I Need to Write This Down

Yeah yeah, I know. I haven't been around for a while. You're mad at me because I didn't write about the Cherry cheesecake, degustation day, dinner at Komi or Mesa Grill, brunch at Perilla, gooseberry gastriques, braised goat shoulder, the jalapeno ceviche, the wasabi crusted rack of lamb, the roasted pork tenderloin with the pomegranate and ancho chili glaze, the failed attempt at cooking veal en papilotte, the bacon dinner (yes, three courses, all with bacon, finishing with the club souffle), or the schezuan grilled kabobs.

But this post isn't about any of those things. This post is about the spice rub I put on some pan seared swordfish tonight. And making sure I remember it forever.

Garam Masala
Coriander
Cayenne
Ginger
Cinnamon
Ground Mustard
Chili powder
Paprika
Ground Cloves
Cumin
Garlic
Paprika
Smoked Paprika
Salt
Black Pepper

That's all. I'll be back soon. I hope.

The Best Meal I've Ever Cooked: Part Two

This time, minus the bitterness at NBC. Because they were nice enough to start running new episodes of Scrubs again, thus making my Thursday nights a little bit more complete.

If you haven't yet, check out my account of the first part of the meal, and also Alyse's recap, which gives detail by delicious detail. (Also, shout out to Alyse, who is now PUBLISHED!)

So when I last left you, we had finished an amuse bouche and the first set of courses. Next up was the main course. The first was a white truffle shrimp fondue with an herb risotto. This one, I must admit, was not an original. It came straight from Rocco DiSpirito's Flavor, which has been my most reliable source for recipes that are so good they don't need to be altered at all. In fact, the recipe is right here, in its totality. Here's my presentation:



So I can only take credit for the execution, but not the concept of the combination of the truffle, risotto, fresh herbs, shrimp, and perfectly seasoned tomato fondue. But the second of the two main courses was a horseradish crusted rack of lamb that has shown some development in the very pages of this blog. The pairing of a horseradish crust with the robust flavor of a perfectly medium rare prime rib gave me the idea to try it with lamb. The cherry gastrique was on the money the first time, but I wanted to make sure to season the lamb a bit more this time around--thus, a dry rub of fresh cumin, coriander, kosher salt, paprika, cayenne, and black pepper. I also knew I wanted to lighten up the dish as a whole; a contrast of baby arugula tossed in lemon juice and black pepper would give the dish a fresh, bitter element. And finally, I added the sauteed langoustines to give a sweet, exotic flavor. A treat, if you will, for a bunch of people that had probably never had langoustines. That being said--not really an essential part of the dish. Also, what is it about hipsters and pictures of food? Scott managed to take a better picture of this dish than any I've taken of my food over the course of the last year. Clearly I need a new strategy. Observe.

Scott:


Me:


And finally, what would a good meal be without dessert? I decided to pair up some puff pastry (profiteroles, if you're french or pretentious) with coffee ice cream and a bailey's irish cream chocolate sauce. I love the idea of mixing traditional after dinner drinks (bailey's and coffee) with traditional after dinner desserts (ice cream, chocolate, and puff pastry). Warm and cold, rich and fresh, it couldn't have turned out better.


And remember that failed pineapple creme brulee from a few weeks back? I decided to ignore the cookbooks and cook it until I felt like it was done. The end result? Perfection. And brulee torches are still awesome.


Thanks to everyone for coming and making this a fantastic success! I may just try this idea again one day after all....

The Best Meal I've Ever Cooked: Part 1 or "Screw you, NBC, I didn't want to be on your show anyway"

Three loads in the dishwasher and I'm STILL not done cleaning from Sunday night. Such is the result of Restaurant Weekend, a three-day cooking extravaganza that started with a stock and finished with a blow torch at the dinner table.

How does life get any better than this?

6 different dish options plus an amuse bouche--not to mention the fact that each of these were among the most complicated dishes I've ever attempted. 6 guests, plus me and the indispensable Alyse.

Twice. Welcome to Restaurant Weekend.

Alyse beat me to the punch on the full recap of the process behind each of the dishes, so I'll refer you to her most thorough of descriptions for the nitty gritty. She My post will focus instead on the inspiration behind each dish. Because for me, Restaurant Weekend started long before I actually got to work on each dish. The menu was the result of literally weeks of brainstorming, influence from existing recipes, experimentation, and a search for balance. And so we come to the menu.

First up was the amuse bouche. Alyse hit this nail on the head--my idea for the whole meal was a meal of contrasts in texture, flavor, nature. And the amuse bouche was to be that idea condensed into a couple of bites. I have to admit, I had never prepared nor eaten foie gras, so this recipe was a bit blind going in. I knew only that it was supposed to have the richness of the bone marrow I tried a few months ago. So I wanted a thick, crispy bread...almost like an oversized crouton...to balance the creaminess of the foie gras. To balance the richness, a fresh grape chutney of quartered white and red grapes, mustard seed, veal stock, port, and red onion. And to bring out the full flavor of the amuse, some orange and lemon zest and alderwood smoked sea salt.

Next up, the first two courses. I was particularly excited about the saffron scented parsnip soup with the butternut squash coulis. Since we ended up with no vegetarians, I decided the parsnip soup should get a chicken stock base. And I knew I was making a risotto later--I'd need lots of chicken stock for two days of meals. Only one good option.

I was going to make my own chicken stock.

