"Machete don't text"

¿Ask a Mexican…in Person?



I recently had the great pleasure of sharing lunch with Gustavo Arellano, editor of the OC Weekly who is also the author of two fine books, !ASK A MEXICAN! and TACO USA: HOW MEXICAN FOOD CONQUERED AMERICA. His “Ask a Mexican” column is nationally syndicated thanks to Village Voice Media. This guy is one cool homeboy.
I wanted to meet up with Gustavo because I love his Swiftian sense of self parody---and I mean that as a serious compliment. In his own words to me, “You make an idiot of yourself to make a bigger point”. He does this unflinchingly well.
But apart from the cleverness of his “Ask” column I was impressed with the very serious scholarship that went into TACO USA. And that was the real reason I wanted to meet up with him in person. Unlike Rick Bayless, Gustavo doesn’t have “people”. I simply e-mailed a request for an interview and he answered back, “Sure”!
Gustavo chose the location, Taqueria Zamora in Santa Ana which turned out to be located only a mile from my hotel. It’s in a strip center which shouldn’t scare you away as most of the best ethnic foods in SoCal are located in store fronts like this.
I arrived at Taqueria Zamora a short while ahead of Gustavo. There are two rooms with almost no decor, the one in front being a bit noisy with a juke box and then there is a larger room in back which is more quiet. When I sat down a kid who was about 3’5” tall brought over chips, salsa and a plate of refried beans. Moments later Gustavo arrived and almost the first words out of his mouth were, “this salsa is great!”

Señor Arellano has his MA in Latin American Studies from UCLA but also a BA in film studies from Chapman University. This led to a short digression on to Richard Rodriguez and his unashamed genre films, e.g. “Machete” which both of us admire. As a grad student in American Studies at USC I was following the same scholarly trails in regard to the history of California and the Southwest, combing through the library stacks for primary sources. Gustavo did that same thing for TACO USA. His food scholarship is impeccable.

Back to the food part: when our orders came out Gustavo’s face lit up in something like the ecstasy of Saint Teresa, “THIS is real Mexican food.” His order was tacos asada with a jugo naranja (this guy is a cheap date!). I went with huarache (named for an article of footwear) with lengua. I seldom get to eat cow tongue this good. Over our meals we talked some more about Mexican food and its history in the US.

The burrito plays something of a central role in Cal-Mex cooking. It’s almost metaphorical for everything that’s great about this cuisine. The exact history of the burrito is as difficult to knock down as looking for Jimmy Hoffa. Did it arrive in the 1890’s? or the 1960’s? Certainly it was bracero food in between. For you, my fellow food historians, the menu at El Cholo (1923) in LA lists the dates when certain items entered their kitchen repertoire. While I’ve always associated the burrito with California and Arizona, Gustavo insists that you can get a good burrito in El Paso (a town which he inexplicably loves---hey, I’ve been there). The El Paso burrito is on the small side. No accounting for taste.

Arellano vs the Baylessistas:

In TACO USA Mr. Arellano describes a fund raiser for the California Latino Journalists Association, where the key note speaker was Jonathan Gold who is the only food writer to ever win a Pulitzer. Apparently Gold really lit up Rick Bayless on the subject of “authentic” Mexican cooking in Southern California. As a dutiful journalist Arellano reported this on the OC Weekly blog. Bayless actually read it! But then he’s got people for that. Of course as a serious journalist, Gustavo, after a prickly reply from Señor Rick, tried to follow up and arrange an interview and was shunned like Helen Thomas at a White House press conference. That would be another case of “kill the messenger”.

When describing Mexican food in Los Estados Unidos (“so far from God”) Arellano doesn’t use words like “authentic”, rather he will say “real”. This recognizes the subtle distinctions and changes that occur when people cross borders but still try to keep it real. Cal-Mex is no less “real” than Tex-Mex, just different. “Real” is the sensibility that immigrants carry with them, not the recipe.

Gustavo described to me how things like tamales got bigger when they crossed the border. The same thing happened when Italians arrived on the East Coast. The meatball just got bigger and bigger and bigger. Welcome to “L’America…everything big in America”.

In his acknowledgment page for “Ask…” Gustavo throws a backhander at Orange County as “the most Mexican hating county in the country”. My reply was, “you know I have to disagree with that…”. He instantly said, “Maricopa” which was exactly what I was referring to; as in getting pulled over for driving while Hispanic in Arizona. Gustavo immediately cited the number of the Senate bill, SB1070, which of course was tossed out by the courts. This, after it did huge financial damage to Phoenix in lost convention business and local taxes paid by Latino owned shops in towns like Mesa and Gilbert because everyone ran and hid. Stupid. This is a state which passed a bill establishing the chimichanga (a deep fried burrito) as the official state food. Apparently these so-called lawmakers have a lot of time on their hands.

Gustavo Arellano’s father managed to get past “la migra” and entered the country illegally. G wears that like a chip on his shoulder. He writes affectionately about his mother’s meticulous preparation of menudo, using all four stomachs of your favorite ruminant. My own grandfather was illegal Irish, ran a speakeasy in New York. Unfortunately the Irish haven’t contributed much foodwise although we do make great bartenders. I would love to taste Gustavo’s Mami’s menudo.

