From My Plate to Yours

Confession: There are few things I enjoy more than reading a description of a good dish, food experience or a well-written recipe. Fortunately for me, I have the privilege of coming across food writers daily who inspire me to new heights of culinary creativity and writing -- who take a souffle from a batch of eggs to a waltz or a shrimp recipe to a sublime experience.

I'm not kidding.

I decided not to hog all of the food blogs I consume (you won't get me to admit how many blogs I read -- it borders on shame). Thus I present to you "From My Plate to Yours," a collection of the best of this week's food blogs. Judging by what made the cut, I would definitely say I had France on the brain this week, as every article that struck me either mentioned the country or reminded me of it in some way:

David Lebovitz consistently get me into trouble by posting something delish that I am all of sudden desperate to make -- from gelato to fresh pesto. His gorgeous pics of cheesecake brownies (see above) made me want to run to the store and buy the ingredients (I settled for showing all my co-workers the recipe), and his description of the French response to cheesecake, "le cheesecake is always spoken of with a reverence normally reserved for the finest cheeses and most exclusive wines" made me laugh. He never disappoints.

In southwest France, Kate Hill's one-paragraph description of her Gascony home made me want to see its beauty in the fall: golden leaves, dew, that first crispness in the air and foods like pumpkins, mushrooms and pears that I've been waiting to be in season all year.

And while I was happy that Chocolate & Zucchini is having its fifth anniversary party, I must admit that I was a little bitter that the soiree was (sigh) in Paris. Clotilde, I wish I could hop a plane this week to meet you, say congrats and thanks for all your insightful tips and fun stories.

It's funny how reading all these blogs made me remember how much I missed Paris -- a city that I was in for only eight days but whose culture and food I can still taste and remember. I was able to eat bread three times a day and not feel guilty. A simple breakfast of yogurt and fruit never tasted so fresh. And the wine I enjoyed held a category of its own.

I hope I will be landing in France again soon. But for now, I will settle for singing "La Vie en Rose" in my Kia and promising myself yet again to order Rosetta Stone's French edition. I gotta grow beyond saying "Where is the bathroom?" in French.

Mourning Lost Cafes

Seeing a closed restaurant -- especially if it was popular -- similar to a death in its finality. There's an experience that you wished to have but now can't, people you wished to meet that you are now unable. My latest sad moment was driving through Hollywood and passing by LA Doughboys Bakery and Cafe -- and seeing it boarded up.

I had often seen this Hollywood restaurant packed to the windows with artistic and tattoed souls desperate for their morning bagel, and sworn that I would go there when I had time -- and now I can't. Call me a bit sentimental, but I get attached to those familiar landmarks in my daily life; they keep me sane when I'm in traffic.

This artsy scene has now morphed into a no-name cafe, a place without roots that has to build a history -- not become a part of mine.

I like to have places that I know I can go to -- where the cashiers know me. I can be sure that my chai latte doesn't scald my mouth, the pastries are fresh and I don't have to fear a third-world quality bathroom. I like being able to pass by these places on the street and know that I have a group of safe havens. LA Doughboys was supposed to be one of those places. And now it's gone.

In the last two years, a different cafe (one of my faves) has gone through several owners -- and with each change of regime, the name changes. It's almost as annoying as Puff Daddy changing his name to P. Diddy -- and now he's just Diddy. Maybe next year he'll just be "D."

The cafe formerly known as "Cubby's" became "Synergy" and is now just "The Spot." Synergy's sister cafe became Vinoteque, a wannabe miniature disco in a Culver City neighborhood known for children, dogs and an ice skating rink as old as Jesus.

I could be a bit melancholy tonight, but this foodie wishes for a bit of stability in her palate.

Is that too much too ask?

Fall Foods and Musings

The first thing I said when I logged on to Pirouette today was, "God, I've missed blogging!" My faithful readers have probably been wondering why I have been MIA. I only have one thing to say in my defense -- I've wandered into the morass of quick and lazy cooking. I decided to escape last night, realizing that my palate was slowly dying of boredom. More on that later.

Fall is here. Fruits like pears and apples are beginning to adorn food websites. I am tempted with a childish delight to crunch every fall leaf (the few that I see -- I am from LA) and kick every cone on the ground.

