Page 609 – Sonoma Magazine

Back to School for Grown-ups

January 2011

By biteclub

So. I’ve done it. I’ve voluntarily chosen to subject myself to the pressure of getting a good grade in school – again. It’s not that I’ve never thought about going back to school; to the contrary, I know lots of people – many of whom I envy for it – who have gone back to school, some several times, for advanced degrees in fields wildly disparate from their previous careers (although who’s to say which, if any, careers remain unconnected anymore): I ride bikes with a guy who got his PhD in history and practices criminal law, chilled out after Levi’s Gran Fondo with a cyclist who practices medicine and has several PhDs (clearly, cyclists have too much time on their hands…), and married an expert in Former Soviet & Russian studies, with an MBA from Yale, who now practices full-time motherhood and runs her own dance school here in town…

But I never took that plunge, not since I extracted myself, sheepishly AbD, from the doctoral program in which I enrolled straight out of college (if taking 5 years to graduate can properly be considered “straight”). At least, not until last week, when I cleared the wait-list for this continuing-ed course in Web writing. The downside, quite obviously, is that I have to do the work (in a fit of masochism – or, perhaps, in recognition of my vacuous self-discipline – I’m taking it for credit, with a letter grade to boot); the upside, on the other hand, is that you may end up reading a better piece of writing and, in the meantime, that I get lots of freebie material, because I get to write to you about learning how to write to you.

Herewith, my first bit of homework: Find a couple of significant blogs in my chosen space, and review them. I’m not suggesting that you’ll necessarily enjoy reading my homework per se, but you may well enjoy these talented food bloggers’ work…

Two Must-Read Food Blogs

Precisely because I’m trying to write this very food and wine blog, I take both a personal and professional interest in other food blogs, particularly the successful ones and most particularly the successful ones that I think don’t suck, not least because I’ve still got a PageRank of identically zero, and they don’t. Two sites that hurdle this bar without breaking a sweat are Orangette and mattbites: Yes, they’re really big, successful sites (solidly amongst the Global Top 50, Google PageRanks of 6 per), but they’re also, and not coincidentally, well-written, beautifully photographed (this, in particular, differentiates them), and thoroughly engaging blogs; ergo, they don’t suck, and they’re worth reading.

Orangette

Prior to engaging in this review, Orangette was not, truth be told, the sort of thing I normally read, although not for the obvious reasons: She’s as as serious as the business end of a knife about her food, her prose is exceptionally clean and well composed, and her photography – entirely self-taught, as far as I know – is good enough to make you begrudge her lucky draw in the talent lottery. While that all matters, it is, I believe, somewhat peripheral to her phenomenal success, because surely food porn alone is insufficient to inspire millions of people to bother reading what someone has to say about their own, largely normal, life. No, I can only imagine that people read her because they feel like they know her, and the more they know her, the more they like her, and how could they not? This is a person who writes in such a disarmingly personal way, with such candor and warmth, that you feel like she’s writing just for you. I even get this sense from her bio pic:

Seriously, who picks that particular picture – half-smiling, possibly but by no means definitively showered, looking you straight in the eye with a nearly perceptible twinkle – unless that really is who they are, and unless they truly want you to know it? Check out her About page: This is a person who managed to find marriage through her online musings (she explains this inconceivable breach of Web security in some detail, although I still can’t shake my initial impression of a vague creepiness…). My guess is, cooking and pictures aside, Molly could produce a reasonably successful site if all she did was write randomly about her life because, as a reader, she makes you feel a part of it, and all of us – online or not – want to share another person’s life. That she is a talented writer, photographer, and, by all accounts, cooks her butt off… Well, I guess that’s why Orangette is what it is.

mattbites

I’ve been reading Matt’s blog for a little while now. In addition to publishing a highly successful blog,
Matt is somewhat unique in that his name is “Matt” and that he is a “he” in what has thus far evolved into an industry primarily defined by women. (I’m still puzzling over why this should be: Celebrity chefdom, outside of the Web, remains disproportionately populated by men; so, too, the making of – and for that matter, blogging about – wine; but the heavy hitters in the corner of the blogosphere reserved specifically for food are, by and large, women. I’m tempted to speculate that we’ve always had this vast, untapped pool of female talent in food and wine – perhaps all the larger for its under-representation in professional kitchens – and that the Internet has unlocked the floodgates; or perhaps it’s just a natural selection bias, inherited from the empirical composition of the food-blog readership; or perhaps – like Molly of Orangette – women are just inherently better at opening their digital kimonos, more effective at making personal connections over fiber optic cables and WiFi, than men… But, I digress.)