We kept this one simple. I brought and quartered a whole chicken, used my trusty cleaver to split the bones into 2 inch long pieces, and simmered the bones away for a few hours while reserving the chicken meat for my own devious dinner purposes (nothing special, just some nuggets and and pan-roasted chicken breast). Later I added a white mirepoix of onion, celery, and parsnip along with some black peppercorns, salt, and bay leaves. An hour later, I strained the whole mixture and voila...enough chicken stock for the whole weekend.

The stock made its appearance in the parsnip soup after I had sauteed some shallots, carrots, and celery until they were soft. With this soup I thought a contrast in colors between the white, creamy parsnip and the rich, dark orange butternut squash would be both visually delightful and interesting the palette. And while the carrots and saffron made the parsnip soup a bit more orange than I had hoped, decreasing my color contrast, the taste was fantastic. Well balanced and velvet-smooth (the result of pushing the soup through my chinois), I wouldn't have changed much of anything about this satisfying, hearty soup.


The rest of the table got a composed salad of duck confit, escarole, butter lettuce, poached pear, dried cranberries, and toasted sunflower seeds. This salad was designed to be the very pinnacle of balance. The bitter escarole was balanced with the fresh, crispy butter lettuce. The poached pear balanced the rich, fatty duck confit. And the crunch sunflower seeds balanced the fruity explosion of the dried cranberries on the tongue. And they were all brought together by this genius honey-champagne vinaigrette that Alyse made that I'd like to take a bath in.


Part 2 will come in the next couple of days and will walk you through the deliciously complex main courses and the desserts. Stay tuned!

Practice Makes Perfect?

With restaurant weekend quickly approaching, it seemed only appropriate to give the whole thing a quick dry run...with some minor tweaks to keep it interesting. See, Lisa won't be able to make either seating so I thought I'd try experimenting on her to see if it was only my ego that thought I could make three courses worth paying $30 for. Unfortunately, I was so stuffy I had completely lost my sense of smell, so I really had to rely on Lisa for guidance with this one.

After hearing Alyse talk of her honey-champagne vinaigrette, I figured it was a match made in heaven for salad featuring duck confit. I picked up some escarole and endive from Wegman's, tossed it in the vinaigrette, and added toasted sunflower seeds and a few dashes of dried cranberry. I simply rewarmed the duck confit in bacon fat on the stovetop and included some pear I had poached in sherry and a bit of sugar. Solid, except the bitter+bitter idea on the greens was a bit overwhelming. For restaurant weekend, I'll use butter lettuce instead of endive. The honey-champagne vinaigrette was FREAKING AWESOME. Oh, and Lisa brought a camera so we have pictures!


Next up was a pan roasted rack of lamb with homemade gnocchi, sauteed langoustines, and a truffled cream sauce. The centerpiece of this dish? Not the lamb, gnocchi, not even the langoustines....the truffled cream sauce. Which, of course, you need a sense of smell to enjoy. So I have no idea how this dish turned out (though I will say I was unsatisfied with the presentation and disappointed that I overcooked the lamb). Lisa said it was good, but she could have been lying. This dish had a lot going on, and I think the overall quality struggled. Clearly something to work on when I'm prepping 7 different dishes for a total of 6 people. Yikes.


Finally, the pineapple creme brulee. Very good thing I tried this ahead of time, because I completely failed at getting the brulee to set. I have ideas for next time that should do me a bit better, but Lisa got treated to something that was more like creme pudding than brulee. On the bright side? The browning torch is the coolest thing I have ever owned.

The general recipes have been brainstormed for the weekend, the slots have been filled, and the menu choices have been made. Check out the final ish:

Amuse bouche of Foie Gras and Grape Chutney

Course 1: Salad of Duck Confit with Sherry Poached Pear and Honey-champagne Vinaigrette or Saffron Scented Parsnip Soup with Butternut Squash Coulis

Course 2: Horseradish Crusted Rack of Lamb with baby argula, sauteed langoustines, and cherry gastrique or White Truffle Risotto with Gulf Shrimp Fondue

Course 3: Pineapple Creme Brulee or Profiteroles with Coffee Ice Cream and Bailey's Irish Cream Chocolate Sauce

So if you were attending, what would you order?

Quiche!

Every now and then I've found I need to take a step back from the upscale haute cuisine I've been so enthralled with recently and remember some of the dishes that started this whole culinary journey.

My mom endures a lot of teasing (especially from her side of the family) about her skills in the kitchen, but the reality is some of my all-time favorite foods have come from her kitchen: the french fries that have become small legends among my friends, the macaroni and cheese that I've been happy to serve time after time, and the fried chicken that I still don't know how to recreate.

But perhaps my favorite of all of these, since before I even knew had to spell (or probably pronounce the word), is the spinach and bacon quiche. So much do I love it that I'm not even remotely tempted to kick it up with my own additions.

I start with chopped braised spinach in a mixing bowl mixed with extra sharp cheddar, monterey jack, and asiago.. Either frozen or fresh spinach will do, but when I do it fresh I make sure to keep the vinegar to a subdued minimum. In a separate bowl I mix 6 eggs and about a quarter cup of milk with some salt and pepper. Add the egg mixture with a healthy dose of chopped bacon to the spinach, and pour into two pie crusts that have been pre-baked for about 10 minutes. Top with lots more extra sharp cheddar and bake at 300 degrees for about 25-30 minutes. Let chill for about 10 minutes before serving.

There are few words to describe how delicious this quiche is. The amounts of spinach, bacon, and cheeses are really up to you, but I like to be heavy on both the cheese and the bacon. Spoken like a true southerner.

But of course, I can't keep the gourmet stuff on the back-burner too long. Next up, my restaurant weekend dry run, and the menu for the real restaurant weekend, coming up in just 6 short days!

