Kitchen Wench

I haven’t posted in a while because I’ve been out of town practically every weekend in June.  I returned from ten days in Seattle and Vancouver only to find that summer has officially arrived in DC.  It is either torrentially raining or hot as balls.  Some highlights from the June weather forecast include “pea-sized hail”, “60 MPH winds”, “high of 98, feels like 103″ and “78% humidity”.

A few Sundays ago, I walked two blocks from my house and became certain that my skin was about to melt off my face.  I stopped into Sticky Fingers bakery and attempted to order an iced tea.  The cashier pointed at the refrigerator case, “The iced tea is over there.”  I blinked in confusion a few times before realizing that they only sold bottled, sweetened iced tea.

I’m a northerner; I do not like sweet tea.  I just wanted a big, cold cup of unadulterated black tea.  So I walked across the street to Mayorga and tried again: “I’d like a large iced tea.”  The cashier smiled apologetically at me, pointed at the refrigerator case, and said they only sold bottled Honest Tea.  Dude, this place has a freaking raw juice bar, but they can’t brew their own iced tea?!  Unacceptable.  “Okaaay,” I said, “Can I have a large hot tea and a cup of ice?”  Yes, they could do that.

So I awkwardly mixed my own iced tea, but it’s wasn’t the same.  The tea doesn’t get strong enough or cold enough.   How hard is it to fill a giant pitcher with tea, ice cubes, and throw it in the fridge?  Apparently harder that it sounds.  I was able to order an iced tea at Dos Gringos, but it tasted like it has been brewed in a container that was used to brew coffee.  Which is to say, it tasted terrible.

I know these places are all billed as “coffee” shops, but every “coffee” shop out there serves hot tea and sells a variety of bottled waters and juices at the very least.  I have yet to visit a sit down restaurant that did serve iced tea.  Most of them will even make you an awesomely refreshing Arnold Palmer.  I’m trying to patronize my local businesses here, but they have failed to quench the thirst of this non-coffee drinker! I hate to say this, but it looks like I have to start going back to Starbucks, even though I hate Tazo tea.  But you know what?  In the summer, you can get iced black tea, iced green tea, and they’ll even make you an Arnold Palmer.  Nothing cuts the face-melting DC heat like a tall glass strong tea and lemonade.

I don’t really know what a flake is, but I do know that it’s delicious. From what I can tell, it involves a pie-crust like pastry with some sort of filling. This tasted sort of like a pie in bar form, but less messy and more nutty. In any case, I promise it won’t disappoint. For my version, I used almonds, apples, and some leftover strawberry rhubarb compote, but you could use any combination of fresh fruit/jam/nuts for endless possibilities. I am currently on a rhubarb kick, and this is a great way to take advantage of it.

Rhubarb Apple Almond Flake (Adapted from Lori Bohn’s original recipe for Rhubarb Almond Flake from Simply in Season)

• 4 smallish tart baking apples (I used Pink Ladys), thinly sliced
• 1 1/2 cups strawberry rhubarb compote* or other fruit puree or jam
• 3 cups all purpose flour
• 1 1/2 cups butter (3 sticks)
• 1 tbsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 eggs
• scant 1 cup milk + 1/4 cup (I substituted Silk soy milk)
• 1 1/2 cups crushed or slivered almonds
• 1/2 cup butter
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 2 tsps almond extract

1. Take 1 cup (2 sticks) of cold butter and cut into small pieces. Pulse butter, flour, baking powder, and salt in food processor using on and off turns until a coarse meal forms. Alternatively, cut butter into flour mixture using a pastry cutter or fork.

2. Crack eggs into a measuring cup and beat until yolks and whites are combined. Pour in enough milk to create 1 cup of liquid. In a large mixing bowl, combine milk and eggs with flour and butter mixture until a ball of dough forms. Divide the dough in half and form into 2 disks. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least 20 minutes.

3. While the dough chills, make the glaze. Combine nuts, remaining 1/2 cup of butter, 1/4 cup milk, sugar, and extracts in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Boil 2-3 minutes, then remove from heat.

