30 Minutes, 3 Ingredients, 1 Dinner

Sometimes, it’s fun to see how much we can do, with how little. I could list the underlying moral imperatives – saving money and time would presumably occupy the penthouse suite – but in the main, I just think it’s plain fun, a sort of Sudoku with pots and pans.

Case in point: How do you feed 3 persnickety kids, using just 3 ingredients, in only 30 minutes? Why 3, 3, and 30? 3 kids, because I get my wife pregnant just by looking at her the wrong way; 3 ingredients in 30 minutes, because  seemed a plausible benchmark for the real world; and because I’m capricious, and I say so.

You have a Niman Ranch bacon-wrapped pork chop that you bought at Costco for a bit under $7/lb; a half-full bag of heirloom Japanese rice in the cupboard, available at Safeway for around $8/5lb bag; and the Dwarf Navel Orange tree pictured at left, heavy with fruit the color of life jackets. You get 30 minutes to prepare a coherent plate of food for three young children, one of whom subsists on a diet of nothing but colorless carbohydrates, a range of milk fats, and salt. GO.

  • T-30. Under the gun, the main thing is triage: What needs to be done now, what can wait, how not to get behind. Generally, this means getting your pans hot – one for the chops, saucepan for the OJ – but if you’re making rice, that better get going, too. Nothing ruins a nice meal of pork chops with rice like no-rice. And turn the oven on.
  • T-25. Chops sizzle as they hit the pan, in a little butter, with a sprig of rosemary for aromatics. OJ, sugar and vinegar reducing in the saucepan. Rice not to be disturbed. Very little to do all of a sudden, so time to open the wine and get out the plates. (I’d probably serve this with a Viognier to pair with the lighter meat and the bright, fresh flavors of orange and rice wine vinegar). Once they develop a nice crust, turn the chops over, and stir the OJ mixture, just to feel productive (actually it’s to make sure it all incorporates).
  • T-15. Put the pan with the chops in the oven, checking the internal temperature. (You want to eat it close to 160F, so pull it a bit before then, giving it time to rest and continue cooking off the heat.) Check the consistency and seasoning of the sauce.
  • T-5. Strain sauce and season and fluff the rice. Just enough time to get it all on the plate and refill that wine glass.
  • T-0. Dinner: Pork chops, pan-roasted with rosemary from the garden, on a bed of gaijin-style sushi rice, and a drizzle of this nice home-grown Navel orange gastrique that I’ve pasted in over at the right, and which I wish I would have photographed without a cat toy in the background.

As to the recipe, I know a fair bit about eating sushi rice – done properly, which is to say almost never, sushi meshi requires the hand of an artisan and a delicate balance between temperature, texture, and seasoning – but almost nothing about cooking it, which is why I called mine gaijin style and invariably fall back on someone else’s simple recipe; a pan-roasted pork chop is self-explanatory, although I would emphasize the thermometer (well-done is inedible, and rare is dangerous); and the fresh orange gastrique, although it sounds like fancy footwork, is actually one of the quickest, easiest, and healthiest (a thickly textured, glossy sauce with no fat!) of sauces, and about which I drool ecstatic in this post from late last week. Don’t forget the wine!

Question of the Week: Perfect Sunday Suppers

Many local restaurants are banking on the Sunday supper — a fixed price family-style meal — to bring regulars back again and again for a hearty meal to start (or end) the week of right. From pot roast and meatloaf to prime rib or roast chicken, it’s all about comforting dishes that make us feel like we’re sitting around grandma’s table.

BiteClub’s on the hunt for the perfect Sunday meal, whether it’s one you create at home or one you eat out. Share your faves!

Winter Warmers: Hot Chocolate, Fondue and Fireplaces

Potato Skin Fondue at Stark's Steakhouse
Potato Skin Fondue at Stark's Steakhouse

If there’s nothing else we’ve learned over the last few weeks, it’s that the weather in Wine Country is unpredictable and the mercury can be, well, mercurial.

