November 2008 – Food Woolf

Thanksgiving musings and food blog photography

Out of habit, I photograph what I cook and what I eat. Though this is not a novel idea—many food writers and bloggers do such things—but I often forget how unusual a two minute food photography session may appear to be to all of my non-blogger friends.

Take for example Thanksgiving dinner. The oddity of my habit was illuminated (literally) after the first course was served. As guests lifted their first spoonful of cauliflower and almond soup to their mouths, I snatched my bowl off the table and placed it on the floor. As the room went silent, I stood small white bounce card along side of the white puree, pulled my Lowel Ego light from its permanent near-the-dining-room-table-spot, powered up my camera, turned it to the “flower” setting, and started snapping photographs.

You could have heard a pin drop as my ten dinner guests stopped eating and watched me snap photographs of the soup.

“For those of you who don’t know,” my husband explained “Brooke is writing about our meal tonight for her blog.” Guests nodded, still stunned by my lighting set up.

Hans continued with his gracious explanation of my handiwork. “And if for any reason you do not want to be photographed–for fear of being seen by some authorities somewhere…Now is the time to let us know.”

Luckily, our guests were happy to fully participate.

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Family Meal–Restaurant Orphans' Thanksgiving

Like emergency room doctors and military personal, restaurant people don’t experience holidays like everyone else. Unlike doctors and the military, we don’t save or take lives. We just feed people who act like we do.

Restaurant people—as a group–are not part timers or after-school pick-up-shift dabblers. Restaurant people are passionate and hardened individuals that pay their bills by making or serving people food. We beat up our bodies (burn, cut, bruise, starve, deprive ourselves of sleep) and work extremely hard. And then, when it’s all over, we play hard and eat like Tudor kings.

When you’re a restaurant person you say goodbye to your family’s holiday dinner traditions and say hello to one in the morning champagne toasts with a band of depraved co-workers. Holidays, for us restaurant folk, are required days of service that line our wallets with much needed cash. Holidays are where we make up for the slow weeks to come and take our licks for being on the receiving end of customer expectations. And if you’re lucky to work for a restaurant that closes for Thanksgiving and Christmas, these are the two days out of the year that you can count on not being called in to work last minute.

Though twenty-four hours to celebrate a holiday is an amazing thing, it often isn’t enough time for big city restaurant folk to make their way back to their family—as many food service professionals are transplants from towns all over the country. Since most restaurants don’t allow staff time off during holidays, more often than not holidays are spent with co-workers.

This is the world of restaurant orphans.

Hosting Thanksgiving dinner for orphaned restaurant friends is a tradition I started several years ago. Unlike the long-established Thanksgiving dinners of my childhood, this is a celebration of food peopled by passionate food lovers. Though the guest list may change year to year, there is one common characteristic: my guests are restaurant professionals that work extremely hard and beat up their bodies–burn, cut, bruise, starve, and sleep deprive themselves for the job–and when the shift is complete, they play hard and consume food (and wine) like Tudor kings.

Restaurant Orphan Thanksgiving 2008

Thanks to my many years toiling away in the Los Angeles dining scene and my current position at a critically acclaimed (and Michelin awarded) restaurant, the caliber of guests attending this year’s celebration was extraordinary. This year’s guest list included:

–sous-chef of Hatfield‘s, a Cal-French, Michelin-starred restaurant.
–general manager/managing partner of Osteria Mozza–Mario Batali, Joe Bastianich and Nancy Silverton’s three star Italian restaurant
–manager of Jose Andres’ newest restaurant concept, the Bazaar
–a 1980’s new wave rock and roll star
–a Los Angeles, expert wine retailer and son of a world famous Burgundy wine importer
–front of house staff from Hatfield’s and Pizzeria Mozza
–a dominatrix (don’t ask)

With twelve invited guests, it was clear I would need to rely on my friends’ culinary talents. I plotted a five-course menu that featured specific dishes that showcased culinary passions and wine pairing abilities. Two weeks before Thanksgiving, I sent the proposed menu to my guests and requested they bring a wine that would pair with their dish. I checked in with my friends over the few days before our dinner, and I was relieved to discover everyone’s excitement about their assigned course. Seeing the menu in advance was just what they needed to understand where their dish fit in. We were all good to go.

Thanksgiving day preparation

As the host, I was responsible for the turkey, stuffing, gravy and, with my heart set on doing more than just the basics, a Brussels sprout side dish. Knowing full well that I would need to stay focused, I planned the days before Thanksgiving very carefully.

After a fair amount of research, I decided to dry brine of my turkey. On the Sunday before Thanksgiving I went to the busy Hollywood Farmers’ Market to pick up my pre-ordered organic, free-range turkey from Healthy Family Farms (located in Fillmore).

Based on the ravenous appetites of my friends, I purchased a 24-and-a-half-pound turkey. The locally raised, free-range organic bird cost $4/pound–but it was an easy purchase for both my conscience and pocketbook.

Once at home, I went straight to work. I followed the LA Times recipe (based on Judy Rodgers of Zuni Café’s dry brining technique), which consists of moderate salting and daily massaging of the bird. At almost 25-pounds, there was no denying the bird’s presence. Its strong legs, heavy body, pale skin, and blue veins reminded me daily of the sacrifice the bird made. Following three days of giving the bird gentle back massages and belly rubs, I felt a strange, almost sentimental connection to the turkey.

