Raw Fish Revolution: A Recipe

The Italians call raw fish crudo and the Japanese, sashimi; even the Spanish have a word for their citrus soaked raw fish preparation, ceviche. But what is the word for the dishes that American chefs create with uncooked fish? Naked fish? Raw appetizers?

Here in LA, a broad range of award-winning chefs serve raw fish on their menus every night. There’s a a raw fish trend spreading through fine dining American restaurants, Baltimore fish joints, Cal-Euro bistros, and even Cal-Mex-Spanish fusion eateries. What’s so appealing about eating a barely adorned piece of raw fish? Simple. The fresh flavors of the sea mixed with oil, citrus, herbs, or salt is a wonderful way to engage the palate and awaken the appetite.

Though one must be careful when consuming raw or undercooked fish, a thinly sliced piece of fresh-from-the-sea fish prepared with a handful of ingredients is—without a doubt—an understated show stopper. I’ve sampled Chef Quinn Hatfield’s of Hatfield’s Restaurant’s version of crudo: fresh fluke that’s marinated in beet juice and finished with sea salt, oil, and micro-greens. I’ve gorged on raw fish at Hungry Cat with Chef David Lentz’s raw snapper on a puree of edamame with blood orange supremes and shiso leaves. The flavors of raw fish mixed with citrus, flavored oil, and salt results in delicate, poetic starters that leave me hungry (and inspired) for more.

Continue For an Easy To Make Crudo Recipe »

A Seafood Recipe–Inspired by an International Fish Market

fish at IMP, Los Angeles

The alarm went off at 6 AM—an uncharacteristically early wake up call for someone who waits tables past midnight. Eyes hazy from a lack of sleep, I stepped into the warm shower with dreamy thoughts of an early visit to an unfamiliar downtown market. Soon there would be coffee. And fish. Lots of fish.

International Marine Products

The day started early at International Marine Products (IMP), a small but world-class fish market open to restaurant professionals only. On the fringe of downtown Los Angeles, chefs from LA restaurants don hairnets or baseball hats while perusing the diverse selection of ice packed fish, mollusks, and shellfish.

brian and bass

Continue Razor Clam recipe »

Thank you, Shelia Lukins


The New Basics Cookbook was the first cookbook I ever bought. The year was 1993 and I was a fish-eating vegetarian (I didn’t know the word pescatarian yet) in search of a way to eat good food on a tight budget. Up to that point I was a ramen noodle, brown rice, stir fry and salad eater with an untouched Mollie Katzen vegetarian cookbook on the shelf.

But when I first saw Julie Rosso and Shelia Lukins’ The New Basics Cookbook, I recall thinking (with much remorse) that I was late in joining the gourmet food revolution. The cookbook’s unfamiliar cooking techniques and recipes made me want to get in my kitchen, start cooking, and catch up. Pronto.

The simplicity and playfulness of Lukins’ illustrations were beguiling—like a picture book for a child–and distracted me from my fear of learning something so new and unfamiliar. With Lukins and Rosso’s help, I started simply. I bought olive oil and fresh herbs. I roasted whole heads of garlic. I made fresh pesto. I chopped tomatoes and onions and made something called gazpacho. I cooked down eggplant and peppers for eggplant caviar. I watched in awe as my blender turned egg yolk and olive oil into aioli. With my new found culinary skill, I scoffed at store bought mayonnaise. For the first time in my life, I was using familiar ingredients in strange new ways.

The New Basics introduced me to new ingredients like watercress, fresh dill, and catfish; these were inexpensive items I could afford to experiment with. I learned how to make challa bread pudding with a whiskey sauce and oven roasted catfish with a a lemon dill sauce. I cooked these two dishes again and again until I could prepare them from start to finish from memory. For years, these were my go-to entree and dessert choices for every special occasion.