Matt is a professional photographer and graphic designer, and his site struts past you in a visual panoply of foods you want to eat, beaches you want to visit, and frosty bottles of beer bottles that I, for one, want to drink on one of those beaches. While I have no doubt that lots of folks go to mattbites just for the photos – they really are that good – the photos in and of themselves seem inadequate to explain a site visited by millions. Surely, part of the common theme is the ability to connect with the audience, and clearly, Matt is a personable and charismatic digital persona, but not really in the same way that Molly is. If to follow Orangette is to sit at Molly’s family’s table, then to follow Matt is to laugh together over beers; where Molly’s language is evocative, Matt’s is conversational; if Molly is a writer who happens to write about food, then Matt is a food photographer who happens to write.

I don’t know if that’s fair, but that’s my take, and the more I think about it, the more I wonder, just where, precisely, this guy’s mojo is at. I suspect a big part of it is humor: He may take food, travel and photography very seriously, but I think an important part of the attraction has to be his fun, easygoing, and often very funny disposition. For some – this is what I alluded to when I said earlier that it’s not the sort of thing I normally read – Orangette may be too personal, too emotional; but for those who still want to connect with the blogger’s life but are slightly discomfited by Orangette’s speed-dial to Molly’s soul, I’m guessing that mattbites, all flashy photos and clever one liners by a guy you’d like to be friends with, makes the top of their shortcut list.

*All photo credits: Orangette and mattbites, respectively.

Anh Linh | Santa Rosa

January 2011

By biteclub

Popular restaurateur Lee Wong of Lee’s Noodle House in Santa Rosa has opened a second restaurant, Anh Lihn at the intersection of Third Street and Dutton in the former Saigon Cuisine space.

Lee’s new restaurant serves up a laundry list of pho, spring rolls, stir fried veggies, egg and rice noodle dishes along with winter warmers like wonton soup. Don’t miss the Bo bia, a fresh roll with carrot, jicama and Chinese sausage.

And uh, don’t get too freaked out if you can’t read the Dracula font on the menu…it’s a bit confusing. Just point and smile.

