Sunday Repose - and - Three Local Restaurants

After nearly a month of celebrating, catching up, visiting and more or less constant companionship, I am enjoying a quiet, solitary Sunday. Please do not misunderstand, I thoroughly enjoyed my holidays and was lucky enough to be surrounded by family and friends, all of whom I care for very much. But I am a quiet person and need to remove myself from the world at large from time to time. I have my work, cats and kitchen (and a couple of films) and intend to spend a couple of quiet days at home. There is nothing more relaxing or therapeutic then standing in my pajamas, peeling, coring and chopping something (in this case apples) while listening to the npr or, today, Bach's Goldberg Variations. It is very important to focus on your chopping (if you care to keep all fingers, that is), and I find that cooking allows me to rid my head of other thoughts more than (almost) any other activity. I love yoga, but even then my brain runs ahead of me.

So now I find my mind more peaceful than of late and while my apple sauce cools, readying itself to be pureed and further cooked into apple butter and my lunch of leftover lentils (with carrots, potatoes, onion and garlic from my CSA share) digests, I will finally address those three local restaurants I keep referring to, but not writing about.

By local, I do not mean local Philly restaurants, but rather I refer to three restaurants in three different cities (towns) which organize their menus around the cuisine local to their location and season. My winter break was divided between Woodbury, CT, New York City and San Francisco/Berkeley and in each place I enjoyed delicious locally-influenced cuisine.

One summer after my first year of college, I had the great fortune to work for the catering side of Carol Peck's culinary services. Carol Peck, like Alice Waters (indeed, she has been named the Alice Waters of the East), is world-class chef who focuses on cooking largely organically, seasonally and connecting to local farms in order to create her gastronomic masterpieces. There is a pronounced French influence to her cooking, so dishes are often simple, made to highlight the individual ingredients. That being said, it is not rare to find Asian touches. Her restaurant, Good News Cafe, opened in Woodbury in 1993 and has enjoyed great success ever since. Though not exclusively so, her restaurant is very vegetarian friendly, and there are certainly vegan options as well. She employs excellent local bakers and pastry chefs, which means that I generally tailor my meal around dessert. My latest visit (or two, and I fear I might be combining various visits to this, my favorite restaurant in CT, but I am rather predictable in my order, so...) with my parents found me sticking to my usual plan of salad entree and saving room for dessert. On the daily specials was an incredible salad of shaved fennel, greens, feta cheese, shrimp, scallops, oranges and a citrus dressing. Yum is all I have to say to that. The dessert I saved room for was also a special: chocolate layer cake, with hazelnut buttercream frosting and brandy-poached prunes. I love dessert and these are the best. The greens in my salad very likely came from the greenhouses across the street. I also overheard Carol on the phone, speaking to the fish-monger across the street, looking to find todays fresh fish to feature on the menu. Obviously, such moment-specific ingredient choices can be much more stressful and perhaps risky in terms of cost, but I do greatly appreciate these efforts.

Before heading to San Francisco, I had lunch in New York with my friend and food-activist role model, Paula, at a restaurant I've already mentioned, Angelica Kitchen. As opposed to Good News Cafe, Angelica Kitchen is an entirely vegetarian/vegan restaurant, focusing on "organic plant-based cuisine." Their menu changes daily based on the season, weather and food availability. I love eating at Angelica Kitchen because of their innovative meals, using only plant-based ingredients to make the most satisfying of dishes. There is always a raw option and the daily specials get "recycled" the next day at a lower price. This economical and waste-less-minded reusing of food that might not have been consumed on day one, but is still perfectly edible (and delicious!), is an excellent restaurant model. I shudder to think how much perfectly edible food is thrown away if not eaten by customers. Why not serve the same special two days in a row (and owe up to it!)? For our lunch, Paula and I both partook in the lunch deal, which included kukicha tea, the soup of the day (a "creamy" root vegetable soup), a salad (filled with lots of goodies like sprouts and carrots), a bread (we chose the whole grain sourdough) and a spread (ginger carrot). We also indulged in one of their yummy desserts: a cranberry, hazelnut parfait; in place of yogurt there was a hazelnut cream. Good food, good practices and excellent company.