The day before Thanksgiving I prepped the chestnut, apple, and leek stuffing.

My husband and I peeled Brussels sprouts and, when we were finished, we rearranged our home.After careful reorganization, my husband and I turned our two-bedroom apartment into a small, twelve-seat restaurant with a comfortable lounge.

Thanksgiving Day

After a short run in the morning, I started work on the turkey. I felt a hint of anxiety start to build as I massaged butter and thyme under the bird’s skin and patted the residual moisture away. Would I be able to pull this off? Can a turkey this big still taste moist and tender. I soothed my nerves with a coffee break and a simple bowl of yogurt in our make-shift lounge.

My stress-free morning quickly ended, however, when I noticed two workmen with lawn equipment starting a gardening project just outside our first floor apartment. Carried on their shoulders were heavy, plastic sacks of steer manure—the very bags of cow dung I had eyed with curiosity ever since the pyramid of bags appeared on my landlord’s front garden, a few days prior. I watched in silent horror as the two happy men laid inches of cow dung onto the ground, just inches from my twelve-seat dining room.

If my time in restaurants has taught me one thing–it is to expect shit to happen. With an ironic laugh, I shut all the windows, lit some candles, and went to cooking my turkey.

The recipe required a high temperature start and flipping of the bird in the first half hour of cooking. The browned backside of the turkey made me proud, but in my struggle to flip over the monstrous bird I mistakenly ripped some of the turkey’s delicate skin from the leg and breast. After some swearing, rubbing of butter on the exposed areas, and patching with a toothpick and extra neck skin, I returned my Franken-turkey to the oven.

Every thirty minutes for the next four hours, I basted the bird. A half-hour before the proposed final cooking time, I checked the bird’s internal temperature. When the meat thermometer’s line sped past 165° and hit 180°, I gasped in shock. Had my fears come true? Would I really be forced to serve dried out, sawdust flavored turkey? The thought of 24 pounds of failure chilled me to the core. Hoping for the best, I wrapped the browned turkey in tin foil, set it on the table to rest, and tried to forget about it.

A half hour later–following the manager code of timeliness, my good friends David, the GM of Osteria Mozza, and his girlfriend Kate, a manager at The Bazaar, arrived at our appointed start time of 4 p.m. Minutes later Brian, the sous chef, and Lisa, the host of Hatfield’s, knocked on the door with their arms heavy with prep containers and coolers. The kitchen was a flurry of activity as David and Kate unloaded their milk-crate of pastries and numerous bottles of wine. Brian and Lisa unloaded a slew of plastic containers–a sort of portable mise-en-place–a beautiful apple pie, and containers still warm with cauliflower soup.

I conducted traffic, pulled plates from cabinets, directed dishes to serving tables, and kissed guests as I eyed the turkey drippings in the pan. I still needed to make the gravy, heat the stuffing, and prepare my Brussels sprout dish.

First course–appetizers

By five o’clock all of our guests had arrived. The restaurant orphans congregated in the living room with a glass of wine in hand and enjoyed Dan the wine seller’s contribution to the meal’s first course: an affetati misti, a delicious blend of dried, cured meats from Italy with a glass of Barbolini Lambrusco, a dry, sparkling red from Castelvetro DOC. Along with the salami purchased from the gourmet food seller, Joan’s on Third, Dan prepared a delicious Mediterranean dip consisting of anchovies, parsley, garlic, walnuts and salt cured black olives as well as pickled green beans.

While guest nibbled, Brian coached me through my final dish preparation in the kitchen. Brian is all skills and technique, a rock in the kitchen. A host’s dream for sure. He smiled as I tossed my Gourmet Magazine recipe for gravy aside, and like a good teacher, Brian talked me through the steps of crafting a gravy from the ingredients we had on hand.

When it came to separating the pan drippings from the residual fat (and butter) from the turkey, Brian had me ditch my thoroughly confusing gravy separator, and coached me to pour the turkey drippings into a metal prep dishes. We cleared room in the freezer and left the liquid to chill. Like magic, after several minutes the fat hardened on the surface of the bowl–making the separation of fat from juice incredibly simple.

Between cooking lessons, Brian warmed his perfectly thick puree of cauliflower soup on the stove. When it was ready to be served we deep fried his chiffonade of sage in grapeseed oil (for its ability to be heated to high temperatures without burning). Pilar—a beautiful Spanish server from Pizzeria Mozza—and I cleared the kitchen counter and, in the style of a kitchen brigade, plated all 12 bowls of soup at once.

“We need runners!” a common call from any kitchen line, was sung as three professional servers/guests swooped in, snatched up plates, and presented the soup in less than a minute.

Thanksgiving Menu 2008

Cauliflower and almond soup
With lemon oil

Paired with

François Chidaine
Clos du Breuil
Montlouis sur Loire, 2006

Mixed green salad with roasted beets and goat cheese
With a orange vinaigrette

Paired with

Wehlener Sonnenuhr
Riesling Kabinett
1996

When the last guest finished spooning the final mouthful of soup, a fleet of hands swooped in to clear the dishes. Out of habit, Pilar opened her hand and paused before taking away an empty dish. “May I (clear)?” she asked, and burst out laughing, realizing her inability to stop being a professional server—even on her day off.

Pilar and I donned our orange work aprons and went to washing dishes between courses. Meanwhile, without any fanfare, Brian began carving the turkey. As the first pieces were sliced from the bird, I held my breath as I watched him sample the meat.