320 W 3rd St # D, Santa Rosa.

Foods That Make Kids Cry

January 2011

By biteclub

A couple of nights ago, I made my eldest daughter cry. But not because of a pending time-out, a too-harsh rebuke, homework overload, or an imminent grounding. No, I made my daughter cry by feeding her dinner because, you see, I’m a passable home cook, but a very bad person, and the animal I cooked used to be Cute. Before you impugn the meal itself, I’ll readily admit that I’ve cooked any number of things worthy of tears over the years, including enough Chernobyl-ized toast, Super Ball eggs, and flaccid, soggy pasta to fill whole compost bins; even, on rare and precious occasions, a few rock-star successes. But Miss M doesn’t cry over burnt toast, she’s only ever wept for joy over truly faultless sushi (a sentiment of which I’m immeasurably proud), and this meal was neither. It was, in point of fact, quite a bit better than average, and that is where the problem started: Had the food been less tasty, the child would not have eaten it; and, not having eaten it, she would subsequently not have had to mourn its provenance.
My sin, the root of my bad-ness, and the reason my first-born child wept over her dinner is this: I cooked a young goat, presumably a cute one, for dinner (technically, I only cooked a couple of its shanks, but that’s a country mile wide of Miss M’s mark). I have since been informed, in no uncertain terms, that Cute Animals are not to be served as food in the presence of Miss M. This got me wondering, as both parent and cook: What qualifies certain animals as Cute – and, by extension, saves the very coursing of their blood – and not others?
With the the endearing certitude of a child, M patiently explained to me that which was already manifest to her: Goats, apparently, are Cute; so are sheep, and rabbits. Oh, and ducks, although not chickens. (She used to love – love – the smoked duck breast from Willie Bird, asking for it by name at the market, although she now flatly denies it.) Fish and seafood of all sorts – excepting mammals, of course – are of insufficient Cuteness to be spared the butcher’s wrath, and may be eaten without apology; so, too – and herein lies a puzzle within a puzzle – the humble cow, its super-sized doe eyes and gentle demeanor evidently inadequate to offset the appeal of a properly grilled steak.
Where, and why, do we draw these lines? My wife and I spent many years as vegetarians (of the lacto-ovo subspecies, to be precise), but have long since abandoned that particular ship in favor of what is – in our view at any rate, as I’m sure the animals would demur – a more holistic view of the food chain. For her part, my wife will now eat seafood, but not, to a close approximation, land animals; more specifically, she will eat what she is willing to kill with her own hands, which I take to be as reasonable a test as any of personal conviction. I, on the other hand, will eat just about anything, so long as I’m reasonably comfortable with how it lived, and died, before it made its way to my plate; I’m even OK with such PETA-verboten no-no’s as fois gras, veal, and all manner of cute animal, if I believe that that animal was treated humanely prior to its demise.
What about the rest of us? What triggers our moral self to rank the life of an animal over our prerogative to eat? Leather shoes and belts are OK; fur coats are not. Steak from the bovine Auschwitz of a modern CAFO is OK; veal, however raised, generally is not. Chickens are fine, but simians of any sort, clearly, are not. Cows and pigs are fine, but horses and dogs are not – at least if you’re a typical American, but not if you live in various parts of Asia. Kangaroo? That depends on the hemisphere in which you reside. According to one friend of ours, invertebrates are OK, but animals with more advanced nervous systems are not (I actually find that argument more intellectually coherent than most). And I’m sure we all know vegetarians who eat fish (don’t even get me started on contradictory etymology). Do I have to be hungry to kill an animal for food, or is it enough that it merely tastes good? Does a land animal deserve more respect than a sea creature, a turtle than a lobster, a young cow than an old cow? Why is it that the vast majority of us is quite happy to dine on flesh, and yet recoils at the thought of watching – much less participating in – the inevitable death that our dinner required? What is it about perceived Cuteness that differentiates goats and sheep from cows and pigs in the mind of my child?
For the avoidance of doubt, I am not on any sort of crusade, either for or against eating meat; while I have some strongly held personal opinions about the ethics of eating animals, I have very few satisfactory answers to most of these questions, and even fewer that I believe should be imposed on others. I am also genuinely curious about what my daughter thinks, and indeed about what drives most of us towards or away from the butcher’s case. My gut tells me that there is a lot more to be said about this, and that it’s worth talking about, but for now, I’ll leave it at this: Because I cannot bear to see my child cry (unless, of course, she has it coming, and sometimes not even then), I will not feed her any more Cute Animals. But I still want to know why.

Holla for $5 Burger Night

January 2011

By biteclub

$5 burger at GTO Seafood in Sebastopol

BiteClub’s all about the Hump Day hamburger. Because when you’re only halfway to Saturday, a $5 dinner deal is about the only thing that takes the edge off.

Two local spots jumping on the $5 burger night bandwagon:

– GTO Seafood: Wednesday nights are packed at Sebastopol’s local seafood house. And it isn’t just the cheap burgers bringing ’em in. In addition to $5 half-pound burgers (McNibs gives a hearty thumbs-up), the restaurant has happy hour all night long. For your fishy friends, a grilled or blackened cod sandwich for $7. Pony up for the New Orlean’s bread pudding with whisky sauce for dessert. So worth it. 234 South Main Street, Sebastopol, (707) 824-9922.

– Henweigh Cafe: I’m a big fan of this funky roadside eatery on the way to Forestville — though I don’t get a chance to stop by nearly as often as I’d like. From 5-8pm on Wednesday, the restaurant features it’s killer half-pounder for just a fiver. You’ll want to try their clam chowah, however, which is one of the best in the county, while you’re there. 4550 Gravenstein Hwy. North (Rt.116), Sebastopol, 829-7500.

Got any other favorite $5 burger night eats? Let me know!

