My Hero

I was first introduced to Anthony Bourdain when I pondered a possible future as a chef with former roommate, pal and web-genius Mark Petrakis (aka: Spoonman for those of you in the 80's and 90's performance art scene). When I mentioned to Mark, who was also a former cook in a restaurant and who taught me about the frugal magic and majesty of caramelized onions---that I was contemplating a life as a chef, he recommended I read Anthony Bourdain's "Kitchen Confidential".

Being a little afraid of encountering what would amount to a devastation of my master chef fantasies, I stayed away from Anthony Bourdain for five years, until 2004, after catching a bit of "A Cook's Tour" on the Food Network, I realized what I was missing.

Here's this big tall gorgeous guy, serious chef and rabid food writer. His humor had a familiar ring--kind of what my dad, also a cook, would have been if he was raised in Jersey--earthy and irreverent. Catching those brief minutes late at night (Food Network was terrified of Bourdain's outrageousness), I was howling with laughter watching the nation's recipe channel.

A total snarked up foodie. How did this guy make it to national television? But make it, he did, and "No Reservations" is a ritual rush home from work to catch Tony's premiere episode on Monday nights. Thank God, rush hour traffic is light on Mondays in the Bay Area.

Anthony Bourdain has his heart in the right place. He appreciates, respect and emanates a wry enjoyment of all cultures. After being one for most his life, he's got respect for the working man, and certainly reverence for foods and recipes with humble beginnings. He comes to us from a beautifully poignant place, a man in his prime, from a hard-working life in the grueling position of chef. As a cook's daughter, I know what that life was like. That experience makes him cocky and wise, as well as very very grounded. I envy his ability to chronicle his travels with writing skills that are blazingly sharp and loving at the same time.

So today, on Labor Day, I am watching another "No Reservations" marathon in preparation to say adieu to yet another stellar season of first-run episodes. Tony reminds me that loving food is loving life and all its moments. Even if you have to heave up chunks after a bit too much of life. But only he can talk about that, and we who love Tony around the world, appreciate his sacrifice.

An Ode to Love

In honor of new love, past love and the hope for future love...

Molten Chocolate Cakes

1/4 cup sugar
2 Tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
2 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped (or chips)
1/4 cup unsalted butter, in small chunks
2 large egg yolks
1 large egg
2 tsp all purpose flour

Frozen fruit you have on hand (I prefer blackberries, raspberries or strawberries)
Powdered sugar
Preheat oven to 350 F

Blend cocoa and sugar. In a double boiler, melt chocolate and butter over low heat, and stir smooth. Remove from heat and whisk in cocoa mixture. Whisk in egg yolks, then whole egg and flour. Butter and dust wuth cocoa, two, 3/4-cup ramekins or custard cups (or even 3 extra large muffin tins) and divide batter into them evenly, leaving a little room to rise. Push in 1-3 pieces of frozen fruit for a "surprise" in the center.

In 350 F oven, bake for about 22 minutes in a water bath (water bath optional, but ensures that the cakes don't bake all the way through, keeping them "molten"). The edges should be set, with the center still shiny. tester inserted in center should come out with wet batter.

Cut around the cakes to loosen and invert onto plates. Garnish with powdered sugar and/or fruit (warmed and lightly sugared) or fruit sauce (usually with a hint of liquer).

These cakes brought us to our knees in ecstasy upon first bite. Those minutes of spontaneous, inexplicable laughter...those were moments of love. May new Love and future Love give us the same pleasure, and evoke the same reaction.

May new Love and future Love melt us from the inside, turn us molten like these cakes, so that when our inner warmth is spilled out upon Love as he first tastes it, he may also be brought to his knees in laughter.

May we all be laughing on our kitchen floors for a very long time, in Love....

A Question

Do You Choose Love or Does Love Choose You?
I continue to ask
What it is that draws me to you.
I had no idea, and even then it was just a whisper.
A seed was planted in my dumb ground.
No belief in sincerity.
But then my eyes opened and I began to see you.
You look at me, peeling bark away, exposing tender skin.
For the first time, unlike all the ones who’ve tried and failed,
I let you in. And you succeed.
You’re probably going to doubt everything I’ve just written
And push me off, with a bear’s grunt
But you ought to know
The flame that was lit that day you first kissed me
Illuminated a once dark room in my heart
and it grows brighter each passing day.
I finally for the first time have come to believe
That Love does indeed choose you.
And I choose you. Because I need you
Like the world needs spring.