When Shelia Lukins stopped in for a meal at Pizzeria Mozza last year, I recognized her the moment she walked in the door. My heart rate whizzed as I watched the manager sit the author of my dog-eared cookbook at a table in my section. “Do you know who that is?” I said, as the manager walked past, nonplussed. I scurried to the back kitchen to find Nancy Silverton (my boss) and told her of Lukins’ arrival. Nancy’s eyes went wide and it took only moments for her to reassign her cooking duties so that she could join Lukins at her table. The pair embraced and shared food stories over plates of pizza and antipasti.

When I learned that Shelia Lukins died this week from brain cancer, I was stopped cold by the news. Lukins was my first teacher in the kitchen. Her words, basic instructions, and illustrations set me on my path. Her recipes intrigued me and guided me through a culinary infancy. Lukins’ legacy may not be as flashy as a Food Network chef, but like Julia Child, she was a cookbook author with abilities and recipes that changed the way people thought about food.

I am grateful to have had the opportunity to meet Lukins. Though she may have thought the server standing before her was simply offering a perfunctory thank you as she got up to leave, my parting thank you meant so much more than that. In actuality, my thank you was for inspiring me to get into the kitchen and learn more about food.

Thanks again, Sheila. You changed my life for the better.

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Reddened Catfish with Lime Watercress Aioli
From The New Basics Cookbook, Sheila Lukins and Julee Russo

For the Lime Watercress Aioli
1 egg yolk
1/2 cup minced watercress leaves (or leftover greens)
1/4 cup chopped scallions
2 tbsp fresh lime juice
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp salt
freshly ground black pepper
3/4 cup vegetable oil
2 tsp grated lime zest

1. Blend the egg yolk, watercress, scallions, lime juice, mustard, salt, and pepper in a food processor or blender until smooth.

2. With the machine running, slowly add the oil in a thin stream. Blend until the sauce is thick and smooth. Transfer to a bowl and stir in lime zest. Refrigerate until ready to use.

For the Reddened Catfish

1/2 cup breadcrumbs
1 tbsp lemon zest
2 tsp paprika
2 tsp dried oregano
2 tsp Kosher salt
1 tsp dried red pepper flakes
1/4 cup half-and-half
1 egg
1/4 tsp sugar
6 catfish fillets (about 3.5 ounces each), skinned
1 cup lime watercress sauce

1. Preheat oven to 450F. Grease baking sheet and set aside.
2. Toss the bread crumbs with lemon zest and herbs on a plate. In a shallow bowl, lightly beat the half and half with the egg and sugar.
3. Dip the filets one at a time into the batter mixture and then the crumbs.
4. Arrange the fish on the baking sheet and bake until sizzling and cooked through, about 12 minutes. Serve immediately with the sauce.

An improvised recipe for Maryland Crab soup


(Photo credit: from Diane at White on Rice)

There’s something really beautiful about having the confidence and skill to improvise. Musicians do it when they see beyond the black notes on a chart and close their eyes to jam. It’s the same with creating something impromptu in the kitchen; it comes when the cook understands more than just the basic chemistry of cooking and ratios and starts to feel their way into a never-before-created dish.

Like a musician that can hear a tune unwind in their head, a chef must be able to cook and taste a dish before ever slicing into product or turning on the stove. The day I cooked crab soup from beginning to end without ever boiling a pot of water, was the day I realized I had started to think like a chef.

Take me to the bridge!

I have my friend Chef Brian—sous chef of Hatfield’s restaurant–to thank for my recent transformation. Over the past year he’s taken me under his wing, described the way he creates dishes and has talked me through the way prepares every ingredient. Thanks to his willingness to share culinary secrets, he’s given me information that can only learned by spending thousands of hours in the kitchen.

I recently invited a handful of my very best culinary friends to our Los Angeles apartment for a night of eating. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate our love of food than with a casual dinner that celebrated the bounty of California’s farmers’ market featuring freshly caught Santa Barbara crab. With the Hungry Cat Crab Fest–one of my favorite LA dining events–as inspiration, I began to put together my menu.