But I am also thinking about the recent changes and decisions in my own life. I made one in particular while huffing on the elliptical trainer at 6 a.m. this morning: I am going to spend more time on the things that are important and a little less on things that are urgent. Important things are defined as that "life to-do list" -- making that creme brulee recipe you've been dying to try, sending a thank-you note vs. an e-card, taking the time to kiss and spend time with your kids vs. checking the mountain of email newsletters that are piled up in your inbox. As I am a perfectionist with a million things on her to do list at all times, this will be no easy task.

But I am willing to try.

Here are a few that I thought about (in no particular order):

1. Laugh more, worry less.
2. Cook meals that take contemplation and time.
3. Start the novel that's been brewing in my mind for the last few weeks.
4. Escape the quick-food rut -- which I did by making roasted chicken with grape tomatoes, cilantro and garbanzo beans last night.

The weeks of summer heat and reluctance to turn on the stove to 450 faded away as I lovingly massaged the spicy garbanzo bean mixture, adding a little extra garlic because it is my personal belief that garlic makes darn near anything taste good.

Gone were the summer days of salads (and only salads) because of the elusive tone that I am determined to see in my upper arms.

And gone were the days of speeding through the organic food market and silently wondering what cooks the fastest.

I explained to someone today that good food is all about experience -- taking the time to include the things that are important, yet not urgent: flavor, texture, color and presentation.

He laughed.

So here's my personal urge for important cooking, in a little less highbrow language: If it ain't pretty, don't eat it.

Roast Chicken Breasts with Garbanzo Beans, Tomatoes and Paprika:
(Adapted from Bon Appetit)



Ingredients:
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 garlic cloves, pressed
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
1 teaspooon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
1/2 cup plain yogurt (I prefer Greek yogurt)
4 chicken breast halves with bones
1 15-ounce can garbanzo beans
1 12-ounce container cherry tomatoes
1 cup chopped fresh cilantro

Directions:
Preheat oven to 450F. Mix first 5 ingredients in medium bowl. Pour 1 teaspoon spiced oil mixture into small bowl; whisk in yogurt and set aside for sauce. Place chicken on large rimmed baking sheet. Rub 2 tablespoons spiced oil mixture over chicken. Add beans, tomatoes, and 1/2 cup cilantro to remaining spiced oil mixture; toss to coat. Pour bean mixture around chicken. Sprinkle everything generously with salt and pepper.

Roast until chicken is cooked through, about 20 minutes. Sprinkle with 1/2 cup cilantro. Transfer chicken to plates. Spoon bean mixture over. Serve with yogurt sauce.

My Visit to Thailand

Random food adventures are the best. There's something secretly thrilling about having absolutely no plan to discover something new, only the desire to explore a little nook and cranny that you've passed by a million times. My recent food encounter was with a little Thai restaurant called Chan Darae here in Los Angeles. It certainly didn't look like much from the outside--it was on a dirty stretch of road called Cahuenga East in Hollywood(weird) across the street from the local CNN bureau and kitty corner from an adult video store. Homeless people milled from corner to corner.

Ok, so I didn't go to Thailand, but we Angelenos consider Hollywood its own country. Definitely not my typical stomping grounds.

But since a local food site raved about it, I was willing to give it a try. Crossing the gum-filled sidewalk to enter the restaurant, I must say I was immediately welcomed by the decor. The small restaurant was filled with warmth, accented by the earthy tones of red and yellow on the floor and walls. Complementing all things feng shui, there was a water fountain by the door. Golden idols sat above the door as well, as if keeping watch. Gorgeous Thai waitresses served eager customers--I secretly believe that facial beauty and bust size are requirements for working there.

Happily breathing it all in, I immediately ordered a Thai iced and sat down. The restaurant was empty, but quickly filled as the afternoon hours slowly ticked away.

I decided to break my typical curry obsession and ordered chicken with basil and red chilies. The basil added a fresh burst of taste while the chilies had a sneaky heat--ok at first, then spicy enough to have steam coming out of my ears. But I loved every bit of it.

When I lived in Chicago (only the greatest place in the world) I was infamous for looking for new places to discover. And despite being a Los Angeles native, I am sure that I have a lot more of the city to see.

I'll be starting with the food.

Spicy Fettuccine with Pesto

Basil has been an intoxicating spice for me of late, one that I have been craving for most of my dishes. When chopped or cooked, it gives me the same feeling I get when I walk by freshly cut grass, where the smell literally assaults all five senses. It is a tangible smell of freshness.

