Mary Ladd

Where the Chefs Go: Cookhouse Revs Up in North Beach

Images courtesy of Pamela Palma Photography

“I want to live here!” was the most squealed phrase at the Herbivoracious cookbook event for Michael Natkin at the aptly named Cookhouse venue. The crowd settled into a light filled room and many appeared comfy and happy with their meal and setting.

Cookhouse is a gorgeous North Beach nest that opened in February 2011. You can call it an event space, which it is. But such dry words hide the fact that Cookhouse is a sophisticated and vibrant spot that makes people wistfully cry out that version of “I could move here!” according to Director of Operations Amy Bryan. Climbing the stairs, one gets a decidedly mix of Paris in San Francisco feel. No wonder Cookhouse is ground zero for "in the know" birthday and anniversary parties, corporate mixers (leave that rubber chicken at the hotel banquet hall!), or perhaps an intimate dinner with the likes of Ravi Kapur, Stuart Brioza, Nicole Krasinski and Elizabeth Falkner before she decamped to the east coast. Prices depend on event, and more information can be found online here. San Francisco magazine is on to this celeb chef hangout and held a potluck here for a group of Best Chef Award winners last month.

Cookhouse has the kind of beautiful kitchen I love to work in: Thermador ranges and induction burners, MAC knives, Staub Dutch ovens, and a KitchenAid mixer. Neat freaks whoop over how well the cooking utensils are set up and organized, and the building dates back to 1913 and has served as a sound engineering office, bookstore and salon over the decades. It's clean, spacious and organized... the way I wish my home kitchen could always be.

Brendan Marshall of Kitchit has used Cookhouse for chef based events and said,

“Cookhouse has a nice venue with the facility to handle dinner parties of 20-30 people. For us, it’s all about connecting people with chefs. Cookhouse works for people who want a different venue.” 

Cookhouse’s Bryan confirmed that, “It’s a private venue you can rent for any use and it doesn’t have to be food related. That’s why we built it. We do a lot of private events, birthdays, anniversary parties, corporate team building, and classes. We even do a little bit of food photo shoots and filming here.” Professional cooking staff is available to help with the cooking and event flow, and Cookhouse has taken pains to work with local artisans and can order foodstuffs from Bi-Rite Market.

Never leave work just because your GF is mad at you!

This weekend, I was working in a kitchen on a wedding. The kitchen crew of five had just finished unloading the two company vans and was now setting up kitchen work stations. After a mere half hour on the job, a young culinary student slash Newbie caterer told us, "Sorry guys. I gotta go. My lady... I have to go take care of her."

"Is she hurt?" someone asked.

"Nah, nah. She's freaking out. Sorry to leave. This would've been fun, I know it," Newbie said. "She keeps calling me," he added. Why he was answering his cell phone at work, who knows?

The kitchen Boss Man, told him calmly, "OK, OK," which may not be how I would've responded. Then again, perhaps Boss Man has been in the biz long enough to be able to spot and deal with flakes easily.  It turned out we would be okay without Newbie's "help" for the event.

Newbie's leaving seemed unbelievably immature and wrong, but also depressed me. Newbie is about to graduate from the California Culinary Academy, which is my alma mater. His actions were a poor reflection on the school. If this was how Newbie operated, he was only setting himself up to fail at cooking. This wasn't the first time I had seen this sort of work ethic. There were also ample flakes (and crazies) when I was in cooking school.

Much later, at the end of the night, I laughed about the Newbie incident with the Boss Man: "Why was he taking calls? Is someone hurt or dead?" -- about the only reasons to take a call at work.

"I know!" Boss Man said, nodding his head. "That seemed a little odd that he was leaving." Odd, stupid, unreliable, and dumb.

I told Boss Man that another kitchen worker who was acquainted with Newbie told me that the girlfriend in question was "crazy, and total drama," which gave a little more insight into their relationship. This was the first time Newbie had signed up to work with the catering company. The chances of him getting emailed or called to work for them again may be close to zero.

Party Platter Panache

Edible party platter garnishes are all the rage. It’s a great rule to follow in case one of your guests decides to help themselves to the garnish. Edible flowers, fruit, vegetable carvings, and fresh herbs make things look pretty and yummy. Sliced fruit (orange, lemon, and lime, alone or in a combo) also punches up a platter’s edge. Slice the fruit and lay on the platter. If doing a citrus combo, try and lay the slices on top of slices that are similar in size. That will look best to the eye.

Don’t forget to keep party platters clean during your event. I’ve learned from many catering companies that the best way to clean up a platter is to use a white vinegar and water mix. To do this, combine two parts water with one part vinegar in a squeeze bottle. (Not to worry if you go overboard on the vinegar.) If you don’t have a squeeze bottle, put the liquid mix into a bowl. Use a kitchen side towel to dab at the platter, cleaning away any leftover food and sauces. The vinegar cleans up gunk quickly, and leaves the platter looking clean and fresh. Add more food and get the platter back out to the party, stat!

When Setting the Table....