“How is it?” I asked, nervously.

“In a word?” Brian paused, “Amazing.”

I said a silent prayer of thanks to the Turkey cooking gods and went back into server mode. It was time to serve the meal.

2nd course

Roasted, brined turkey

Paired with

Louis Jadot
Savigny-les-Beaune
Clos des Guettes
2005

R. Lopez de Heredia Vina Tondonia, S.A.
Vina Bosconia
Red Rioja
1999

Chestnut, apple and leek stuffing

Cranberry grapefruit compote

Brussel sprout leaves with pistachio and lemon

Sweet Yam puree with maple syrup and roasted walnuts

Paul’s Potato gratin

Gerry helps me light my food:

Sitting down with a full plate of food was an incredible relief. The bird was juicy, moist, and most importantly, tasted like a bird. The dry brine helped retain moisture while maintaining a truly flavorful taste. It was, by far, the best turkey I have ever tasted.

As guests shared stories and swapped glasses of wine, we relaxed and enjoyed the array of food on our plate. Sweet yams were creamy and thick with flavor. The earthiness of the turkey paired beautifully with the bitter and sweet cranberry compote. The buttery gratin offered the traditional flavors of potato while staying away from boring mashed potatoes. The big chunks of stuffing were scented with roasted chestnuts, buttery leeks and sweet and salty apples.

As friends went back for seconds, I dipped my spoon into Brian’s amazing sweet yam puree. The yam’s creamy texture and natural sweetness was the kind of dish I couldn’t be trusted around. I would have eaten the whole thing myself if it wasn’t for:

3rd course
Assorted cheeses

Paired with

Dow’s Vintage Porto
1985

4th course

Assorted desserts:

Apple Pie

Paired with

Elderton Botrytis Semillon
2007

Torta della Nonna

Some twenty bottles of wine later (remember–we restaurant people eat and drink like Henery the 8th) the night came to a hazy, happy close.

With all hands on deck we quickly cleaned the house, ushered people to cabs, and said good night.

I can’t wait to do it all over again.

Recipe for Roast Salted Turkey
Slightly modified recipe from the LA Times

1 turkey (12 pound? 15 pound? 25 pound? It’s all up to you)
1 stick of butter
fresh thyme
2 apples, quartered
2 onions, quartered
Kosher salt

1. Wash the turkey inside and out, pat it dry and weigh it. Measure 1 tablespoon of salt into a bowl for every 5 pounds the turkey weighs (for a 15-pound turkey, you’d have 3 tablespoons).

2. Sprinkle the inside of the turkey lightly with salt. Place the turkey on its back and salt the breasts, concentrating the salt in the center, where the meat is thickest. You’ll probably use a little more than a tablespoon. It should look liberally seasoned, but not over salted.

3. Turn the turkey on one side and sprinkle the entire side with salt, concentrating on the thigh. You should use a little less than a tablespoon. Flip the turkey over and do the same with the opposite side.

4. Place the turkey in a 2 1/2-gallon sealable plastic bag, press out the air and seal tightly. Place the turkey breast-side up in the refrigerator. Chill for 3 days, leaving it in the bag, but turning it and massaging the salt into the skin every day.

5. Remove the turkey from the bag. There should be no salt visible on the surface and the skin should be moist but not wet. Wipe the turkey dry with a paper towel, place it breast-side up on a plate and refrigerate uncovered for at least 8 hours.

6. On the day it is to be cooked, remove the turkey from the refrigerator and leave it at room temperature at least 1 hour. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

7. Rub butter and herbs under skin, being careful not to tear skin.

8. Quarter two onions and two apples. Stuff in cavity.

9. Place the turkey breast-side down on a roasting rack in a roasting pan; put it in the oven. After 30 minutes, remove the pan from the oven and carefully turn the turkey over so the breast is facing up. (It’s easiest to do this by hand, using kitchen towels or oven mitts)

10. Reduce the oven temperature to 325 degrees, return the turkey to the oven and roast. **Every half hour, turn the baking dish and baste turkey with butter. Check bird’s internal temperature in the deepest part of the thigh, but not touching the bone. Stop roasting when the thermometer reads 165 degrees, about 2 3/4 hours total roasting for a 12-16 pound bird. About 3.5 hours for a 24 pound bird.

11. Remove the turkey from the oven, transfer it to a warm platter or carving board; tent loosely with foil. Remove apples and onions from the cavity and discard. Let stand at least 30 minutes to let the juices redistribute through the meat. Carve and serve.

Chestnut, leek, and apple stuffing
modified from Gourmet (November, 2008)

10 cups white bread cubes (crusts discarded)
3 large leeks (white and pale green parts only). Rinsed well then cut into 1-inch pieces (4 cups)
1 ½ sticks unsalted butter
4 celery ribs, sliced ¼ inch
1 tbsp chopped, fresh thyme
4 tart heirloom apples, peeled and cut into ½-inch cubes
1 jar of roasted chestnuts (16 oz.), halved
1 cup half and half
1 cup buttermilk
3/4 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley

–Preheat oven to 350ºF with racks in upper and lower position. Bake bread cubes on a four-sided sheet pan on the top rack for about 20 minutes, or until dry and slightly golden brown.
–wash leeks well. Submerge in a large bowl of water to remove grit.
–Melt butter in a large (12-inch) heavy skillet over medium heat. Add leeks and celery and cook for about 10 minutes until the vegetables become soft. Add thyme, apples, 1 ½ tsp salt, and 1 tsp pepper and cook—cover if possible—and stir occasionally, until apples are tender, about 5 minutes. Transfer mixture to a bowl and toss with toasted bread, chestnuts, cream and buttermilk, parsley, ½ tsp salt, and ¼ tsp pepper.