Even if it starts to feel like spring again, there’s an 80 percent chance of needing to snuggle by the fire in February. Because whether there’s a rainy chill settling into your bones or you just want to capture the winter apres-ski vibe, Sonoma County has plenty of spots to cozy up, chow down and let the braised, steamy or sweater-wrapped feeling melt away your mid-winter blues.

Hot Chocolate
The standard-bearer for liquid warmth, it’s impossible not to become a kid again as you sport the inevitable whipped cream mustache and cup icy fingers around a steaming mug of cocoa. One marshmallow or two?

The Peppermint Patty, Warm Puppy Cafe: Sure, there may be fancier cups of hot chocolate in Sonoma County, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find a better one. Pull up a rink-side seat at Snoopy’s Home Ice and wrap your lips around one of these tasty concoctions. For a little added spice, order a Peppermint Patty, a hot chocolate with a splash of peppermint and peppermint sprinkles. Plus, staff are used to tiny tykes and get the temp just right for eager young sippers. 1667 West Steele Lane, Santa Rosa, 546-7147.

Aztec Hot Chocolate, Flying Goat: While coffee is their main game, The Flying Goat makes a mean Aztec Hot Chocolate. Spiced with cinnamon and chili this sweet-hot drink harkens back to chocolate’s Mexican origins as xocoatl, a bitter brew served to kings.10 Fourth St., Santa Rosa, 575.1202; 324 Center St., Healdsburg, 433.3599.

Mexican Hot Chocolate Ice Cream, Screaming Mimi’s: Like the Aztec hot chocolate, this ice cream has some sweet heat, cinnamon and spices to dress up plain old cocoa. 6902 Sebastopol Ave., Sebastopol, 823-5902.

Mexican Hot Chocolate and Savory Hand Pies, Petaluma Pie Shop: What could possibly be more warming on a cold and rainy day than a steaming cup of cocoa and a freshly baked hand-pie filled with mushrooms and cheese? The newly opened Petaluma Pie beckons with warm scent of buttery crusts and spice-dusted fruits. To wash it all down, a freshly-brewed cup of cocoa made from cacao paste, sugar and spice.

Fondue
You can learn a lot about a person by sharing a pot of fondue. Do they yield generously, stab blindly or rudely leave behind chunks in the pot? Cheese to chocolate, it’s an exercise in communal communication.

Classic Swiss, Henweigh Cafe: Melted Gruyere and Emmentaler cheese for two with bread cubes and veggies to dip, and pineapple sausage a la carte, $28. 4550 Gravenstein Hwy North, Sebastopol, 829-7500.

Potato Skin “Fondue”, Stark’s Steakhouse: Grab your Lipitor, or you may not make it out of this one alive. A mound of fried, bite-sized potato pieces surround a molten pot of cheese. Topped with bacon. 521 Adams St., Santa Rosa, 546-5100.

Viva Cocolat, Chocolate Fondue: On Friday and Saturday nights, this Petaluma chocolatier offers fondue for two in milk, dark or white with an assortment of delectable dippables including strawberries, bananas, cake, marshmallows and more. Reservations suggested. 110 Petaluma Blvd, North, Petaluma, 778-9888.

A Warm Start
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and coffee isn’t the best way to get those fires lit.

Polenta Porridge with Brown Sugar, Zazu: Saturday and Sunday brunch at this roadhouse restaurant start your morning right with tummy warmers like hearty polenta (a sort of cornmeal) porridge, freshly made donuts and cornmeal waffles with strawberries and maple cream. Pair with the world’s best affogato, a coffee-drenched dessert with cardamom gelato. 9am to 2:30pm, 3535 Guerneville Road
Santa Rosa, 523-4814.

Jeffrey’s Favorite, Jeffery’s Hillside Cafe: Former John Ash & Co. Chef Jeffrey Madura has switched gears, running a breakfast, brunch and lunchery with some of the best morning munches in Sonoma. Don’t miss his sauteed chicken livers with onions, mushrooms and pancetta, served with creamy chive scrambled eggs and county potatoes. 2901 Fourth St., Santa Rosa, 546-6317.