Standing in the Hollywood Farmer’s Market I saw it all so clearly. I would serve a multi course dinner, starting with a cucumber and lime cocktail. I’d begin with a savory fruit salad (Suzanne Goin style), follow it with a Maryland-style crab soup and corn bread, and finale with a huge Santa Barbara rock crab, mallets and plenty of corn on the cob. I felt confident about the salad and the simple boiling of the crab and ears of corn–but the soup was a different matter completely.

I didn’t have a recipe, nor any hope of finding one. I asked my boss (Suzanne Goin herself) if she had a copy of her husband—Chef David Lentz‘s—soup recipe but she didn’t. Oddly confident I thought, I can figure this out.

I began to doubt my abilities the moment after I had navigated through the crowded Hollywood Farmers Market with bags stuffed full of fresh produce and angry Santa Barbara crabs. Suddenly my mind was flooded with an imagined future of disappointed food bloggers politely eating a watery crab soup.


Just as I was at my lowest low, the culinary gods smiled upon me as I stumbled across the path of smiling Chef Brian—a Maryland native and crab expert.

“My god,” I gasped. “Can you tell me how to make crab soup?”

With my hands occupied with heavy sacks, he ran down the basic procedures of preparing a Maryland crab soup. Unable to take notes, I visualized the cooking of the crab, the messy job of pulling out the crustacean’s sweet meat, the sautéing of the shells and cooking the bodies down with mirepoix to create a rich stock. I saw it all as I repeated the steps all over again at the stove. Thanks to Brian’s advice and my newfound confidence, the soup was a huge success.

Like a family recipe that is shared through generations, this soup is created by feel and instinct. I offer you the recipe here, as it was described to me at the Hollywood Farmer’s market.

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An Improvised Maryland Crab Soup
As shared by Brian Best, Hatfield’s Restaurant

4 large Santa Barbara Crabs
1 large bunch of carrots, peeled and chopped
1 large bunch of celery, chopped
3 large onions, chopped
6 ears of corn
fingerling potatoes (1-2 pounds), peeled and chopped into small pieces
2 small cans of tomato paste
2 dried ancho chili
2-3 tbl Harissa from a tube
Vegetable oil for cooking
Olive oil for cooking
enough water to cover the crabs
left over vegetable scraps or herbs

Crabs should be alive before you cook them. Leave crabs in the coolest section of the refrigerator until you are ready to cook them. Putting them in the freezer for 10 minutes before you cook them will make the cooking process less difficult for the crabs (and you).

Fill a large pot with water. Bring the water to a boil. Add the crab one at a time to make sure they are fully submerged in the water. Cook separately if necessary. Depending on the size of the crab, cook for 12-15 minutes but no more. Remove the crab from the water, let cool. Reserve the cooking liquid if possible.

Cover your worktable with newspapers. This is going to be messy. Using a mallet, hammer, or crackers, break the claws to reveal meat. Using chopsticks or picks, remove the meat. Put crab meat in one bowl and the shells in another. Rinse crab’s top shell of the dark internal liquid, as this juice will make the soup bitter. Break down the top shell with a hammer.

Using the same large pot, heat pot over high heat with a little vegetable oil. Add an acho chili or two, the crab shells and pieces. Stir crab shells frequently, making sure to heat all the shells evenly. The crab shells should start to smell of the sea, about 10-15 minutes.

In a separate pan, add half of chopped onion, carrot and celery to a hot pan with olive oil. Sautee down until the mirepoix ingredients begin to soften. Add to the sautéing crab shells. Add herbs and any vegetable scraps you may have. Add cooking liquid or water to the crab shells, being careful to add just enough to cover the shells. Simmer on stove for an hour. Taste. Drain the crab stock with the finest sieve you have. Cook down the stock for 30 minutes to an hour.