Sauce Slut: A Glossy, Crimson, Zinfandel Reduction

January 2011

By biteclub

I confess, I’m a total sauce slut: My wife could legitimately accuse me of infidelity, if only she had thought to proscribe lustfully leering at the 5 mother sauces in our vows, and I might happily eat a shoe, if only it were first slathered with a demi-glace of sufficiently high quality.
I like, but almost never love, the more modern sauces based on fresh fruits and vegetables, requiring very little cooking, and immeasurably more healthy than their classic French antecedents; certainly, I use them, and certainly, they play a central role in modern cooking, but – for me – they will never evoke the depth of flavor, the sensual texture, the sheer emotion embedded in a tablespoon of something that began life 3 days earlier, in a stockpot the size of a Prius, and which took hundreds of person-hours and the valiant deaths of several animals to bring forth unto my dinner plate. And so, when I’m really in the mood to cook something soulful, I almost always try to finish it with a sauce worthy of the name, something rich and dense and redolent of luxury, something like what happens to the braising liquid from yesterday’s post, once it’s been strained, reduced, strained again, reduced again, and enriched (or monter au beurre, as the technique is known more formally) with butter from some nearby goats…
While I think the goat is a much more interesting option, particularly with the beets, I would not hesitate to make this with lamb (shanks or shoulder, say) or beef (shin, short ribs…).
Braised Goat Shanks with a Reduction of Zinfandel, Ancho Chili, and Beetroot (serves maybe 4)

Wipe off and dry the goat shanks, season liberally with salt and pepper, and sear them on all sides in a heavy, oven-proof pot that has a tight fitting lid for later (cast iron is great for this sort of thing); this will take around 10 minutes. You want good color on all the surfaces of the shanks, so use a pair of tongs to move them around and stand them on end and such. Preheat an oven to 275F.
While the shanks are cooking, prep a large carrot, a couple of celery sticks, and a medium onion into a couple of cups of mirepoix of roughly uniform, medium dice, along with a few whole, peeled cloves of garlic. Cut open, stem, and seed 1-3 large ancho chilies (1 will barely add any heat; 3 will be a bit spicy). Remove the shanks and caramelize the lot of it. If you want a really deep, dark braise, add some tomato paste – a few tablespoons – and caramelize that with the veggies, once the latter are soft; I did NOT do this, as I wanted a translucent sauce with the color of deep magenta of wine and beet.
Lay the shanks on top of the veggies, add a half-bottle of Zinfandel (nothing fancy, but something you’d drink without making a whiskey face), a few tablespoons of sherry vinegar, and then add stock (I used chicken, but veal or beef would be fine) until the liquids come most of the way up the sides of the meat (but not covering it). Toss 5 whole peppercorns and a few sprigs of thyme (you could add rosemary as well). Bring the pot up to a gentle simmer, cover, and put it in the oven. Set a timer for an hour.
Peel the beets and, if large, slice in halves or quarters. This is, you will be shouting, not how one is meant to prepare beets! And you’re right, but here’s the thing: The reason you never peel beets before you cook them is to avoid bleed; but I want them to bleed, because the beets are what gives the final sauce its incredible color.
After an hour, check the braise, adding water if its drying out, and nestle the beets in and around the shanks. Return to the oven for another hour – it will take at least an hour to cook the beets, and the meat should cook for 2-2.5 hours total.
Remove the pot from the oven, carefully reserve the shanks (wrap them in foil to keep the juices in), strain out the veggies, and then cook down the liquid until it begins to coat the back of a spoon, skimming excess fat and impurities as you go (you can use the same pot, because it will be strained again).
Once it has reduced – you want it pretty concentrated – restrain the sauce through a chinois lined with cheesecloth so that it is nearly clear of impurities. Return to a clean pan, reduce until it reaches a sticky nappe consistency, and mount the sauce with goat’s butter (unnecessary if you are using beef, but definitely worth it for goat or sheep’s meat).

*A short note on ingredients: You can find goat’s milk butter at Big John’s Market or The Cheese Shop, organic beets at Shelton’s, and young goat (seasonal, like lamb, twice yearly, in the fall and sprint) from the Owen Family Farm in Hopland (sorry, no website).