2 for 2

My fantasy of opening a fine dining restaurant has always felt like just that--a fantasy. Especially a year ago, when I took that next step in cooking--a full set of cookware. When I really got into making my own recipes. I mean, sure, I could recreate recipes pretty well, but my original recipes were rarely spectacularly interesting. Sure, a tasty meal at the end of a day of work--but nothing I'd be excited to see on a plate I had paid $30 for.

That seems to be slowly changing. And I owe a significant amount of it, no doubt, to my sauce work and in particular my discovery of gastriques. A gastrique is actually a pretty basic sauce: a pureed fruit of some sort, white wine or vinegar, salt, pepper, and sugar. I first had the idea to make a gastrique from some leftover cherries and pair it with my horseradish crusted rack of lamb a few weeks ago. And if you recall, I was so impressed with that dish that I mentioned I would have been happy to have gotten it at any restaurant I've ever been to. (Side note: a reminder for me-next time, serve it over some baby arugula tossed in lemon juice, salt and pepper for a little acidic kick. See? Where is this COMING from??)

I was so happy with the cherry gastrique that when I went exploring in Harris Teeter the other day to try to figure out what to make with my friend Jess, I stopped dead in my tracks as I passed the blackberries.

Although, to be fair, I didn't conceive this dish around the blackberry gastrique. Actually, the dual presentation of a duck breast and thigh at Blue Duck Tavern, as bad as it tasted, gave me an idea of two separate preparations of two different parts of a duck (or chicken) with two different sauces.

So I scoured Harris Teeter for ideas. I settled on skin-on chicken breast and, since the pieces were a bit smaller, both a chicken leg and thigh. Pan roasting the chicken and....how about shallow poaching? It's one of the techniques in The Professional Chef that I hadn't tried, but seemed like a good idea. Cool. And then I'll make a sauce from the reduction of the poaching liquid. I still needed a base for my second sauce and that's when I walked by the blackberries.

I started with by browning minced garlic in butter and adding chicken stock, salt, pepper, and pomegranate juice...just enough to come halfway up the chicken legs and thighs. I poached on the stovetop on medium low for a few minutes, being careful not to let the poaching liquid boil, and then tossed the whole pan in the oven. Next I started the chicken breasts on the stovetop, seasoned with cumin, salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne, chili powder, coriander, and mustard ground. That pan also ended up in the oven. While the chicken was poaching/roasting, I braised some rainbow chard in balsamic vinegar, white wine, salt, and pepper. Then made the gastrique...I simmer my gastrique with bay leaves, star anise, and allspice before I push it through a chinois and let it continue to reduce until just thickened. Just before I pulled the legs and thighs out of the oven, I turned the broiler on high to caramelize the skin just a bit. Then, took the pan out, removed and covered the chicken, and put the pan back on the stovetop. I let the poaching liquid reduce and strained out the garlic. I laid a dollop of rainbow chard in the middle of the plate and arrange the three pieces of chicken around it. On the side of the pan-roasted breast, I spooned the blackberry gastrique...now a rich, deep red. And on the side with the shallow-poached leg and thigh, I spooned the dark brown pan reduction.

With the exception of a slight overdoneness on the chicken that was basically a timing issue, I was thrilled with the outcome. The acidic chard cut through the sweetness of the gastrique and the rich flavor of the reduction. The chicken was well seasoned and the sauced complimented the preparation styles very well. And it was the second dish in as many tries that I think would be completely worthy of a spot on the menu of the vast majority of fine dining establishments out there.

Lord knows it'd be a step up from Blue Duck Tavern....

PS-One day I'll start taking pictures again. I just don't know when that will be.

Bicycles.

Miss Natalie's birthday was a few weeks ago, which gave me an excuse to head up to Baltimore and check out the best food it had to offer. Not knowing much about the city or its food, we were kind of flying blind, but I read very good things about a restaurant called....Bicycle.

I knew I was in trouble when I walked in the door. We were greeted by spectacular smells wafting through an open kitchen into the dining room just a few feet away. The Executive Chef was on the premises that night, and cooks bustled about, busying away at creating dish after dish. A couple of plates sat waiting for just a moment or two under the heat lamps before the thoughtfully put together dishes were whisked away to awaiting diners. I had a feeling we were in for a treat.

Nat had been eyeing a sashimi of tuna and avocado dish since we saw on the menu on their website. I was enthralled by the diver scallops with apples, fennel, braised cabbage, and a truffle vinaigrette. But then....then the waiter came by with a first course special of mussels and prawns in a sweet white wine garlic sauce. Decisions....decisions.

Let's do all three.

And all three we did. My diver scallop was spectacularly prepared--literally a paragon of balanced flavors. Everything was just a symphony. Impeccable. Nat's tuna and avocado was a simple, clean dish. No explosively surprising flavors, but phenomenal texture, and the freshness of the tuna really spoke for itself. I'm always impressed with minimalist dishes like that--ones that manage to still speak loudly, even when they aren't layer after layer after layer of flavor. In that way, Nat's dish and my dish were total opposites. Mine the layering of truffle, apple, fennel, cabbage, scallop, baby arugula. Hers just tuna, avocado, a light peanut dressing, and a bit of masago.

But the third appetizer--deliciously fresh mussels and huge prawns in a sauce of delicious heaven--wins the 'lick the plate" award. In fact, it came with two large pieces of Texas toast that could, should, and I can only imagine were designed to, sop up as much of the sauce as possible. Sweet, spicy, rich...I literally wanted to put it in a baby's bottle and carry it around with me. Rest assured, I will find some way to recreate that sauce. Perhaps at this moment I was most impressed by the flexibility of the chef; we had now enjoyed a restrained dish, a delicately balanced dish, and a rich, filling, homey dish.

