Bourdain intersperses stories from his culinary life with essays (read: rants) on the restaurant business. His descriptions of kitchen life and the patois of kitchen crews are hilarious, and reminded me of the insane chefs, restaurant owners, and kitchen minions who are near and dear to my own heart. The book would have been better as an actual memoir (with the essays published separately), but the somewhat random structure didn't ruin the read. Although Bourdain can come off as a blowhard, it's clear that he is also thoughtful, introspective, and genuinely, sometimes hazardously, curious. Curiosity rates high on my list of admirable qualities. I'll be keeping an eye out for his other titles.
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Most of my favorite cooks belong to my parents’ generation. It makes sense---even if you do go to culinary school, learning to cook is a trial-and-error process, and so of course older cooks are going to have more impressive arsenals of tricks. Rachel Mercer, who is around my age, is an exception to this rule. Not only is she a creative, knowledgeable cook, but she has a culinary philosophy that rings true with me. She has an appreciation for and knowledge of fine ingredients, but she’s not a snob. She has an incredible depth of knowledge about the wine industry, but she’s doesn’t necessarily equate good with expensive. When Rachel comes to visit, she always brings interesting food or wine—a batch of freshly made scones, a platter of obscure and wondrous cheeses, ingredients for stir fry, or an excellent cava (make that several bottles—I don’t think Rachel has ever arrived on my door step without several bottles of wine). I’m making it sound as though I just like Rachel because she brings me stuff, but I’m trying to get at something deeper—I see food as a kind of communion. Consuming (and appreciating) truly delicious food and drink with friends and potential friends is my way of celebrating being alive. Rachel, with her culinary adventurism and generosity, makes that happen. When she’s not busy catering, pontificating on wine, teaching wine and cheese classes, baking bread for a local tasting room in Eastern Washington, making cool jewelry, or getting in ongoing arguments about history with her friends (ahem), Rachel works on her nascent business: raising sheep and making artisan cheeses. In the following interview, she shares cooking secrets and talks about her master plans. When did you start cooking and why? I don't remember. When I was a kid--and I mean perhaps as young as four--I'd play restaurant with my parents. If they were gone I'd set up a menu for them, and set the table. It was always a set menu (and probably something along the lines of hot dogs and grilled cheese). I was really young when I started doing that; so I know that my mother let me use the stove at a very young age. I also was a very, very picky eater as a child. As I grew up, I figured out that I'm a super-taster (thanks biology class!), so that might have had something to do with being picky? I could taste things really well...also had a keen sense of smell. Regardless, I was picky (ironic since I'm not picky now) and my mother's attitude was "you don't eat it, fix something yourself". We were not a family of TV dinners or even a microwave for a large part of my early childhood. Therefore, 'fixing' something usually meant that it did need to be cooked. Did someone teach you how to cook? My mom. But I don't recall 'cooking lessons'. I'd watch and duplicate, later. My mom is an amazing cook, it should be noted. We lived in the middle of nowhere, miles from any city, and I grew up eating stir-fry and curries. Which is somewhat typical these days, but this was atypical when I was growing up. Most kids had no idea what a wok was, let alone vindaloo. My parents had been part of the beatnik house boat generation in Seattle and had learned to cook 'exotic food' with their crazy friends. My mother took those skills back to the desert and could whip up amazing dishes. The biggest lesson I learned from her (whether this was taught or just learned by watching) was the ability to really understand flavors. Because of the distance to town, if we were short on an ingredient (or more often the case--no access to the exotic ingredient in the first place) she knew something to substitute. Always. Still does. Who or what has influenced your cooking the most? Hard to say, but I think where I live. I've noticed changes in my cooking styles as well as in my food, depending on where I live. And with each move I've become a better cook, thanks to these influences. I think because I grew up watching a great cook (my mom), I can't help but watch other cooks and seek them out no matter where I live. The two key places being Singapore and Austin. In Singapore I learned A LOT for lots of reasons...but it's a city of really good street food. And all kinds: Chinese, Indian, Malay, Thai. In Austin, I was working and living around brilliant chefs (executive chefs who graduated top of their classes at NY and London Cordon Bleu). We all threw elaborate house parties, and it was always a comforting environment. Austin's a southern foodie town. People are really into food (whether it's barbecue or classically trained French cooking), but it's the south. They're really excited about food, any food, and want to share the food and the knowledge of how to cook the food with everyone and anyone. There's little of that snootiness that I've seen in other food towns. Can you tell me a little about your professional history with foods and beverages? When I moved to Singapore, I ended up getting various jobs, including cooking for a family. They paid me a ridiculous amount of money to cook for them. I wasn't making anything fancy, but they missed 'American' cooking, and I could make food that the kids actually liked to eat (even the vegetables). I liked that job. A lot. It also amazed me that someone would