The beautiful client was picky, particular, and wealthy. I wanted her to be pleased, since this was only my second time working at her manse. In catering--like all jobs--paying attention to little details is vital. Plan ahead, think things through, etc., etc. Yet mistakes happen, and bring me back to Earth. I'd like to think my brain wasn't operating at one hundred per cent because we were on Day 2 of a heat wave. I had gotten little sleep the night before, and was worn out by the heat.

There were two hours for me to set the table and do other kitchen tasks. Easy, right? Well.... Forgetting the first course soup spoons shouldn't have happened. My boss and I went over the menu when I arrived to work. The maid had already set everything out for me, or so I thought.  I should've done an inventory for each course before I set the table. But it looked like that had already been done for me. I didn't realize my  huge error until the guests were seated and ready to eat. My boss was ladling and garnishing the soup bowls for us to carry out.

OMG. All of the sudden, I could visualize the place settings in the next room. Shit! I had put a spoon down, but it was for dessert. A teeny spoon sitting at 12 o'clock was not going to gain me any smiles or looks of support from the client (or my boss). I was panicking. There were no soup spoons on the table! Eeeek!

My boss said, "I told you! Soup, Mary! You needed soup spoons! Go!!"

Out to the dining room I walked-ran, to find the proper spoons. Talk about awkward. There were four drawers to go through. I finally found the spoons tucked under an antique looking cloth. By this time, half the soups were already on the table, placed by a co-worker. The guests were talking and hadn't tried eating yet. They were of the well mannered sort, whew. That bought me just enough time.

I worked my way around the table, neatly placing a spoon for each guest. The final spoon was set right before the last soup bowl arrived. Within a minute, they started daintily eating the soup. I reported back to the kitchen: "They have spoons. Soup's set," to my boss. She was visibly relieved but still peeved, and I apologized, twice. It took me all night to forgive myself, and I kept replaying the nightmare missing spoon scenario over and over again in my head. Pulling such a rookie move will do that.

Catering Tip: Pipe It

Piping bags are used to fill canapes, as well as drizzle everything from chocolate sauce to whipped cream and even savory pastes. Disposable piping bags are made of heavy plastic. I have two cloth ones from cooking school that get washed and re-used. Make sure to air dry sufficiently or you get mold or stinky smells!

If you forgot to buy or bring a piping bag to a catered event, you may be able to use a baggie. Of course, there's a catch: the baggie only works if the material you are piping is more liquid than paste. Think mayo, pesto, that sort of thing. To make your own piping bag, use a one gallon sturdy baggie. Cut the bottom corner off according to how wide you need your piped liquid to be: one quarter inch is a great measurement to start with. Don't make the hole too big or the liquid will rush out too quick and be too wide a ribbon.

If you are piping a thick dip, the plastic bag will start to tear in little slits. A baggie is not sturdy enough to handle the pressure of squeezing out thicker substances. Trying to force a baggie to work, almost guarantees you'll have a mess of oozing multiple holes. Not the best way to get things done or impress your clients and boss!

It's Getting Hot in Here: Smoked Salmon

For my Lake Tahoe gig last week, I started wishing for things to be different. Even though the lake views and live samba music wafting into my kitchen perch seemed at first glance ideal. To get my work finished, I wanted a more elaborate fantasy: to be in a cool, climate controlled kitchen. Think upscale and professional sushi restaurant. What I got was a humid, hot, sticky kitchen revved by two ovens cranked to 500 degrees. Let me explain lest you wonder if I've gone soft and wimpy.

I was assigned to roll 100 pieces of smoked salmon as a part of a heavenly potato chip-caviar-chive-creme fraiche item for the servers to pass. The chef showed me how he wanted the salmon sliced and then rolled. These weren't going to be sweet little roses of the type I learned how to bang out in cooking school. Chef emphasized how tight and uniform each piece should be. Together we decided it'd be best if the pieces were all the same height. I was warm in my full chef's jacket and pants, and the hot ovens were not helping. Worse, my hands were damp and I wished I wasn't "gifted" with a warm body temp from my Dad. The salmon was shredding rather than cutting, and was also sticky. I'd use Chef's small knife to roll, roll, roll, roll a piece, only to realize it was a too-fat mess. These pieces were not anywhere close to tight or attractive looking. So many times in catering I feel challenged. I want to produce quality food but feel rushed and panicky as the deadline for guests to arrive ticks closer.

When hot ovens mess with you, fight back. Rather than leave the full salmon fillet out, I wrapped most of it up and put it back in the fridge. That'd make it much easier to handle, in theory. I kept pulling batches out after I'd finish fifteen or so pieces. It was frustrating to see how slow things were still going for me, and I kept hoping the Chef wasn't pissed. He didn't seem rushed, and even announced that "we're in good shape," at one point, which slowed my pitter-pattering heart just a bit.

I realized my neck was tightening up from being hunched over. Keep going, this is not a spa. It's work. One hour and probably forty-five pieces in, I started to feel like I had finally gotten the hang of rolling tight, perfect looking pieces. Chef even gave a quick "Mmmm-hmm," on one of his peeks at my station. Omigod, he was even smiling! I put the finished pieces in the freezer and stopped after 100. I worked mainly on fully assembling the salmon apps throughout the two hour cocktail shindig. One guest and friend of the hostess came in to use a regular sized spoon to eat more caviar and salmon. More of that came later. The leftover salmon pieces went into a container and would be gobbled by our socialite client and her pals after the party ended.   

