Mary Ladd

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.

Handshake Surprise

This post made it to Chow's Grinder, too.

It's a great event when a catering client says at the end of the night, "Thank you," and extends his hand. The catering handshake is a potentially awkward yet always exhilirating delight. Yes, I've found that the man takes on the duty of doling out the cash tips to catering staff. Not ever the woman. After I say, "You're welcome," and maybe add something like, "anytime," I step away from the handshake. My eyes may be a little glazed and tired at that point, but the smile is HUGE and quite genuine.

I internally scream to myself, "Yes!!!!" and usually can't wait to get outside or to a private place to check out how much cash I've been awarded. Last night's handshake yielded only one bill. "Aw c'mon!" I groused to myself. Until I realized it was a fifty dollar bill. One event can yield anywhere from twenty to a hundred and twenty dollars. It helps if the client has been drinking and likes to flirt, of course. That is one similarity to waiting tables: flirting can yield potentially bigger tips.

After the money shot handshake and discreet peek, I like to leave the cash in my right pocket. Then, I'll touch it every few minutes on the drive home while I blast dinosaur rock music. My reason for the pocket love touch is to reassure myself that the bills have not fallen or gotten lost. It's also a fun surprise to have wads of cash in my pocket rather than safely stowed away in my wallet.

Cash tips are better to receive in person. Let's say I have been hired by a catering company for an event in a grand, private home. Trust me, the catering company is not going to share the full wealth. Most catering companies pass along a tip of maybe forty dollars per event. That income is reported and taxed, where cash is not. One longtime owner of a prominent Bay Area catering company has what employees scornfully call the Tip House and Tip Cars. As in: "Our tips bought that wine country vacation house, and those luxe cars." I'll take the handshake surprises so I can stow away for my own Tip House, thank you.

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.

The Devil in the Kitchen

My SFist write up of an Incanto dinner honoring Marco Pierre White is here. Flickr stream here. Menu Pages blurb here.
 

Uber chef Marco Pierre White's book, The Devil in the Kitchen is the food intense story of his life in restaurants. There aren't the usual tales of drugs and booze, but it is fascinating nonetheless. That is one difference from some other modern chef tales & depictions that are popular today. It's clear that White remained devoted to work and practicing his craft above all else: family and relationships were lower priorities. Don't worry, though. He did eventually allow himself to have fun & lovin' with all sorts of ladies. Even better for celebrity chef-philes, there is stellar gossip since he has worked with-and dishes some dirt on-the Roux brothers, Mario Batali, Heston Blumenthal and Gordon Ramsay.  There's even a dash of celeb gossip by way of appearances from Madonna, Michael Caine, and Damien Hirst.

White's happiness in the kitchen continued to grow after his first experience at getting paid for providing pleasure as a fish seller. Yes, he's happy, but he eventually became a boss who would regularly throw tantrums. With reason. The anger and fits stemmed from a commitment to high quality, which seems to make sense when you consider how much effort White always applied to his food and restaurants. He now has an empire to show for it all. As a boss and business owner, he sought respect and loyalty from those working for and with him. 

This consistent hard work earned him three Michelin stars, which set a historical precedent because he was the youngest to do so. It shocked some when he gave his stars up when he retired. That's something many chefs wouldn't think to do, because with the stars go notoriety, glory, and ample profits. But it shows White's integrity: why keep stars if he won't be in the kitchen, preparing the food? For chefs like Anthony Bourdain, White was the "original rock star chef" because he was so obsessed and brilliant in his craft. When they see each other, White told me he and Bourdain swap tales over "fags," their beloved cigarettes.

White's food lessons are enjoyable and pop up throughout the book. He uses simple and stark language to explain things like the texture and flavor differences in a raw versus grilled tomato. Cooks of all stripes will benefit from his lessons on food, ingredients, cooking and the role of nature. It's not surprising that he has always respected nature, and is a fan of hunting (in person, he calls hunting, "stalking"). His full story is worth checking out.

For another review of White's book, read Incanto Chef Chris Cosentino's tribute from this Sunday's San Francisco Chronicle book section. His Editor--okay, it's my husband, Oscar Villalon--told me there was little editing needed. Chef Chris's take on the night can be read here.

You Smell Like Bacon

Serious Eats included this meaty number in a round up.