Fireplaces
Gather round the hearth at these winter warming spots. Cricklewood may be best known for its steaks, but the cozy fireplace lounge is a top pick for grabbing a cocktail (4618 Old Redwood Hwy, Santa Rosa, 527-7768). John Ash & Company’s Front Room Bar and Lounge is a stellar spot for happy hour cocktails, around the stone-cut fireplace. don’t miss Chef Thomas Schmidt’s nacho french fries; cheese burger and veal sausage dogs with housemade ketchup.4350 Barnes Rd., Santa Rosa, 575-7350.

Franco’s Ristorante: We’re huge fans of Franco’s for the home made focaccia bread, wood-fired pizzas and cozy backroom fireplace. This under-the-radar pizza and pasta spot rarely fails when it comes to warming pasta and braised-meat dishes. 505 Mendocino Ave, Santa Rosa, 523-4800.

to the one i love

Santa Rosa's Howarth Park showing kids movies into the end of summer. Valentine’s day, sometime after 3pm, and I’ve got nada. No card, no candy, no flowers, no nothing. OK, that’s not entirely true, because we sloughed the kids off on the ‘rents yesterday, for just long enough to spend a bright and lazy Sunday afternoon canoodling over wine and chocolate, which surely counts for something.

The problem is, I’ve got a long and illustrious rap sheet as something of a Grinch on manufactured holidays, and I’m particularly poor at warm and fuzzy public declarations – had my bride and reverend not stood so close, they might have missed my whispered vows entirely, right along with the rest of our friends and family. And no matter what she says, no matter how completely she accepts my vinegary assessments of poetry and candle light, I know deep down in my toes that something is hoped-for, even if it’s not expected. And that I probably owe her that something, for far too many reasons to bother even mentioning.

So, having no adequate words of my own, and scant time to come up with much else, I’m stealing someone else’s; this one, Mr Stipe, goes out to the one I love (with thanks, for the assist):

[youtube mNBKM5so8tQ]

The chief risk in playing a song for your lover is, of course, that the lyrics may or may not actually say what you think they do, much less convey whatever it is that you meant:

This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I’ve left behind
Another prop has occupied my time
This one goes out to the one I love

Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)
Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)

Did he leave her for another? That wouldn’t be very Valentines-ish. Or maybe it’s about his remorse for any moment, every moment, they’ve spent apart? And fire, what’s that about? I’m awful at making sense of these sorts of thing, but here is what I do know: He loves her and her alone, and he sings about it with the sort of voice that makes it feel as if some great fat bastard just sat on your chest. That, and my wife loves Michael Stipe, so I’m going with it.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

(By the way, if this sounds even remotely familiar, my advice is, quit your bitching and man-up, already. And in case you’re tempted to steal a page from my playbook, feel free, but save yourself some angst and check out this short compendium of classic love songs that aren’t.)

Get Your Neurotoxin Off My Strawberry

I apologize in advance for what promises to be an angry post, but everyone has a line, and I draw mine at toxic strawberries.

In case you haven’t heard, the California Department of Pesticide Regulation (DPR) recently decided that the soil in which some 90% of the nation’s strawberries are grown may now be treated with the known carcinogen and neurotoxin methyl iodide, or MeI. How bad is this stuff? Well, for starters, it’s what scientists use when they want to create cancerous cells in the lab; it also causes brain damage and miscarriage, but who’s counting? Certainly not the DPR, who just rubber-stamped its use over the advice of their own scientific review panel, nor Arysta LifeScience Corp., the agri-chem company that requested the approval and manufactures the stuff under the perversely ironic “Midas” label. But if you really want to get your knickers in a twist, consider the stratospheric hypocrisy of the DPR, Arysta, and the subset of growers who rammed the approval through on a highly accelerated, “emergency” basis: MeI has been on the State of California’s own Prop 65 Safe Water and Toxic Enforcement Act list of chemicals known to cause cancer or reproductive toxicity for nearly a quarter-century. By our very State! Since 1988!

You’ll also hear this crowd’s vociferous insistence that the stuff will only be used in small quantities and will not be applied directly to the fruit, in case that makes you feel better; that line of argument did not, however, sway the 54 scientists and chemists who pleaded on the deaf ears of the Bush-era EPA when it conferred its Federal blessing:

Agents like methyl iodide are extraordinarily well-known cancer hazards in the chemical community. Because of methyl iodide’s high volatility and water solubility, broad use of this chemical in agriculture will guarantee substantial releases to air, surface waters, and ground water, and will result in exposures for many people.