In your sautee pan, cook down the remaining mirepoix ingredients until soft. Add softened mirepoix and potatoes to stock. Remove the corn from the cob and add to stock. Add tomato paste, stir to dissolve. Add crab meat. Cook down for 30-60 minutes. Taste for seasoning. Add Harrissa if you desire more spice. Serve immediately or freeze.

Serve with cornbread.

Italian Fast Food


24 hours days aren’t what they used to be. Hours spin in a blur of color, sound and flavor. Life as I know it—thanks to the opportunities this blog continues to offer me—is morphing into something wonderfully different.

With my new job as a columnist for the LA Weekly’s on-line food section called Squid Ink (home to the nation’s only Pulitzer Prize winning food journalist, Jonathan Gold!), waiting tables a few nights a week and multiple freelance writing gigs, there’s a lot to accomplish in one day. Consequently, sleep has become a luxury. Coffee is a non-negotiable necessity. And lately—here’s the shocker—I’ve gotten so busy I barely have enough time to eat.

Fast food for foodies

Granted, lots of food lovers have secret fast food indulgences. In-n-Out is definitely one of mine. But in terms of being good to my body and the world around me, pulling up to a drive thru window on a regular basis just isn’t an option. Protein bars are good in a pinch, but the act of devouring a meal replacement bar may quiet my stomach but it tends to put me in a bit of a sour mood.

In truth, my idea of great fast food is a slice of great bread with a small bowl of oil-soaked sardines sprinkled with red wine vinegar and radishes. But after several weeks of eating my way through many cans of sardines, I knew it was time to expand my fast food repertoire.

Dinon Alimentare

I recently discovered Dinon Alimentare’s line of marinated seafood salads at the seafood department at my local Whole Foods. Beautiful white anchovy filets and golden jewels of marinated mussels from Italy’s coast had me intrigued. The less than $9 price tag got me buying.

I love toasting bread and dropping a couple tender anchovy fillets over the top. I like to toss the marinated mussels* in with some greens and heirloom tomatoes. The calamari salad travels well in its sealed container and is a perfect addition to an outdoor picnic.

With a couple of Dinon seafood containers in the fridge and a beautiful loaf of bread on my counter, I’ve got ready to go meals in just seconds.

The quality of the ingredients and care that the people at Italian based-Dinon Alimentare take to prepare their marinated seafood salads has me thinking that the Italians really do know how to make food–even fast, prepared food–sexy. I may not like the words “prepared packaged foods” but I certainly do love saying the company’s motto: “Freschezza pronta in tavola.”Freshness brought to the table fast? Who doesn’t like that?

*sometimes the Dinon mussels need a little more de-bearding. I take the extra few seconds to trim that off. Otherwise, they’re just perfect.

Think Like A Chef: Quinn Hatfield

cake tester from Quinn Hatfield

I’m lucky to have chefs for friends. It’s one of my most favorite benefits of working in the restaurant business. Not only are professional cooks really entertaining to hang out with* they also are invaluable resources when it comes to anything culinary. And, if you ask nicely and aren’t afraid to embarrass yourself, chefs have lots of great insights on cooking techniques, recipes and how to improve your performance in your home kitchen.

Chef Technique

mise 1

In order to cook like a chef you have to think like one. In a professional kitchen, cooking isn’t done on a whim. Everything is thought out in advance and prep–small tasks like shelling beans, peeling potatoes and making stock–is done before the first diner ever walks through the restaurant’s front door. The chaos of a busy kitchen is powerful enough to ruin any chef–regardless of their training and stature–if they haven’t properly organized, planned and maintained great technique.

Thanks to several recent off-the-clock visits with the chefs of Hatfield’s restaurant, I’ve been able to pick up a lot of great ideas I frequently use at home. Beyond learning about the best inexpensive kitchen tools, I’ve also been able to pick up some key cooking techniques. The following recipe is a great example of how learning an invaluable and time-tested cooking technique can make cooking at home so much easier.