My hands still smelled of smoked salmon the next day. An early morning jump off the client's deck into the chilly Tahoe waters helped me feel cleaner and relaxed.

The Kitchen Giveth & Taketh Away

There can be some heartwarming moments in catering prep at the large kitchen I've been working in. The space is the home to scores of catering outfits, and is a buzzing hub of activity seven days a week. All that time spent sharing space means folks are forced to get to know one another. Sharing by way of "do you have a grill pan I can use," or "Help! I need half a cup of rum," happens often, if not daily.

Although I always bring a bag of nuts and a water bottle for emergencies, there's little need for snacks. (The water is a different story. It comes out of the tap with a brownish tint, and is rumored to taste terrible). My client/boss, Chef C, usually whips something up for us to eat -- both breakfast and lunch sometimes. I dig her ham and cheese melts early in the morning, cooked in rich butter. She'll share with folks that are for that day employed by other outfits. Many times, these are people she has hired or worked with over the years.

Good to keep the troops happy. It's not just a one way giving street. One day, Chef C's group was treated by a neighboring group to roast beef, carmelized onions, roasted veggies, and noodles. Flavorful goodness that hit the spot. We sat around the prep station and sighed softly as we dug in. The one advantage for the chefs to feeding everyone is there's little or no leftovers to pull from the walk-in or clean up days later.

Just when I start to feel like it's all love all the time there, I read notices posted on the walk in fridge along the lines of, "You will be fired immediately for taking anything from this walk in without express permission. We won't put up with it. Taking without asking is theft, that is STEALING. There have been numerous incidents of items disappearing. This is NOT acceptable and will NOT be taken lightly." Chef C notices when things disappear. A bottle of water or soda is one thing, but when pricier big ticket items go missing, she gets pissed. Beef, dairy, and shrimp cost serious bucks, and usually require advance ordering. It's also irritating as hell to go looking for something you need to use right away, like olive oil. You may at first feel like senility is kicking in when you can't find the item in it's usual home, or where you last left it.

Chef C caught a culprit using her aluminum foil last week. The entire ream had disappeared. However, her foil cutter leaves a distinct pattern on the ends of the foil. In a face to face discussion, Chef C asked the potential thief if he was sure he knew where the foil came from. He denied it three times until she grabbed the cutter and showed Mr. Culprit the exact same imprint on the foil he had used. "Oh yeah," he back pedaled. "I couldn't find you...." he said, mumbling. Mr. Culprit sometimes works for Chef C, and perhaps thinks her stuff is open season. Even though there are locked and covered areas for storage, it seems like it is a frustrating, constant cycle of items big and small disappearing. I would probably be and act much bitchier and pissed. Perhaps not healthy, but that's my natural reaction to territorial threats. 

 

Catered Summer Dinner Menu for 30 guests

Here's a recent menu used for an event I worked on, along with miscellaneous notes:

Roasted Yukon gold potatoes filled with creamy asiago cheese & basil aioli-I keep meaning to ask the Chef, let's call him Chef Handsome, at what point in the prep does he sprinkle crack cocaine on the potatoes. They are so addictive, guilty staff members have been spotted popping them in their mouths as soon as they come out of the oven. The creamy garlicky goodness is worth any and all burns.

Grilled shrimp brochettes with tarragon, saffron and orange-No skewer soaking, which surprised me. There weren't any splinter complaints or sightings, though. Chef Handsome had me blanch then chop the orange zest, to make it more palatable and tasty. My fingers and nails became dirty from cleaning and pulling the tarragon, but the kitchen smelled wonderful and aromatic. While I enjoyed the layered flavors, another staff member poo-pooed it because of the saffron. Silly her.

Seared beef tenderloin brochettes with a red wine glaze-Tender, succulent, medium rare beef was a particular favorite of the male guests.

Summer veggie soup topped with a Parmesan crouton-NEVER put purple cabbage in a soup. It will quickly erase any and all evidence of golden, beautiful stock, and perfectly diced vegetables. Instead, you'll have a grayish-purple goopy looking mess that is impossible to fix or cover up. A crouton is only so big, you know. Put that purple cabbage to better use in slaws and garnishes.

Ceasar Salad-Although this was a zesty, fresh looking dish, many folks only nibbled on it. Chef Handsome was concerned, but I think the problem wasn't the salad. Maybe a serving of that purplish vegetable soup left them feeling like they'd already had enough veggies and good stuff? Tough to say.

Grilled New York steak with grilled asparagus and red onion, and mashed potatoes. Chef Handsome used white and green asparagus spears, and each guest received five total. Then came a pinch of the carmelized onions, and a pretty scoop of perfect mashers. Chef Handsome shared his trick for light, fluffy, perfect mashed potatoes, "Save some of the potato cooking water. Use that instead of stock. You won't need as much butter, and the water will provide saltiness." Mmmmmm.