If you would like to reenact my lunch with A Mexican go to: http://www.taqueriazamora.net/

And for the more scholarly among you Señor Arellano still occasionally teaches Chicano Studies at Cal State Fullerton. If you enroll now I think you get a sofa for your front yard. Otherwise just read his books which are damn fine, even if for some reason he loves El Paso.

Estrella, Home Town Heroes

A couple of months ago I finished my work shift in Paso Robles at around 3:00 p.m. and strolled over to a local dining establishment to read a newspaper and have a "happy hour" glass of wine. So, I'm sitting at the bar and I look over at the two guys sitting next to me. Both have cooking influenced tattoos on their inside forearms. I can read these symbols like they are the Rosetta Stone.

Well, I had to ask, "Hey guys, I can see from your ink that you are cooks. Where do you work?" As it turned out they both work at Estrella in the downtown food and restaurant hub adjacent to the park. It happens to be my favorite lunch place in town. The guys turned out to be executive chef Ryan Swarthout and pastry chef Mike Learned (not present in the conversation, chef de cuisine Travis Borba).

Ryan described their cooking as "Latin American and Carribean", their ads say "Latin Riviera" and their shop window say's "Spanish Carribbean Argentine". I guess it depends on who you talk to and on what day. I just call it "mighty fine".


Since talking to the lads I've revisited a number of times, dragging friends along who described the food as "spot on".

Most of the menu reads "Mexico" to me. I especially love the "Cemita Poblano" sandwich. But then I'm a porkaholic. But I also really like the grilled scallop ceviche. If you are going for lunch you can figure that most items, tapas in particular, will run from $7.00 to $12.00.

They have a smallish bar with a great staff. The one problem is that to climb into the bar chairs you need an extenstion ladder. And to get out, you need a parachute. They are that high, and no bar rail. But that doesn't deter me, I just do my ninja rope trick.

Terroir...

… in French, literally means “soil”. Today it is nuanced to refer to products of a soil and more specifically those that are unique to a particular regional terroir.

This essay began simply enough but nearly spiraled out of control the more I learned about the person you are about to meet. As a writer sometimes the story finds you.

So, in August of 2012 I visited the annual Paso Robles Olive Festival. If you can get past the craft birdhouses and tarot card readers you can actually meet people who are presenting and actually selling olive products, especially olive oils. I found my way to Olio Nuevo and tasted some samples which I really liked. The guy who was selling at the booth was this very genial man named Art Kishiyama. It turns out he’s also the president of the Central Coast Olive Growers. He’s head of the class and so are his olive oils. I bought a bottle of his Extra Virgin Reserve Blend which Art autographed with a gel pen and a flourish. I’m now beginning to like this guy. I tested his oil at home and really enjoyed its buttery flavor and peppery finish which made it useful for several things.

After that I e-mailed Art and asked if I could possibly come down and visit his ranch off Hwy 41 E and he graciously invited me. He was kind enough to let me spend an entire morning with him. What I wasn’t expecting were the alpacas.

When I arrived Art gave me his brief bio; he attended Cal Poly, enlisted in the Air Force where he advanced to the rank of colonel. After twenty six years of service he became the top exec for the Disney Parks in Japan which pull in 30m visitors per year. Kind of stressful. He and his wife Lynn came back to California and in 2002 purchased their estate in Paso Robles. He began raising llamas and alpacas but eventually began planting olives. The alpacas with Italian names like Tintoretto and Valentino are still there.


After visiting with the Italians Art walked me over to his “terroir”, the ten acres where he has planted mission, manzanillo and arbequina olives. His groves slope steeply 75 feet from the top rows to the bottom ones. This affects temperature as much as 10°F. Also the soil composition seems to be different on the west side of his ranch than on the east side. All of which means the grower has to be nimble in addressing these issues. Art doesn’t use mechanical harvesting tools. Instead he goes out and tapes off the areas which he wants his guys to pick based on ripeness. This is all done by hand. After the olives are picked they are trucked a short way down the road to be pressed.


Art bottles, labels and ships 7,000 bottles all by himself. Really. Mr. Kishiyama is justly proud of the awards his oils have won. His Estate Arbequina got him a Gold Medal at the Los Angeles International Olive Oil Competition 2012. He won Best in Class with his Reserve Blend at the Napa County Fair.

Afterward we went inside out of the heat and discussed what it means for an oil to really qualify as “extra virgin”. The key factors are taste and acidity. The International Olive Council (IOC) requires no more than .8% acidity in order to be certified. The United States is not a member of IOC so USDA handles the job. In 2010 they adopted standards close to those of IOC. Up until then they were using standards dating back to 1948 that were almost laughable. In fact they were more like those used for grading meat. The California Olive Oil Council (COOC) has standards that are even stricter requiring no more than .5% acidity. One of the most important retailers of olive oils in California (and I’m not talking about Trader Joe’s) won’t stock California oils that haven’t been properly certified by the lab. It’s not enough for the grower to say “I know it is extra virgin because I made it.” Nope. “Because I said so” just doesn’t cut it. For the record Mr. Kishiyama’s olive oils are COOC certified extra virgin. Anyway that’s enough acronyms for one paragraph.

