things you need: delicious friends, spice grinders and pancakes

Maybe it's the fall air. Maybe its the veritable whirlwind pace of daily life, lately I've been downright nostalgic. For days way back when and for days just a few months ago. You see: somehow I have been blessed with the presence of some really amazing people here in LA. All I ever heard about upon moving here is how hard it is to find great people. Well, if you are going looking amidst the nightlife in Hollywood, then yes, I imagine it must be hard. But when you take that leap and say hello to that dashing person who peeks your curiosity, odds are you'll be just fine. But you have to take that leap.
As with all friendships, we go through cycles, and lately I've been missing people and saying goodbye, that's just all part of it. Last week I helped to send off a beautiful lady on her way to write an album nestled amongst trees and idyllic silence in that far away mystical land called the Pacific Northwest. One of my most favorite living creatures in the universe and I have been exchanging messages while she's hard at work in that faraway land called Kentucky. And my gmail/facebook accounts have been getting all kindsa action far and wide. I have been tracking the travels of our dearest girl, Whit, while she treks across Italy during the wine and olive harvest. Through the stories we share, a part of my imagination can go wandering through fern lined paths or ancient Etruscan highways.



When given the good fortune to find them we need to cultivate thesefriendships. They are the magic that takes the uproarious pace of life and slows it down to savory moments. Just like everyone else, when I get nostalgic, I look at my pictures. I am still filing through all the pictures I took this summer that I wasn't able to access due to the death of my Dell Dimension 3000, RIP. For weeks, my dear friend, Joy, and I have been salivating remembering these little chickpea pancakes. This summer we had a farewell wine tasting for Whitney's travels. As it was hot and sultry, pink wines were the call for the day. I have often wanted to post this recipe and realized why I haven't. Because I need to get a little bossy in order to do so.


See, people, there are things that you need. Some of you may have them, some of you may not. A well stocked pantry is a petite domestic museum where you can touch everything and play till you drop. These are key to a particular fullness of a life in the kitchen. The textures and colors and aromas are pure inspiration and satisfaction. All of these things that I am about to mention (and many down the road) are things that I have come to love as a cook, which is why I want to share them with you, my friends. Things like exotic spices and flours, tools like spice grinders, they are just like those really interesting people you may see while out and about. All you really have to do is take the leap, say hello, trust that a new experience is a good one and could turn into a lifelong friendship.


Let's start with great whole dried spices, like in the case of this recipe: whole coriander and cumin seeds. Whole. Not ground, whole. In order to grind them, you will need a small mortar and pestle, a nestling bowl for your food processor, or the handy go-to coffee grinder that is dedicated to spices only. It's funny, every time I make this recipe, I start with the food processor then realize that the coffee grinder always does better, so I end up grinding in there anyway. I like to use the food processor to mix the batter altogether. If you are not ready yet to dive into getting a dedicated spice (coffee bean) grinder, that's okay, some high quality ground will do, I mean, lets be realistic, not everyone gets as stoked as I do about grinding spices. I get it.


You also need to explore various grain and legume flours. For this recipe I use chickpea or garbanzo flour, but I have jars and bags in the freezer of cool things like millet flour, almond flour and buckwheat flour. The fact is, you can throw a handful of these into any recipe to add flavor, nuance and overall health value. Yes, you can add some garbanzo flour to a cake recipe or millet flour to a muffin. I realize that we don't all live in a big metropolitan area with a readily available Indian/Pakistani grocery nearby with stacks and piles of gram or besan flour (garbanzo flour). You can always check out your health food store where I am fairly certain they will have it in the bulk bins or Bob's Red Mill bags. If not, you can go online and search it out. Same goes with the spices, which you can also find at the Indian grocery. I have had great luck with Penzeys and Kalustyan's. Bob's Red Mill is online also. So, go out there, get a spice grinder and get to exploring.


But there again, Bossy Mc Bosserton here: you have to be proactive about using them. They do not last forever. Trust your nose. Open the freshly purchased bag and breath in deep the redolence, what you are smelling is aromatic oils, they are volatile and will go off eventually. All great things are fleeting, after all. They can become oxidized and bitter, some spices come to smell and taste just like dust. Some people say spices last a year. I think that is a good rule of thumb. Though I'd be a big remiss liar if I said I threw all my spices away after one year. I do give them a good sniff and have made a vow of honesty, when they smell off, into the bin they go. Sometimes its a year, sometimes its two, sometimes its a woeful six months. But I love them nonetheless, who am I to say how long they ought last? I am sure there will plenty more times where I will wax on about whole spices, for now let me get back to this post.