This meal was good preparation for all of the excellent organic/local/innovative/vegetarian/raw/delicious food that I would enjoy in the Bay Area. Let me tell you -- so good. But for now I am just going to focus on my dreamy, dream come true, meal at Alice Waters' restaurant in Berkeley, Chez Panisse! This was a much anticipated meal and outting and it did not disappoint. Compared to the other two restaurants I mentioned which either cater to or devote themselves entirely to vegetarians, Alice Waters does not. At least not in the restaurant downstairs, where each night's fixed menu features various (local, free-range, organic, etc.) meat courses. The cafe upstairs, however, does offer some vegetarian options and the weeknight fixed menu which accompanies the à la carte menu is (nearly) always vegetarian. That's where we ate! My dear friend gifted me a dinner at the cafe and had made reservations for our first night in Berkeley. I must note though, that while the building is utterly charming and the food delicious, the popularity of Ms. Waters' restaurant leaves the dining room packed to bursting, which makes savoring each and every last bite somewhat strained in the loud and cramped setting. I point this out, as the enjoyment of food is an important element of Slow Food and perhaps fewer diners at any given point should be considered for the return of intimate dining. That being said, it was such a lovely meal and generous gift (and the lights were not bright and the company and food both excellent, which distracted from the commotion in the rest of the place). I opted for the fixed menu: a green salad with avocado dressing and marinated beets, winter vegetable cous cous with harissa and, for dessert, tangerine sherbert with a wafer thin cat tongue cookie (the meyer lemon sherbert originally featured on the fixed menu was out). My friend had a salad that consisted of an unusual relative of the artichoke, potatoes, cauliflower with an anchovy based dressing, an incredible baked steelhead fish (perfectly cooked and unbelievably delicious -- yes, I tasted!) and burnt caramel gelato with chocolate crinkle cookies. Needless to say we split the desserts 50-50, because I could not resist that caramel gelato (my companion graciously ordered it upon my greedy request). So, you see, even the crowd could not prevent this from being a memorable meal. And I am very thankful for having been taken.

You might notice that there are no pictures. I was not a very good photographer during this trip - as in I took next to no pictures, and definitely not of food. Hopefully, you will be able to imagine the beauty of these foods on your own. Use your imagination!

(and while I wrote, my apple sauce was pureed, spices and sucanat were mixed in, and it is slowly bubbling - making incredible noises - its way towards apple butter goodness)

Hold the Presses!

I finally posted again at Farm to Philly about my winter CSA and a tasty recipe for a winter cabbage salad, and I was just about to sit down to post about three locavore restaurants in three very different cities to be followed up in the coming days by a more general post about the pleasure and ease of eating local in the Bay Area, when Mark Bittman sidetracked me big time. Now, my New York Times obsession has been well-documented and my respect for Mr. Bittman nears that of my adoration for Alice Waters. I am proud to say that I even gave the gift of his updated cookbook, How to Cook Everything, to a worthy omnivore this Christmas. Admittedly, I had already envisioned pointing out that Mark Bittman had also blogged about a cabbage salad in his blog, Bitten, though my salad might be indeed all the tastier for the addition of tart apples, red onion and walnuts. I did not, however, intend to devote this post to Mark Bittman, whom I now hold in even higher regard. But a quick browse through my food and eco links led me to Grist and a post honoring Mr. Bittman, who has a new book, Food Matters. The brief article also included an incredible video clip, which I am (attempting to) embed here.Mark Bittman held this talk last year (or 2007) at TED. This is an invitation only based conference and covers a plethora of topics. Bittman was, obviously, talking about food. Not only food, though, but the way we eat and how this impacts the environment and our health. Sound familiar? Topics that interest me a tiny bit? Matters that should concern everyone, as this is a global problem that could actually be controlled by simple life style changes? Oh yeah. For some, what Bittmann says here is not news, but he, like Michael Pollan, addresses these issues simply, with great lucidity and with humor. Also, like Pollan, Bittman is not a vegetarian and he is not insisting that the world stop consuming meat, but he does candidly address industrial agriculture and its (massive and horrendous) implications on the environment. He also points to the corruption of the food pyramid and the strong relations between how we are told to eat and the economic desires and greed of agribusiness. In short, take 20 minutes and watch this video. He has some nice visuals, but, if need be you, you could listen while you go about your day.