Well, we shook hands and I drove off back to my office. However in the course of fact checking my story I could see that I needed to e-mail Mr. Kishiyama with some additional questions, and this is where I was thrown back a few paces. I learned some biographical things that you won’t find on his website. I rather naively asked Art if he was familiar with the Japan American National Museum in Los Angeles (I’m asking this of a very well traveled gentleman, but then you don’t know until you ask). This is one of the most beautiful museum spaces in LA, and Art has had his parents' names etched into the walls there.


Next follow up naïve question, “were your parents interned during the war?” Now I get blown back about twenty yards. During the war the L.A. County Fairgrounds in Pomona, beginning in May of 1942, were used as an "assembly center" for the internment camps. Art Kishiyama was the first baby born there. The center was closed a few months later and Art's family (along with about 5,000 other souls) was moved from Pomona to Heart Mountain in Wyoming where his brother was born. After the camps the family moved to Ogden, Utah and another brother was born. All three brothers served in different branches of the service. All were officers of rank. Now I must conclude this with Art’s own words: “My parents had a son in Vietnam almost continuously for over 3 years. Despite being interned for 3 years during the War, they never stopped being Americans – and that’s the way they raised their sons.” And this to me is what terroir means.


For more information on Olio Nuevo and where you can buy it go to www.olionuevo.com and for those Italian alpacas, www.alpacasofcripplecreek.com


Recipe suggestion:

Curried Charentais Melon Gazpacho


During the long hot summer, among the things I’m always trying to reinvent are cold soups. I wait and wait for delicious charentais melons to arrive, and now they are here (as of this writing). These melons belong to the cantaloupe family. When properly ripe they will perfume your whole house.* This is the sweetest, most desirable melon there is. Here I’ve turned it into an easy gazpacho style cold soup with the addition of a bit of curry. The two balance out perfectly. This is a tomato-less soup modeled on the original Spanish “white gazpacho” which predates the tomato version.

Ingredients:


1 charentais melon, about 2 ½ pounds (or substitute cantaloupe or other sweet, orange/yellow fleshed melon)

2 slices day old white bread crusts removed

Slivered almonds, about 1 ounce

1 ½ tsp really good curry powder (or more to taste)

A splash of good Spanish sherry vinegar

¼ cup Olio Nuevo™ Extra Virgin Reserve Blend olive oil

2 Tbs cilantro chopped

1 lime

Sea salt

Instructions:


Slice your lovely melon in half. Scoop out the seeds. With your very sharp knife remove the outer hull. Cube the melon flesh into cubes (or pretend cubes) of about 2 inches.


Juice the lime and squeeze over the melon and let it rest while you go to work.
Meanwhile give the stale bread a light soak of water (preferably organic and gluten free from Portland) and then tear it up into pieces.


Heat up a dry skillet and lightly toast the almonds. Don’t let them burn. Set aside.


Place all of the ingredients into a powerful, variable speed blender. Not the wimp ass one you mix Jagermeister Red Bull margaritas in. Begin by pulsing a few times and then crank up the speed to full on liquefy. It’s fun to watch that vortex form in the center.

Strain (with a coarse mesh strainer) into a bowl (if you like you can skip this step, sometimes I do) and refrigerate for at least one to two hours. The purpose of the straining step is to remove any seeds and give you a smooth texture but there is something to be said for a little mouth feel here, I’m now convinced.


*Note to cook; when purchasing a good melon, like a charentais, don’t squeeze it. Sniff the cut blossom end.

Address to a Salame

The art and craft of salumi goes back to the Romans and Greeks; essentially stuffing animal parts into the animal's own guts. Robert Burns wrote a famous poem, "Address to a Haggis": But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread. Clap in his walie nieve a blade, He'll make it whissle I was thinking of trying to translate that from Scots into Italian but not right now. Haggis actually is a sausage; a lamb's stomach stuffed with things like lamb's "lights" and oats and so on. Actually it's damn good if you are adventurous. Andrew Zimmern could probably consume three. It's grand to see the rise of the Italian style artisan salumeria on the West Coast: Armandino Batali (Mario's dad) has Salumi in Seattle, Chris Cosentino owns Boccalone in San Francisco, Paul Bertolli, formerly of Oliveto, has Fra' Mani. All making wonderful products. A comparative newcomer is Alle-Pia out of Atascadero, CA. Originally they were known as Allesina but are transitioning out of that name because of trademark issues. The owner of this family business is Antonio Varia who owns the Buona Tavola restaurants in San Luis Obispo and Paso Robles. His nephew, my friend Alex Pellini, manages the plant. Recently I dropped down to get a quick tour of the facility. Here you can see some happy sausage makers at work:

Right now Alle-Pia is producing six types of dry cured salumi as well as some fresh ones. I really like the Tartuffo with truffles. Their products are available from the San Francisco Bay Area to San Diego. To find out where you can buy them go to www.allesinasalami.com. Good stuff!

The Tin Tin Salad

Two weeks ago I read the latest Food52 challenge: canned seafood. Good! I love this stuff. So here is what I submitted.

The Tin Tin Tiffin Salade Niçoise

In a strange way this is tuna tinned twice. A tiffin walla is an Indian lunch pail, great for compartmentalizing things for your middle of the day meal. However this salad is totally French. One of the trends of the past ten or twelve years was for restaurants to serve Salad Niçoise with seared ahi tuna, which is an absolute affront to its history. This is a lunch to be carried to work or into the field and canned tuna is absolutely essential to its character. I once listened to Colman Andrews rant on this subject but I’m not going there. This is delicious on its own without some sissified New York City ahi version. Okay, sorry, I went there. Ingredients are per portion so multiply as needed.