4. Grease a baking sheet or jelly roll pan. Roll 1 disk of dough to 1/2″-1/4″ thickness. Lay in pan. Spread layer of compote onto the dough, then a layer of apples. Alternate layers until all the fruit and compote have been used.

1. Roll out 2nd disk of dough, making sure it is roughly the same size as the bottom layer. Place the 2nd sheet of dough over the fruit and fold over the edges to seal. Try to create a bit of a lip along the edge, otherwise the glaze will run off the pastry. With a fork or knife, poke a few holes in the dough to allow steam to vent.

2. Spread nut glaze over the top. Bake in a 400 F degree oven for 20 minutes. Reduce temperature to 300 F and continue baking another 35-40 minutes or until golden.

* Strawberry rhubarb compote can be easily made by cooking chopped fruit with sugar and a little water over medium heat. The fruit will break down after 15-20 minutes, at which point you can mash it up. I like to make mine with half a vanilla bean thrown in for flavor. It’s is awesome on plain yogurt or bread.

I think Pasta Mia pasta is like crack.

Seriously.

I ate at the tiny Adams Morgan institution for the first time this weekend. The place has maybe 15 tables, does not take reservations, does not take credit cards, and yet there is always a line out the door. Under normal circumstances, this would indicate that there must be something to the hype, but you never know in DC. Some things are just inexplicably overrated in this town (Lauriol Plaza, anyone?).

I waited almost 2 hours (30 mintutes in line, an hour at the table) before a bite of pasta hit my lips. The wait was worth it. That is how good my pasta was. And this is coming from someone who becomes incredibly belligerent when denied food. Also, the carafe of fruity house wine probably didn’t hurt either.

I ordered the penne carbonara, which arrived all eggy and buttery, dotted with flecks of crispy pancetta and topped with a huge mound of Parmesan. There is something so decadent about a silky egg sauce and melting cheese. Also, I was surprised at how overjoyed I was to be eating perfect al dente pasta in a restaurant. My favorite thing about pasta is the chewy texture of a perfectly cooked noodle. Prior to Pasta Mia, I hadn’t found good Italian food in DC. I tried Tosca and was disappointed, especially for the price tag. (Everything at Pasta Mia is under $20.)

So, I had a great meal. So great that it just won’t seem to go away. I actually can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like the first time I had Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby (another crack-like food). I couldn’t stop craving it. The same appears to be true of Pasta Mia. I keep seeing that steaming plate of penne and tasting the tangy cheese in my mind. I think I just might go back on Wednesday.

Belgian food is starting to quickly become an overdone fad in DC. However, having spent most of my life in the Midwest, deprived of moules and frites, I just can’t seem to get enough of them. Plus, trying new restaurants gives me an excuse to eat french fries, even though I know they’re bad for me.

Two weekends ago, Lee and I made reservations for any early dinner at Brassiere Beck. BB opened about a year ago amid serious hype. Reviews seem to be mixed, but BB also keeps popping up in various best new restaurant lists. While that’s enough to make one a little hesitant, Brasserie Beck definitely exceeded my expectations on several counts.

Lee and I each ordered a salad ($13) to start - bibb lettuce with roasted beets and frisee with lardons and poached egg. I’m sorry there are no salad shots — I was so hungry that I forgot to take a picture. The beet salad arrived with thin slices of beet arranged in a circle and a little pile of lettuce leaves and minced red onion in the center. As an avid beet fan, I have eaten many a beet salad. This rendition was perfectly acceptable but not very memorable. The mustard dressing was very mild, and I thought the raw onion overwhelmed their delicate flavor. I think a gentle dressing works will with tender bibb lettuce, but a little more acid would have brought out the sweetness in the beets.