This craving recently led me to search through three cookbooks and two food sites until I found what I was looking for: a fettuccine with pesto recipe. According to cooking guru David Lebovitz, a proper pesto is made with a mortar and pestle. Taking his advice, I eagerly ran to Williams and Sonoma in order to buy one. Seeing it on the bottom shelf, I thought the white marble mortar was smooth and beautiful--perfect for crushing aromatic basil leaves for fresh pesto.

I then saw the price tag--and went home to pull out my food processor.

My first experience making pesto was everything it should be--fun, and I completely trashed the kitchen. After ensuring that all parts of the food processor were put together correctly (a chore in itself), I tossed in the garlic and basil for the first stage of pesto making. Upon opening the lid, I was struck by the potence of the smell--a fresh burst that made me cough at first, but swell with pride as I added salt and pepper, olive oil, fat free feta cheese, toasted pine nuts and two green chiles to the paste. After tasting it, I considered it far too spicy for my palate, but after a few dips and a thumbs up from a Nigerian friend, I felt that the extra chile was worth the risk.

Adding the pesto to a waiting pot of fettuccine and peas, the pasta was light with just the right spicy kick--and the feta (and additional parmesan cheese) melted to add a sticky zest to the dish.

No, I didn't create my pesto in the authentic grinding method. But I was more than happy with the results of breaking tradition.


Spicy Fettuccine with Pesto
(adapted from Working Mother)
2 cups loosely packed fresh basil leaves, plus extra for garnish
2 large green chiles, seeded (only use 1 1/2 if you're not a fan of spicy foods)
1 small clove garlic
sea salt
3 tablespoons pine nuts
1/3 cup exra-virgin olive oil
3 1/2 ounces feta or goat cheese, coarsely crumbled
freshly ground pepper
8 ounces fresh or frozen peas, thawed
14 ounces fettuccine
freshly grated parmesan (optional)

1. Place basil, chiles, garlic and a large pinch of salt in a food processor; process until coarsely chopped.



2. Toast nuts in a small dry pan over low heat, shaking occasionally until golden on both sides, about 2-3 minutes. Transfer to basil mixture in food processor and process until coarsely chopped. Add half of the oil and process until almost smooth; transfer to a bowl. Add remaining oil and the feta and stir to combine. Add salt and pepper to taste.







3. Bring a small saucepan of water and a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add peas to small saucepan and simmer 5 minutes if fresh, 3 minutes if thawed; drain. Add pasta to large pot and cook according to package directions; drain and return to pot. Immediately add 2-3 dollops of pesto and the peas to pasta and toss until pasta is well-coated (I added the entire mixture to make sure the pasta was well-coated). Serve with a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese.

The Round Pancake

On Saturday, I woke up with a smile on my face and an intense craving for pancakes. I used to have a deep love for the warm fluffies until a friend of mine said (in a sickeningly-sweet-I-go-to-the-gym-six-days-a-week sort of way) "You know that pancakes have absolutely no nutritional value, don't you?" Banana-nut pancakes haven't tasted the same since.

But tossing all love-hatred of carbs aside, I decided to whip up some cakes. As a nod to my pals over at The Second Pancake, I was thinking about that first satisfying pancake for the cook. Unfortunately, a not-so-deft flip ended up with my pancake on the floor. Another couple of flips introduced my feet and forearms to a couple of splashes of hot batter. Lovely.

Round pancakes are a dish that somehow I haven't mastered yet. Sure, they are fluffy and comforting with whipped butter and organic syrup -- but never round. They usually end up as some strange variation between an oval and an amoeba. I once made Swedish pancakes that looked more like a bacteria than a pancake. But they were delicious.

Despite all of her cooking deficiencies, my mother can make perfectly round pancakes every time. I may be able to make fettuccine with fresh pesto (come back in a couple of days for that), create salmon recipes and experiment with fruit and fresh greens, but I can't make a round pancake to save my life. I can do complicated, but it's the simple things that get me twisted.

I wonder if that's a sign?

My mom's pancake recipe (which also works great for waffles):
Ingredients:
1 cup of flour
2 tbs. of oil
3 tsp. of baking powder
1/2 tsp. of salt
1 tbs. of sugar
1 egg
1 cup of milk

Directions:
1. Mix dry ingredients together in a bowl.
2. In a separate beat and the egg and add the milk.
3. Mix dry and wet ingredients together until smooth. Once all mixed together, add oil to the mixture. If you want to make fruity pancakes, add berries or bananas at this time.
4. On a lightly oiled griddle or skillet over medium heat, spoon 2 tbs. of batter to make one pancake. Flip when it bubbles in the middle.
5. Repeat until done. Voila!