Thanks to the generous guidance of my Michelin starred chef friend, Quinn Hatfield, I now am pretty certain how he makes Alaskan halibut taste so good. This recipe is a slightly modified version of a dish I recently tasted Hatfield’s.

Alaskan Halibut can be sublimely sophisticated when good planning, preparation and technique are employed. Advanced prep is the key to creating this elegant entree without ever breaking a sweat.

Before you start, read the recipe through from beginning to end

Rather than cook as you go, think about meal preparation as a two part process: prep and then cooking. Preparing dish elements in advance is an adjustment, but with all the chopping and complicated busy work taken care of in advance, there’s a lot less stress in the kitchen at dinner hour.

Hatfield's at Home

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Crusted Alaskan Halibut with Shrimp Mousseline and Spring Vegetables**
Makes 4For the fish:
4-6 oz. halibut fillets with skin removed (Check for pin bones. Remove with tweezers, if necessary)
1 small loaf of brioche (to be frozen in advance of prep)
shrimp mousseline (see ingredient list below)
parsley butter (see ingredient list below)
Maldon sea salt

for shrimp mousseline
8 medium to large shrimp, with shells removed and de-veined
¼ cup heavy cream
1 small clove of garlic

for parsley butter
6 tbsp of butter, room temperature
¼ (heaping) cup of parsley leaves (removed from stem)
1 small clove of garlic
salt and pepper

Spring vegetables

3/4 lb of mixed spring vegetables (baby carrots, baby zucchini, baby pattipan squash)
6 sprigs of thyme
4 tbsp butter or olive oil
salt and pepper
Maldon sea salt

Tools needed: metal cake tester, wax paper, pastry brush, steamer, mini-Cuisinart (or blender), mandoline (inexpensive plastic version can be found at Asian markets or at cooking stores like this.

Mise-en-place (can be done several hours in advance):

Cut brioche in half. Freeze the bottom half and save the rest for another use. When the bread is completely frozen, remove the crust and slice the bread into rectangular strips that mirror the shape of the fish fillets. Keep in mind you will only need to slice enough bread to create a single layered “crust” for each fillet. Slices should be no thicker than 1/8th of an inch. Line a sheet tray with a sheet of wax paper then add the brioche in a single layer. Cover with clear plastic and refrigerate.

To make the mousseline:
Place the cleaned shrimp, cream and garlic in the bowl of a mini Cuisinart. Purée until mixture is thick like a paste. Remove from bowl with a spatula and refrigerate in a covered container.

To make the parsley butter

Clean the Cuisinart’s bowl. Add butter, picked parsley leaves and garlic. Purée until smooth. Temper the butter over a low heat in a small saucepan or non-stick pan. When tempered, remove the brioche slices from the refrigerator. Spread parsley butter onto one side of bread. Flip the bread (butter side down) on the wax paper. Save remaining scallion butter for bruschetta or buttering bread.

Fish prep:

Spread a thin layer of mousse on the fish with the back of a spoon. When finished, salt and pepper both sides of the fish. Using the shrimp purée as a sort of glue, flip the fish (mousseline side down) onto the unbuttered side of the brioche bread.Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready.

composing the fish

45 minutes before serving time:

Remove sheet tray with prepped fish. Carefully flip the fish so that the wax paper is top side up. Cut around the wax paper so that each fish has wax paper covering its bread crust.

Add several inches worth of water to a pasta/vegetable steamer. When steamer has begun producing steam add the prepared fish, keeping the covered crust facing up. Do not crowd the fish. Crack the lid with a spoon, making sure the lid is tilted at an angle—otherwise the condensation will make the bread soggy.

Let the fish steam for 20 minutes. Carefully remove one piece of fish with a spatula. Using the cake tester to check the done-ness of the fish, insert the thin metal pick into the fish horizontally so that the tester hits each of the fish’s internal segments. If you feel the ping-ping-ping of the connective tissue, the fish will need more time to cook. Return to steamer. When the cooking is complete, the connective tissue will be buttery smooth and can not be perceived by the cake tester method.

