Live Life, Eat Right

Sweet Summer Time.

A Memory: My mom’s Summer garden was always full of herbs and flowers. She religiously watered her precious treasures throughout the day and had a “t-shirt tan” to prove it. I admired her dedication, however; I never understood why she was outside during the hottest hours of the day slaving over plants. Did it really matter what the outside of the house looked like? My childish-self certainly did not care about flowers, or take notice. As far as I was concerned “watering the garden” seemed like a chore–a waste of water and time.

I was content spending my Summer at swim practice in the morning and in our air-conditioned house in the afternoon. Every now and then boredom would strike and I needed to find something to occupy my curiosity. One afternoon I decided to leave the comfort of the cool air and television. I put on my bathing suit to play in the sprinkler outside and explore the fluffy purple chives and mint plants in “mom territory”. (I had a keen interest in herbs at an early age and was constantly smelling, eating and monitoring my mom’s herb boxes.)

Tiny white flowers caught my eye. I took a closer look. A small…minuscule… green berry was attached. “Mom is growing strawberries?!” I thought to myself. I took an interest in her garden. Beyond the flowers, we had food. Delicious, sweet, dessert-like food.

I went back day after day, patiently waiting until the berries transformed into brilliant red drops. When the time was right I harvested my findings. They were much smaller than the berries we purchased at the grocery store and the color was deeper. I was excited to devour them.

The flavor was unlike any I had ever experienced. “So THIS is what a strawberry is supposed to taste like?” I thought to myself. My berries were juicy and red through-out. They were so sweet that I could not even fathom adding sugar to the bowl.

 At that point I realized that I was a creature of culture, constantly relying on my grocery store to provide the best produce. I was always looking for the biggest strawberries with minimal bruises. The strawberries I knew had white centers and slightly pink skins. When eating, a dusting sugar was necessary to draw out some of the juice, and add sweetness.

I felt ignorant. Food is a gift. It is a privilege. It is the product of labor and dedication to the land.

Thank you mom for teaching me a lesson. The time, patience and dedication farmer’s have for their crops is not spent in vain. The result is the best food I’ve ever tasted.

Slow Food,

Nora

As my time in California is coming to a close (for now), I find myself busier than ever. Between writing my Externship Manual for school and trying to absorb the area, I’ve had little time to pause.

Most of my time at work has been spent working and running the Garde Manger (hot & cold apps) and Pastry Station. I’ve been going through photos and experiences I have written about in my Externship Manual and wanted to share a few food favorites:

#1 Banana-Rum Napoleon with Coconut Sorbet and Salted Caramel Sauce

#2 House-made Ice Creams: Chai (Chef’s Blend), Mint Chocolate Chip and Espresso Ice Cream with House-Made Chocolate Covered Espresso Bean

#3 “Spring Salad”- Julianne Baby Bok Choy, Shaved Radish, Sweet Peas, Mint, Toasted Cashew & Rhubarb Vinagrette.

More Adventures (and food) to come!

Nora

When this Lemon Meringue Tart comes to your table it looks airy, light, comforting, and even innocent. The classic shortbread crust evokes memories from childhood–maybe it was your mom’s rustic fruit pie or grandmother’s chocolate cream pie. You cannot figure out where you have tasted this crust before, but that does not matter. The simple satisfaction whisks your troubles away.

Little do you know that this “innocent” dessert is a bully.

A devoted, particular, perfectionist pastry chef in the back of the restaurant was taunted by ingredients and beaten with a whisk during Lemon Meringue’s production. Or, rather, I should say mentally and physically broken down by way of whisk. Allow me to explain.

The Crust: “A simple task.” You think to yourself. Only a few ingredients–butter, sugar, eggs, flour, salt. It shouldn’t take long to collect, measure, portion and chill, right?

But then you remember that making 6-times the recipe requires more flour and sugar than you have at your station and you run back to the dry-storage area more times than you care to admit.

Once everything is finally in order you make your way to the mixer, dump in the ingredients and *POOF*! Someone left the mixer on the highest setting and you forgot to change it. Flour. EVERYWHERE! Maybe white is your new color? As you add the eggs, you notice that your typical beige dough is almost neon yellow.  Maybe organic was not the best choice for this recipe? Maybe this just isn’t your day?

You clean your flour mess and prepare to carry the yellow mass to the prep table. You feel as if you are going to break your back lifting the industrial size mixer and upon your return, you discover that someone has used the table in your absence. Now you must clean, sanitize and dry the table AGAIN before rolling out the dough. You take a deep breath. *Sigh*. And gather cleaning supplies.

Roll. Cut. Plastic wrap every portion. Search the kitchen for a hotel pan to fit your perfectly shaped disks in. Refrigerate. Clean. Take a sip of water and move on to the next task.

When the dough is chilled you retaliate with a French rolling pin and a tub of flour. You violently throw flour around the kitchen (to prevent the dough from sticking) and strike the dough over and over (to make it easier to roll so the butter doesn’t get too warm–a better formed crust.). Your co-workers are terrified as they pass by you, wondering if the wooden pin will withstand the force, and assuming insanity. Despite their judgments, rolling tart shells is a great way to dissipate rage.

The Curd: The curd is a chore. You have to prepare yourself for mental turmoil before you embark on this tedious task. Every time you make curd you look back and remember your first attempt and the way the curd burned on the bottom of the pan because your dominate arm muscle wasn’t in “Whisking Condition” and you forgot to scrape the sides as the curd thickened.

Ratios matter.