I asked, "Do you let the potatoes sit for fifteen minutes, to cool before mashing?" Another Chef I know is adamant that that is one crucial step for texture and flavor alike.

"Yes," he said. I will repeat his potato water trick soon.

The steak was such a hit, that one female guest wandered into the kitchen, looking around. With a somewhat regal air, she asked Chef Handsome, "Where are the rest of the steaks? I'm looking for food for my dog. He's sick. Poor thing. Is there a steak I can take home for him, on a plate? Or in a doggie bag?" I thought to myself, "Lady, you've totally got priority issues. WTF?" Even though we had a handful of leftover steaks cooling and hidden under foil, Chef Handsome mumbled some sort of apology and shrugged. I was so glad he was saving those steaks for the clients. They needed to go to humans, not sick dogs. The regal woman shifted her weight and looked around some more and said, "Oh. Well. It was really good steak. He would've loved some." No doubt.

Chocolate cake with summer raspberries. Caffe Trieste Coffee & assorted teas. Steak, mashed potatoes, and this chocolate cake could easily pass as my last meal on Earth. While I'd go with a huge smile on my face, I am so over raspberries or mint as a garnish. However, there may be a dearth of options. Aside from tuiles and mini cookies, it's tough to come up with other dessert garnish options, eh?

Bar Menu: Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, Merlot, and Pinot Noir. Sammuel Smith's and Corona. Crystal Geyser and Pellegrino. Coke, Diet Coke, and 7-Up. Sorry I didn't note the producers and vintages on the vino.

Book Review: Living in a Foreign Language

If you found this via The Menu Pages, welcome!

Have you ever wondered what it'd be like to pack everything up and move to Italy? A nice dreamy fantasy, but what would that new life really be like? It helps to have a Marin home to sell to make this a reality, sure. Still, I enjoyed reading actor Michael Tucker's chronicle of buying a cottage in the Umbrian countryside because he is obsessed with food and cooking. His passion is evident in every word, and his memory of each meal--with ever present vino, of course-- is fun and enjoyable. He has a constant internal debate about what to find or eat for his next meal, and admits to having a "greedy, gluttonous beast" that lies within. Reviewing the eating possibilities is always part of the fun. The reader gets to know Tucker and his wife Jill Eikenberry, who seem to be filled with love and joy even after decades of living and acting together. They've got the acting chops but are thankfully down to earth, fun folks, who lack snobbery or pretension.

Many readers who swoon over food may easily relate to Tucker's food and wine chronicles on all counts. His main priority while traveling and visiting new places matches those of "foodies": to find the best food spots. Sightseeing isn't necessarily as important as sourcing one's next meal, and sometimes the fun is in the journey of discovery. As Tucker puts it while describing one Italian outing, "Our itinerary skirted churches, castles, museums and such, and focused in a very direct way on food and wine." Having a new town and home in the Italian countryside gives him the luxury of time to meet and get to know local butchers, wine makers, restaurateurs, and the like. He also makes friends with a "merry throng" of fun and food loving ex-pats who are down for the best pizza, pasta or other native dish. It's an enjoyable trip to learn about, and Tucker rightfully knows he's lucky.

During his travels and life in the country side, he learns about truffle dogs, prosciutto, olive oil, strongozzi (a round noodle), cheese making, the rules of eating great gelato, and how to negotiate and speak in somewhat rough Italian. Risotto is still "the most magical cooking process," and one of the many tasty things he explores. Life is great, but hurdles do exist. There are permits and waits for their dream cottage to become a reality, but the anticipation seems to be par for the course, and a dose of reality. Their rustico inevitably becomes a haven for relaxation and enjoyment (yes, Tucker and Eikenberry still have an active sex life that he is not coy about), and seems like an ideal way to live and learn in a new country. How nice to have "time pass(es) gently; there's no sense of hurry or direction."

L.A. Law fans will enjoy learning Hollywood tidbits. The couple's shared history includes time in Marin and NYC, which is fun to hear about, too. Tucker and Eikenberry have participated in hippy dippy counseling sessions that may amuse and tickle. As they settle in for more simple adventures, it's easy to be lulled into appreciating their shared goals and way of life. The only burning question that may remain is, "How can I end up where they are?"

Find out more in person when Tucker and Eikenberry are featured at the Commonwealth Club on Wednesday July 25. Tickets are $8-$15, and check in begins at 11:30 a.m. If I didn't have to cater, I'd be all over this one.

Bananas Foster? Share the Love.

Sampling Bananas Foster at Jen Leo's Vegas wedding recently got me thinking. I shared the excitement of watching the wait staff prepare the sweet dessert. There was lots of eager anticipation, and people would say to each other with awe and surprise, "Bananas Foster? They're making it?" True, it can be so much fun to see the alcohol flames quickly shoot up and die out as the bananas caramelize. Bananas Foster should be made for friends and family on festive occasions. In my past, I had let it turn into something else.