Welcome to the World, Elizabeth

A new baby has entered our family circle today. Her name is Elizabeth Rose. Today, on her first official breathing in of the air of the planet, I dedicate this prayer to Elizabeth's first day on earth.

Elizabeth, may you always know that warm hands will hold you, strong and steady people will be there to pull you up if you fall, help you take your first steps, give you your first bites of sweetness, and teach you how to look up and out into the world. Perhaps at the stars.

You'll know the sound of your grandmother's, grandfather's and great-grandmother's and great-grandfather's laughter. You'll feel their kisses, and their joy in holding you in their arms.

You'll sense the bright sharp wind cooling the summer heat as you race across the lake in a summer that feels like spring. You will learn how to swim across that lake and become part of an even larger circle of family, friends, and generations older than your great grandmother.

You will overeat at least one perfectly made cherry pie. You will not be able to enumerate the number of lumpias you will eat. You will have at least one bite of great grampa's trifle, and maybe, if you're lucky, Felicia will teach you how to bake cookies. You might even win a prize doing so.

All these sweet pleasures of the world are immediately available. And you will dream. Of flowers, birds, sunlight and fishes. You will imagine incredible things, and one day, do them all. You will make your own dreams come true. And remember, more than anything, know that you are welcome in this, our world.

Glad to have you here at last.

Prelude to Pantry Zero

It has been too long since I have written. It has been too long since I have been truly inspired and moved to write about food (how so so sad). But now, I find myself in a very strange state that I have never NEVER experienced in my life, having grown up (as my mom and aunt did) with a promise of family, education and food--I find myself alone in a temporary apartment far from home, and what's more, in an apartment devoid of food. An EMPTY pantry. And I have arrived at this befuddling state in a very interesting moment in my life.

I drove down to Los Angeles (six and a half long hours to drive with only the company of the radio) on Sunday. The Friday before that my family was evacuated from our house because of fires burning their way towards us. As my grandmother with a broken leg, my mom (surprisingly hysterical) and I packed our things (my grandfather, dad and brother were all gone) I was in "stay calm" mode, not thinking about the possibility that I could be leaving my childhood home for the very last time. That very sobering thought hit me as I ate dinner in my best friend's house (her family, bless them, took us in). It was possible that I would never prepare another meal in the kitchen where I learned how to cook (that first batch of chocolate chip cookies). Did I save the right things? What would I miss? I looked at my small collection of things deemed worthy of being saved--family photos and videos, my brother's artwork (saved on his computer), important documents (all in a fire box anyway), some of Grammy's valuable paintings...that's about it. Everything else is replaceable--even expendable--luxuries. (But, thank goodness, my house was fine (the fires were contained under 1/4 mile of dry grass away from our property) and I didn't have to face that reality....)

This brings me to my point. We don't really need much. In life, and (let's connect this to our pantry problem) in the kitchen. So I've been in my empty temp apartment, no furniture, no power (a problem that had better get fixed soon or my building's manager is going to get yet another earful), and no food, for 4 days now. And while the whole no power thing is more extreme than necessary, this very simplified existence has really put some of life into perspective for me. At first I was frustrated and frazzled (not helped by the lingering shock left by the fires) by not having these comforts of living. But now I'm finding peace in it. And with no fridge or snacks lying around (and not enough cash to be willing to eat out all the time) I'm really rethinking my relationship with food.

There are some different dogmas about food that I have been grappling with. I have been raised to enjoy food, not only to nurture my body but to fill and comfort my soul as well. Then there's the idea introduced to me by a very influential teacher/mentor in high school, that we should "not live to eat, but eat to live." I like both seemingly contradictory views, and haven't been able to find a marriage of the two. Now, as I stare at this empty pantry, I see a perfect opportunity to do just that. Find a balance. Work in the opposite direction from my Auntie Fe. I want to fill my new home with essentials. Food that is versatile and healthy and satisfying for my body and soul, but not so extravagant that I feel like food is something to live for, or invest my happiness (and money) in. I can build a pantry that will keep me far from needing a "Pantry Zero" operation.