Ingredients:

Field greens. Don’t have a field? Well then grab an assortment of lettuces such as romaine and other colorful ones at the market. Maybe some cress. That’s up to you.

1 3.5 ounce tin of olive oil packed tuna. We really like Ortiz and As Do Mar.*

2 to 4 of your best anchovies. If you happen to have boquerones well, ooh la la.

3 or 4 small white potatoes, like creamers

A fistful of haricots vertes, that’s green beans to you buddy

3 or 4 fat radishes

1 hard cooked egg

4 or 5 luques olives or pichioline (or whatever you like; Tin Tin likes luques)

Fresh tarragon, chopped

For the dressing 2 parts best olive oil (we recommend California Olive Ranch), 1 part white wine vinegar, 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard.

Sea salt and ground pepper

Instructions:

Rinse the greens

Simmer the potatoes in salted water until tender and then slice in half.

Simmer the green beans until tender and then shock in a cold water bath. That sets the color. For convenience you can use the same water you cooked the potatoes in.

Thinly slice the radishes

Chop the tarragon and whisk into the dressing

Open the can of tuna (don’t cut yourself)

Assemble with greens on the bottom, followed by potatoes, radish, haricots, tuna, anchovies, egg and olives. Season with salt and pepper.

Finish with the dressing. If you are actually taking this out into the field or your cubicle you can hold this back in a separate container within your tiffin. E voila!

*Note to cook; the quality of the tuna and anchovies really matters. High quality canned tuna can excite your imagination but it can also be really expensive, although less expensive than that seared ahi on your faux Salade Niçoise

Walnuts and Sage

So, I was challenged with this theme by some devious friends and after thinking it over here's the recipe I came up with:

Don’t Call It BROOSHETTA!!! (Bruschetta with fromage blanc, pear, walnuts and sage)
“Bruschetta” (hard ch in Italian) loosely translated means “something burned”. In this case it is bread that has been grilled and scorched. It’s the big brother of the crostini. You can use a ridged grill pan or better still, an outdoor wood fired grill, such as your Weber.
The topping for this bruschetta is easy to make. While I would like to use a stracchino cheese for this, unless you live close to DiPalo in Incredible Shrinking Little Itay or Batali’s Eataly it’s going to be hard to find because it doesn’t travel well. So I’m using fromage blanc but you might substitute a farmer’s cheese. Stracchino, a cheese from Lombardia, gets its name from supposedly tired cows coming down from Alpine pasture lands.
Ingredients:
5 to 6 thick slices of country style bread or boule, each slice halved
1 bunch fresh sage
8 ounces fromage blanc or farmers cheese
½ cup walnut pieces, broken up
1 ripe comice pear or other pear of your choice (peeled and cored)
2 tablespoons butter
Wondra
Instructions:
In a dry pan toast your walnut pieces and set aside.
Cut up your pear into small dice.
Turn out your cheese into a medium sized bowl and work in the pears and walnuts with a fork.
Separate out between 10 to 12 sage leaves* and spread them on a plate or pan so that you can dust them lightly with the Wondra flour.
In a skillet lightly brown your better (beurre noir).
Fry the sage leaves until slightly crisp and lay them out on paper towel.
Heat up a ridged grill pan (dry).** When it’s hot, grill and turn the bread once on each side so that it’s toasted and burn marks show.
As the slices come off lay one or two sage leaves on each followed by a smear of cheese mixture while the bread is still warm.
*Note to cook; if your sage leaves are small you might want to add two or more to each slice. The idea is to deliver a little surprise note of herb to the bite.
** Better still if weather permits, fire up a wood grill using lump charcoal for more flavor. Do NOT use briquettes or your bread will taste lake motor oil.