Unfortunately, neither main course lived up the abundance of the first courses. Natalie ordered a New Zealand rack of lamb that should have used the same restraint we found in the tuna. Lamb is like beef tenderloin--so naturally flavorful and tender, it should always be complimented by its additions...not covered up. Unfortunately, this lamb was marinated in some sort of citrus that ended up a distraction and, for me, ruined the dish. My steak was a little better, but not by much. I ordered a NY Strip that was, unfortunately, not particularly tender. It was garnished well--some finely diced bell pepper--but the steak just didn't speak too loudly for me. I definitely felt like I could have better at home with the steak and the lamb, and that wasn't true of any of the first courses.

Finally, dessert. Natalie got a chocolate waffle with flambeed bananas. I didn't find it particularly impressive. But then I got a chocolate peanut butter cup....literally a chocolate cup with a rich peanut butter ganache, torched whipped cream, and peanut brittle. After every bite, I had this overwhelming desire to say "that's what she said." It was literally so good it was sexual, and it was enough, once combined with the consistent exceptional quality of the first courses, to put Bicycle in my top 3 of all time. Just behind Perilla and Corduroy. Now I just need an excuse to go back to Corduroy...

Coming soon, my second dish in as many attempts that should be served in a restaurant somewhere, and musings on running my own Restaurant Week(end).

Probably sits at number 3, behind Perilla and

Showed flexibility

Anti-Valentine's Day Dinner

I'll start by sparing you my rant on all the reasons Valentine's Day is a holiday with no redeemable qualities or value whatsoever. I'm tempted, I really am, but this blog is about food, right?

So Terri and Steph came over to watch Live Free or Die Hard and enjoy some tasty deliciousness. I was feeling a bit creative, so I decided to boil some tomato water, salt and pepper, and spoon it over some slices of sashimi grade tuna. With the tuna firmed up just a bit, a sprinkled some Hawaiian sea salt on top with some soy sauce and truffle oil. Nice, clean first course.

Then seared a couple of racks of lamb with coriander, salt, and pepper. After I took them off the stovetop, I coated the lamb in horseradish, more salt, and more pepper and tossed them in the oven. While that lamb was roasting, I started the gastrique by running some cherries through a food mill until all the seeds were separated. I added the seeded cherries to a couple of cups of white wine, two bay leaves, a half a teaspoon or so of cloves, about a tablespoon of sugar, and about a teaspoon of whole allspice. I let the sauce reduce until just thickened and served it with the perfectly medium-rare lamb.

I love those rare times when a dish just really works on all cylinders. This was definitely one of those times. The salty tanginess of the horseradish crust was perfectly balanced by the sweet complexity of the gastrique. This was my first attempt at a gastrique, and I'm incredibly excited to try it with other fruits. A mango gastrique? With some roasted chicken, perhaps? Mmmmm......

Delicious.

T Eats Bone Marrow

I was interested in a nice dinner after a fantastic dance performance by Aysha Upchurch's Life, Rhythm, Move project last night--another appearance at Corduroy certainly seemed to be in order. Unfortunately, that bastion of spectacular food preparation is currently closed for its hop, skip, and jump a couple of blocks to a new location. But Blue Duck Tavern is supposed to be one of the better restaurants in DC, so I thought I would give it a try...

Oops.

I didn't have reservations, but I called ahead of time to gauge their business on a Sunday night. Not knowing when the show would end, I didn't find it prudent to make an arbitrarily timed reservation; I wanted to just be able to walk in and get a table. So as we walked into a mostly empty restaurant, I figured I was in good shape. But the hostess' response to my request for a table for two was that "she would see what she could do." Five minutes later she comes back and informs me I can have a table, but I have to be gone in two hours. Fine. Whatever.

We sit down to a menu that seemed numerically ambitious for a fine dining establishment. Sure, when I walk into Applebees I expect an abundance of choices, all of which will be prepared in a mediocre fashion. But most of the good meals I've had are chosen from a limited menu. Perhaps 6 or 7 choices for 1st and 2nd courses...but here, a list of a dozen first courses, a score of main dishes, and a dozen more side dishes? Raised an eyebrow...that's all.

So I'm glancing down the menu of starters when something catches my eye. Does that say bone marrow? At that precise moment, the server approaches the table and asks for our orders. I look up, mostly stupefied, and ask.

"What is bone marrow?"

I'm THINKING it must be a metaphor. Perhaps a preparation of something served in bone. Or a like Corduroy's "Buffalo Porcupines" which, rest assured, did not actually contain porcupine.

Nope. Bone marrow. Braised. Spiced. Bone Marrow. It's the house specialty for a first course. You can't really find it anywhere else in DC.

"I'll take it."

Sure enough, three halves of bone arrive a few minutes later alongside some toasted ciabatta bread. Scoop the marrow onto the bread and enjoy, the server tells me. Turns out bone marrow is much thinner than you might expect. But it basically had the taste and texture of....fat. Soft, salted, peppered, fat. Served on a piece of bread. I made it through one half of a bone before I had my fill. Nice to have tried, but certainly won't be ordering it again.

I had opted for a second course of duck breast and leg--also a house specialty--which came out soon after the bone marrow. Interestingly, as I look around, the restaurant is still mostly empty. Just why was it so hard to get us a table? Anyway, the duck is served in a very simple, non flashy presentation. No color, no flair...just a bit of sliced duck and a twig of rosemary. It's ok--I'll forgive that lack of thought in plating if it's tasty.