I cooked a pound of bacon, and allowed it to cool before storing in the fridge. Oscar was completely wowed by how our place smelled. I liked the smell, too, and was looking forward to eating the bacon later that week with sandwiches, salads and eggs.

It seemed like I was trying to relax as much as possible that night. Eating bacon was a source of comfort. I had a big first day the next morning, starting work on a project that would last a few months. I was dreading an early start the next day. I wanted time to take a bath, read the papers, make and drink coffee and eat breakfast. I set my alarm for 6  a.m., with the goal of leaving no later than 7 a.m.

The next morning, Oscar shook me and asked, "What time is it?" I jumped out of bed and started howling. It was 7:08 a.m. This was awful, and I was starting to panic and sweat thinking about being late for my first day. I quickly realized I wouldn't even be able to take a bath or shower, given how late I already was. As I moved around, I realized my hair really smelled like bacon. A lot. Sure, that's a nice smell for home, but not something I wanted to share at the office. As I sped down 101, I kept getting bacon whiffs.

The folks on my new project probably thought I was weird that first day. Rather than expose them to my bacony smells, I would lean way back whenever someone greeted me or came close. I didn't nod my head yes or no in a meeting, for fear it would trigger puffs of bacon smells from my long hair. Just gave loud mmmm-hmmms instead. I'm not sure if anyone actually noticed the bacon smells I brought that first day. No way I was going to pipe up and ask.

When I told friends about it, the husband's eyes bugged out and he asked in a semi-shocked tone, "What do you mean, you smelled like bacon from the night before?!" He had pictured Oscar slathering bacon on me, in some sort of sex play. Uh, no.

 

Fancy Food Show love

Candy Blog liked this post and included it in a round up on the show. I'm showing off some Fancy Food Show loot. Working as a booth babe has its bennies!

The last day of the show always fills me with anticipation and strong desire. This past Tuesday, I had a list of items I wanted to scavenge. Competition was tight with my co-workers at the booth. I noticed the two first days of the show, they'd mutter and eye the cold case of items, and debate which ones they hoped to take. For starters, I am a lot more sneaky at getting what I want. But, I also had a competitive edge. I brought a gigantic suitcase (Rule Number Four: make sure your bags have tons of pockets!), back pack (see Rule Number Four), and one other bag. While my co-workers said stuff like "You're so funny!" as they noticed me dropping bottles and packages into my suitcase, I wanted to tell them I'm more like deadly serious. But that might've been too dramatic and scary so I smiled and kept moving.

I planned on stuffing my suitcase with as much food as possible, and had been smiling and flirting at other booths so as to raid their loot. I didn't come home with a whole prosciutto or Serrano ham leg, which I really was hoping for. I asked and asked at various Italian and Euro themed booths, but most whole legs were being given back to the distributor locally, or shipped home. Sad! And no, I didn't want to buy one, that is so(!) beside the point of Ms.-Don't-Mind-If-I-Do living. I put so much pressure on myself to get the prosciutto leg or other giant piece of cheese, I was ready to barf mid-afternoon. My breathing was faster than normal, and walking the show floor only made it speed up even more.

The dreamy thoughts I had at this point kept jumping all over the place: chocolate! Cheese! Honey! Olive Oil! Cookies! Tea! Coffee (dare I ask for whole beans for free? Nahhhh.) The overall take of most of the items just listed, with a healthy dose of cured meats, pasta, Javan spices, blood sausage, pate, and chicken, pleased Oscar and filled our cupboards and fridge. Now that the show is over, I can move on to another mental game: how many meals can I eat off one show? The other fun side game is finding out exactly how much the items cost. Last night at Bristol Farms (just looking, you picketers!), half of one of our cheese wheels was priced at a whopping $64. Yeesh.

SFist Harry Denton and Donna Sachet's Drag Brunch

Ryan Tate at Covers has analysis on my Drag Brunch piece for SFist, from this week. Yes, news does travel fast on poor service these days. However even if the service was a drag at first, Cassandra Cass, pictured at left, and the other performers did a great job.

CHOW Mention

Making a List, Checking it Twice made it on CHOW's Grinder.

Food Notebook Mention

Carter at Food Notebook liked the info on the Free Chocolate exhibit and included me in a round up.