The frisee salad, on the other hand, was divine. Like, eyes rolling back in my head, weak knees, drooling a little divine. The presentation was also delightful - the mound of frissee was topped with a parmesan toast crisp and a perfectly poached egg. I love this flavor combination, but in the past I have noticed that this salad can become overpowered by the sherry vinegarette and becomes soupy once the egg yolk is mixed into the greens. What is notable about Brasserie Beck’s salad is that the salad is dressed just lightly enough to impart a vinegary pucker that is smoothed out by the richness of the yolk. But the best part is the addition of little deep fried shallots, which opens the salad up to an entirely new level of flavor suggestion and gives it greater textural interest. I would go back for this salad alone. Read the rest of this entry �

This pie tastes like summer. I made it for a work picnic on Thursday. I was going to make a strawberry rhubarb pie, but Giant was out of rhubarb. Instead, I got some purple plums and Bosc pears, both of which were a bit under ripe. I was a little skeptical of the flavor combination, but it turned out great! The pears and plums were cooked, but not mushy. The texture contrast was great with the soft strawberries. Also, this pie tastes very fruity, but not overly sweet. I think this might be my new favorite pie.

For crust: I swear by this all-butter crust recipe from Bon Appetit

For filling:

• 1 lb ripe strawberries (1 of those plastic flats = 1 lb)
• 6 firm medium purple plums
• 4 firm Bosc pears
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 2 heaping tbsp corn starch
• 1 tsp high quality cinnamon (I use Vietnamese Cassia Cinnamon from Penzey’s and it makes a huge difference in the flavor. If using lesser quality, I would increase the amount.)
• 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract (I received a bottle of Haitian vanilla for Christmas and it’s got a wonderful bright flavor that I love with fruit. Mexican vanilla would also work nicely.)

1. Make crust dough per Bon Appetit’s recipe. While dough disks cool in the fridge, make the filling.

2. Hull and quarter strawberries. Cut plums and pears into roughly 2″ sized pieces. You can leave the skins on. Toss cut fruit with the sugar, corn starch, cinnamon, and vanilla. Set aside.

3. Roll out 1 disk of dough for the bottom of the pie. I like to roll my dough between two sheets of plastic wrap. This means I don’t have to worry about my dough sticking to my counter or rolling pin. Once you have rolled your dough out to the desired thickness, carefully peel the plastic off one side of the dough. Lay the dough into your pie plate, plastic side facing up. You can then grip the plastic side and adjust the dough as needed. Once your dough is in place, carefully peel off the other piece of plastic and press into the pan. If there are any holes, you can patch them with excess dough on the edges of the pie.

4. Pour fruit into pie. Roll out the second disk of dough. After you’ve peeled off your first piece of plastic, you can cut little shapes into the crust with a cooking cutter. I use the pointy end of a chopstick to pull the cut outs off the plastic sheet on the backside of the dough. Lay the dough over your fruit, plastic side up. Be extra careful when removing the plastic, as it is easy to tear the shapes. Alternatively, use a knife to cut a few vents for the steam to escape.

5. Use a pair of scissors to trim the excess dough from the edge. Fold edges over and crimp as desired. I am terrible at crimping. If you want to learn how to crimp your pie nicely, Epicurious has a nice instructional video. Otherwise, you can just use the tines of a fork to smush the edges together.

6. For a nice golden crust, lightly beat an egg and brush it over your finished pie. Sprinkle with sugar for extra crunch and flavor. Bake the pie at 375 for 45 minutes - 1 hour.

Makes one 12″ pie. Easily adapted for a 10″ pie–just mound the fruit in the middle.

Every year, Lee’s mother mails him a birthday care package. Aside from presents, it always includes a box of angel food cake mix, as well as candles, balloons, and paper plates and napkins. It’s sort of quaint, because no matter how old he gets, the care package is exactly the same. This is not limited to birthdays. For the last two years, we have received plastic eggs, candy, easter grass, and an egg dying kit for Easter. This package is usually accompanied by a phone call explaining that Lee can open the box early if we want to dye the eggs the night before. I am 24 years old and have not dyed an Easter egg in over a decade.

While I don’t dye the eggs, I do make the cake. (I’m not really sure if the cake mix is really for him so much as me, since I can’t really imagine Lee making himself a cake.) In my early baking days, I attempted angel food cake from scratch, not realizing it was one of those fussy recipes that require precision and good technique.  My cake puffed up nicely in the oven, but quickly deflated into a lumpy mess once I took it out.