Highlights: Secretary of Food and the Kitchen Cabinet

I am not done with papers. I have barely started my papers. So I'm not really "posting" today, just offering a couple of highlights that I cannot keep to myself. For a full round up of this week's ecovore news check out Paula's lovely summary at Civil Eats.

Paula mentions this too, but if you have not seen Nicholas Kristof's op-ed, you should really take a look. He writes about the need to re-evaluate the position of Secretary of Agriculture. When the majority of Americans are no longer farming, but all Americans are eating, why are we not looking for a Secretary of Food? Here is the opening of his piece:

As Barack Obama ponders whom to pick as agriculture secretary, he should reframe the question. What he needs is actually a bold reformer in a position renamed “secretary of food.

A Department of Agriculture made sense 100 years ago when 35 percent of Americans engaged in farming. But today, fewer than 2 percent are farmers. In contrast, 100 percent of Americans eat.

Renaming the department would signal that Mr. Obama seeks to move away from a bankrupt structure of factory farming that squanders energy, exacerbates climate change and makes Americans unhealthy — all while costing taxpayers billions of dollars.

If you did not already see it coming, he then refers to Michael Pollan. Kristof cites a statement made by Pollan:

As Mr. Pollan told me: “Even if you don’t think agriculture is a high priority, given all the other problems we face, we’re not going to make progress on the issues Obama campaigned on — health care, climate change and energy independence — unless we reform agriculture.”

Would the Secretary of Food be part of Obama's "Kitchen Cabinet"? The San Francisco Chronicle reported on Alice Waters and a letter she wrote President-Elect Obama, offering her services, along with Ruth Reichl and Danny Meyer, to form the initial "Kitchen Cabinet" for the Obamas. She would volunteer her expertise in food-related matters: from gardening to cooking. This is an excerpt from her letter:

At this moment you have a unique opportunity to set the tone for the changes we need to make in the way our country feeds itself. The purity and wholesomeness of your campaign can find a parallel in the purity and wholesomeness of the food at America's most visible and symbolic address: the White House.

The article also writes of her failed attempts to influence Bill Clinton's eating habits. Though she apparently had better luck with Hilary Clinton, who even planted a rooftop tomato garden at the White House!

You all know I love Alice Waters, and in a few weeks I'll even be eating at her restaurant in Berkeley (!!!!), so please take a moment to read this informative and entertaining little article.

Off to the Post Office, then to proctor a make-up exam, meet with a professor, then home to write!

P.S. I made apple sauce last night. It might have been the easiest thing I ever did.

Friendsgiving: Cooking and Eating Together

As this picture suggests, I am still a lousy food-photographer. And I am also bad at actually documenting my cooking. Somehow I manage to take hundreds of delightful photos of my cats, and while they are, admittedly, wonderfully photogenic, the food I make too is rather attractive (sometimes). I'll put it down to less than ideal lighting in my kitchen. Nevertheless, I managed to snap a few pictures of the preparations and results of my contribution for a "Friendsgiving" potluck I attended yesterday.