It wasn't. The duck skin was overly fatty (made all the worse by the fact that I had just consumed what felt like fat on a cracker for an entire first course) and the duck itself was a bit dry. No interesting or robust flavors. A date puree that was decent, but almost overpoweringly sweet. Long story short, I've made duck twice and I think both preparations were better.

I finished with a chocolate cake flambe that was the highlight of the night. Dense without being too rich, I finished all of it happily and glanced around. The restaurant was still empty.

In the overall scheme of DC restaurants, Blue Duck Tavern finishes a healthy few steps behind Jaleo, probably tied with the Oceanaire Seafood Room. But it definitely loses points for the aura of exclusivity it tried to hard to create. You want exclusivity? Make your food good enough to where you'll actually need to be concerned about an overbooked Sunday night. Overall Grade: C+

Yes. We. Can.

{Warning: Non food-related opinions ahead.}

So most of you know me by my daytime alter ego--a political operative bent on making the world just a bit better than I found it. So you won't be particularly surprised by the presence of my opinions on the subject. Although it is certainly to be understood that this food-dominated medium may be seem strange. You would be right. But since I believe today marks the most important electoral day thus far in our history, I would be remiss to ignore it with the excuse of a "poor medium."

Many of you may find the above statement puzzling. Today? Clearly important, but more important than November of '04? Than the election of Lincoln? Than the election of George Washington himself?

Never will you see me play down the importance of those days. The birth of a nation, a decision to end slavery, and the opportunity to defeat the most destructive President in our nation's history all should stand on their own as defining days.

But today we have the opportunity to literally and figuratively close the book on some of the darkest days of our past. After all, what better way to show progress beyond the days when a black man could be killed for knowing how to read than to elect one President? No, a President Obama does not mean the end of racism, or the end of our duty to pursue all forms of social justice. But it does give me hope. Yes, hope for a post-partisan Presidency...one that informs rather than deceives...one that lives for the American people and not in spite of them...one that unites rather than divides...Yes, I have hope for all of those things. But also hope that this beautiful country, for all its flaws and mistakes, is ultimately a force for good and cannot be denied or impeded on its endless march towards justice and enlightenment. Proof that we can make yesterday's impossible into today's reality not only today, but again and again for years to come.

It is true that today will very likely fail to mark the end of the campaign for either Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton, almost regardless of the outcome. But today can be a giant step for either candidate and so, until we reach the day when we can almost certainly crown a nominee, or until we reach that day in November when we can elect a President Obama, this day will remain, for me, the most important electoral day in our history.

Super Bowl Extravaganza

A full day of shopping. 4 hours of mise en place on a Saturday night. A rising at 9am on Sunday after an evening out till 4am. 7, maybe 8 courses...I lost track. 25 people. The Super Bowl.

Amazing how these things can come and go so quickly. Now, all that remains of the insane dinner we enjoyed just hours ago are some dirty dishes, (Ok, let's be fair...lots of dirty dishes) the soreness in my legs, back, and neck, and a couple of leftovers. And of course, the memories. And for one of my favorite parties thus far, I'm oh so happy to record those (food-related) memories for you.

It all started Saturday morning with braving bloodthirsty suburbanites in Costco. As much as I love me some Costco, I swear I get nightmares about those crowds and parking lots. Along for the ride was Alyse, who saved my life time after time after time all weekend. I got home just in time for the first soccer game of the weekend. After I got back home and showered, it was right back into the war zone...this time, Wegman's in Fairfax.

Let me take a moment to talk about the great things Wegman's has going for it. A spectacular selection. Perhaps the best I've seen anywhere, as far as gourmet foods, and definitely rivaling the Dekalb Farmer's Market. (Holy crap they had langoustines!) Totally reasonable prices. I felt like I was shopping at Harris Teeter more than Whole Foods. But with the same kind of Whole Foods freshness I love so much.

Unfortunately, the trip to Fairfax brings with it both the good and the bad. The good--clearly Wegman's itself. The bad--all the other people that decide to shop there. The ones that don't seem to realize that they are in public and should behave as such. The ones that cut you off and steal your parking space. Twice. The ones that make you say and feel things you are ashamed of later.

Anyway, Wegman's wrapped up most of my shopping--picked up a few things at Whole Foods, and got home at about 6pm. Made the salsa, started the spinach and artichoke dip, tossed the tomatoes in the oven to roast, and made the barbeque sauce.



Woke up at 9am with a full day ahead. The smoked turkey and bacon chowder, tortilla chips, pita chips, finishing the spinach dip, making the ribs, making a citrus bourbon glaze for the wings and a wasabi ranch sauce to dip them in, the roasted tomato caprice crostinis, the white chocolate risotto, and the mini salads of cucumber, arugula (couldn't find frissee anywhere), and yellow bell pepper with a red pepper coulis. And the seared ahi tuna.

Oh yeah, and I have another soccer game.

But with Alyse's help, it all happenned. For real. From beginning to end, with the singular exception of the cherry cranberry croutons. Alas, another day and another use for the bag of 183940 dried cranberries I got from Costco.

The Good: The ribs and barbeque sauce. Back on track here, thankfully, and came out with a great barbeque sauce after starting it from scratch with just tomato paste, instead of my usual half-cheat by using Heinz ketchup as a base. Clearly, the most underappreciated dish of the night, though, was the smoked turkey and bacon chowder. I'd have to personally put it near the top of my list for most successful dishes of all time. Yeah, that good. Also, like always, the white chocolate risotto came in big.