The mix, however, is completely idiot-proof. You add water and, through the magic of chemistry, the mixture foams to 3x its original volume. Then you pour it into the pan and bake it. Unlike many box cakes, which have an artificial taste, I think box angel food tastes pretty darn authentic. I like to add some extra vanilla and almond extract, so it tastes like a giant, almond-y marshmallow.

This year, I decided to mix it up with some cupcakes, which are oh-so-trendy right now. I wanted to make mine sparsely beautiful, like Nigella’s fairy cakes. Per her recipe, I whipped up some royal icing and spread it on the tops with the back of a spoon. But, unlike Nigella, I didn’t have any cute little sugar flowers or fondant cut outs to stick on top of my cupcakes. After digging through the pantry, all I came up with were some raw almonds and leftover Christmas sprinkles. So, I did the best I could, given the circumstances. I think they look decently cute, if not ideal.

In case you didn’t know, Westend Bistro is the brain child of pouty-lipped chef Eric Ripert. If there is any doubt about this, please visit the Westend Bisto website. You can listen to some horrific ambient electronic music, accompanied by a giant headshot of Ripert. There is also this “thought-provoking” quote by Ripert: “A cook and a chef are different entities. “Chef” is a title… but when you are a cook, that is who you are. It’s your spine and soul.”

So, is Ripert a cook, a chef, or both? Wait, do I actually care?

No. What I do care about is how my food tastes. Last night, I went to Westend Bistro for Lee’s birthday dinner. I had done some research via Don Rockwell and had learned that Westend Bistro was good but perhaps not awesome. (I also learned that Don Rockwell members are incredibly snotty.)

To start, we ordered two seasonal appetizers: rabbit rillettes with apple and celery and soft shell crab on a watercress, fingerling potato, and caper salad.

The rillettes were a bit over salted and one note. Mostly, you tasted salt, then the rabbit pate. The delicate apple and celery shavings were completely overwhelmed. As a personal bias, I’m just not that big a fan of spreadable meats. The mushy texture doesn’t do anything for me.

On the other hand, the soft shell crab was very good. I was a little skeptical of the flavor combination, but was very pleased when I tasted it. I am a die-hard soft shell crab fan, and this crab was perfectly dredged and fried. Very light and crispy, though a touch too salty. However, the light, tangy flavors of the salad balanced out the richness of the crab. This was one of those dishes in which you must eat all the components together on your fork to get the full experience. Apart, they are a bit pedestrian, but together it’s quite wonderful.

For our main courses, I ordered the braised veal cheeks with potato puree and wild mushrooms (pictured above). Lee had the special, roasted shoulder of lamb with white beans and pine nuts.

My veal cheeks were tender and served in a very rich pan gravy. Again, the sauce was a bit too salty. There was not enough potato on the plate to make up for the richness of the meat and sauce. The mushrooms were earthy and bursting with roasted flavor; the carrots were tender but not mushy and the sweetness was a nice contrast to the meat. If this had been served with more potato and carrot and a hair less salt, I think it would have been successful. That said, I don’t think it was anything earth-shattering–it kind of tasted like an upscale beef stew. Given that spring has officially arrived in DC, I think a dish like this is a little too heavy. I probably should have ordered fish or something lighter.

Lee’s entree was much more seasonally appropriate. I only had a bite, but the lamb was perfectly roasted: tender and pink, but not bleeding. It did not have even the slightest bit of gamey taste, though the layer of fat on the outside did. Unfortunately, like everything else, it was slightly over salted.

Dessert at Westend Bistro was our best course. We ordered the rhubarb tart and the nougat glacé (pictured above), based on a tip from DonRockwell.

The nougat glacé is basically a little mold of very creamy hazelnut ice cream, served with an orange sauce and candied pistachios. The best part was the edges, which had melted slightly and were incredibly smooth and rich. If you have good self-control, I recommend letting the dish rest a few minutes so the nougat can melt a little. I have a bad habit of rapaciously attacking my desserts and, after nibbling at the edges, began hacking at it very loudly with my spoon.