The Costco Report: Eating My (Cheesy) Words

January 2011

By biteclub

I received some criticism for yesterday’s post – some silly (“Why do you even shop at Costco?”), and some quite fair (“Maybe it’s uneconomic for smaller local dairies to supply Costco.”). I like to think that I can take it as well as I can dish it out and, while I sometimes like to play rough, I also like to play fair, so here’s my mea culpa de fromage: While I may decry my inability to source local cheeses from the Santa Rosa Costco, and while I may now have to drive further and pay more to procure some of my favorite products as a result, that is not necessarily any fault of the Big C.
Case-in-point: I just got off the phone with Linda, the delightful and very helpful national account manager over at Fiscalini Cheese, the producer of what I believe to be one of America’s finest cheddars as well as an exceptional smoked mozzarella (try it on pizza with spicy sausage and caramelized onions – outrageous), who took time out of her morning to set me straight on a few things:

Fiscalini often chooses, of their own accord, to restrict distribution to Costco due to capacity constraints and Fiscalini’s need to maintain a diversified distribution base.
Costco has always respected Fiscalini’s position and, when supply contracts have been negotiated, the economics have been fair and reasonable.

I also got to speak with Ken, the CEO of Redwood Hill (home to one of my favorite goat’s milk cheddars, which happens to be downright revelatory in my Custard Style Mac-N-Cheese, as well as a fantastic Camembert-style cheese called Camellia), who explained that their situation is a little different:

Their foray into the Costco cheese aisle was only ever intended to be a “pilot” program (Costco apparently does quite a bit of this “rotation”, by design). Ken also emphasized that the program was a great success in terms of sales, that Redwood Hill had the capacity to keep delivering, but when the program ended (after 3 months), that was simply that.
He also told me that he found the negotiation of the original deal to be fair and that he hoped to be on-board for another program in 2011, and at which point I’ll be stocking up on that ethereal goat’s milk cheddar.

Finally – if for no other reason than because I’d prefer not to be printing retractions all day long – I also rang the lovely Leah at Point Reyes Cheese (producer of what, with its salty tang and pitch-perfect balance between crumbly and creamy, has become my go-to bleu for salads and dressings) who again had a slightly different experience:

Point Reyes maintains a supply contract with Costco, has the capacity (and desire) to deliver whatever Costco orders, but remains at the mercy of Costco purchasing, and Costco purchasing has historically viewed the Point Reyes produce as a “seasonal specialty item” for the holidays.

I remain in mourning for their absence (yes, I know where I can buy all those cheeses, but I like to buy good local products and I like to be efficient about it), and I sincerely wish that Costco would procure a bit more from my local faves, but I still have to credit them for doing it at all, and I certainly have to admit that my implicit characterization of the big, bad retailer abandoning the small, downtrodden supplier simply wasn’t fair. There, I said it.

Sift wins Cupcake Wars!

January 2011

By biteclub

winningcupcakes — Winning cupcakes from the Food Network

Their cupcakes runneth over: Sift Cupcake and Dessert Bar took home the big win last night on the Food Network’s Cupcake Wars with owner Andrea Ballus’ (recipe) Raspberry Cupcake with Champagne Butter Cream Frosting. Ballus competed against three other bakers for the win and takes home a $10,000 grand prize.

Ballus, who has three cupcake and dessert bakeries in Sonoma and Napa (downtown Napa, Cotati and Santa Rosa), focused on a Wine Country theme for her winning cupcakes which included the popular pink champagne cupcake, a ginger and gingerbread cupcake with zinfandel frosting and a version of their Samoa cupcake with a caramel center.

She plans to use the winnings to get her first mobile cupcake unit on the streets.

From Judge Candace Nelson, founder of Sprinkle’s Cupcakes: “Andrea’s (cupcakes) screamed outdoor wedding and rustic Wine Country elegance. Florian, Mindy and I had to deliberate for longer than normal, but in the end, the lush colors and personalized cupcakes as well as her consistent theme throughout the day meant Andrea was the winner!”

The Sift crew celebrated with a party and big screen viewing at Toad in the Hole and plenty of buttercream treats. See the photos of the event on ShopSoCo.com. Their Facebook page is bursting with congratulations.

Ballus’ bakery recently changed its cupcake focus to a dessert bar, adding whoopee pies, profiteroles, ice cream sandwiches, cupcake truffles and frosting shots to their menu.

Says Ballus: “From the moment we first saw Cupcake Wars we knew that the Sift team had what it takes to frost our way to the top. Baking has always been a passion of mine and now it is so much more. During the show, the competition was intense, but in the end our creativity, dedication, and talent paid off. We couldn’t have done this without the support from our team, family, and, the best fans ever: I would like to thank them all. Turns out victory is indeed sweet.”