I'm thrilled to have new memories associated with Bananas Foster. I first learned to make the dessert table side in cooking school. The instructor was a retired restaurateur who loved to freely sample booze before and during class.  Not that I judged him too much. My own reality felt only slightly less pitiful. I had broken up with a long term live-in boyfriend and moved home to my folks place ("just for a few months" I said). I felt like a loser for many reasons. By the time I'd reach their house late each night after class, the family oddball cat would sit with me in the dark, with the TV usually glazing in the background. Sometimes I'd read notes from class, or thumb through cookbooks. I also went through a serious Bananas Foster phase, where I decided  to whip up the dessert for myself at midnight. Repeat almost every other night for two weeks. This was even if I had cooked it for restaurant guests at school. I remember feeling dull, tired, and lonely when I cooked the Bananas Foster for myself those nights. I tried to cheer myself into thinking I was becoming something of an expert in its preparation. But really, how high is the demand for that "skill"?

As the Golden Steer staff passed us our Bananas Foster, I bragged to Oscar, "I know how to make this. I can make it for you." Perhaps because he had been freely drinking all day, he answered in a sassy laugh, "But you won't." Oh, the challenge was on!

When I made it for us at home, he wanted to know the exact recipe, and even started looking around the kitchen for a cookbook. The man is a stickler for recipes and cooking process. He doesn't fully realize I've got the Bananas Foster thing down. Or that it's like riding a bike. Yes, it's a skill that returns easily even if it's been many years. I pointed to my mise-en-place of orange zest, 1 mildly spotted banana, brandy (no rum in the house. Time to explore), Ben & Jerry's vanilla ice cream, and brown sugar. I was hungry for the dessert and we both were excited to watch the bananas caramelize and cook.

Oscar was eying my outfit and scolded me, "You shouldn't be wearing baggy clothes on this one. What if you catch on fire?" Nope, I wasn't going to change. The cooking had already started, and my long sleeved purple cotton PJ's were comfy if not too sexy. I'll cop to one mistake on this joyful night: using too big of a skillet and getting overzealous with the brandy. When I touched the match to the skillet, a loud and fast WHOOSH of flames went out and over. I jerked my arm back quickly and turned my face away. Oscar claimed I "looked really scared" in those 2 seconds, but there's no way of confirming that.

We ate the sticky, gooey, creamy dessert in peace. There wasn't a lot of talking, but we were both definitely happy. Our plan is to make the dessert for family in San Diego, when we visit them next month. Share the Bananas Foster love. So much better than sitting in the dark, eating glumly, and talking to the TV, and a cat.

Share Our Strength's Taste of the Nation SF

More Flickr pics here.

Last night's Share Our Strength Taste of the Nation event at San Francisco Acme Chophouse reportedly raised nearly 78K (final reports pending). Stars in attendance, and in the kitchen, included Chuck Williams, emcee Tyler Florence,  Tracy Chapman, Traci Des Jardins, Elizabeth Falkner, Thom Fox, April Bloomfield, Chris Cosentino, Jason Tallent, Stafford Mather, James Syhabout, Paul Arenstam, Scott Youklis, Stuart Bioza, Loretta Keller, Joseph Manzare, the Backburner Blues Band & Mr. Bud E. Luv, the tablehopper, Bob Helmstrom, Staffan Tarje, and Chris Cosentino.

 

There was a lively cocktail hour with music courtesy of the Back Burner Blues band. Folks mulled silent auction items (kitchen mixer, toaster, cookbooks, caviar, vino & champagne, anyone?), nibbled caviar and passed apps. Once everyone was seated, Florence kicked off the festivities. SOS was explained, Chuck Williams was honored, and five big ticket items were auctioned live. The biggest sell at 25K was dinner for fifteen guests, prepared in home by Keller, Des Jardins, and Falkner. After the auction, guests made their way home while many of the chefs and staff headed to the beautiful wooden bar, to celebrate a job well done.

MENU

Sweet corn pudding with anchovies & basil salad
Chef April Bloomfield - The Spotted PIg
2006 Sauvignon Blanc, Hall, Napa Valley

Bellwether Ricotta stuffed squash blossoms, wild mushrooms & herbs
Chef Loretta Keller - Coco500
2004 Pinot Noir, Mahoney, Carneros

Rotisserie Tronchetto & fennel with aioli & salsa verde
Chef Chris Cosentino - Incanto
2003 Sangiovese, Monte Antico, Tuscano

A Selection of American cheeses
Sweet grass dairy "Green Hill" Farmstead cow's milk, California
Bellwether Farms "Pepato" raw farmstead aged sheep's milk with peppercorns, California
Cypress Grove "Humboldt Fog" goat's milk, California
Roth Kase "Gran Queso Riserva" cow's milk, Washington
2003 Girard Artistry, Napa Valley
Chef Thom Fox & Chef Traci Des Jardins - ACME Chophouse & Jardiniere

Citizen Shortcake
Chef Elizabeth Falkner - Citizen Cake
2006 Moscato D'Asti, Luigi Coppo, Piedmonte, Italy.

Last gossipy items: look for cookbooks from Altman and Falkner, with photography by Frankie Faheny.