In her cookbook The Art of Simple Food (a much cherished resource in my kitchen, given to me by an equally cherished friend), Alice Waters outlines 9 fundamental guidelines: eat locally and sustainably; eat seasonally; shop at farmers' markets; plant a garden; conserve, compost and recycle; cook simply; cook together; eat together; and remember food is precious. Now, reading this cookbook (which I did cover to cover) is like reading myself and my personal food beliefs. I admire Alice Waters, her cooking and her slow food ways. Though I respect her unyielding opinions, I do admittedly believe that there comes a point when reading her book that you must say to yourself: I don't live in the Bay area and do not always have access to fresh, local chervil. Bless her, but if food appreciation hinged on year round access to fresh herbs, this would be a sad thing.
Regardless, she is wonderful and I am proud to say how strictly (and effortlessly) I follow her fundamental guidelines. I eat locally and sustainably. I eat seasonally (with special thanks to my CSA being offered all year round!). I shop at farmers' markets (every week). I planted a roof garden this summer (with mixed results). I conserve, would compost (eeeh, more about this sensitive subject at a later date) and recycle. I cook simply. I would like to cook more together and eat more together. I never forget that food is precious.
That bit in bold there is kind of a lifestyle problem. I love to cook. I love to cook with others/for others and enjoy very much sharing great food with great people. I live a bit of a solo-life, however. I am rather quiet and independent, and I greatly appreciate time alone after too much time spent on campus. And I don't exactly have a built-in someone to cook for/with, if you know what I mean. I have some lovely friends though, and when our schedules cooperate we can do this cooking/eating thing together. Sadly, this rarely happens. However, I do sincerely hope to establish a weekly Sunday dinner with food-loving friends in the near future. This idea has been volleyed about for a few months now. New Year's resolution?
New food-loving friends Nate and Rachel hosted the aforementioned "Friendsgiving" potluck yesterday. Bingo: a chance to cook and eat together and to live up to my Alice Waters wannabe status!
I opted to make a Mushroom Pie with Sour Cream Crust, bookmarked in a 2006 Thanksgiving Bon Appetit since ... 2006, and a simple Pumpkin Pie à la Alice Waters. Friday night I prepped the two crusts and roasted and pureed a pumpkin (a CSA gem from a few weeks ago).
Here is the prep for the sour cream crust:
Freshly pureed pumpkin:
Saturday morning I prebaked the pumpkin pie shell (it did not shrink at all, leaving a rather funny ruffle around the end. Aren't pie crusts meant to shrink?!) Later my friend Alex came over so that we could do that cooking together thing I was just going on about. We strolled (in the COLD weather) down to the farmer's market and picked up some local organic broccoli for Alex's contribution. We then strolled further to the co-op to get an organic lemon. Then home to cook. I mixed up the pumpkin pie filling (with Alex assisting with sugar/spice mix) and threw that in the oven. Then I began sauteing onions and mushrooms, which I had prepped before Alex's arrival.
After taking out the slightly funny looking pumpkin pie,
I was able to throw in pie number two (thyme and cream cheese were added to the mushroom filling).
45 minutes later:
Alex steamed some yummy broccoli and poured over it a lemon/butter/garlic sauce (thanks again, Alice Waters). This modestly resides in the yellow Le Creuset pot in the first picture.
Firlefanz thoroughly enjoyed the slightly warmer apartment due to all the cooking, though he still opted to use Alex's coat for extra warmth.
Upon finally arriving at Rachel and Nate's we were greeted by much cheer, warmth and food. There, of course, was a turkey (thank you, Kevin -- I heard it was delicious), gravy, butternut squash soup, an absolutely delicious potato-sweet potato-leek-goat cheese gratin (I'm waiting on that recipe from Rachel and Nate), cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts, stuffing, vegetarian shepard's pie, cornbread, homemade white bread, green beans, and more. Oh yes, there was dessert too. On top of my pumpkin pie (which might have been a little bit sweeter ... or not, to my taste!) there was sweet potato pie, a pear pie, apple-berry crisp, rum cake, freshly whipped cream, maybe something else. And booze too, of course! Mulled cider with brandy, cranberry and vodka punch, wine, whiskey. As I am able to write this post today, I assure you I did not imbibe in everything. Though I did eat a considerable amount of food! And that cider was tasty.
Assessing the crowd, I am confident that a lot of what was on the table was local and organic. (I know my npr-listening, green, food types). I hardly need mention that my contributions were local and organic (butter, sour cream and cream cheese were organic -- I can't say with total certainty that they were local).
It was a great evening. Coming together to appreciate food is such a special thing.
Speaking of special...it wasn't all serious business at this dinner (not at all). We green foodies like to have some fun too, and what is more fun than rummaging through the unique assortment of items (not all of which belonged to me), which had found their way into my bag. Brooke and Alex model their findings:
Now let me wish you an early happy Thanksgiving. I hope that your meal will be local, organic and delicious and accompanied by lovely friends and family.