Holy Smoke

Holy Smoke Grill roasted Santa Maria Tri Tip
When you cook this your neighbors might think the college of cardinals have selected a new Pope because white smoke will be wafting over the hood. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah! This is a California Central Coast specialty. If you are driving from Ventura County to the top of San Luis Obispo County you’ll see these medieval looking grill rigs set up in farmers markets, liquor store parking lots and many other places off Hwy 101. If you smell smoldering oak in the air someone is probably grilling tri tip nearby.
The seasonings here are mostly traditional, primarily salt and pepper. But I like to add a little more spice to it in the form of good Spanish pimenton. You can buy some pretty okay commercial rubs but they do contain things like “flowing agents” which don’t improve the flavor.
Two untraditional things I do are to use an internal brine, and then to serve it up with an Argentine Chimichurri sauce on the side. The brine idea I picked up from butcher Tom Mylan as described in the book PRIMAL CUTS by Marissa Guggiana. He uses an internal brine for prime rib. I’ve used it for that with great success and thought that tri tip was the next outrage I could pull off and indeed it worked. You will, however, need an injector for this but they are cheap. The meat remains moist while you still get that kind of burnt crusty exterior that we love here.
The other untraditional aspect to this yippee-ay-o classic is chimichurri. The Argentines are the masters of the grill and I bow down to them (but only so far) and their chimichurri goes so well with grilled meat that I resort to it all the time as a homemade table condiment.
Ingredients:
Wood. Like real oak or else oak lump charcoal. If you resort to briquettes you are a total weenie and have no business getting anywhere near a real grilling station, anywhere ever.
3 ½ pounds tri tip, intact
1 cup water
¼ cup sea salt for the brine, plus ¼ cup additional for the rub
1 tablespoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon Spanish pimenton de la vera or piment d’Esplette
For the chimichurri
1 bunch parsley
½ of one bunch cilantro
8 to 10 cloves of garlic, chopped
½ cup good extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon (or so) white vinegar
Large pinch of salt
Instructions:
One day ahead of cooking prepare the brine by bringing water to a boil and dissolving the sea salt into it. It may not dissolve completely but don’t worry about that part. Using your Frankenstein like injector squirt a good shot into the thickest part of the meat. Wrap it and refrigerate overnight.
Make the chimichurri ahead so that it’s there and finished when you need it
Stem and chop the parsley and cilantro
Combine the parsley and cilantro into the bowl of a food processor with the other ingredients except for the olive oil. Pulse a couple of times. Then with the motor running on low gradually drizzle in the olive oil. Let it rest.
Start your fire, preferably using the chimney method
In a pie pan or something similar mix up the ingredients for the rub; the remaining salt, the pepper and the pimenton. Rub all over the tri tip and don’t skimp on the salt part.
When your fire is hot enough grill the meat, turning only once*, until it hits an internal temperature of 130F. Take it off and transfer to a platter and let it rest covered in foil for ten minutes.
Carve and serve along with the chimi as a condiment.
*Note to cooks; it drives me ‘effing nuts to watch amateur patio daddy-o’s constantly flipping steaks and burgers. It only slows down the cooking process to where you just end up with road kill. My own dad was a master at that.

Bikini Girls With Machine Guns

Sometimes I find good things by chance---it's maybe my restaurant radar.For about 25 years I lived in Hermosa Beach and the closest town to the south was Redondo. And for some weird reason I will always associate Redondo Beach with the Patti Smith song. Anyway, in a week of utter futility (not going into details) I was encamped in a hotel on PCH. First night of arrival I was absolutely dead tired and looking for a place to eat. Normally LA/CalMex bores the hell out of me but the closest place for anything was Ortega 120, a half block away. So, I entered and found this groovy restaurant bar and dining room decked out in post-punk and Mexican kitsch decor---you know, like skulls and stuff. As it turned out the food was really good. So good that I came back two nights later.

Apparently this restaurant is renowned for its tequila and margerita drinks, but as I drink neither I wouldn't know. But the food was damn good. On my first night I ordered carnitas enchiladas in a chile verde sauce. Two nights later I came back for the chile rellenos. Also really, really good. For some reason New York hasn't figured out Mexican yet, although Chicago has.

And here I have to ad lib that Arizona has made the chimichanga its official state food. If there is a more podunk state in the lower 48 I don't know which it could be. At least in the deep south they know how to cook. For the uninitiated, a chimichanga is basically a deep fried burrito.

On my final night in Redondo I crossed the border into Torrance in search of something Korean. The South Bay is blessed with wonderful Asian restaurants, most of which are located in strip centers, which never discourages me. So I found Yang San Park on Hawthorne Blvd and was in no way disappointed. I ordered a hearty kimchi pork stew, which of course came with six plates of other stuff. It was wonderful.

So if you are in the South Bay I'd give both of these places a nod.

Buffalo Frog Wings

Through the Food Buzz “Tastemaker” program I received a sample of the new KC Masterpiece “Buffalo” marinade. As I’m a big fan of their products I was trying to think of something new and weird to do with it. About a year ago I was dining in one of my favorite restaurants, now defunct and ordered up a plate of these delicious frog legs that were prepped in such a way that they formed into what I refer to as frogsicle pops. So, I’ve recreated something close to that here but cranking it up a bit.

Ingredients:
12 frog legs
3/4 cup KC Masterpiece “Buffalo Marinade”
¼ cup superfine flour such as Wondra
½ cup panko style bread crumbs
4 tablespoons butter, clarified
Canola or grapeseed oil for frying
Hot sauce of your choosing; I like Crystal
Blue cheese or ranch dressing (cold) to accompany along with a relish tray of carrots, celery and radish.

Instructions:
This is the tricky step; using a very sharp knife cut into the tendons and trim off the meat along the lower portion of the leg. There’s not much. This is called “frenching”. What this will do is cause the meat, when it’s sizzling hot, to ball up like a lolly-pop.
In a wide flat Pyrex tray pour the buffalo marinade, add the frog legs. Make sure they are well coated. Cover the tray with cling wrap and allow to rest refrigerated for 30 minutes to one hour. Turn once or more during that time period.
When you are ready to cook heat up the oil in a deep dutch oven or fryolater. It should be at least 375F.
While the oil is heating dredge the “wings” in Wondra followed by panko. One by one drop them into the hot oil. DISCARD the marinade.
When the wings are sizzling hot remove them and place on a rack to drain.
Heat up the clarified butter in a sauté pan. Add the wings and season to taste with hot sauce---keep at hand at the table. Serve immediately with your condiments.