I don’t know about you, but words like “guarantee”, “substantial”, and “exposure” make me nervous, at least when we’re talking about deadly poison. Granted, I’m a nervous Jew and prone to over-reaction, but I’ve got company, from American Public Media to The Atlantic, because it only gets worse when you confront the hard data: The legal limits for exposure as set by the DPR are on the order of 1oo times the “safe” levels as determined by the DPR’s own scientists.

Reasonable people might wonder how this all happened, in plain view of otherwise sane strawberry eaters everywhere. As environmental studies professor and blogger Envo explains, much of the blame lies with the process itself, the asymmetric force of the few on the levers of governance, the willful ignorance of DPR director Mary-Ann Warmerdam, and our misguided moral certitude about the sanctity of farmers’ wallets; collectively, they support a regulatory calculus in which the henhouse is beholden entirely to foxes. But the backstory, which you won’t get from the PC Elite, is nearly as troubling, another unintended consequence of our monolithic endorsement of whatever sounds most “green” at the moment; an inconvenient truth perhaps, but the door to MeI was initially flung open, not by chemical companies or farm lobbyists, but by the mandated phaseout of the ozone-depleting pesticide methyl bromide, in accordance with the Clean Air Act and the Montreal Protocol. As the Cornell Extension Toxicology Network explains,

The methyl bromide phaseout is due to action under the Clean Air Act… [The] Clean Air Act does not contain a risk/benefit balancing process that would allow retention of essential or high benefit uses, nor does the listing and phaseout of ozone depleters depend on the availability of alternative products.

In other words, in all our well-meaning myopia, we rushed headlong into a deal with a devil we didn’t know, who – like, say, corn-based ethanol or bailout financing – has now come back to take a super-sized bite out of our strawberry-loving asses.

It’s not that our fully-paid-up government overseers have again failed us – that I cynically accept as the chronic inevitability of life in a bloated nanny state – it’s the brazenness with which they’ve done it, the wanton whoring to special interests at the expense of hard science and the humanity of those they ostensibly serve, that has me so riled. That they’ve done so aided and abetted by the economic illiteracy of the environmentalist agenda just makes me plain batty. [Note: Despite the “emergency” approval, fumigants are not typically applied during the winter months, so there may be a window of time during which either the EPA or Governor Brown can do something. Consider signing either this petition, or this.]

[Graphic credits: Change.org, Wikipedia, and NPR]

Rosso to open in Petaluma

Rosso Pizzeria and Wine Bar is officially expanding to Petaluma. The popular Santa Rosa eatery has just inked a deal to move into the downtown Theater District just off Petaluma Blvd South.

According to co-owner and GM Kevin Cronin, the second outpost of Rosso will seat about 50 inside and 20 outside. The format will be similar to the Santa Rosa restaurant — wood-fired pizzas, piadini, fresh cheeses, house made salumi and plenty of by-the-glass wines — but the Petaluma location will also include a freshly made pasta special each day.

“It’s a little smaller than Santa Rosa and it will look a little different, but Petaluma is a lot like Santa Rosa in that there are so many incredible farmers nearby,” said Cronin. He and chef/owner John Franchetti plan to take advantage of local produce, meats and dairy at the southern location.

Freshly made mozzarella has become a signature of the Rosso operation in Santa Rosa and at local farmer’s markets, but with the abundance of dairy in Petaluma, Cronin said, “we may start experimenting with some different types of cheeses.”

The Petaluma space, which has never been occupied, will be built out over the coming months. Look for an opening between June and August of 2011.

Girl Scout Cookies: There’s an app for that

Think of it as GPS for your Thin Mints. With the click of a few buttons on your smart phone, you can now instantly track down the closest box of available Girl Scout cookies in your area, be it Samoa, Trefoil, Tagalong or Lemon Chalet.  It’s as easy as Click. Search. Eat.