Meanwhile, heat a small sauté pan over a medium heat. Add butter and, when melted, add the spring vegetables (if cooking carrots, add first before softer vegetables). Sauté until just soft. Add a sprinkling of thyme, salt and pepper. Taste and adjust for seasoning and cooking temperature. Remove vegetables.

When fish is finished steaming, add a generous tablespoon of butter to the warm sauté pan. When the butter has melted, carefully add one or two of the fish fillets (breading side down) to the pan. The point here is to quickly brown the bread, no more than 30 seconds to a minute. Carefully remove the fish and place on a warmed plate. Repeat with the other two fillets.

Spoon vegetables on the side of the warmed plates. Sprinkle the fish with Maldon sea salt and serve.

Should you decide to host a dinner party and skip going out for dinner altogether (despite the fact that there are plenty of restaurants out there willing to slash prices to get you in the door), this Alaskan Halibut is an excellent choice for maintaining calm in the kitchen as your guests arrive.

*Chefs are like pirates: they like danger, work odd hours, enjoy free time with an undeniable vigor, have fascinating stories to share and fire and sharp steel are their friends.

**This photo shows this dish made with Fregola sarda (a round pasta that resembles cous cous). I chose not to include prep for the pasta so as not to overwhelm!

How to clean and cook Dungeness crab

Out of the Kitchen
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

Out of the Kitchen

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.

Out of the Kitchen

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

Out of the Kitchen

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

Crab how to

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.

Out of the Kitchen
Out of the Kitchen

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.

Out of the Kitchen

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

Out of the Kitchen

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!

Prosciutto Wrapped Scallops: A Recipe from Alice Waters

After some seven months of posting recipes and food reviews, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a culinary request from my filmmaker-friend, Jesse:

I have a question to ask you: I’ve started hosting these little soirees at my house lately- a small group of intellectuals and artist types, who come for an evening of frolic, food and film. I pick a film that most of them have not seen or not seen in years, and design a meal around the film’s locale or origin.

We started with “Big Night” and I made timpano. Then we did a Chinese evening with “The Last Emperor” (my 2nd favorite film…”City Lights” is still #1 in my heart). And for my next eve, we are hitting the streets of Paris, with a George Roy Hill film I’ve always loved, “A Little Romance,” starring a young Diane Lane and an old Laurence Olivier.

For the menu, I’m thinking “Paris Bistro”…but am having trouble coming up with ideas for courses. So I thought you might have some suggestions?

How exciting! A request for MY food advice?! Hooray! My food blogging has paid off! Someone values my culinary advice! Sure, Jesse is a good friend…but a food blogging person has to start somewhere. Right?

Being one to respect authority when it’s given to me, I decided to do some serious research. After much cookbook reading, I felt it best to turn to one of our country’s greatest culinary icons: Alice Waters. Since the early 70’s, Waters and her Chez Panisse team have created mouth-watering dishes inspired by the French Bistros she visited as a college student. At Chez Panisse Café, the simple dishes are thoughtfully prepared from fresh, local ingredients that are either foraged from local environs or purchased from nearby farms.

The following dish is an incredible example of how fresh ingredients, when paired well, can create a memorable bistro dish made only from a handful of simple ingredients.

Baked Scallops with Proscuitto and Lemon Relish
Adapted from the Chez Panisse Café cookbook

Ingredients:

1 pound medium-sized fresh sea scallops  Note: the scallops I bought were big enough to serve 2 scallops each (which are about 1/8 lb each). You may choose to cut big scallops in half—thereby creating the visual effect of a “larger portion size”

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

6 – 8 slices of Prosciutto

Handful of young greens (lettuce, cress, rocket or mache)

Few drops of red wine vinegar

Salt and Pepper

½ cup Lemon Relish*

Preheat oven to 475 F.