Buy it, Read It: Chile Pepper Magazine

It's finally here! The August 2007 issue of Chile Pepper magazine landed in my mail box today. You can find my Home from the Salsa Wars piece with pics, along with salsa recipes from SF taquerias. It was tough to get 2 of the restaurant owners to give up the recipes. I used my flirty ways and would do so again, all for the sake of good food writing.

Copies of Chile Pepper magazine are available at big box bookstores or by subscription. I'm looking into copies at local bookstores and will report back.

Considering attending the California Culinary Academy?

Then you must read this scathing critique from the SF Weekly. Cooking school via the California Culinary Academy can lead to massive student loan debt that leaves many would-be cooks (they can't call themselves chefs just yet!) left scrambling to make ends meet. Many entry level cooking positions are minimum wage or only a few dollars more.

There are other problems with the CCA's pay-to-play strategy. When I was at the CCA (and paying 35K), students were allowed to stay at the school if they paid their tuition and/or had student loans. No matter if someone exhibited behavior that would easily get them booted from any job or other school: showing up drunk and/or seriously wasted on drugs, making menacing threats, using racist language, acting verbally and physically abusive, etc. One of my trustafarian classmates had a history of badgering and threatening women, and in one disturbing incident, used his knife to repeatedly stab a table in the butchery class to make his point. When I questioned the head Chef about why Mr. Disturbed could possibly stay in school given his history of borderline deeds, I was told to basically put up and get along with him, as if such potentially dangerous behavior was amusing rather than problematic or dangerous. The Head Chef even joked that Mr. Disturbed was in love with me, which is why I was sometimes the recipient of his odd threats. Later, another Chef took me aside and asked what I had been complaining about. When I told him, he sighed, and said, "Mary, that's one of the things that really bothers me about this place. We see that sort of stuff a lot, but there's not much we are ever allowed to do to stop it. It's about money, money, money."

If you want to attend cooking school in the Bay Area, weigh all your options. Community college programs at City College in SF, and Diablo Valley College offer other, less pricey alternatives. Another way to get in a kitchen is start from the bottom and work your way up. If you consistently show you are able to work hard, learn quickly, and handle the pressure, there will eventually be better jobs for you to do.

SFist: Patricia Wells Cooks

I learned more about Patricia Wells this week, on a visit to Purcell Murray. She's charming, smart, and knows her cooking! More dets at SFist.

Meeting Martha Stewart

She's always made me a little suspicious and scared, but I still wouldn't turn down a chance to meet Martha Stewart. Let's blame my Mom, since she's a longtime Martha Stewart magazine subscriber and fan.

Meeting Martha Stewart in the early 1990s was fascinating. My chance to see her  came via my slave work as a KPIX-5 CBS intern, in San Francisco. A producer told me she would be in studio, and that I should stop by and take any leftover props for the community affairs program (remember Bay Sunday, anyone?) I worked for. The chance to spy on Martha sounded great.

The only other folks in the studio during her taping were two male super gay assistants. I quickly introduced myself to one, and found out he was also local. "My God," he stage whispered, "Her budget for greens alone is over seven hundred dollars! After we finish, it's bye-bye, don't need the greens anymore," he promised. Yes, Martha's bounty would be mine! There was a huge and beautiful wreath, and piles of flowers and green vines. Martha was friendly yet precise when the cameras rolled. The segment was less than seven minutes. Her greens budget was probably more than Bay Sunday's entire budget.

Now it was my turn to be cheesy. I usually never bug celebrities for anything, because it seems silly. Martha was the one exception, because I knew my Mom would be so excited to have an autograph from her. When I met Martha, I lied and smiled as I said, "I'm a big fan." Martha smiled and preened a little and kept messing with her bangs. (She'd been playing with them whenever the camera wasn't on. Maybe it was time for a trim?) I held up a pen and paper and asked, "I was wondering if you would sign this. It's for my Mom. She's a huge fan. She gets your magazine, and loves all your stuff."

"Oh?" Martha said, pulling the bangs a little more. "Yes, dear. What's her name?"

"Mary Ann," I said, timidly (what the hell was wrong with me? I'm NOT a fan, my Mom is!) .

She wrote out a note to my Mom that read, "Dear Mary Ann, Here's to enjoying wonderful and beautiful things in life. Best wishes, Martha Stewart." I thanked Martha (more fidgety bang play from her) and she offered her hand. Her assistants were right there, to whisk her away to the next stop on her SF tour.

Later, my Mom and I compared the note to the signature and writing in her magazine. She is a total chicken scratcher when it comes to writing! It is not clean and dainty, the way it looks in the mag. Her cursive was compact and a little smashed together, not flowing and beautiful. Well, everyone has their quirks.

Hangi Time in New Zealand

Hangi (pronounced hung-ee) is a unique Maori way of cooking that is native to New Zealand. "Good tucker" aptly applies here, which  means "good eats," and "good eating." A hangi is an event and a process. As an event, it's a reason for a social party revolving around the presentation and eating of food.