The rhubarb tart was even better than the nougat. The tart was served with a scoop of strawberry mascarpone ice cream. It tasted as good as it sounds, especially since the strawberries were fresh and the mascarpone made for an extra rich texture. The tart had stewed rhubarb pieces atop a firm, pear-flavored custard. I was expecting more rhubarb flavor, but I actually really liked the combination of tart/sweet flavors and stringy/custardy textures that resulted from the rhubarb and pear marriage.

Overall, my reaction to Westend Bistro is mixed. I would definitely return for the desserts, and I was impressed with the soft shell crab appetizer. However, the entrees were a bit disappointing, especially considering that they were between $20-35 a plate. Starters are $10-15, salads and soups $7-12, vegetable sides $7-10, and desserts were $9. (Funny, because bistros are supposed to be cheaper…) If I’m going to pay that much for my main course, I can get better food elsewhere.

That said, I believe you can eat at Westend Bistro for a better price. We did not try any of the sides, but the couple next to us was eating the mac and cheese for two, and it looked delicious (herb and breadcrumb topping, served in a little cast iron dish). If I were go to back, I would stick with appetizers, salads, sides, desserts, and some of the cheaper entrees (the burgers looked good, and the mac is big enough to be a meal for one). The more expensive entrees simply aren’t worth it. The dining experience itself is very pleasant–the waitstaff are very attentive, the atmosphere is friendly, relaxed, and the decor is warm and modern. In that sense, it is exactly what a bistro should be.

I feel like now is sort of the best of times and the worst of times for food-centric shows on tv. As a child, I remember the only options were watching low-budget how-to shows on PBS or reruns of Julia Child. Now that food is trendy, the Food Network machine has exploded into every home in America via Rachael Ray’s face on a box of Ritz crackers. The upshot of this trend are shows like No Reservations or Top Chef. The downside is that the Food Network’s programming seems to get worse, and worse.

For instance, now that Tyler Florence is too fat to be a viable host for Food 911, they’ve reworked the same format into this new show called Rescue Chef, hosted by some guy called Danny Boome. Based on the endless promos currently running on the Food Network, Danny is cute, British, and most importantly:

1. A former hockey player

2. An ex-model

3. And, lastly, a chef

Is this guy’s food any good? Who cares! We see images of young, attractive women pouting into the camera and helplessly sighing, “I am a total mess in the kitchen!” You can just imagine the next line of this show: “Please, Danny, come rescue me!” It’ll be like Take Home Chef, except with even more overt flirting. If only Tyler Florence had a foreign accent, it would have given him that extra edge with the “culinarily challenged” ladies.

I think what I find so gross about this whole marketing scheme is that it smacks of some damsel-in-distress fairy tale. Like, women (who, let’s be honest here, have historically done most of the common home cooking) need some big strong man to teach them how to use a spatula. I understand that the supposed message of the each show is going to go along the lines of, Cooking is actually easy and fun! (Especially if some hunky chef stands next to you while you slice onions.) But in order to sell this concept, you first have to make cooking seem too hard to do it by yourself. However, this show is clearly aimed exclusively at women, so I feel like the implicit message here is that young women today don’t know how to cook and are just lost without Danny Boome to “rescue” them. (Side note: What kind of last name is Boome?!)

You need to eat food to live. Therefore, cooking is a survival skill. Somewhere, some day, you might not be able to or afford to go out to eat or buy something pre-packaged. The basics are not that hard–for goodness sake, children can do it. Secondly, food is a pleasure. People love to eat delicious food; it makes you feel happy. So I find it nauseating to see the Food Network working the sex(ist) angle so heavily with this show. It’s insulting to my intelligence, not to mention the every female member of my family that had a hand in my culinary education.

It may be true that more young women today don’t know how to cook compared to earlier generations. But I think it’s generally true that many young people of both genders don’t know how to cook. So why isn’t Giada De Laurentiis traveling the country in her deep v-neck sweaters teaching helpless men how to cook pasta? Or, better yet, why isn’t Mario Batali traveling the country in his giant orange crocs teaching men and woman of every age how to make Pasticcio di Bietole al Forno or a host of other barely pronounceable dishes? Food Network, why must you dumb everything down to it’s most shallow, stereotypical level??? Ahhhh!