These little pancakes are beyond delicious and incredibly versatile, just like a great friendship ought be. I have made them as ham and cheese sandwiches, I have smothered them with mascarpone, ricotta, chopped nuts and maple syrup. I have eaten them cold and leftover from my hand standing staring into the refrigerator with that early morning blear only fitting to a bathrobe and errant cowlicks atop my head. I love them, the pancakes that is, not with the cowlicks I find myself in daily battle. Always. I have made them a few times for our little gatherings. I somehow find myself surrounded by beautiful smart brunettes a good lot of the time and who am I to not fulfill their request?


They went beautifully with the pink wines and played nicely with all the other beautiful finger foods that were spread for the occasion. I would love to revisit the wine tasting when our girl Whitney returns because it was such a great learning experience and so much fun to share, I'd like to share it with you.


Okay, so, without much further ado, here's the chickpea pancake recipe. For this particular occasion I made a little salad out of a variety of sprouts from the farmers market, a small handful of parsley and mint chopped coarsely and tossed them with lemon and olive oil. To finish there was a little spot of tzatziki style yogurt cucumber sauce that was thinned out with lemon and white wine vinegar. It was delicious. I hope that you will try these out and let me know what you think. I always love to learn from you about how to better my recipes. Okay, friends, enjoy!



Chick Pea Pancakes
makes enough for several crepes or dozens of appetizer sized cakes
dinner or snacks

1 tsp whole cumin seed*
1 tsp whole coriander*
a pinch of dried chili flakes*
1 large clove garlic, crushed and peeled
1 tsp salt
a handful of flat parsley with some tender stem still attached
1 cup of garbanzo/chickpea flour
1-1/4 (up to 1 1/2 cups depending on how thin you like them) milk, I use almond milk, I like the crunch and flavor it lends
3 tablespoons hearty flavored olive oil or melted butter
cooking oil (canola, grapeseed or even ghee, if you've got it)

*if you are not yet ready to embark on grinding your own spices, a half teaspoon each of ground coriander and cumin along with a pinch of cayenne pepper will do just beautifully

how to:
-in a spice grinder grind the first 3 dried spices together
-add the garlic and salt to grinder and make a paste
-transfer to a food processor with the parsley and process once more to a nice paste
-add flour to mix thoroughly
(at this point if you don't have a food processor, you'd just need to grind the spices, mince the parsley and you can mix the rest by hand with a whisk)
-slowly add the milk with the food processor running
-scrape the sides so there's no flour sticking and making big lumps, process again
-let rest for about 30 minutes to an hour. this will let the flour saturate with all the great flavors and will add to the overall moisture goodness
-add the oil
-preheat a large skillet over medium flame. line a large plate with paper to drain
-add a few tablespoons of oil to the pan to cover bottom of pan, when the oil is dispersing quickly and sort of shimmery, you are ready to go
-ladle batter into pan, i used a little ice cream scoop to portion control ours
-allow to cook evening along bottom before turning, they will stick if given the opportunity, rotate the pan a quarter turn over the heat to keep it even
-the pancakes will start to look a little dry and golden brown around the edges, with a thin metal spatula, sneak a peak at the bottom
-flip and finish the second side, it takes a lot less time on the second side

apples and fennel, hello autumn salad

Aaaah. Finally. The nights are crisp and cool, a scintillating breeze over the night air and we all sleep so peacefully snuggled under blankets that have been missing from our beds for months. Depending on where you live, the leaves are all turning that vibrant array of colors that look so dashing against the blue sky and along the sidewalk. There are a few streets in Los Feliz and West Hollywood that are lined with deciduous trees, I do my best to drive/walk down them this time of year so that I can smell that delicious warmth of autumn and watch as the leaves turn then fall. The only real reminder of what time of year it is here in L.A. Silly blue skies year round. It's easy to lose track of time.