The Bad: The citrus bourbon wings turned into citrus mirin wings that we could never quite figure out. The flavor was a good idea, and the wasabi ranch actually worked, but we messed with the sauce too much. Mirin+lemon, orange, and lime zests plus orange juice salt, pepper seemed like it had a good, balanced, sweet flavor, but was too thin. Later attemps to thicken without changing the flavor profile were not ultimately as successful as I would have liked, but we made good efforts and learned something.

The Ugly: Not paying attention to the salmon and slightly overcooking it. Also, pureeing tomatoes, cilantro, and onion leaves you with this unattractive brown color. When I want to add some body to my salsa, I need to puree the tomatoes on their own.

The Fantastic: The Giants beat the Patriots. Really, could I have asked for a better evening?

Random Deliciousness

So I'm not going to end up recounting the full meals of the last few months; t'would be insane. But a couple of dishes stand out that should be detailed.

When I got home, I asked the mother for suggestions for the first meal I should make upon getting back. I should note that twice I've trusted the fam to rock out some beef tenderloin on their own and, without going into details, you'll just need to trust me that neither preparation ended up being ideal. And boy, am I going to regret writing that-I can hear my mom dialing my number right now...

In any case, I decided we had to start off with a bang. First I melted about 4 tablespoons of butter on the stovetop and added a bit of cream and some sliced garlic. Then I started cooking some bacon and, when all the fat was rendered, searing the tenderloins on both sides in that baconny goodness. They had been dusted with white pepper, cumin, black pepper, kosher salt, and a bit of cayenne.

After some good caramelization on both sides, tossed the tenderloins in the oven, then returned to the bacon grease, which then got some nice sea scallops crusted with black pepper, salt, and cayenne on both sides. Finally, minced the bacon from the beginning of the meal. Topped the tenderloins with sliced scallops, the bacon, and just a dash of garlic butter sauce. Mom called it the best steak she had ever had. I must say, it ranked up there.

I had brought home a sweet potato cheesecake that, in addition to the standard cream cheese, eggs, sugar and milk, got an extra dose of sour cream and pureed sweet potato and a topping of toasted coconut that solidified my love for making cheesecakes. I'm pretty sure that, from here on out, cheesecake is going to basically be my dessert of choice.

I spent weeks brainstorming ideas for the office holiday party. See, the theory behind it made sense--we have lots of people with food talent in this office, and should take advantage of it (them) and make them cook for us. Unfortunately, a middle of the day office party doesn't exactly lend itself to a roasted leg of lamb, so I had to figure out what I could make that would be good cold/room temperature and wouldn't degrade in quality from my preparation the previous night all the way through the afternoon. I finally got an idea when Alyse told me about a dish she ate that had grapes that had been simmered in simple syrup. I'd take Belgian endive spears, fill them with grapes I simmered in simple syrup, a bay leaf, and some allspice, over some melted havarti cheese.

Unfortunately, when I went shopping the night before the party...no belgian endive. Crap. So instead I did them in bell pepper quarters, which made the dish a bit sweeter than I would have liked (thanks to my failure to remember the frissee that would have added a bitter note to replace the lost endive), but it turned out ok.

That wasn't the only recent night that had me at a loss for food ideas. Intern Monica was in town, and needed to be fed. I didn't want to spend a lot of money, but figured she deserved something that had a littttle bit of effort put into it. We wanted Harris Teeter for about ten minutes before I stumbled across some gorgeous looking tuna. Does Intern Monica like raw tuna? No? Tough luck, I'm serving it to you anyway. And then...mmm, dried cranberries....how about...a cranberry risotto?

I had never made seared tuna before, and didn't really know how I was going to do it. So I ground some whole coriander and added a litttttle bit of black pepper and a generous helping of sesame seeds. Seared it on all sides, and them made a quick soy wasabi vinaigrette. Soy sauce, wasabi, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper. And then I made a typical risotto, just adding dried cranberries about halfway through the process. The little fruity bursts of flavor provided terrific balance to the heavy, thick texture of risotto. And today, Intern Monica likes raw tuna.

Later this weekend, because this post is getting too long, I play with potatoes via gnocchi and truffle oil!

New Look!

We're coming up on what feels like the 1-year anniversary of this bloggy goodness. Must say, the fact that it's still going at all is kind of an interesting testament--rarely have I stuck with any individual blogging project for so long. True, I've taken my share of hiatuses and breaks, but I still loving sharing with all 5 (6? maybe) of you my adventures in food.

And another adventure is coming up...the first of its kind in quite some time. This time, T tackles the Super Bowl. Of course, typical Super Bowl food--Tostitos salsa, hot wings, boring old ribs, chili, pizza, and burgers--just isn't going to do it for me. But I don't want to stray too far from tradition, so I thought I'd do upscale versions of each.

So I'll be frying my own tortilla chips and accompanying with a homemade salsa and perhaps an updated version of my spinach and artichoke dip. Don't know what the update will be yet, but I've made it the same way three times and I'm a big fan of variety.

Instead of chili, we'll try a smoked turkey and bacon chowder. Instead of pizza, we'll be doing the roasted tomato caprices with crostinis topped with varied toppings. The ribs will be braised in beer, spice crusted, and slathered in my very own barbeque sauce.

I took a few months off from cooking ribs and, when I got home got a request from the family. I went about making them the way I usually do, but when they finished, they were 823048 times tougher than I've ever made them before. I tried again when I got back with the same result. What happenned?

I didn't cover them while they braised.

Yup. That simple. Won't make that mistake again.

Now, the wings. Do I make them spicy? Sweet? Different batches? I'm crazy low on ideas.

Finally, a salad of cucumber, frissee, and yellow bell pepper with a red pepper coulis. And I might add tuna for my meat-eaters.