I think I need to go watch some “Baking with Julia” reruns on WETA.

In American restaurants, the kids menu tends to consist of things that are fried, white in color, or both (see chicken fingers, french fries, mashed potatoes). In Japan and Korea, kids get to eat something called omurice or omu-raisu. I saw this dish for the first time during Tampopo, a bizarre Japanese send up to noodle shops and food fetishes from the 1980s. (If that plot line sounds even remotely intriguing to you, Netflix it now. You won’t be disappointed.) I actually ate omurice for the first time at a tiny Korean restaurant near Dulles airport. My friend explained that this was “kid’s food”, but she had a craving, so we ordered it anyway.

For the uninitiated, omurice is a omelet filled with fried rice and topped with a few artistic squirts of ketchup. I know the ketchup part sounds a little strange, but trust me when I tell you that the ketchup is key; the sweetness of the tomato really brings the whole thing together. There is also something incredibly comforting about eating omurice; even if you didn’t grow up with it, the flavors and textures have a simplicity that practically screams home cooking.

A few weeks ago, I developed my own acute hankering for omurice. I followed this recipe from Just Hungry, substituting as needed (I didn’t have any meat, but I threw in some spinach and scallions). The technique is very simple. Saute your veggies, add pre-cooked meat, a little ketchup, and rice until heated through. Remove from pan, pour in lightly beaten eggs, cook until barely set, then flip over the rice mound. Apply ketchup designs as desired. Technically, you should put the rice back in the pan and fold the egg over, but that’s a little trickier, as the recipe explains. It tastes just as good without making the full omelet fold. Watch the omurice-making scene in Tampopo for some complex omelet folding action.

I love this recipe because it’s really quick, easy, and is a great way to use up leftover rice. It makes a hearty meal for one, or a great late night snack. Next time, I want to try it with some peas, carrots, and ham. However, for a true throwback to my childhood, I think I would have to use Spam. Yes, I used to eat fried rice with Spam as a kid. And, like omurice, it was delicious.

I have never been able to get into Top Chef. I’m a squealing fan of Project Runway, even though I can barely sew a button back onto a shirt. But, Top Chef Chicago started last night and I thought I’d give it a try. I figured that if I started watching from episode one, I might get sucked in and finally understand what all the excitement is about.

So far, I remain underwhelmed. First of all, guest judge Rocco DiSpirito? I watched his reality show about opening an Italian restaurant a few years ago and it was just painful. He could not get his staff together and had his aging grandmother making cantaloupe-sided meatballs in the kitchen basement.

But, anyway, about the food. The primary challenge paired up each of the chefs and they had to compete against their partner making a “classic” dish, such as steak au poivre, chicken piccata, lasagna, etc. A lot of them just kind of failed miserably. Like, one dude clearly didn’t know what the hell chicken piccata was and made some breaded chicken monstrosity. Then when the judges called him on it, rather than admit he messed up, he kept babbling incoherently about starch. One guy got upset that there was no mayonnaise in the kitchen, only to be told that you can make mayonnaise by blending eggs and oil. How can you be a professional chef and not know that mayonnaise doesn’t just come from the Hellmann’s jar?

Worse yet, the chefs assigned to cook souffle did not know how to make it. One guy decided to put mashed potatoes in the bottom of his souffle and then put a pile of tortilla chips on top! They kept hemming and hawing about how nervous they were about making souffle and how they were afraid their souffles might fall, blah blah blah… Um, if you don’t want it to fall, how about not putting chips on top of it? And, yes, I’ve made souffle before; I know what’s involved and what’s at stake. It’s not a beginner’s dish, but it’s definitely something that you can achieve at home. Souffle doesn’t require very many ingredients; the key is following the proper technique. I was kind of expecting more; I mean, these people did beat out tons of other wannabe-food stars to make it on the show, right?

I’m getting the feeling that I might get more out of the pure entertainment aspect if I didn’t know how to cook. I guess we’ll see what happens next week.