Autumn. My favorite time of year. Halloween! Roasting pans come out of retirement and stew pots get to percolating. Huzzah, friends.
My favorite thing to start with when the weather cools off is roast chicken. I love it. Truly like no other. Though, perhaps I love roast chicken even better on the second day. Maybe I love leftover chicken almost as much if not more than freshly made. Just maybe. Yeah, I do. Chicken salad. Love it. No lie. The kind that's all kindsa whipped up with mayonnaise and pickles, that's pretty great. Or a grown up green salad with all the fixings. Yeah, she's the one. I also love anything that lets me get multiple meals out of it. Thank you chicken, we like you, no we love you, a lot.


It's also the time of year that apples are hands down delicious. Crisp, sweet, floral. A fruit in the peak of its season is like nothing else in the world. Honey Crisp apples have become a new favorite the past couple of years, their name couldn't describe them any better. They are excellent eating apples, so I like to use them raw in dishes whenever possible. It's also the time of the year that fennel gets particularly sweet. It is in season all summer into fall, so now is the time of year to put the two together when ever possible. Just a word to the wise, make sure your fennel is white and bright on the outside, avoid ones that are browning. Although we gravitate towards the bigger more round bulbs, our old grocery store bargain eyes lighting up, you will want to veer over to the flatter more oblong ones. They will have more flavor and be more crisp than fibrous.


I think you get where I am going here, a salad. A huge beautiful delicious salad just for autumn loving. Tender lettuce with hearty kale cut into fine delicate ribbons. A hearty two handfuls of fresh herbs and a straightforward vinaigrette to let all the natural flavors shine. I will later down the road provide a recipe for an apple vinaigrette that would go beautifully for this salad, but for now, let's stick with lemon so you can just taste. Taste the early autumn crispiness. And use up that leftover roast chicken. And love it.




honey crisp and fennel salad
for two

left over chicken, sliced, about 6 oz each
half head of butter leaf (cobb, boston) lettuce
4 large leaves of kale
handful each of: basil leaves and parsley leaves (see note)
a small or half a large fennel bulb sliced thinly
a small or half a large honey crisp apple, sliced thinly
lemon garlic or apple cider salad dressing

• set chicken aside while you prep the salad ingredients
• start your vinaigrette, see recipe below
  
• make sure lettuce and kale have been dunked in cold water, cleaned and dried thoroughly
• tear lettuce into bitesized pieces
• remove fibrous stem from kale leaves. lay the leaves on top of each other and roll like a cigar from base to tip of leave. slice thin rings, about 1/8-1/4 inch max, from roll and you should have a nice little pile of ribbons
• pull herb leaves from the stems, tear the big ones, leave the others whole
  
• cut away stems and fronds from fennel bulb, reserve fronds to use as an herb and stems for vegetable stock....i mean, if that's how you roll.
• cut bulb in half lengthwise and lay cut side down on surface. slice a large piece from base to remove the oxidized fibrous parts. slice in the half moon direction thinly, about the same as the kale
• cut concentric slabs from the apple, about 1/4 inch thick
• lay apple slice rings on top of each other and slice through to make batons
• toss apples in vinaigrette to keep from oxidizing, especially if you have a little time before you eat
• toss all greens in vinaigrette, put on plates and top with sliced cold chicken

note: i am lucky enough to spend time in places where there are nasturtium plants nearby in abundance. i think everyone should find themselves in this position. if you are: add about 4-6 leaves and flowers to the ingredients list. slice leaves into ribbons and pull the petals free and toss with lettuce


lemon garlic vinaigrette

one clove of garlic
the juice of one small lemon or half a large
salt and pepper
extra virgin olive oil

• cut the dry brown bit off of the garlic, crush it with your knife or the bottom of a coffee cup to release it from its skin and to break the clove up
• slice thinly then sprinkle generously with salt and continue to mince and smash with knife until its very fine, almost a paste consistency
• put in a medium smallish bowl with several turns of fresh cracked pepper and lemon juice, let sit about 5-15 minutes to infuse flavors and mellow the garlic
• whisk in oil to taste, depends on how strong both lemon and oil are as to how much you need. i like mine very tangy. usually for a citrus vinaigrette its a ratio of oil:juice(acid) 2:1

stirring the curds

open vat cheesemaking at beecher's handmade cheese

Do you ever wonder what it takes to get cheese from being milk to being this? How can you not, really? It is such this magical transformation. From plain old white milk to the myriad of delicious, there are many steps in between. Beecher's in Seattle is one of the forerunning artisan dairies on the American cheese front. Here you can observe the process of small batch open vat cheese making while you wait in line for your soul satisfying mac and cheese or to buy a wedge of an American dairy beauty.