The hangi method is steaming and smoking meats and root vegetables and can be done two ways. Hangi food -- lamb shoulder, lamb leg roast, pork roast and a muslin bag of squash, onion, potato, kumara (a sweet potato), herbs, salt and pepper -- is wrapped in huge cabbage leaves and placed in an underground pit with hot rocks, where it is covered and cooked.

Considering we drank beer every day on our three week vacation (like the Kiwis we were with), a beer-related hangi seemed apropos. This updated modern hangi happens in, you guessed it, a revamped beer keg. According to our hosts, Paul and Marie Whiting of Simpsons Beach, the beer keg hangi saves a lot of headaches. They had attended hangis using the underground method where the (drunk) cooks on duty opened the cooking pit too early. Once all that precious steam and heat escapes, there is not another chance to re-do it, which leads to undercooked meat and hungry, frustrated guests. Other factors effect the underground hangi: changes in weather, and not getting the rocks used for heating hot enough.

A propane tank is the heat source for the keg hangi. Next comes two kinds of New Zealand tree sawdust that are mixed and added to the keg base. The hangi is lit and heated for 30-45 minutes. Water is then poured on the dust, which provides the steam action. Veggies should be halved and the cabbage leaves rinsed. A basket will hold the hangi cabbage (first layer), followed by meats and veggies. The veggies pick up a meaty smokiness to them from laying on top of the meat.

How did the hangi taste three hours later? Smoky, tender, juicy, and hearty. The meats all had the texture of braised pork, and were succulent. It was a simple, straightforward meal. My favorite bites were of farm fresh lamb, onion, and kumara. Of course, every gathering needs a sweet ending. Ours came in the way of a pavlova made by the hosts' 78-year old Mum, and a carrot cake by my aunt.

Oscar and I stayed late enough to watch Merle Haggard and other country western legends on a DVD from the early seventies. Paul couldn't believe we "young folks" knew many of the songs. He was having so much fun, he offered a room for us to stay in, which we should've done. I was too hung up on having a tooth brush, face medicine, and jammies to accept. I'm guessing we missed a chance to continue drinking, listening to music and talking. I wish we had stayed over.

Meet Our New Baby

Being around a newborn baby got me thinking. Ummm, what? Well, last week, our good friends' baby, Samuel Harrison Cooper, was born. With that, I'd like you to meet our new baby.  After months of my sweet yet forceful harping and cajoling, our landlord agreed it was time to kick our Sanford and Son era stove to the curb.

I absolutely do not have any pics to show you because the old stove was awful: ancient, creaky, unable to light without rolling on the floor and lighting underneath with a match by hand each time. Why would I want pics of that mess (unless as evidence of how fucked up it was)? Perhaps my verbal and written descriptions of the oven door not closing and warping the kitchen cabinets made the landlord finally take notice of our plight. Sadly (not!) I was at work when the stove swap occurred. Oscar reported it looked like our old one should be put to rest in a junkyard. Oh, and that the Sanford and Son intro song would've been the best tune to hear as the old one went down our stairs and into a truck. The new stove is everything I think a baby should be: clean and comforting to be around.

Book Review: The United States of Arugula

I wish The United States of Arugula: How We Became a Gourmet Nation came out while I was first thinking about going to cooking school. It's exactly the sort of knowledge I was hungry for. I particularly enjoyed reading about more juicy food world dirt as well as how important the West Coast and Bay Area food scene has been in helping our country develop and fine tune its collective palate. True, it's certainly important to read separate tomes on and by noteworthy cooks from the past such as: Careme, Escoffier, Fannie Farmer, and others of their ilk. If you can't take the time and effort for that research, then The United States of Arugula book reports on and covers a huge amount of culinary history material in an engaging way. The biggie questions answered are: Who are the people who helped shape our country's eating and cooking habits? How and why did they do it?

The United States of Arugula goes far beyond being a useful primer. Now food professionals, writers, and those otherwise interested in or obsessed with their food (the book's author, David Kamp, can't get around the use of the dreaded "foodie" term, either) can use it as a historical-sociological-economical guide. Not only that, Kamp has got the juicy and sometimes excruciating (perhaps for those that were there) gossip on major celeb players, including James Beard, Mark Miller, Bill Niman, Alice Waters, Orville Schell, Chuck Williams, Wolfgang Puck, Julia Child, Jacques Pepin, Craig Claiborne, Emeril Lagasse, and more. It's fascinating and definitely worth a read.

SFist (Catering) post

Dear Blog,

I'm not ignoring you. See, I've found someone else.... That's the lame beginning to a Dear John type letter I was always too chicken to write in my dating days. It's not that I'm really leaving my blog. It's just that I have somewhere else to devote some (not all) attention to, that's all.

This weekend, I posted for SFist about Why The Caterer Needs Some Chill Time. I'm dying to know: restaurant workers, caterers, and other related peeps, how do YOU feel when you're catering? Tales of woe and mischief are mightily prized and can of course be kept anonymous.

Cheers,

M

Beer Can Chicken fits the bill for large groups

Beer Can Chicken can be a fun and quirky way to get tasty results: tender, moist, flavorful chicken. It's quirky because the two-thirds full beer can goes into the chicken's cavity or butt area while cooking. Not everyone wants to see a beer can chicken at the actual dinner table, which is understandable. That may be a little to bounty hunter/cave man for me. I'm after the cooking method rather than visual results.