Crazy, Silly, Happy

Because I spend a lot of time traveling I frequently make startling discoveries in unlikely places, like say, Irvine, CA. I've now been back to the Diamond Jamboree shopping center about 10 or 12 times and it still knocks me out with its crazy Asian vibe. I love it. I adore it. It's located at Alton Parkway and Jamboree although it's easier to enter from the Von Karman side. If you are flying into John Wayne it's only a short detour from Hotel Terrace (Dyer Rd at 55).

You can find a fantastic Korean grocery in HMart, a dim sum parlour at Capital Seafood, a noodle shop at Ajisen (see photo, that's where that crazy, transgendered version of Bob's Big Boy greets you) and especially a totally amazing bakery, 85° C (as in centigrade). The latter always has a long line running out the door. Once you figure out the system, you get in line to get enter, grab a tray and some tongs, pick out pastries that will make you swoon, and get in another line to pay for them.

Each time I go back to Diamond Jamboree it becomes a new, exciting experience. A few nights ago I was dining at the bar at Tokyo Table and two Asian-American guys working in commercial real estate sat down next to me. Great dinner company. One, Tony, gave me a long list of places to dine in Orange County. They also insisted on sharing their sake with me. Did I say I love this place? I can't wait to return because I always discover something new.

March as I Left It

April is not the cruelest month, it's really March. Ask Caesar. We spent most of March traveling to places you don't want to visit. With a mouth full of rocks (Foreign Legion term)we set out for Arizona. Our trip was bookended by airports bearing the names of right wing icons; out of John Wayne into Barry Goldwater and back again.

Before departure left car with sister and had dinner at Lucca in Irvine which was actually really good. Armandino Batali salumi with La Quercia prosciutto. Lucca is located in a shopping center in Irvine. Given that Irvine has no real city center that's not surprising.

In the morning Pierino was off to AZ. Picked up a Nissan something or other from Hertz and drove straight to Tucson. Dinner at Sullivan's was not so bad. No complaints---yet. Late Monday it was back to Phoenix, the Vortex of Evil. We camped out in Chandler, a hotel in an office park with nothing but chain restaurants in the vicinity. So we set off to a restaurant which we've blogged before, Anise. To our shock and horror it was closed. Another victim of Maricopa County's bizarre politics. This state is populated by anti-immigrant know-nothings who control the state legislature. When they're not smashing their cars into each other they're passing laws establishing an official state gun!

During a week of seriously bad meals we enjoyed lunch with a very dear friend who owns a bookstore in Tempe. She'd spent the morning with a "legislator" pushing for the state to collect sales tax on on-line purchases. These libertarian chuckleheads don't get the fact that it might bring in $65million in revenue to a state with more than 14% unemployment and massive debt. Meanwhile the governor is spreading urban legends about headless bodies in the desert and their convention business has all but disappeared thanks to stupid anti-immigrant laws.

Pierino got serious sticker shock upon returning his Nissan Whatever. We had a decent weekly rate from Hertz but there was an additional 50% in taxes and surcharges on top of the base rate!! Checked with Hertz and only one of the charges was their's and it was fairly minimal. Everything else was Maricopa/Arizona surcharge and then tax on the surcharges. Why is the state losing tourists and conventions? Because they are IGNORANT HOE HANDLES that's why. And they balance it out with bigotry and patriotism.

Upon return to Los Angeles Pierino was able to meet his good friend Kim, author and editor, and escort her to dinner for her birthday weekend. Kim had the misfortune of spending her birthday in Anaheim for work reasons. Despite what the sign say's, it's not the happiest place on earth. So, off to AOC for appetizers and then an unbelievable dinner at Providence. Problem was both of us wanted to order the same things. There were two indecently delicious amuse-bouches course which we can barely begin to describe. One was a "Screwdriver Bubble" which looked like a raw egg. There's your molecular gastronomy in action. Kim and Pierino both chose the Chitarra Pasta with Sea Urchin which was heartstopping. And after, they brought out a little birthday offering for Kim. Michael Cimarusti of Providence is up for a Beard award for Best Chef, Pacific.

Pierino returned to Paso Robles long enough to prepare St. Patrick's Dinner for the Oak Creek Commons commoners. Pierino cast it as French Patrick's Day; vaguely Irish dishes with a serious French twist.

Barely up for air, we swam (almost literally) back south. Worst rain on Hwy 101 that we've seen in twelve years, at least. More cars smashing into each other or into inanimate objects. A sporty looking car that had zipped by us wound up crunched against the median a few miles ahead.

Closed the month with a visit to our tax guy. After that, we had to indulge in a couple of glasses of pastis and a meal cooked with friends. Our appetizer course turned out well; "The Red and the Black"(pictured). This was roasted red pepper stuffed with black quinoa and aioli as a condiment.

And then it was April...

The Passenger in Chelsea

Tree lighting week in Manhattan. A week we would avoid if we didn't have to visit there for work. Pierino has booked a nice hotel room down in Chelsea for four nights. Our flight is delayed by an hour and half. However our bag is wheeled out first with a thank you note from TSA inside. Then we are whisked into Manhattan by a driver from Coughingstan. Must be why we came home sick.

Midnight arrival at our corner, 8th Avenue and 22nd. The sign reads GEM Hotel except that it's anchored above a vacant retail space. Fortunately the hotel itself was actually one door away on 22nd. Boutique hotel room in the "Ascend" collection. You don't ascend very far because it's only five stories. Our small room with European style fittings has a view of the Empire State Building with the Hanukkah lights on.