Did you used to make those little illustrated flip books when you were a kid? With little drawings of a stick figure doing a jig or planting a tree. Two stick figures running towards each other or jumping rope? I love those.
I made a sort of grown up one recently while visiting Beecher's on Pike street in Seattle. I have become a huge fan of Beecher's since hocking their wares this past year. Their reserve cheddar that has been rubbed in butter intermittently over the course of a few years has become nothing less than legendary in these parts. I was mesmerized by the process we all watched through the picture window, so I thought I'd share. So, join me here: take a seat and enjoy the show.

stirring the curds: a flip book animation

thank you, bainbridge: here's some homemade tea

There are are so many ways to say thank you. It's true. You can send a little card on heavy paper stock with a sweet little picture and precious words. You can send a pound of chocolates or salt water taffy, a potted plant or box of meaty treats. I like that someone can send a package of steaks or parcel of bacon to say: "Hey, you, that was really nice what you did for me. Thanks."


Most often for me, a thanks is better homemade. Tins of cookies, jars of sauce, paper mache boats or folded over pretty papers with notes inside. Retired mason jars full of hand blended tea. I love tea, the whole experience, from smelling to scooping, to steeping and drinking. And I want to give to you, someone whom I appreciate and who has given me such a treasure, well, I want to give you something of equal pleasure.
Enjoying a good cup of tea, you truly can't help but conjure up good feelings and scrumptious ideas as you breath in the steamy tendrils emanating from a mug. It seemed the only proper thanks to give in exchange for an invitation I recently received to stay in a dear friends family home on Bainbridge Island.


Whenever possible, I'll tend toward a pre-emptive thanks. Its so easy to loose track of time once in the swing of day to day and the questions it gets one all wrapped up in. More than once a cause of me forgetting to send things in a timely fashion. So, if the opportunity presents itself, I will do the thanking in advance.

That is how it went in the weeks leading up to my vacation. I had the moment when I knew the folks at the Nute house would love some tea, so I decided on the flavors. I started my thank you gift about a week and a half before I left. I bought three big bunches of organic spearmint from my Sunday farmer's market. My mom was here visiting again, so I put her to work while I made dinner that evening. I believe that was the evening I made green chili chicken stew with the Hatch chilis my folks had picked up along side the road in New Mexico.


She broke the bunches up into several smaller bunches and tied them on a length of butcher's twine. Next would be to determine the best place to hang it dry. Not outside: too hot, too bright, too many chances for disturbing. Not in the window, again, in my California home: too hot, too bright. You don't want to cook it before it dries.
I thought over the doorway to the kitchen, indirect light, plenty of circulation, relatively dry air. Alas, that particular weekend, there were a whole lot of bodies coming and going through that door with three house guests and two roommates. We settled on the handles of my great grandmother's buffet.


This was quite obviously the best choice because it was fairly practical, provided I didn't need to get inside the buffet much for the upcoming week. Most of all it was really lovely to look at all week while the mint dried gently to a uniformly dense green. It didn't get cooked by the sun to that sad brownish black which can make it taste exactly like mint dust. Upon tasting the brewed tea later, it certainly retained a sweetness from the gradual drying. From farmers market to drying on the line, I'd say that was the best process. No refrigeration in between, lessening any shock on the freshly cut stems.


I had a good amount of lavender that I got from work along with some elder flowers. Catnip from the bulk market, along with the organic English breakfast that was to be blended with cinnamon and roses from a purveyor at the Silver Lake farmers market, I was set to make two types of beautiful tea. Two of my favorite blends that I've been perfecting over recent months and years.


The best part of making thank yous like this is getting to share something you are also so stoked about. I love these teas, they bring me such daily joy. It's an equal measure of joy to what I was sure lay ahead at that beautiful home in the magical green of the Pacific Northwest. Of course, while making these, I didn't know to quite the extent of the magic that my vacation would hold. But I am sure glad that I took the time to do my little dried treasures alchemy in honor of their invite.