Beginning February 24, the free Cookie Locator app for iPhone and Android will alert you to waiting gaggles of girls just waiting to sell you a box (or ten) of cookies from various booths, stands and gatherings of local scouts. Just type in your zip code, or let your phone geo-locate the nearest cookie commissary. Don’t have apps? Those clever Northern California Girl Scouts are also using Facebook and Twitter to get the word out about their tasty treats.

But don’t worry, technophobes. The scouts will also be pulling their cookie-loaded wagons through local neighborhoods on February 19 and 20 and selling to friends and family in the coming days.

What’s In The Box: This year, there are no new cookies in the NorCal lineup. On the menu are Thin Mints, Trefoils, Samoas, Tagalongs, Dulce de Leche, Do-Di-Dos, Lemon Chalet Cremes and the newish Thank U Berry Munch.

In case you’re wondering where that $4 per box you’re spending goes, you can rest assured that the calories you just ingested go toward camps, service projects, uniforms, membership fees and a variety of other good social deeds. Not pink ponies, candy and silly bands, as my own little Brownie had hoped.

Want to connect? Check out ilovecookies.org or go to twitter.com/ilovecookiesGS or Facebook GSNorCal.  To get the app (which won’t work properly until the 24th), call **GSCOOKIES.

Because it rhymes with ‘orange’

As promisedI may have seen a cloud this week, but if I did, I don’t remember it.

Really, our weather has been impossibly nice. And really, it ought to worry me – the lack of rain, the risk of budbreak before a frost – but it’s hard not to simply soak in it, the whole of our little wine country valley like some great, tickly bubble bath of pea shoots and sunlight. As you can plainly see, my magnolia tree remains entirely convinced that winter’s gone packing, despite the certainty of our path along the earth’s elliptic, and I suspect my grapes and roses are taking notes.

Herringbone Plaid Jacket from Talbot's Whether it’s the unseasonable warmth or some other circuit breaker in the soil, my oranges have never been sweeter and are staging a revolt: Pick us now! Or we’ll jump to our deaths! The challenge with even the smallest of orange trees, of course, is how to use all that fruit, the byproduct of the tree’s profligate attempts at procreation: I’m not above using them for decoration, for starters. A pitcher of juice, which I’ll first strain, with Sunday brunch. And come our turn for snack, a teeming orange kindergarten, chubby little faces full of silly smiling wedges.

But the greatest number, like uncountable generations before them, will meet their maker on the glass steeple of my great-grandmother-in-law’s juicer. At least, I think that’s where it came from, the Alabama kitchen of my wife’s mother’s youth, a vaguely Confederate past I try not to hold against the thing itself. Regardless, it’s a wonderfully dated piece of kitchenware, profoundly lo-tech and familiar in that way that only things first used by other, older hands can be, the sort of tool you never really own but merely take care of until it’s no longer your turn. It’s chipped, of course, somewhere along the base, but I’m not giving it up until it draws blood, and maybe not even then…

In any case, I’m not really a juice person, and I prefer my food more salty than sweet, so my first inclination was to cook all that fruit into something savory. This presented a minor technical challenge because of all that natural sugar, but that’s why some god with a palate gave us vinegar, and why I decided to try my hand at a gastrique, a simple sauce consisting of little more than sugar, fruit, and some sort of acid to balance it out. For the unrepentant sauce slut, particularly the non-professional, the gastrique is a wonderful thing: Requiring as few as three ingredients, one pot, and maybe 10 minutes of marginally active cooking time, the basic formula allows for virtually infinite variation, and is remarkably hard to screw up. This particular version reminds me of that sticky, neon glaze you’d get from the steam tray of a strip-mall Chinese, except that it tastes really good.