PAY me to cook for them. What a concept. It took me a few years to actively seek out more work in this industry. I ended up working for a winery in Wenatchee, WA. My parents had a winery in the early, active, years of the WA state wine industry. (The industry goes back to the late 1800s here, but it took about a century for a real wine culture to develop.) I knew wine, liked wine, but also knew it to be heart-breaking industry so I had avoided it until that point. Since then I've had various jobs in the food and beverage business. Worked for a few other wineries (everything from winery management to just harvesting grapes and working crush), managed a wine bar in a grocery store (best idea...who doesn't want to shop with a glass of wine?), and now I'm trying to do more with cooking--I'm the summer cook for a local winery while working with a friend catering. What is your favorite dish to cook? I don't think I have 'a dish' but more of a genre. I love cooking soups for people; they're comfort food, tend to be really forgiving (so if you forget something, add too much of something else, want to chat with your guest more...), and a lot of people don't love soup the way my family does. There are a lot of really horrible soups out there, and I usually never order soup when eating out (unless, of course it's pho or Korean or laksa), because I'm more disappointed than not. But that's why I like to make soup. I make really good soup, and I like to surprise people with how good soups are. I often force them on entire groups of unsuspecting patrons. Can you share some favorite strategies or culinary secrets? Boil firm tofu. In fact, boil the hell out of it; then stir-fry it or add it to your soups, etc. What are your favorite tools or pieces of equipment? Cast iron skillet & dutch oven. The non-enamel kind. I don't know how many one-pot dishes I've made in my trusty skillet--and you can take it camping with you or use it as a weapon. When you feel a dish needs a little something extra, what are your go to spices/ingredients? Fish sauce. I put it in everything--it's salty and savory and very useful outside of Asian dishes. But I also love spice--so a dash or 5 of chili sauce/powder is nice. I also find myself stuck on certain specific herbs. Right now? Cardamom and thyme. At one point I'm fairly certain I was addicted to nutmeg (it's great on roasted chicken thighs!). Any culinary pet peeves? Food snobs. Oh, and fucking prime rib. Everyone wants prime rib when you're catering a meal. It's not THAT good and it's freaking expensive....when I could do a barbecue braised brisket, or slow roast a cheaper cut of roast in a thick sauce of wine and onions--that'd taste better as a catered meal (prime rib is often cold by the time it's served to everyone), and save you that cash. If I have to cook one more prime rib and salmon meal... Any words of wisdom on the wine front? Nothing specific....but it's in our (the consumers) favor right now. There's a lot of wine out there; too much wine. I suspect there will be a fairly major shift in the industry in the next four years...The consumer probably won't notice it a whole lot besides more affordable wines. And as a rule, don't listen to wine critics--besides me. Oh, and if you've lost your taste for white wine--start working on developing it again. That'll be the new trend, and I'm excited for good, interesting white wines to take the spotlight. Making white wine is a lot more difficult than making red wine, and it's time that good white wine makers got their moment in the sun. Any interesting wine/food discoveries/obsessions of late? I just went to Taste Washington in Seattle and there were a fair number of hard cider producers there--most of them really good. One cider house made a champagne style cider (with champagne yeast) that I loved-- www.finnriver.com . What are your culinary/business goals? I have more than a few. But the two biggest ones are to complete a vegetarian/carnivore comic adventure story cookbook that I've started with my vegetarian friend, Michele, and to make farmstead cheese (with milk from my sheep). What is your most indispensable ingredient? Salt and pepper. Probably why I love fish sauce so much (it's salty). But I don't know how many times I've thought "this dish needs something extra" and before I start adding in exotic curries or smoked paprika or Tapatio...I just salt and pepper the dish and--bingo. That's it. I think that because we've had this (much needed) foodie revolution in America we forget how to use more traditional spices. Less is more, often. If you could cook dinner for one person living or dead, who would it be? And why? Oh man....I can think of a bunch of dead people I'd love to cook for (Thomas Jefferson being a the front of that list) but...I have a hard time with these kinds of questions. Because, let's face it. It's completely theoretical, yet I can't help but think about it as if it'd really happen. I'm female and a cook...so I get to cook for some famous dead guy. That'd be the end of the story. In ye olden days cooks were not praised for their food--the master of the house was praised for the food. Not that I’d like to be praised, so much as sit down and break bread with him...But that wouldn't happen. So a living person I'd like to cook for? Anthony Bourdain because I may or may not have had a crush on him for the past 12 or so years and I love how he loves food...and drinks. I think we'd have fun drinking together, if not stuffing our faces while we're at it. You can read some of Rachel's recipes here. Today OCD and Candy and I were downtown for gelato, but got waylaid by waffles. From the outside, Sweet Iron looks like a swanky nightclub. Inside, everything is so clean and shiny and streamlined that we at first suspected it might be a chain (we asked, and it's not). I'm not a fan of the aesthetics of swanky nightclubs or slick corporate cafes, but I am a fan of Sweet Iron's delicious Belgium waffles.