And I should do a dessert. What does that come to? 7 courses? Ish? Awesome. I'm insane. But thankfully I'll have the one and the only Alyse at my aid over the course of what is sure to be an insanely long Sunday of cooking. What could be better?

Welcome to Restaurant Week

a.k.a. Why I should listen to Boss Dave about food recommendations in DC.

Around mid-August, tons of friends and acquaintances began blathering endlessly about something called "restaurant week." Apparently a fixture of cities around the Northeast (I've also heard news of the same concept in Baltimore, Philly, and NYC), restaurant week offers three course meals for $30 at restaurants around the city. While the restaurants may range from the inexpensive (and thus clearly not worth it) to the supremely expensive (but also not worth it because the food isn't good) to supremely expensive and completely and totally worth it, I got one piece of advice from fellow foodie Dave, who argued that while the food may be more reasonably priced during restaurant week, it ends up more mass produced. And since everyone and their mom (in the case of Friend Terri, literally her mom) decides to go, every decent restaurant is packed, and you get what you might expect from overcrowded restaurants: kitchens crash, food is ill-prepared, servers are in bad moods, and the overall experience is generally not as good.

So I missed the entirety of restaurant week in August, thinking I was dodging a bullet. But when it came around this winter, I decided I shouldn't knock it until I tried, it, so I went all in. An invite from friend Terri took us out to Willow in Arlington. I just knew I had to eat with Alyse, so we tried the Oceanaire Seafood Room in Penn Quarter. And Scott and I had agreed to find a spot, so I managed to pick up a super late table during Corduroy's extended version of restaurant week.

Dave was right.

The first effort was with Alyse, Elisabeth, and Intern Monica at Oceanaire Seafood Room. I ordered a clam chowder that was good, but no better than the $3 chowder I can get at the Maine Avenue Seafood Market. My main coarse was a grilled Alaskan Salmon in a beurre blanc. While I was impressed with the grilling technique--it was well caramelized without being overdone--it was drowning in a beurre blanc was so heavy and poorly made that I couldn't even finish the dish. Finally, a chocolate cake that was. Eh. My dining companions may have had slightly better experiences, but Intern Monica claimed she preferred my wasabi-soy vinaigrette to the cajun sauce she was received with her mahi mahi. And anyone who dines with me knows that my ultimate opinion of a restaurant comes down to its ability to serve me something superior to what I can make at home. Grade: C+

But to be fair, Oceanaire is a chain that isn't regarded as one of the better restaurants in DC, so I approached my next destination, Willow, with an open mind. It's got a good reputation, and good buddies Tommy, Andrea, Terri, and Jessi seemed excited enough about it. My first course was a chestnut gnocchi with duck confit. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't gnocchi. It was drowning in a sauce (soup?) alongside some mushy vegetables and a couple of scraps of duck confit that might as well have been chicken. It didn't taste awful, and I did finish it, but I was expecting a much more impressive and well-conceived dish. I ordered horseradish crusted skate, as I was fresh off my experience of crusting prime rib with the deliciously salty biting flavor.

No. Horseradish. Flavor. It could have been crusted in baking powder, for all I knew. Really? Don't put horseradish in the name of the dish if it's completely undetectable. I did enjoy the taste of the skate, which I had never tried before, but it ended up being just a few steps up from a well-fried piece of catfish. Yikes. I did, however, enjoy the peachy Sauvignon Blanc I ordered along with it.

Finally, the obvious high point of the meal: a white chocolate cheesecake. Though poorly named (it had the texture of pudding more than a cheescake) it was an absolutely delicious rose of another name. Overall grade: B-

Which brings us to Corduroy and a restaurant week-jaded version of T. Granted, Corduroy is supposed to be one of the better restaurants in the city and has gotten rave reviews from everyone I know who loves food. But still, my restaurant week experience thus far has been pretty disappointing, and I wasn't expecting much.

Boy was I wrong. As I walked into the tucked-away restaurant on the second floor of the Four Points Sheraton, I immediately noticed something different about the place. Certainly, the decor was understated and classy--much to my liking--but the smell. Oh lord, the smell was just divine. And as I was enjoying my first whiffs of the combination of delicious aromas, I caught my first glance of a plate--a cornish game hen, perhaps? The plating was clean while creative, and I could tell I was in for a good night.

Six of us, this time: Coworkers Morgan and Julie, My Boy Scott and his friend Sarah, and Friend Lisa. We sat down to a relatively extensive menu for restaurant week which lots of intriguing options. A parsnip soup, a mozarella "porcupine", a lobster salad with basil oil. Mmmmm.....I decide to run with the parsnip soup, which ended up the choice of a majority of the table. Morgan and Julie ran with the mozarella porcupines--chunks of warm, fresh mozarella with buffalo sauce and what looked like fried cellophane noodles. My parsnip soup was warm, delicate, and addictive. I just couldn't stop eating it. New Years Resolution: Cook more with parsnips.

The food menu wasn't the only extensive one. We enjoyed an extensive wine list, complete with a myriad of tempting options. Fellow foodie Sarah and I were dispatched to choose a bottle for a few of us, and we settled on a Kunin Syrah from '03 that I was pretty impressed with. Subtly complex, little bit of cherry, little bit of oak. But not too pretentious. Tastyyyyy.

The main courses weren't any easier to choose from. A flat iron steak, striped bass, a melange of vegetables....but like so many other times, there was really only one choice for me. The lamb, a top sirloin from New Zealand, cooked medium rare and served with creamed spinach.