**Stuffing can be pre-assembled (but not baked) 1 day ahead. Bring to room temperature before baking.

When ready, preheat oven to 450ºF and bake in lower third of oven until the stuffing is heated through and the top is golden, about 30 minutes.

November 27

Thanksgiving Wishes

A wonderful Thanksgiving to all!

I am so thankful for the wonderful people in my life. My husband, my family, my friends — you enrich my days and fill up my heart with your goodness, humor, kindness, and always recipes! I am thankful for the amazing opportunities this blog has given me. I am thankful for mindful eating, farmers markets, Slow Foods, the inspiration of my mentors, the hope of our new president, and the daily reminder that one person to really can make a change.

I am thankful for you, dear reader, for taking time out of your day to visit these electronic pages. Thank you for your comments, support, and for being part of this wonderful culinary journey. It’s been wonderful meeting such wonderful people along the way!

So today, on this American day of eating and giving thanks, I wish you all the best.

I can’t wait to tell you all about my Thanksgiving adventures and hear about yours!

Love,

Brooke

November 25November 14

Thanksgiving Countdown: Redesign your space

When you live in an apartment but have big-home entertaining aspirations sometimes you have to think out of the box. Maybe you need to cook a handful of dishes in advance of the big day. Perhaps you need to rearrange your home to accommodate an spike in visiting guests. Maybe you need to put up a tent in the back yard. Anyone that’s ever thrown a dinner party in a tiny space has their own set of tricks.

For my husband and I, entertaining for twelve guests — the most we’ve ever had at our annual Thanksgiving dinner — required us to get creative with our two bedroom Los Angeles apartment. With over two decades of experience in the restaurant business combined, my husband and I were very clear: we needed to redefine our home as a space for entertaining. We would need one very large table, comfortable seating, plenty of glassware and flatware, and additional table space for platters of food and bottles of wine.Quite simply: we needed to turn our apartment into a cozy restaurant.

Before

In order to accomplish our task of accommodating twelve dinner guests, went about rearranging our home to create a space that would feel less like an apartment and more like a homey, twelve-seat restaurant. With an eye on comfort, we pulled back our living room couch, stored away our white shag rug (our wine loving guests have been known to drop full glasses), removed our love seat, and put together two dining room tables to create one long table.

After

We filled our empty dining room with comfortable chairs to create an inviting seating area, a perfect spot for guests to lounge while watching final preparations in the kitchen.

In the process of changing things up we removed the (ugly) brown slip cover from the love seat, and found we had a perfectly beautiful off white chair!

I polished, dusted and cleaned while a mix of music supplied by our iPod filled the newly arranged space. The new seating plan created a new and unfamiliar flow of energy in the apartment that gave my husband and I the feeling of two people that just moved into a new space: we felt energized and excited to be in our new environment.

Who knows, we might want to keep this arrangement for a few weeks and continue hosting dinners until well after Thanksgiving!

November 24November 14

Thanksgiving dinner countdown

It’s just three days before Thanksgiving and I have a long list of things to do. My guest list of twelve includes food and wine aficionados from Michelin starred Los Angeles restaurants, two respected wine retailers, and a wine-collecting rock star. With an attendee’s list like this, I have to stay organized, not get overwhelmed (or intimidated), and bring my A game.

After three years of hosting Thanksgiving dinner for restaurant orphans—a term I coined for restaurant professionals that are unable to go home to their families because they are expected work through the holidays–I’ve learned a lot. When serving Thanksgiving dinner to a table of restaurant pro’s you’ve got to share the work load, buy more wine than you think is needed, and most importantly, stay organized. For Thanksgiving dinner 2008 I will rely on my guests’ strengths—be it in the kitchen or in the wine cellar—to contribute dishes that showcase their talents and passions.

I’m excited to announce that Food Woolf will be one of 24 food blogs featured in Foodbuzz.com‘s first annual Thanksgiving Dinner event. As a featured publisher on Foodbuzz, I’ll be blogging about my Thanksgiving dinner within 24-hours of the day. It’s an exciting opportunity to share recipes, photos of what promises to be a wonderful meal, and insights into what happens when the people that make food and wine happen in Los Angeles have a day off to celebrate.

This year, I’ve planned out the three days leading up to Thanksgiving. Each day has its own shopping list, cleaning schedule, kitchen prep, and cooking needs.

It’s all about the Mise en Place

As it is in restaurant dining rooms and kitchens, everything must be organized and in its correct place in order for a successful dinner service to occur. And so it will be in my home.

Sunday

buy the turkey from Healthy Family Farms at the Hollywood Farmer’s Market. Prep and dry brine my 24.5 pound turkey.

Decorate: Buy Satsuma oranges and arrange for an edible table display

Monday

Buy an extra large roasting pan for the turkey

Buy some wine and digestivos for the dinner

Tomorrow: turn our Los Angeles apartment into 12 seat restaurant and lounge!