The restaurant has a prep team in the morning that prepares fresh-squeezed juices for the bar. You have some Meyer Lemon juice available to you from that, however; if you are going forward with this time consuming task, you decide you want to make a larger quantity. You get out your hand-juicer and over 2-dozen tiny lemons and pray to get another 1-quart out of them.

Once you have your juice measured, it is time to calculate the other ingredients. Hmm…40 oz egg yolks at .5-.75 oz a piece…great. GET CRACKING!

When all of the ingredients are measured the next step is easy. Everything can be combined in the same pot at this point. It looks like pure liquid, and you know it is supposed to be super thick, almost buttery. With the heat over medium, you whisk as fast as you can to avoid burning. As the minutes pass, you secretly wonder if it will ever thicken. Is it possible that the flour and cornstarch wont work this time? Just when your arm is about to give out, you see a glimmer of hope. Your face is red from standing over the stove for nearly 20-minutes and your eyes have a crazed look from staring into the lemon-curd vortex created from your rapid whisking.

A mad scientist at work.

FINALLY THE EXPERIMENT IS FINISHED! You feel proud. Crazy, but proud. You finish with egg yolks and butter. Cool. Store Clean. And move on to the next task with a numb feeling in your dominate arm.

The Meringue: The meringue is the easiest part of the dessert, yet you dread making it. It is always made-to-order and takes some time to form. You like to have your desserts out to customers as soon as possible and hate the wait. You also realize that someone will inevitably order a tart when you have a dozen other orders on your ticket line and no room on your station to even think about egg whites and sugar.

When the egg whites and sugar are in a happy frenzy in your mixer, you ignore it for a few minutes and let it form. When you return you find that it is less than perfect. It looks like marshmallow fluff. Too soupy for the dessert.

You turn the mixer back on, anxious to finish the dessert and the other tickets in front of you. You hear the ticket machine ring in another dessert…and another…you are in “the weeds”.

Returning to the mixer after tending to the other tickets, you realize that you may have left the mixer on a bit too long now. Just when you thought it was impossible to over-whip meringue, you somehow managed to do so.

Let the meringue settle for a moment and fluff it into a beautiful peak. Torch. Send to the front. Move on to the next ticket.

A day in the life of a Lemon Meringue Tart.

Tart-tastic,

Nora

Yum. I made this pasta on Saturday, and was SO incredibly pleased that I briefly wrote about it in a state of pure satisfaction and bliss.

 Topped with Pecorino Ginepro, Toasted Pine Nuts and Herbs, this was the ULTIMATE refreshing/hearty food for a warm summer night.

I fell in love with white anchovies earlier in the week, and bought about 2 oz from Dean and Deluca. They are tender, salty and acidic. Reserve 1-2 for garnish and chop the rest into oblivion.

I bought spring onion at the Farmer’s Market, chopped it up with garlic and slightly melted it over low heat in some tasty olive oil.

After the onion/garlic/olive oil mix has cooled, combine with the anchovies and the zest and juice of 1 meyer lemon.

Yum.

Mix with herbs (tarragon, parsley and chives finely chopped), chilled pasta (cooked 1-2 minutes shy of cooking time on the box, drained and rinsed with cold water.) and season with salt and black pepper to taste. Mix well to combine, add more olive oil as needed to coat the pasta. Cover and chill in the refrigerator 1-2 hours before serving.

Garnish with pecorino ginepro, toasted pine nuts and more herbs. It’s almost like a make-shift pesto….although after recent events, I might not be making pesto for a while.

Cold, fresh pasta with sauvignon blanc = simple summer satisfaction.

Refreshing,

Nora

Vegetables are sexy.

Baby Purple Carrots are colorful and fun to eat!

My knees go weak and I stop dead in my tracks when I see the bounty and variety of fresh, seasonal produce at the Farmer’s Market. My trips are often centered around the vegetable stand…and it is only second to the bread/baked goods stands (my downfall).

Oyster Mushrooms–Remove petals, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with Ras El Hanout spice. Roast in the oven until just browned. MEATY and delicious!

I sometimes can’t help myself, and come home with armfuls of goodies that I’m not even sure of how or more importantly WHEN I will use. I usually eat at work so I only have 1 or 2 nights a week to make dinner for myself.

Pecorino Ginepro (Juniper)

I had dreams of making a vegetable packed side dish this weekend with my Orecchiette with Fava Leaf & Walnut Pesto until all hell broke loose in my kitchen and a trip to the Emergency Room was in order.

SIDE NOTE: My mom sent me this link yesterday…3-days after my incident Miley Cyrus did the same thing to the SAME finger. I mean, what are the odds?

Fearing vegetable decay in my refrigerator, I made a point to make myself an extra special lunch at home before heading to work. Usually I find myself eating toast, leftovers, spoonfuls of peanut butter, handfuls of candied pistachios, granola bars. etc…basically I snack a lot between breakfast and my early-bird 4pm staff meal at work. But on this special day I shelled fresh fava beans, roasted carrots and oyster mushrooms in Ras El Hanout, washed fava leaves and peeled fresh pecorino cheese.

I simply dressed my salad with olive oil and meyer lemon juice. Served with toasted 9-grain sourdough bread, this was the PERFECT light and fresh lunch.

I loved the combination of nutty fava leaves with the toasted walnuts; salty, flavorful pecorino ginepro, a juniper sheep’s milk cheese; meaty roasted oyster mushrooms and sweet carrots coated in Ras El Hanout that has a distinct savory-cinnamon fragrance. The squeeze of lightly acidic and fruity meyer lemon sealed the deal.

Celebrate The Market,

Nora