I’ve started with good whole wheat bread, organic peanut butter and local honey from the farmer’s market (all these things don't need a fridge and are amazingly comforting and nutritious--whole wheat + legume = a complete protein!). When I get more settled in my permanent apartment (the lease starts in July) and finally get power and fridge, I plan to start slow and simple. Here are the essentials that will be the first things to hit those shelves:

Brown rice
Beans
Flour
Pasta
Basic spices
Good olive oil or vegetable oil
Whole wheat bread

With some fresh produce there is so much that can be done with these simple ingredients. And so my new apartment resolution is this: to live as simply as I can, because the parts of life that are out of my control (like fires) are complicated enough as it is.

Ruthie's Challenge - Part 1

Since "Pantry Zero" was initiated, I haven't had time to blog here until today, having obsessed completely over the last month on who should be the next President of the United States. So now, that has passed, he's in, we can continue our pursuit of innovative tastes, familiar ground, and chic and tasty gustatory frugality.

Which brings me to Ruthie's Challenge. Everyone, I hope you all remember Ruthie, my office spouse (please, I know its the San Francisco Bay Area, but I'm straight and she's a hetero-married mother of two).

Ruthie has been so motivated by Pantry Zero that she's personally challenged me, due to a completely unrelated turn of events, to a Pantry-inspired meal. It seems that the shelves in her pantry are getting replaced and that has caused huge displacement and an exciting discovery for the Simon Family.

She's got jars. Not only that, unopened, hermetically SEALED jars of fancy stuff that she's dying to try now that she's remembered she has them.

So Pantry Challenge #1 - Hoisin Sauce

My response:

Hoisin Chicken

Chicken thighs and wings
salt and pepper to taste
sesame seeds or chopped scallions
Hoisin Sauce

Preheat over to 375 degrees. Sprinkle salt and pepper onto uncooked chicken pieces. Put thighs in preheated oven first (they need a minimum 45 minutes to cook), followed by the wings eight minutes later. At the last fifteen minutes of cooking, brush hoisin sauce on the chicken parts and continue roasting. (If you want a crispier, more caramelized glaze, turn up the oven by another 25 degrees).

Remove from oven and sprinkle with sesame seeds or finely chopped scallions.

And please, if anyone of you has a Home Depot installation contractor who is replacing your pantry shelves and YOU find some forgotten and hidden gems lying in wait in YOUR pantry, do not hesitate to post a challenge here.

If You Haven't Heard by Now (Pantry Zero - Part 2)

We're in for something we haven't seen for a while. As Pantry Zero below suggests, I have been waking from a coma of living outside my means as a form of pure entertainment--for want of something better to do.

My confession: Most of my young life, given my cultural and familial background, food has been a comfort, a refuge for being unloved, unworthy, and a form of entertainment. This is the deep water under that bridge of my life.

At present for better or worse, food has been my escape from a sometimes disappointing world. Because of that, and my need to create some beauty to fill in the darkest gaps in this all too dark world, my love of family and extended family, a cellular habit to deeply explore the realms of the senses, and my desire to honor the inheritance of a family of good cooks, food is a very satisfying form of creative expression. Next to theater, it is one of the great passions of my life.

But the zeitgeist of the times indicates clearly--now is the time to dust off my ancestral values about living and eating and functioning in this world--and to create my own means of living within my means. And to do it fucking well. Alot is at stake.

Are we going to hold on selfishly to our way of living in order to continue greedily at the trough while others starve? Can we/I continue to drive our cars while the impact of it being on the road means someone does not eat for the day? Or, if we're using ethanol, driving our cars despite the fact whole countries will starve?

The larger heart of me--the heart that learned that love and generosity begins at the table and flows out into the community--is pained to see that the world we live in is imperiled by the selfishness of the few. We are consuming so much so fast and at such a high level that other parts of our shared planet are shrivelling and dying. Our use of resources for our entertainment, functioning, and, face it, luxury are depriving the very lifeblood of those who cannot begin to imagine the kind of standard of living we enjoy. We consume and others starve. Water, land, animals, air. Are there other ways we can exist so that others aren't harmed?

Special thanks to Milos Janus Outlook for their post at Daily Kos. Its a wake up call and inspiration.

More will come of this.