November 22November 14

Los Angeles Original Farmers' Market Celebrates 75 years

The Original Farmers’ Market at Third and Fairfax celebrates 75 years of business. In response to their call for recollections of this historic culinary landmark, I submit this memory.

Love letter to the Farmers Market

Ten years ago, I moved to Los Angeles after a lifetime of residency in small towns across Massachusetts. Though I had uprooted myself several times to live in different towns within my hometown state, the cross-country move was, by far, the grandest uprooting of my life.

In Los Angeles, when I wasn’t in class studying screenwriting, I would travel 3rd Street in my little Volkswagon, in hopes of collecting a mental database of familiar landmarks. I was often lost within the sprawling landscape of LA’s streets, with the Atlantic Ocean as a forsaken compass point. I went west when I thought I was traveling east. I followed Wilshire for hours, searching for its end. One of the first markers of my new city was the Original Farmers’ Market on the corner of Third and Fairfax. Though I knew nothing about the history of the farmers’ market, the buildings proved to me that LA was once a simple village, that shared traditions like the one I came from.

I’d park my car in the sprawling lot speckled with sports cars and tour busses and meander through the market. I marveled at the shelves always lined with precise piles of fruits and vegetables–a site I had only seen during the summer months of Massachusetts. I admired the impracticality of laminated photos of dead movie stars and Hollywood street signs as souvenirs. I was soothed by the white clock tower as it marked the passing of time. The friendly French man behind the cheese counter and the smiling butcher that offered to help find the best deal surprised me with their kindness. The Farmers’ market, regardless of whether or not I stopped by, gave me a sense of calm.

Looking back now, it is no wonder that I chose to live just one block from the Original Farmers’ Market. The neighborhood is my own little village where I can walk to shops, enjoy the park, and eat out at my favorite restaurants. I am a regular, a local, a fixture at the market.

After many years of feeling lost, I have finally found a home in this big city, thanks in part to the Original Farmers Market.

Happy Anniversary.

November 18January 4

How to clean and cook Dungeness crab

This week marks the beginning of San Francisco’s Dungeness crab season. Starting mid November and ending in May, you’ll find seafood lovers celebrating the return of their favorite 10-legged creatures with crab parties and a myriad of crab-centric meals.

If you’ve never split open a claw and tasted the bounty of this Northern California ocean treasure, it’s time to tie on a bib and get cracking. Once you get past the Dungeness crab’s hard shell, you’ll find its sweet white meat–delicate and undeniably decadent. How to prepare Dungeness crab is up to you, but many chefs agree: Dungeness crab meat is so tasty it shouldn’t be hidden underneath competing flavors.

Where to buy:
The best time for crab is in December and January, when supplies are plentiful and the meat is sweetest. Dungeness crab can be purchased live from your local fishmonger or bought pre-cooked at the market. Whole Foods Market currently offers whole, cooked Dungeness crab for $11.99/lb. *PS, if you’re buying Dungeness Crab from Whole Foods in Los Angeles, they get their delivery every Wednesday!

If you plan on buying your crab live and cooking it at home, make sure that the crustacean is alive when you buy it. To cook it, fully submerge the crab in a pot of boiling, salted water and cook for 10-12 minutes.

Prep made easy

The best place to prep Dungeness crab is outside. If you plan on making more than a few crabs (one large crab per person is a good idea), create a prep station in the back yard, near a hose. This is a great job for kids or curious adults eager to pull up a lawn chair and get their hands dirty. You’ll need a bucket of water for cleaning, a container to hold the crabs and trash can to discard shells in.

You might even want to consider having a really tasty beer nearby.

Step 1: With the crab belly side up, pull off the triangular shaped belly flap, or apron.

Step 2: Turn over the crab and remove the top shell by inserting your thumb between body and the shell at the rear of crab. Pull up.

Step 3: Twist off claws and legs.
Step 4: Using a nutcracker or hammer, crack open the legs and claws.
Step 5: With the top shell removed, break off the hard mouth of the crab. Discard the colored connective tissue and the inedible, finger-like lungs surrounding the body.

Step 6: Rinse the crab thoroughly. The inside of the crab should appear mostly white, with only gems of pale meat and shell remaining.

Step 7: Using either a knife or your hands, split the body in half (vertically). Pick out the meat.
Step 8: Use a nutcracker or small hammer to crack open the leg shells.
Step 9: Pick out meat with a lobster pick, fork, or tip of a crab claw.

How to eat
To truly enjoy the flavor of Dungeness, serve it in the rough, with just the simplest of ingredients. Dip crab meat into warm butter, aioli (oil, egg, and touch of garlic for seasoning), or a spicy horseradish dip (add horseradish and soy to your favorite ketchup for an easy sauce).

And, if you’re looking for a fun way to keep clean, here is a beautiful and environmentally friendly alternative to pre-packaged wet napkins:

Citrus wipes
a fresh citrus and cucumber water for cleaning dirty fingers

3 lemons, thinly sliced rounds
2 limes, thinly sliced rounds
1 orange, thinly sliced rounds
1 cucumber, thinly sliced

Mix fruit in a large container. Add enough water to cover. Serve in a beautiful serving bowl or prepare individual finger bowls for guests. Present with cloth napkins.

Go on! Get some Dungeness crab and enjoy yourself!

PS, thanks to Chef Stephen Gibbs from Hands On Gourmet for showing me how to clean a crab!

November 16November 14

Los Angeles county on fire

Ashes Over Downtown, originally uploaded by JT3_11.