Sunday we sleep. Meet a colleague for lunch at Katz's Deli for Matzoh Ball soup. By evening it's beginning to get really cold. So around 5:00 Pierino heads out the door toward a restaurant over on 7th Avenue. But on the chilly walk he notices a small restuarant at the corner of 8th and 20th, Le Trois Canards which sounds vaguely familiar. It was familiar because it had recently moved to this location from a few blocks away, one in which we had dropped in before way back when. We figured we'd check out the menu. Unfortunately the door was locked. But suddenly we were admitted by the lovely Samira who it turns out would be working all stations including the bar in the tiny dining room. As usual we order a glass of wine at the bar and see that the menu is perfect for a cold, winter night. Forget 7th Avenue!

First course, steaming garlicky escargots in their own natural shells so that you have to use those clamp thingies to pry them out. This was followed by a delicious tarte au cepes, spilling out good stuff including escarole. Pierino is a happy man especially after chatting with Samira, international woman of mystery. Before we leave Samira smuggles some extra biscotti out of the kitchen, which he sticks in his pockets along with the remaining half bottle of sparkling water. Unfortunately (not so really unfortunate, in the end), at about 2:00 a.m. Pierino wakes up realizing that he has left his bag hanging on the back of his chair. And he has an early train to White Plains in the morning.

So, after an 8:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. schedule of trains and meetings we go back to Le Trois Canards to retrieve our stuff. Once again greeted at the door by Samira. So we hang out for another glass of wine until they are ready to lock the doors. We discuss the films of Pontecorvo (The Battle of Algiers)and Fellini (La Dolce Vita)and then adieu.

And it's still stinking cold.

On our last night in Manhattan where else would we go? Doh! Back to Trois Canards. It's only two blocks away. This time we ordered their superb Onion Soup Gratinee. Now that will warm your bones when it's 18F outside. Au revoir Samira. Until the next visit.

I am the Passenger

"I am the Passenger I ride and I ride..." ...and I ride and I fly and I drive... "And everything looks good tonight, Everything was made for you and me..."And I ride and I fly and I drive "And everything looks good tonight..."

And I meet interesting people in train stations and airport lounges and most often restaurant bars where I arrive by my ownself with a book. Over four days in New York I met a choral student from Beijing, two antique dealers, and a beautiful restaurant server with a fascinating personal history: Moroccan/Algerian; grew up in Alsace. Her Moroccan father was recruited into the French Army and covertly assisted the Algerian rebels and had to sneak out of Algeria in 1962, escaped to France and raised his family. Meanwhile, observed in flight; a middle-aged Indian woman in an opposite seat playing a video game on an IPad which seemed to involve shooting down birds flying past, as well as blowing up buildings. I don't make this stuff up

AZ: The Good, The Very Bad, and the Horribly Ugly

I try to find something good everywhere I travel. Usually I succeed. In this case, I was bunkered in Chandler, AZ and with a little research turned up Anise, a Vietnamese restaurant on Dobson. Located in a strip mall (yeah, please name a Vietnamese restaurant in the western US that isn't), they ought to be a destination for anyone (like Pierino) stuck down there. The food is great. The charming Kim and Anne work the front of the house and will even order for you if you ask their advice. We went with that plan on our second visit. They make lovely, clear broths, which I think is the toughest to get right. Combined with crab meat, well...

Not everything in AZ is so charming right now. I happened to be there on the day that the district court blocked most of SB 1070. Now, could I just say that immigrant labor is the backbone of the restaurant and hotel industry in the state as well as most of North America with the exception of Guam and the Palin Territories. These people risk death walking through the desert just to wash dishes, cook and change the sheets in your hotel room. And you want to keep 'em out? Tell me why!

I was listening to KJZZ (an NPR affiliate) at the time that the decision came down. This was a local show with AZ callers (please remember that these people don't know that you are supposed to stop for red lights). Of course they were all offended and predicted that this will lead to a Republican sweep in November. They could be right. But what these morons won't accept is that the most conservative Supreme Court in 40 years will uphold the distict and circuit court decisions. Including Chief Justice Roberts? And then, what's your come back?

I heard one woman caller on KJZZ say, "when was the last time you saw an American [aka white] teenager working at a McDonald's?" How about they're too effing lazy to apply! Do you really think that Effing Ronald McDonald discriminates against white American teens? Shit, they grew up on Happy Meals, but it doesn't mean they want to work there. But these same idiots are also opposed to raising the minimum wage. You can't have it both ways.

And now for the decidedly ugly. I checked out of my hotel and was en route to the airport thinking that I had missed, for once, what is an all too familiar sight on Arizona roadways. That would be the ghastly car crash. Well, I didn't have to travel very far on 10 North to see the signs that access to I17 was closed. When I got there I could see why: in the connector lane a pickup was flipped over with the cab crushed. This happened to be a rainy morning. There are worse things than missing your off ramp. But hey, people in AZ will risk death to do that. And their thing about red lights? It means "Stop" not "speed up!"

One Buck Shuck

I spent one night in "Sideways" country this past week on my way up the road to my new home further up the coast. During that stay I paid my third visit to "Root 246", Bradley Ogden's restaurant in the Hotel Corque in Solvang. And Chef Bradley, as widely rumoured, was in fact in the house. They offer a great deal on oysters. $1.00 for one Kumamoto. After that a caesar salad with a perfectly poached egg. That's spelled, MIGHTY FINE.