Share your congratulations!

Shabu Shabu at Hana

January 2011

By biteclub

Sushi fondue? Well, sort of.

Shabu-shabu, which is as fun to say as it is to eat, is a Japanese hot pot. Like Chinese or Korean versions, it’s little more than a bowl of broth brought to the table roiling, bubbling and generally threatening to instantaneously melt anything that gets within a foot of it.

With a sputtering flame beneath to maintain a constant level of molten-ness, the pot becomes a DIY meat cooker with a personal thermostat. Thin slices of meat (usually beef) are given a brief swish through the liquid — the sound of that swish lending itself to the dish’s name — then dunked in sauce for a few seconds or more and eaten tongue-searingly hot.

Like fondue, shabu-shabu is best celebrated as a communal event with one, two or a crowd — everyone taking turns at the pot, then fishing out the bits and pieces left behind. The more gets left behind, the better the flavor of the broth, though no one really eats the broth by itself.

Almost unheard of in the North Bay, Hana Japanese (101 Golf Course Drive, Rohnert Park, 586-0270) recently introduced a seafood version to their ososume dinner menu (though you can sometimes get it at lunch). The dish arrives sputtering with a blue flame beneath and several slices of raw whitefish, hamachi and scallops that meet their fate in the sake-infused broth. Sesame and soy-ponzu sauces, along with a nip of chili, lemon or green onion are set out to garnish each bite.

My impatient version is more warmed sashimi than bouillabaise — because it seems almost tragic to cook a piece of fish this perfect. But that’s exactly the fun of this multicultural dish usually found in touristy spots around Tokyo — a dish steeped, but not especially in Japanese culture.

Eventually the flame flickers out, the broth goes tepid and the last bites of fish, tofu and mushrooms are plucked from the bowl. Swish, swish. It’s the last chance to knock that piece off your partners fork and demand a kiss, according to fondue tradition. Or, well, at least another round of sake.

Do you shabu shabu?

A Rainy-Day Braise: Ancho Chilis, Zinfandel, and Beets

January 2011

By biteclub

I think this is a killer one-pot dish for a dank, inclement night although, in point of fact, I’m cheating, because neither beets, nor my protein of choice – young goat shanks, from the Owen Family Farm up in Hopland – are technically in season right now. But the mild heat and smoky undertone from the chilies, together with the spicy-sweet peppery jam of the wine, seemed a natural bedfellow for the dense, rich, and slightly gamy flavors of the goat (I find it similar to mild, young lamb), and patiently stewed comfort foods always have a seat at the proximal winter table (e.g., check out the Gospel of Braising posted here).
You’d be right to question the beets: Typically a late-summer/early-fall crop and not, insofar as I can tell, a classic pairing for goat shanks. (Then again, I thumbed through at least a dozen classic cookbooks without securing a single recipe for goat, so maybe beets would be a classic match, if only more people bothered to eat goat?) But our local natural foods store had several kinds of fresh, organic beetroots in stock (the classic Bull’s Blood, Golden, and – although they claimed Chioggia – what looked to be Candy Cane to me), with smooth skin, skinny little rat’s tails, and excitable, bright green leafy afros, all of which signify a good beet, and got me thinking: With their mysterious amalgamation of sweetness and earth, beets have always made for an irreproachable date with goat’s milk cheeses, and the uniquely goat-y flavor of goat’s milk very much reflects the flavor profile of its parents, so why not put beets and goat in a single pot? In my experience, “why not” precedes unmitigated disaster at least as often as it does revelatory success, but, like a partially broken clock awaiting the sweep of its working hand, sometimes things just line up right.
As far as the rest of it goes, it’s all pretty basic, and based on the same essential techniques I always use when braising (e.g., the post above, or here); the only curve ball, aside from the beets, is the ancho chili, which I love to use for the mild heat, rich color, and sweet-smoky undertones which they add when stewed. Unless you count the goat itself, which you probably should, and which I highly recommend if you have a goat rancher in the ‘hood, but I think this dish would be just as successful – different, and perhaps less interesting, but successful – with beef or lamb. Recipe and technique to follow in tomorrow’s post.

Favorite Churros and Hot Chocolate?

January 2011

By biteclub