I was particularly pleased with my little mint extracting rig I made with clothespins and gallon freezer bags. It will be used again. You can't help but get excited with that rousing scent of mint oil on your fingers from loosening the leaves from their branches. It just smells so good.




Blending the elements together is in and of itself a sensory excursion of scents, textures and colors. The subtle hues of the elder flowers, catnip and lavender all interlaced with the bold leaves of mint. I just stirred until each tablespoon sized scoop I could take from the whole of the tea had a little of everything in it. I decided each cup needed an ample dose of lavender and just a whisper of elder and catnip.


Then came the black tea. Simple and spectacular this blend is. Cinnamon, rose and heady English style tea, its a robust and elegant beauty all at once.



I have this really classic mortar and pestle made of dark gray granite that my mother gave me years ago. It is party to many a brilliantly smelling kitchen adventure. It is heavy and hard enough to crack the cinnamon sticks into aromatic shards just the right size for going into a tea infuser. The rosebuds I crushed distributing the petals throughout and again stirred until it looked like each tablespoon had exactly what I'd want in my teacup. One day, I swear, I will bust out a postal scale and measure these amounts.


I had some labels left over from earlier experiments. I made them by scanning a little collage I made this winter and pasting the image into a free Avery template on Word. Easy as pie, so they say. And cute as a button. I sealed the tea up into two pint sized mason jars that once had preserves in them and nestled them into my luggage between hiking boots and sweaters the evening before I left.

And there's the story of my thank you, in advance, for a eagerly awaited vacation. Come to find out: I was utterly bewitched by the Puget Sound and had many a memorable moment there. This little rag tag group of friends became more like family than before. We had the most delightful meals and howled at the moon a night or two. The hikes were nothing short of epic and smell of the fresh briny air and rosemary from the garden... It was such a needed adventure. One of those trips that defines a time and place in our lives, sometimes vacation reminds us more about ourselves that what we do everyday. Trips like that only come so often, as often do we get to appreciate such fine people and surroundings. So, thank you, friends. Enjoy some tea, on me.

bubble gum

just in case you are wondering what to do with your bubble gum when you are done with it.


you could stick it to a wall. for like 20 years or something.

what i did this summer 3: shared meals with delicious friends

As a human I count myself very lucky to be surrounded by friends and family with voracious appetites and excellent instincts when it comes to chowing down. I come from a family obsessed and have sufficiently surrounded myself with an equally ecstatic lot of beautiful folks ready to take a meal down heroically.
Though as a trained chef, I often count myself kinda bummed. People get scared to cook for you, the invitations will be meek at best sometimes. How do I fully express that I love eating above all else? So much so that I sought training for it? I cook because I love to eat and love to feed the people I love and I will be as happy eating your mac and cheese as your bouillabaisse, because, friends: food is love. And it would do no good to go around judging that kind of love.


No matter your training or status in foodiedom, someone who revels in flavors makes the best meals. When a passionate eater and zealous cook works it out to create a spread of their very own comfort foods: this is a feast to end all feasts. A person in love with each layer, each flavor, each texture, a person's soul food that they've known on a visceral level down to the very ions, every whisper is a familiar flavor with a history that is lifelong, this is food to put haute cuisine to shame. This is the food to knock down doors for. Homestyle cooking from a passionate, soulful knowing hand, this is king, queen and the whole damn royal court.



This past summer a fantastically talented couple of our acquaintance, Ren and Ryan, invited us to dine at their loft in an historic building in downtown Los Angeles. Ren had been wanting to create a feast of his favorite native Korean dishes for us. I was aflutter from the first mention of this delectable prospect. I love great Korean food and it has been since my childhood in my best friend Leslie's Mom's kitchen that I've had really great homemade Korean food. Oh, joy! Oh loveliest of lovelies! Ren made us a feast of bulgogi, chicken curry and dumplings galore.



Bulgogi is historically amongst my favorites, and his was a wonderful rendition with just the right hint of sweetness: swoon. What truly beguiled me, what drew me in with its redolent spices and haunting slow heat was his curry. Oh, my. I have craved it several times since. A soulful cook can't help but make a dish to seduce your every sense. Every one was happy as clams digging into this gorgeous feast. How could you not, it was all so dreamy. Intoxicating spices, sheer multitude of dumplings and little seafood cakes, it was as if the meal could never end, and we would never have wanted it to.