The air is thick with grey-black smoke. The air tastes of charred hardwood, smoking oil, and man-made objects that were never meant to be burned…My clothes smell like an old man’s pipe. Allergies are inflamed.

Just a few mountain ranges north of Los Angeles, thousands of acres burn. As the blaze destroys homes and fire erases every trace of hundreds of families’ histories, life continues in the buzzing metropolitan valley of industry.

Photo Credit: Justin Fox, of the band Tripdavon.

Though a state of emergency has been declared in LA County, you would never know it, looking at the faces of LA residents. The coffee shops are packed with latte-drinking gabbers. Breakfast diners crowd the outdoor restaurants. Hollywood farmers’ market regulars happily scan the organic produce stalls. In a city of disdain and relative unconsciousness, I feel like Chicken Little. Doesn’t anyone else notice how bad the air tastes?

I decide to skip my usual hike up Runyan Canyon and take an abridged shopping trip to the farmers’ market. With a head of cauliflower and a bunch of red-orange carrots in my shopping bags, I spot a couple walking past: they are wearing environmental masks made of soft, synthetic cloth that covers their mouth and nose. Reactionary, I think, as they pass by. But then, as the reality of the health hazards tally up in my mind, I find myself taking shallow, sips of air rather than deep breaths. Moments later, I begin to see waves of farmers’ market customers holding tee shirts, scarves, and coffee shop napkins over their mouths–makeshift masks from the compromised air– in hopes of filtering out some of the unseen contaminants.

I hasten my shopping and wheel my hook-and-go cart to the car. It’s time to go home to the relative safety of my home.

Since the fire began on Thursday, more than 34 square miles of Los Angeles, Riverside, Orange and Santa Barbara County have been burned. More than 800 homes and apartments had been destroyed.

November 14March 14

Trusted holiday pie bakers in Los Angeles

If you live a life too busy for making a pie (or you fear baking) this is the time of year when you have to get creative. It’s either assign dessert to your guests or find a great baker to do the work for you. Though it is uncouth to dish out restaurant take out to guests at your holiday party, there is no shame in serving anything out of a pretty, pink pastry box.

Sometimes, a masterful guest list will afford at least one dessert maker in the bunch. But more often then not, Holiday dinners are populated with people eager to share their favorite side dish.

So if you can’t find a pastry chef on your invite list, I highly recommend getting over the guilt of not being able to bake, and march yourself to a trusted, local bakery.

If you live in Los Angeles, here are some amazing options:

La Brea Bakery, the Original bakery

The Original Bakery
624 South La Brea Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Phone (323) 939-6813
Email holiday orders to: orders@labreabakery.com

Pies Cakes and Tarts

Starting this Saturday (and until the holidays are over) you can visit La Brea Bakery (starting at 9 am) for free samples of pie! Be sure to try the Spiced yam and pumpkin pureed Thanksgiving pie ($30), Apple Crumble ($18), Cherry crumble ($20) and the toasted pecan and molasses Pecan tart ($28). Every pie is baked fresh, daily and can be ordered in advance for the holidays.

For a great cheese plate, be sure to pick up these delicious breads, created by my culinary hero, Nancy Silverton.

If your idea of a dessert course includes a plate of oozing triple creams and soft rounds of chevre, La Brea Bakery’s holiday loaves are just the thing you need to make the cheese course sing. Have the bread masters bag you a loaf of apple spice bread ($6.75), a Cranberry walnut round ($6.75), or the intensely flavored (and incredibly heavy) Fruit and Nut Bread ($13).

*Oh! And if you go by the bakery on Saturday, be sure to try the custard cake. Though this treat is quick to sell out, it’s worth going in early for a taste of the sweet, egg custard and flaky crust. Oh. My. God.

Tell George (the lovely British man behind the counter) that Food Woolf sent you!

SUSINA BAKERY

from robjtak at flickr

Susina Bakery
7122 Beverly Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90036
323.934.7900

Jenna, the owner, is as sweet as the desserts she creates. Try the freshly baked apple pie, pecan pie, or the cherry pie (each $28). Look like a culinary god when you serve the quince tart with vanilla hazelnut crumble or cranberry tart with vanilla hazelnut crumble (8 inch – $28; 10 inch – $42; 12 inch – $58). Don’t sleep on the carrot cake (9 inch – $35; 11 inch – $55; 13 inch – $75.00) or pumpkin cheesecake (8 inch – $35; 10 inch – $55).

Photo by milford cubicle on flickr

Place your holiday order in advance and you won’t need to wait long for your gorgeous and tasty holiday treats.

Susina’s staff are incredibly friendly and capable–a breath of fresh air in a town littered with LA bakers that would rather be rude than give good customer service. With desserts so delicious and carefully made, you’ll be sure to boast you picked it out.

November 10November 14

Old Testament Foodies, Lego Style

Ever find yourself surfing the Internet via Stumble Upon (a randomizing search engine of popular websites), and land on a website that you have no business being on?

Curious, you look a little longer than you should. You snoop around. You click on a few links, just to see where they bring you…

Well friends, that is exactly what happened to me today when I stumbled across the Brick Testament, a website that offers well produced re-enactments of Old Testament Bible stories…with Legos. It was just so strange, I just had to share this with you.