Chicago, Doh!

Do you remember when there were only six teams in the NHL? I do. Pierino stopped being a Kings' fan when they changed their sweaters which then became gang colors. But going back to the old time days, we are a serious fan of the Chicago Blackhawks, so part of one day was used up just grabbing Hawks' swag.

I could be wrong but was this relief on the Michigan Avenue bridge sculpted to commemorate the B'hawks victory over Vancouver to advance to the conference finals?

Chicago, Oink!

Could I just say again that I love Chicago. The City of Big Shoulders, Broad Bellies and Hog Butcher to the Nation. Pierino had scarcely two nights in town but departed well fed and happy.
After escaping from the boondocks of Naperville we hit the city and Michigan Avenue. Listening to bar chat at the Inn of Chicago (hotel)we heard about The Purple Pig, just two blocks away, almost opposite the Tribune Building. Some fast in room research and we were on our way. Anyplace that promotes "Cheese, Swine & Wine" is fine with Pierino. Preaching to the choir here.

The first night we supped on marinated olives, fava beans with an egg salad, and pig tails braised in balsamic. Could we have more pig please?

This was so good that we had to return the next day for lunch. Pierino really wanted to sample the "smears", and in our case this turned out to be the pork neck rillettes with mostarda. The rillette was absurdly good with burnt, crusty bruschetta slices of bread (is that redundant?). The mostarda though, was sort of wimpola. It was almost like a compote of fig and raisin with little of the curried kick that the real thing should deliver. Nevertheless, we loved that rillette.

One of Pierino's friends keeps bugging him to go to Avec, which he seriously wanted to try. It might help if you came along, Kim. No time on this trip, though. But I'll be back. You can bet on it.

Oh, hi!

Recently I had the pleasure of cooking for some good friends up in Ojai, CA at "Piazza dell' Thatcher". The principal course turned out to be a paella made with fresh sea scallops from Alaska (thank you, Michael), fresh asparagus, and smoked Italian peppers along with the mandatory bomba rice, saffron and pimenton. As an appetizer, equaliser, I stole an idea from a chef friend. I bought some cerignola olives (big fat ones)and tossed them some maracona almonds and olive oil, along with some slivers of garlic. See the video clip. I plated this with some white "boquerones" around the platter. The boquerones are white anchovies in vinegar and oil and are guaranteed to convert to convert anchovy haters. Let's just say that there weren't any left on the serving platter when I returned from the kitchen. Chef Amber, I owe you one.

Cooks Illustrated v food52; The Thrilla in Nutella

The food52 crowd was handed a throwdown by Cooks Illustrated: lab rats versus home cooks. Sweet. Mr Bowtie and starched apron, Chris Kimball at first tried to back out but got shamed into going through with it. Categories are "roast pork shoulder" and "sugar cookies". We'll kick butt (which in the language of pork is actually the shoulder---don't ask me why), and of course yours truly has entered with "Porchetta Pierino". Read all about it at www.food52.com By all means log in and comment. In the end this will all be decided by popular vote.

For those of you unfamiliar with Cooks Illustrated magazine, the whole format is to produce the "best" this or that. The flaw in that thinking is that your kitchen isn't the same as mine. Your oven could be calibrated 25 degrees hotter or less warm, your knife may not be as sharp, and maybe you are buying your "fresh" fish from the supermarket. Other than that the magazine is useful for showing you ways to multi-task your meat pounder. Doink!

The Dead Zona

It's flat out effing scary in Arizona. A week back I was looking at the remnants of the umpteenth catastrophic car crash from my hotel window. They seem to lack three things in Arizona. Those would be red light recognition, brakes, and state funded rest stops. The latter is the newest ingredient in their particular and perverse fusion bomb.

So Pierino was encamped in Chandler (it works for business reasons). In Chandler dining establishments have names like "My Big Fat Greek Restaurant". Catch my drift? We could have done better by driving into the city where there are some good places, like Pizzeria Bianco but we finished each day too tired and too scared to travel more than a mile.

One find though was Durant's on Central Avenue in Phoenix. Pierino loves old school restaurant/bars even though he only drinks club soda in the daytime. We are used to dark bars, but this is really, really dark (hence the jittery lightscape in the image). So dark we could barely read the menu let alone our book. Opened in 1950, Durant's has that red velvet wall and banquette charm. We love these places. Phoenix now has light rail running down Central Avenue which solves to a degree the red light issue. The metro stops almost outside Durant's door at 2611 North Central. So we enjoyed a capable tuna salad with our obligatory club soda and squinted into the sunlight in the aftermath. For the record, the Pink Pony in Scottsdale is now closed.

We also visited our favorite bookstore in AZ. That would be Changing Hands in Tempe at Guadalupe and McClintock. We lunched with owner Gayle Shanks at Windy City Cafe and enjoyed real Chicago hot dogs. I mean these are authentic, dragged through the garden, right down to the poppy seed buns and bright green relish. If you've been to Chicago you know what I'm talking about. So if you visit Tempe be sure to buy a book at Changing Hands and a hot dog at Windy City, 1815 East Elliot Rd. Just don't drive through the yellow tape.