A meal in their home is a treasure, Ryan being the consummate host never lets a glass go empty. Their table stands testament to this lovely pair, a place to behold the proximity of classic Southern hospitality and pure Seoul. We all ate to our hearts content. Had the most wonderful conversations and winded it all down with calorifically colorful desserts. We were all plum tuckered by the end of the night and left with smiles for miles.


There is nothing quite like a feast enjoyed with delicious company, ah, sigh. Magic, indeed.

how i spent my summer vacation, part 2: being a brat

Aaaaaaaannnnnnnd, then we went to the gardens. Moma & me, that is.

(A poet of my acquaintance that says most Ands and Buts are disposable. Therefore I needed an extra special drawn out And today...)

As much as I'd like to say that we were giggling like two school girls and reminiscing about the good old days for her whole visit, it wasn't exactly so. What happens to we adults when our parents are around? It's not every time, and thankfully the frequency lessens with each passing year. But sometimes, it's like taking brat elixir. I was being a total brat. I guess somewhere deep down inside we know that they'll still love us, even still brag to their friends about us, even when we're being impatient and slightly sulky. It takes the patience of a saint to be a parent, this I have learned.


Anyway, yes, we went to the Huntington Gardens. This is perhaps the most beautiful place I've been to since moving to this fecund wonderland of green. It's a big old pretty to get in: 2,000 pennies to be exact, but...
While it was certainly worth it, and I would say this only partly because my Moma paid. Being of the recessionista ilk myself, $20 spent means $20 planned well for. We went to the gardens on merit of its existence, with little else planned beyond the dozens acre park that is Huntington's. Moms always want to pay for things like this. So, yes, Mom, Let's party, botanical garden style.


But in all honesty, the Huntington is gorgeously satisfying on first view, though its a place that begs for all sorts of good future planning. This visit will certainly stand as a first. Truthfully can't wait to come to know this place inside and out via many many adventures through the gardens. Hailing from my favorite era of urban and parks planning, Huntington boasts some classic turn of the 2oth century embellishments and structures that make a girl swoon.


We originally wanted to go to the tea room, but it's booked like fifteen years in advance, so we decided to take a trip to an independently owned tea house some other time. And we, did, and I will post that in some other portion of this essay mini-series. Since making that decision which first gave me such pang, (we want our parents' fist visit to our new homes to be perfection and I totally screwed the pooch on making reservations for this weekend) I have heard that the tea room is highly over rated, that the tea is "meh" at best and the service is mediocre. They do have a little quicky tea room in the Japanese garden with a few good Asian style teas and little Asian fast food bento boxes. This seems a far more likely bet for the next visit.


I am from Missouri, see, and we have a spectacular botanical garden there. Truly, a treasure nestled in amongst some of the best examples of turn of the century urbanity. Therefore I am a little jaded. But, really, Huntington? Good lawd. Such a special place. At this point in my mother's visit, I was fully possessed by the spirit of 14 year old Rachel, poor Moma. It was really like out of the exorcist, every time she said something, I basically hiccuped some sarcastic sigh. Eegads, so unattractive. Why does this happen? I am an adult. I really am, Moma, Dad, you too, I swear, it's like Pavlov or something...I really am a well adjusted adult most every day of the year.


Well, it appears to have taken a mutual adult appreciation for me to simmer down and for us to have an enjoyable stroll through this magnificent wonderland nestled just north of Los Angeles. Unfortunately, it was about this time my camera started down its death walk, so I was only able to capture few of the treasures. This is indeed only a glimpse of these spectacular gardens. It's a bit of a haul, and its a pricey entrance fee, but its a wonderful treasure. Now that I know better, I think I'll have a better plan of action next time.


Definitely I'd pack myself and Moma up in the car the minute she tromped out of bed and gave that little, "perhaps its time for coffee," sideways smile (Moma wakes late, people, late) with a thermos of coffee and a clutch of baked goods for the ride. I'd pack a small and sensible picnic lunch and blanket in a backpack. It is a place that deserves a whole day to stroll through each of its gardens, to smell and touch every green leaf nodding its head in your direction. And the museums! Lets not forget about the museums and library.


I'd be at Huntington gardens all damn day, because this, this right here, is so beautiful. I want to swim in it, sleep in it, wake to it. Or just visit it for a picnic lunch.