Click around the site long enough and you start to wonder if maybe, maybe this Rev. Smith has a secret, secondary agenda. I don’t know. Call me crazy…but there’s definitely something naughty going on over there at Brick Testament…

It’s a strange, strange world out there my friends.

November 9

Eat cheap with sweet potatoes

A delicious, nutritious, and satisfying meal for just 40-cents

I thought I knew what sweet potatoes tasted like. In my taste memory, sweet potatoes were dense, mealy, and slightly sweet. Yet, despite the millions of meals I’ve eaten and the multitudes of hours spent reading about food, I was mistaken. My outdated perspective on the sweet potato got a serious overhaul recently, when I tasted a baked yam, fresh from the oven. I was dumbfounded by its complex flavors, natural sweetness, and its unadulterated texture; it was creamy like a savory pudding.

I’ve had my share of sweet potato fries, but have never tasted anything like this.

How could something so simple–a yam baked in an oven for an hour and sprinkled with salt and pepper–taste so complex? I did a taste-double take. Wait-a-minute, I said to myself, didn’t this unadulterated and undeniably delectable sweet potato cost only forty-cents?

Sweet potato (or yam as it is commonly called in some parts of the states) is a distant relative of the potato. Native to South America, the sweet potato is thought to have originated from the Yucatán Peninsula of Mexico and the mouth of the Orinoco River in Venezuela. The tuber’s color ranges in shades between yellow, reddish-orange, white and purple.

Besides complex carbohydrates, sweet potatoes are rich in nutrients like vitamin A, vitamin C, iron, and vitamin B6. A baked yam is simply decadent with a smidgen of butter and just a pinch of salt and pepper. At approximately 90 calories per serving, the sweet flavor and rich texture will make you feel like you’re eating something far more sinful.

According to one statistic, sweet potato consumption in the US is down dramatically. In the 1920’s the average American ate 13 pounds of sweet potatoes a year. Now, the average American eats less than two pounds in 12 months.

Here’s to changing that statistic

With economic times such as they are, the low-priced sweet potato is a great tasting way to fill your belly and save some serious money. At my local farmers’ market I bought four large yams for just $1.20. Not many meals taste as good as my thirty-cent yam.

For a great snack or a no-prep meal

Wrap sweet potato in tin foil and bake, for about an hour in a 350-degree oven. Unwrap and serve with a touch of butter. Season with salt and pepper.

Bake off a number of sweet potatoes at once. Save uneaten potatoes for a great side dish for another meal. Mash with a fork and reheat the yams with a touch of milk (cream or soy milk will also work), a pinch of nutmeg, and a sprinkling of salt and pepper for under 15-minute mashed potatoes.

November 8

How to save money at the Farmers market

When money is this tight, is it possible to shop at a farmers’ market and still save money? The answer is yes: if you’re careful.

If you want to stay committed to your food-shopping budget, you have to be focused at the farmers’ market. As the seasons change and food cravings kick in, a bevy of culinary darlings threaten to coax every last dollar from your wallet and secreted away emergency funds. It’s easy to be blinded by the glory, when there are sun kissed Meyer lemons at 50-cents a piece, a bundle of herbs for just a dollar, beautiful apples for $3.50/lb, and buffalo mozzarella for $16/lb. The farmers’ market offers great bargains alongside cash absorbing luxury items.

DON’T BRING MORE THAN YOU CAN SPEND

Even though this may seem obvious, if you want to stay within your budget it is important not to bring a wallet full of cash to the farmers’ market. Don’t tempt yourself with an “emergency twenty” hidden away in the back of your wallet. If you’re a consummate food lover, all it takes is a glistening berry, a remarkable piece of fish, a gorgeous slab of beef, or a sample of nutty cheese to throw your budget out the window and motivate you to empty your wallet in a second. Do yourself and your budget a favor and leave the extra bucks at home.

ASK BEFORE YOU BUY

Though I may be careful when shopping at the supermarket, there’s something hypnotic about the farmers’ market. I lose all reason. Unlike a grocery store chain that entices me with price tags, the farmers’ lure me with glorious nature at the peak of freshness. The product is beguiling.

When I first started shopping at the farmers market I approached purchasing fruits and vegetables like a jazz player: I let impulse guide me. Though this was a great way to “get my chops” at the market, my impulsive shopping habits took quite a bite out of my weekly budget.

I’m not alone. For many food lovers, food pricing at the farmers’ market is an after thought. For every inexpensive sweet potato there is a tempting (and pricey) Honshimeji Mushroom. Though it may seem obvious, in order to stay true to a budget, you have to ask for pricing before even considering a product. Though asking for prices seriously “harshes” my improvisational style, the staccato sound of fifteen dollars a pound is enough to turn my inspiration elsewhere. And for someone like me that’s easily swayed by guilt, I now ask for pricing on items before I even touch the product I’m considering. Otherwise, that handful of delicious looking berries I spent ten minutes picking through will end up in my shopping bag–despite their astronomical price.

IMPROVISATION VS PLANNING

In the style of Miles Davis, I let the market inspire my culinary riffs. The early days of my improvisational style, unfortunately, were costly. After several weeks with a crisper filled with wilted carrots, moldy mushrooms and soggy broccoli for dishes that never got made, I realized it was time to become a more proficient and focused improviser.