And the lamb is what knocks this meal into top 5 meals of all time. It simply could not have been cooked to a more perfect level of doneness. The creamed spinach was a perfect compliment, as were the duo of sauces. One au jus, another I just couldn't identify and couldn't even begin to prepare. The lamb alone is probably my single favorite dish of all time, just edging out Perilla's braised pork belly and Bobby Flay's 16 spice chicken.

Finally, the dessert. I order an apple tart. A couple of others order the creme brulee, and one set of ice creams. The ice cream that came along with my dessert was a deliciously fresh and creamy homemade vanilla, and the pastry a honeycomb of cinnamon goodness. But the apples. The apples were bitter. And thus, the only note that prevented Corduroy from serving me the best meal I've ever eaten, an honor that still goes to NYC's Perilla. Of course, all would be different if I had ordered the creme brulee, which was sinfully good. So good I finished the plates of not one, not two, but three others who had ordered it and run out of room. Grade: A+ 96 out of a possible 100.

So sure, I'll probably do restaurant week once every cycle, more so for the time I got to share with friends than anything else, but the only one that impressed me enough to warrant a return for a meal that doesn't just cost $30 was clearly Corduroy. Now I'm just looking for an excuse to go back. Anyone hungry?

Toys!

Xbox 360. A new bike. A laptop computer. Cold, hard, cash. A Sega Saturn.

These are all things I've asked foraround Christmastime past years. Some of them have worked out well (cash, Xbox360) and some of them not so well (damn my endless loyalty to Sega. I blame Sonic.)

But this time around I asked for something(s) that are not only in completely different leagues from my previous requests, but are guaranteed to supply endless amounts of happiness.

First up is the most important: a food mill. Potato mashers are sooooooo mid 90s. You want the silky consistency of instant mashed potatoes with the flavor and texture of yukon golds, and there's really only one option: a food mill. It's also the ideal way to make gnocchi (coming later), juice pomegranate seeds, and remove the seeds and pulp from tomatoes. Combined with my new chinois, everything I make will finally have exactly the right consistency. I had never actually seen a chinois in action, but decided to give it its first go by making a mirepoix for my old barbeque sauce recipe and leaving in the onions, parsnips, carrots, and celery as the sauce simmered. Then, finally pushed it through the chinois and enjoyed the smoothest, richest barbeque sauce I've ever made. Awesome.

I decided a spice grinder would be in order, since whole spices last longer than ones you buy pre-ground. Since I like to keep a couple score of spices on hand at any given time (but usually take about a year to go through them) it seemed a logical choice. It got its first use when I ground whole coriander seeds to make a crust for the seared ahi tuna I made last week. The flavor difference: worlds apart. I'm not sure if there will be a next time that I'll use pre-ground spices. Yow.

If you love wine as much as I do (unlikely) you'll understand why I so desperately wanted a decanter. Nuff said, really. It gets its first test with a bottle of new bottle of Malbec I'm pretty excited to open.

I'm still a way aways from my first purchase of truffles, but I have been pretty interested in learning how to use their flavor. To that end, truffle oil works as a good substitute. I've only used it thus far drizzled on fries, but I definitely hope to use it with proteins and salads in very soon. Mmmmm. Truffffflleeessss.....

And finally, the simplest of my Christmas gifts: a $5 patch of cheesecloth that can add an extra layer of smoothness to any soups or sauces, can go towards enclosing a bouquet garni, or give me my first experience using tomato water. While wikipedia says I can also use it for making my own cheeses or handheld torches and flaming arrows, these uses are slightly less likely.

But I'll keep you posted.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf?

Ok, no, but seriously. This has gotten totally and completely out of hand. Two months without a post? And I don't even have any good excuses. I have a digital camera. I'm cooking like a madman. Geez, for 2.5 weeks of that I was at home playing video games and going out dancing every night. I couldn't pay y'all even a little attention?

Especially since, as could only be expected, my food is getting better and better. You'd think I would be more, not less interested in talking about my food that is better tasting and more interesting than the stuff I started with nearly a year ago. And of course, I'm pretty sure that each of that last few posts have contained promises to write more. I seriously need to stop crying wolf and put up some substantive content.

In fact, there is so very much to talk about, I can't even begin to think about putting it all in one post. We've got:

• Christmas presents. Yes, while my friends were asking for xboxes and clothes and money and whatnot, I was asking for...truffle oil. Among other fun things.
• Thanksgiving dinner. I am indeed that far behind on my updates. But no use in letting 9 courses of deliciousness go unaccounted for. (Well, honestly, 8 courses and some chickpeas gone horribly wrong)
  
• Christmas Dinner. While not quite as insane as Thanksgiving, it was a quality little meal worth at least half a post.
• New Years Dinner. My first chance to use my new cooking toys. And oh did I use them. Great stuff here. Plus, T experiments with prime rib and horseradish.
• Other assorted meals: a beef tenderloin preparation my mother called "the best steak she's ever had." (She also tells me I'm cool.) Pan-seared Ahi Tuna with a wasabi soy vinaigrette, a sweet potato cheesecake and spice-poached grapes in a cheesy bell bepper cup for the office holiday party, a cranberry risotto, truffled french fries, my first successful attempt at gnocchi, how I forgot how to cook ribs, and Why I should listen to my boss about Restaurant Week.

Of course, I'm sure I'm missing quite a bit. But I know I need to start catching up before I really start to play with all my new toys. Plus, a new cheesecake preparation is in the works and my first dinner party since mid-August. What do you get when you combine a new television, T, and the Super Bowl? I still haven't figured it out yet, but I'm ripe for suggestions!

So, you should start reading again. For real! I'll make it my New Years Resolution to post regularly, at least until I forget again. Peaces!