It's immediately clear that a lot of thought has gone into these waffles. We tried a special, The Prosciutto, which was drizzled in crème fraiche, piled high with chopped prosciutto, and garnished with minced green onions. Being a fan of salty meats and rich dairy products, I assumed that the garnishes would demand most of my attention, but surprisingly, the waffle itself took center stage. Thick and dense, Sweet Iron waffles have a pleasing texture that is accentuated by the light crunch of caramelized pearled sugar (imported from Belgium). Definitely a meal in itself, and a good deal at 5.99, especially when you consider that Sweet Iron uses fresh ingredients and buys local and organic when possible. I also sampled the Ice Cream Waffle, which was topped with a veritable ice cream sundae, including Lopez Island Creamery ice cream, delicate whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and sour cherry compote. For 5.99 you get ice cream, and a meal-sized waffle. I’m definitely down with the idea of eating a meal that also happens to include ice cream and whipped cream. We didn’t try the Classic Waffle, but it’s only 2.99 and you can get its chocolate dipped brethren for 3.49. I will be returning. Also, I’m probably selling the aesthetics of the joint short—I should mention that it has nice high ceilings and there were fresh yellow and red tulips on each table. You can read The Stranger’s interview with the owners here. I am not a chocolate person. Which isn't to say that I don't consume chocolate. I often have a piece of chocolate after dinner, I enjoy a mocha now and then, and my favorite Gelato is definitely the Aztec Chocolate at Royal Grinders in Fremont. But in the realm of the chocolate fanatic, this is nothing. I have never used the word 'orgasmic' to describe chocolate, and I certainly would not (for various reasons) use the word 'chocoholic' to describe myself. I have friends who could compose symphonies about Cadbury mini eggs and a roommate who eschews bars that aren't 'at least 85% cacao'. These people are serious about chocolate. I am not. I eat chocolate lackadaisically, if someone happens to put it in front of me.
Which is exactly why I bit into a CoconutMacaroon Dark Chocolate Truffle Bar, a thank you gift from my ridiculously thoughtful friend Jill. Evidently her thoughtfulness goes deep. This was, without question, the most delicious chocolate bar I have ever eaten. I usually find coconut candies to be a bit woody, but the coconut in question was whipped into the chocolate to create a dark, silky consistency that, in my humble non-expert opinion, is the next best thing to sliding between satin sheets in the tropical cabana of your dreams. And the bright crunches of sea salt expertly extend my metaphor. Seriously. Eat it. I didn't grow up eating beef stew (it wasn't exotic enough for my Dad's tastes), but I've developed a liking for it in my advanced old age, and I've been perfecting this recipe for awhile. I get a great deal on quality stew meat from my butcher in Pike Place market, and I vary the included vegetables depending on the season. Adding vegetables such as carrots and celery twice during the cooking process (once at the outset, and again 15 minutes before serving) gives the dish a more complex flavor and texture: the long-cooked vegetables thicken the consistency and provide a mellow base note; the vegetables tossed in toward the finish give fresh bursts of color, crunch, and flavor. (Adding cabbage, greens, carrots, and celery 15 minutes before serving also ups the stew's nutritional content.) Naturally (and this is the great thing about stews, I think) the ingredients can be varied or minimized, depending on what you have on hand. I generally cook the day before serving (as described below). It's not necessary (obviously), but it definitely improves the flavor.
You will need: 3+ quarts of stock or water 2 lbs of beef stew meat 1/2 cup of flour 3 tablespoons of olive oil or bacon grease 1/8 cup of wine (both red and white work; sherry is also good) 1 onion (coarsely chopped) 1/2 leek (green and white portions, chopped) (optional) 1 tablespoon of fresh garlic or onion chives (chopped) (optional) 5 cloves of garlic (chopped) 2 turnips (chopped) 3-4 potatoes (chopped) 3 stalks of celery (diced) 3-4 mushrooms (chopped) (optional) 2 carrots (diced) 1 tomato (when in season) 1 cup of seasonal greens such as kale (optional) 1/4 cup of cabbage (optional) 1/2 cup of corn (fresh or frozen) 1/4 cup of parsley (diced) 1/2 serrano chile (optional) 2 teaspoons of Marjoram 3 teaspoons of smoked paprika (regular paprika will do, but smoked is better) 2 teaspoons of coarse black pepper sea salt to taste Serves 6 1. Mix flour, 1 teaspoon of pepper, 1 teaspoon of paprika, and salt in a bowl. 2. Dredge stew meat in mixture. 3. Heat olive oil or bacon grease in a large pot (preferably cast iron). 4. Brown meat in oil. 5. Temporarily remove meat. 6. Add the onion, leeks, potatoes, thyme, salt, chile, the rest of the paprika and pepper, 1 tablespoon of stock or water, and wine. 7. Cook until the onions are translucent. 8. Add corn, 1 carrot, 1 stalk of celery, Marjoram, garlic, turnips, and mushrooms. 9. Add the rest of the stock or water and bring to a boil. 10. Add browned meat. Turn down to simmer and cook for 3-6 hours. 11. Turn off and allow to sit, preferably over night. (optional) 12. Resume cooking for 40 minutes. 13. Add cabbage, greens, parsley, chives, and the remaining celery and carrots. 14. Simmer for 15 minutes. 15. Salt to taste. Serve. (It's good with grated sharp cheddar or Parmesan or both.) |
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