Have a clear theme in mind

Before leaving for the market, I plan the number of meals I want to make. Sunday night and Monday night are my evenings to make dinner. With the number of dishes I want to make in mind, I walk around the market with my hands cemented behind my back: a move that keeps me from reaching into my pockets for my market dollars. I let my creative mind wander and allow the fruit, vegetable, and meat vendors to entice me with their products. Then I formulate the menu I want to create BEFORE buying anything. Then, with a clear menu in mind, I return to the vendors that inspired me.

FOLLOW A RECIPE

Sometimes, even a well-laid out shopping list can’t help. You may have a specific recipe you want to follow, but sometimes a new arrival at the market can distract you and inspire a whole new addition to the menu. Be aware of these impulses. Maybe one additional side dish isn’t a bad thing–but be careful not to lose the plot. Sudden inspirations, however, have turned simple chicken dinners into an elaborate, multi-course tasting menus because I couldn’t help myself. Sure, we enjoyed all the intricate side dishes and courses of food, but in the end my budget was busted.

Now, before I leave for the market, I peruse my favorite cookbooks and come up with specific meals I want to prepare. Using my shopping list as a guide, I stay focused on the list and don’t allow myself to be tempted by every fruit and vegetable that just came into season. If it’s fresh today, it will most likely be available next week. When I find myself being tempted at stand after stand, I start a mental list of what looks good so I can start planning for next week’s menu.

MULTIPLE MEAL PLANNING

If you’re shopping for more than one meal, think about how to maximize your shopping. By thinking big, you can double up on your meal plans to create multiple meals. Buy a whole chicken, roast it for dinner, and use the left-over meat for chicken salad the next day. By maximizing left-over possibilities, you’ll reduce cooking time and create a secondary meal for the next day.

BUY HEARTY

When in doubt, buy items that will last longer than a few days. Produce like potatoes, apples, oranges, and squash have a substantial storage life and can be bought in bulk. Having these low-price and hearty items on hand for a last minute snack not only saves time, the thinking ahead can also save you a fair bit of money.

What are your tricks to saving money at the farmers’ market?

November 5

Foodwoolf on The Kitchn

Over at The Kitchn, an inspiring food-blog, the editors are running a Pie Bakeoff. Readers are asked to bake and photograph their favorite pie and submit the recipe for judgment. The pie bake off is, as far as I’m concerned, a true challenge: it tests my weakest cooking skills.

In my entire lifetime of cooking, I’ve technically never made a pie. I did make a delicious nectarine and rhubarb pie once, but it required culinary training wheels: a pre-baked crust.

At the beginning of the month, I lurked on the Apartment Therapy’s Kitchn website and read about other people’s pies and wondered if I would ever build up the courage to try out one on my own. When my cravings for my Grandmother’s banana cream pie overtook me, I decided to try my hand at creating my first pie from scratch. And, as I feared, I was not completely successful.

The crust was a perfect texture–crisp and flaky with a touch of flavor boosting salt–but the custard was runny because I omitted the baked meringue element from the original recipe.

Yesterday, while trying to convince myself that my tasty, albeit soupy, cream pie wasn’t so bad, the editors of the Kitchn asked readers what kept them from baking pie. With a culinary “wound” that fresh, I couldn’t help but be honest.

I admitted I am scared silly about making desserts because I can’t make mistakes without it equaling failure. I’m an impulsive cook. I hate reading recipes all the way through BEFORE starting them. I hate EXACT measurements. I like to manipulate recipes. But with baking, I know that if I miss one small and important element I will ruin the entire baking endeavor.

And that’s what I said over at the Kitchn…and they responded with a survey (inspired by my comment!) that posed the question to readers: even if you love to cook, is it possible you’ve never made a pie from scratch?

I sincerely hope I’m not alone.

Do you fear baking as much as I do?

* I should admit that I recently made a crust-free pie for my Foodbuzz.com Iron Chef Challenge. Goes to show you I’ll do anything to avoid making a pie…

November 4November 14

Craving donuts

Obama with Donuts in DC, originally uploaded by p373.

I woke up this Election Day like a kid on Christmas morning. My eyes fluttered open, hours before I usually awake. I excitedly pulled back the covers and scampered from bed. I showered and dressed in a handful of minutes. I was eager to get to the polls and make my vote count.

Like a child on Christmas morning, I was plagued with cravings. I desired a gift I’d been dreaming of for years. And, unexpectedly, I hungered for a food that could match my dreams of a sweeter future.

In a word, I craved donuts.

From the minute my eyes opened, I hungered for powdered sugar and fried dough. When I took my shower, I imagined a pink box filled with frosted crullers, honeydews, chocolate donuts, and Boston Creams. As I dressed before my mirror, I schemed. The only justification for something as decadent as donuts, is to share them with as many people possible; truly, a shared sin is a much easier sin to bear. So what better place to succumb to the peccadillo of donut eating, than in a line of ballot-casting, patriotic neighbors?

I suggested my confectionary idea to my husband at the local coffee shop, but he refused to participate in my calorie-rich indiscretion. After offering to accompany me on my trip to the donut shop and observe me in dietary indulgence, I conceded to ignore my sugary craving and head straight for the polls.

Without even a crumb of fried dough in my stomach, I joined the line of men and women preparing to do their civic duty.

I carefully cast my vote, one black circle of ink at a time. When I was finished, a woman with curly hair presented me with a sticker that read “I voted” and in a sing song voice she offered, “Thank you for participating in the democratic process.”

As I left the polling station my craving for donuts left me. The only desire I can allow is my candidate winning this presidential election.