Use it as a glaze, a sauce proper, or a dip; serve it with grilled chicken, shellfish, or with pork chops and rice, as we did last night. Take the basic principle and make up your own: Maybe black cherries, with pheasant or game; a blackberry gastrique with fois gras; or a sweeter, raspberry-tinged version with bitter chocolate cake…

Fresh Naval Orange Gastrique
0.5c Water
0.5c Sugar
2c Freshly Squeezed OJ (or any juice you like, preferably strained)
0.5c Rice Wine Vinegar (or Sherry, White Wine, or whatever you have to hand)
Pinch of salt and fresh white pepper, to taste (optional)

  • Easy Way (and entirely adequate): Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive sauce pan, bring to the boil, and reduce to about a 0.5C. Strain and let cool.
  • Slightly Less Easy Way (the classic): Combine sugar and water in non-reactive sauce pan, bring to the boil, and cook until it reaches a golden color and starts to caramelize, stirring carefully. (Don’t let this stuff touch you! Molten sugar is a wicked, malicious thing.) Add the OJ and vinegar. The caramel will seize up and make you think that it’s all gone horribly wrong – don’t freak out, it’s fine, it will melt back in as soon as you bring it all back up to boiling. Stir the caramel in and cook down to 0.5C. Strain and let cool.
  • When Vegetarians Eat Meat

    Dr. Cocktail #7 at Spoonbar restaurant in Healdsburg. (Photo by Heather Irwin)
    His Holiness, meat-eater

    The Dalai Lama eats meat because his doctors tell him to. My wife was a lacto-ovo vegetarian for many years, until she got pregnant and we went to Paris for lunch; now, she’ll eat meat, but only from animals that she would kill with her own hands. My father’s wife will taste meat, but only very rarely, and even then with a whispered apology and a tear. And I’ve already told you how I made my eldest daughter cry over the young goat whose shanks I braised for dinner, but did I tell you that the same child gleefully clamors “Wilbur tastes good!”, whenever I serve bacon with her eggs?

    Pork belly biscuits with maple glaze and pickled onion is served at the Chalkboard Restaurant in Healdsburg on Tuesday, June 11, 2013. (Conner Jay/The Press Democrat)
    "Disembodied" frog steak

    It all makes me wonder what we mean when we say, “I’m a vegetarian”, or “I don’t eat meat”. Such statements are logically and morally complex, and force us to ask uncomfortable questions about the where and why of the lines we draw, about who and what we’re willing to watch die for our dinner. But what has been niggling me, ever since I read this post, is that I’m no longer sure what the word “vegetarian” even means, now that we have the technology to grow what amounts, at the cellular level, to meat without a body.

    That may sound bizarre, and it is, but it is not an abstraction, nor is it particularly new: A former resident at the Tissue Engineering & Organ Fabrication Laboratory at Harvard Medical School produced, in 2003, a disturbing work of technology and art dubbed the “victimless steak”, a hunk of animal protein grown in the lab and external to other living creatures. I’m not a biologist, and I can’t tell you that I fully understand the project – the authors refer to it by the very creepy and cryptic-sounding “disembodied cuisine” – but I do get the gist of it: The artists are asking us what it means to eat meat, what it means to be a victim of the food chain, perhaps no less than what it means to be “alive”.

    A few days ago, prior to reading that post on Envo, I’d have sided with my Shorter OED, Volume 2:

    Vegetarian, noun. A person who on principle abstains from animal food.

    Because, etymologically speaking, that seems clear enough. But now these characters at the Tissue Culture and Art Project at the University of Western Australia have gone and seriously messed with my head, and I’m really not sure what to think.

    $10 Tasting Tuesdays at Willi’s Wine Bar

    Not to be confused with Rohnert Park’s Tasty Tuesday food truck lineup, Willi’s Winebar is offering Tasting Tuesdays from 4-5pm. It’s a stellar deal: Top notch local winemakers pour several tastes of their wine and the kitchen whips up small bites from the menu for just $10. Plus, you get first dibs on the coveted outdoor patio. So, there’s that.

    Reservations are a good idea, since word is getting out fast…

    February 15: Ehren Jordan, Turley Wine Cellars and Failla Wines
    February 22: Nik Stez, Woodenhead Vintners
    March 1: Phil Staehle, Enkidu Wines
    March 8: Aaron & Jesse Inman, Romililly
    March 15: Cameron Frey, Ramey Wine Cellars
    March 22: Mike Sullivan, Benovia Winery
    March 29: Jesse Wurtzel, Jus Soli

    Reservations or additional information:
    Phone: 707.526.3096

    Full details at WillisWinebar.net.