The first time I gave some to my parents, my Mom called a day later. "What did you DO to that chicken?" she marvelled in hushed tones, adding it was "so good." She's had a lifetime of great chicken via my Dad, the BBQ Master. I held her compliment (said quietly into the phone so as to not rock the marital boat) in high regard.

Oscar and I were assigned entree duty for a potluck for twenty-two people. We decided on beer can chicken over A16's meatballs, or any other dish. The chicken won out because I knew it would hold at room temperature. Keep in mind estimated versus actual eating time can be a huge unknown when going to house parties. Our entree had to look and taste good for at least an hour and a half, and I wasn't sure how many people ate red meat. Plus, cooking beer can chicken gave us a good story to tell, which helped because I barely knew any of the other potluck guests.

We were one of the first to arrive, and took the foil off of our platter. The plump, moist chicken looked pretty good, and I did a garnish of purple cabbage leaves, with alternating orange and citrus slices underneath the chicken. There was good variety, too: pulled chicken bites, wings and legs to choose from. Something funny happened as the other dishes were put out. Everyone brought store bought chicken, including a KFC carton and roaster from Cala. Even a salad was, you guessed it, Chinese chicken salad, in a plastic to go container. I imagined a voiceover that said in soothing tones, "Chicken, the safe, safe entree for San Francisco dinner potlucks."

"Oscar, I can't believe it! We are the only ones who made our dish," I whispered to him on the deck, adding slightly panicked, "I think our chicken needs salt."

"There's salt here, if people want to salt, let 'em do it," he said. I picked another piece of chicken off our plate and was convinced it needed salt. I never found any salt, but our beer can chicken display kept getting smaller and smaller, so I stopped worrying. There were only a few pieces for us to take home. I was glad I stuck to my guns and cooked four rather than three beer can chickens.

Beer Can Chicken Recipe-loosely adapted from http://www.barbecuebible.com

1 can (12 ounces) Tecate beer (feel free to substitute other beer)
1 chicken (31/2 to 4 pounds)
2 tablespoons Barbecue Rub (recipe below) or your favorite commercial rub
2 teaspoons avocado or vegetable oil (Note avocado oil works well at high temps)

1 lime per bird

You’ll also need: A hotel or sheet pan to place the chicken on. A large cast iron skillet will also work.

Heat oven to 450 degrees.

Pop the tab off the beer can. Pour one third of the beer (3/4 cup) into a bowl, or reserve for another use (drinking it is of course a great way to go). If cooking the chicken on the can, using a church key-style can opener, make 2 additional holes in its top. Set the can of beer aside. Remove the packet of giblets from the body cavity of the chicken and set aside for another use (cat food!). Remove and discard the fat just inside the body and neck cavities. Rinse the chicken, inside and out, under cold running water and then drain and blot dry, inside and out, with paper towels. Be sure the skin is dry, so that it will brown evenly.

Sprinkle the rub under the skin, inside the body cavity and 1/2 teaspoon inside the neck cavity of the chicken. Drizzle the oil over the outside of the bird and rub or brush it all over the skin. Sprinkle the outside of the bird with 1 tablespoon of rub and rub it all over the skin. Spoon the remaining 1 1/2 teaspoons of rub into the beer through a hole in the top of the can. Don’t worry if the beer foams up: This is normal.

Hold the bird upright, with the opening of the body cavity at the bottom, and lower it onto the beer can so the can fits into the cavity. Try not to laugh at how floppy the bird may initially be. Pull the chicken legs forward to form a sort of tripod, so the bird stands upright. The rear leg of the tripod is the beer can. Squeeze the juice of 1/2 a lime over the top of the bird. Stuff the half lime in the bird's neck. If cooking on a roaster (which I don't feel is needed): Fill it with the beer mixture and position the chicken on top, following the manufacturer’s instructions.

Tuck the tips of the wings behind the chicken’s back. Cook the chicken until the skin is a dark golden brown and very crisp and the meat is cooked through (about 180°F on an instant-read meat thermometer inserted in the thickest part of a thigh, but not touching the bone), one hour to one and a half hours. If you see white foam at the bottom of the chicken while cooking, do not worry. Also, if the chicken skin starts to brown too much, loosely tent the bird with aluminum foil.

Take the chicken out of the over and allow to rest for ten minutes or until cool enough to handle. Carefully lift it off its support. Take care not to spill the hot beer or otherwise burn yourself. Halve, quarter, or carve the chicken and serve.

All-Purpose Barbecue Rub

1/4 cup coarse salt (kosher or sea)
1/4 cup dark brown sugar
1/4 cup blend of sweet or hot paprika, cumin, oregano, and chipotle
2 tablespoons freshly ground white pepper

Put the salt, brown sugar, and other ingredients in a small bowl and stir to mix. (Your fingers actually work better for mixing the rub than a spoon or whisk does.) Store the rub in an airtight jar away from heat and light; it will keep for at least 6 months. Makes about 3/4 cup.