sweat a little more than anyone should.  She took over the ticket board and called out the orders.  One particularly large fish order stumped me.  I couldn't call it back for the life of me.  Something as simple as "Large salmon, 2 salmon, halibut, 2 tasting mussels" came out of my mouth as "Large sallibut.....fuck.  Large salmon, 2 halibut, 4 mussels.....shit".  A look of hopelessness must of exuded from my face and she walked closer to me and asked me if I understood the words she was saying.  Finally I got the call back right.  I didn't give up, didn't give in, and most importantly I didn't cry or get kicked off the line.

My back never did unwind.  I lost weight in the beginning because I lost my appetite.  I wasn't scared of Maria, I just didn't want to let anyone around me down by not being the best cook I could be.  Everyday I arrived a half hour early to get my prep started.  I often skipped family meal in order to get the last of my prep done before the doors opened.  Eventually the Sous Chef made family meal mandatory.  I ate like a bird and returned minutes later to get everything ready for service.  Beyond that I almost never saw Jill, didn't have time to see any friends, culinary or not.  My days off coincided with nothing of interest unless day time TV is your best friend.  The only things that helped seemed to be flying a kite or blogging.  The blog was born of more than that, but it did prove therapeutic.

I decided to look for a new job, a daytime gig for the sake of getting ready for a wedding.  Enter Boat Street.  There is still a lot of work to be done at the new job, but the prep and plating being less demanding makes the job more fun.  They want rustic to the point where I have to pull back and try to make things look more like I wasn't trying to make it look that way.  I had to learn not to make a powder out my parsley, and not to mind the exact placement of a lettuce leaf.  It's not laziness really, it's just a style that demands you plate a dish the way your arthritic grandmother might, without making it look like a mess of course.  I can live with this.  I feel good again, I eat three five square meals a day, I have time for friends.  That said, I miss the chaos of Tilth, I know this because during a brunch shift at Boat Street last Saturday that got a little out of hand given the amount of tickets building up and the prep that still had to be done on the fly, I found myself enjoying the insanity.

Buskets of Oysters

I had the pleasure of my second and first visit to The Walrus and the Carpenter last night with Jill.  I say second and first because the first visit was cloudy due to some medications I was taking after slicing off the tip of my finger.  Our waitress on the other hand had a much better recollection of our first visit than I had.  I always find it charming when waitstaff remembers you even after one visit many moons ago.  It made me feel like one of those background characters on Cheers that actually gets called by his name even if it's only for one episode.

The Walrus is a small oyster bar located in the back of the recently renovated Kolstrand building(keep old Ballard alive!).  The building is also home to Ethan Stowell's Staple and Fancy and the Dutch Bike Company, selling bikes I can't imagine are the most practical for the hills of Seattle.

Back to the oysters.  All but one variety offered at this time are local, and the ones we tried were fresh and delicious.  We had a mix of Eld Inlet, Pickering Passage and some Sweetwaters from Lopez Island.  In case you were wondering or were interested, there are only 5 oyster species, yet the waters they grown in have a very profound influence on their flavor(culinary school nerds inside joke).

More impressive than the oysters is the man that shucks them.  Since being in the NY Times, his beard has grown, where it ends, no one knows.  There was no shell or other grit left in the oyster.  He seperates the oyster from the bottom side of the adductor muscle without moving/mangling the meat and all of the sweet/salty oyster liquor is retained.  So good is he that I might be in danger of losing Jill to him...seriously, she might be more impressed than I am.

After our oysters, Jill and I split some of their small plates.  I should mention that they the plates themselves are small, the food that comes on them is deceivingly big in quantity and flavor.  We started with a marinated swiss chard salad, which I think was the best swiss chard I've ever had.  We followed with chicken liver mouse and steak tartare.  The mousse came with curried apricots, mint, pistachios and mustard.  This was a well made mouse with no grittiness or acrid flavors.  The heat from the mustard and the sweetness of the apricots really made this dish well balanced and fun.  The tartare was also excellent but I wish we had been offered fresh cracked black pepper.  Maybe it's old school but I think it should be a law as I'm sure it is in France.  Finally, feeling gluttonous I ordered brandade for dessert.  I know what you're thinking, how can a dish involving salt cod be dessert?  Guess what?!  I got a fever, and the only prescription is more salt!

The Walrus doesn't take reservations so be prepared for a popular new restaurant wait. The nice thing is they will call you when a a table becomes available so heading up the street and grabbing a drink at any of the numerous bars on Ballard Ave makes the wait very tolerable.


Apologies for the lack of pictures.  It was dark and the camera on my phone takes bad low light pictures.  As penance here are a couple of pictures of Bacon, the chicken that stopped laying.  She's in solitary confinement for aggressive clucking, withholding protein pods and several counts of general chick-anery...I made a funny! 

Falling apart...part deux

I can't remember ever being this clumsy in my life.  I went through an entire childhood without breaking a bone.  Some scratches here or there, but my first ER visit wasn't until college.  Not surprisingly, it was because of a kitchen accident when I spilled some boiling water down my shoe.

In the last few days I managed to sprain my left wrist and fall flat on my face carrying a full sheet pan full of polenta.  Thankfully I was able to sacrifice my body in order to save most of the polenta.  Much like the guy that caught the ball at the homerun derby, I was more concerned with the product than the body.

Notice how he holds his beer above the water the entire time.  He seems to be having a hard time getting his head back above water after the spectacular catch, but that's not nearly as important as saving the 9 dollar beer.  Bravo good sir.

Wish me luck, but not the break a leg kind of luck, something tells me that might backfire.