Remove the tough “foot” from each scallop. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Heat a cast-iron pan or a heavy, oven proof skillet over medium high heat. Pour in about 2 tablespoons of olive oil or enough to coat the bottom of the pan. When the oil is nearly smoking, add the scallops in one layer. As soon as the scallops begin to sizzle, place the uncovered skillet on the top shelf of the oven.

Check the scallops after five minutes. They should be nicely caramelized and firm to the touch. If the top portion is not yet golden colored, gently flip the scallops with a fish spatula in order to caramelize the other side. Cook for an additional 2-3 minutes, or until caramelized. Remove from oven.

Drape the prosciutto slices over and around the scallops.

Quickly, put the handful of greens in a small mixing bowl and lightly drizzle with a touch of olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt and pepper. Toss by hand. Add individual portions of seasoned greens to each plate and then arrange the prosciutto wrapped scallops on top. Spoon a small amount of Lemon Relish over each serving.

Note: You may want to serve one perfectly wrapped scallop as a delicious first course, or a few as an incredibly satisfying main.

*LEMON RELISH
Adapted from the Chez Panisse Cafe Cookbook

1 large shallot, diced fine

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar (or lemon juice)1 large lemon (if Meyer lemon is available use it!)

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 tablespoon chopped tarragon

Salt and Pepper to Taste

Put diced shallot in a small bowl. Add vinegar and a pinch of salt. Let macerate for 10 to 15 minutes. Cut lemon into 8 wedges. Remove the seeds and white pith from center of each piece. Cut across the wedge into thin, triangular slivers. Combine the slivered lemon and shallot and add more salt. Stir in the olive oil, parsley, tarragon and some freshly milled pepper. Taste and adjust for seasoning.

Spoon relish on top of prosciutto wrapped scallops.

Hand me down cravings


Like a yawn, cravings are passed on. Almost anyone that spends time reading food blogs will at some time suffer from this culinary side effect. All it takes is one long look at a mouthwatering on-line photo and the craving is practically downloaded like an attachment.

Cravings, that undeniable hunger for a specific ingredient, are something I’ve been experiencing a lot lately. It seems that the more time I spend food blog hopping, the more I experience these acute longings for the strangest dishes. For weeks, I was tortured with the need to devour handfuls of home made granola after reading a post on Orangette. After a lifetime of fearing dessert making, my food-blog inspired craving motivated me to make a pot au crème from scratch. After eating a particular butternut squash dish in Italy, I spend a week buying different kinds of cheeses in hopes of perfecting the recipe, post about it and then, a few days later, discovered I had passed on my unique squash craving to a fellow foodie. And now, for the first time in a lifetime of cravings, I can’t get the idea of a sardine sandwich out of my head.

Sardines?

Yeah. I couldn’t believe it either. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I read Mattbites post on sardines. Fishy, up to this point of my life, has never been a word I’d use to describe any food I yearn for. But thanks to the Internet, things change fast.

But here I am, with the unmistakeable smell of sardine oil on my fingers, to tell you about the sardine sandwich that saved me from my non-stop culinary distraction.

With a craving for sardines firmly implanted in my mind, I set out for the Hollywood farmer’s market in search of ingredients for the perfect sandwich. While there, I stumbled upon a hydroponic farmer selling bags of perfect greens and herbs.

Their baby celery was unlike any celery I had ever seen before. It was so light and leafy, it almost passed as a bag of cilantro. Besides being mostly all leaves, it had thin, pencil-lead sized stalks that when sliced, created perfect little squares of color, like a thinly chopped chive. I had found the perfect center point for my long awaited sardine sandwich.

Sardine and market-fresh celery and radish salad sandwich
makes 2 servings

Half a baguette (or any other crusty bread)
1/2 cup chopped celery leaves and stalks of hydroponic celery (or, using a normal celery plant, use ¼ cup celery leaves and a ¼ cup thinly sliced celery stalks)
2 thinly sliced and halved radishes.
4 tablespoons of good olive oil
2 tablespoons of a great tasting, aged red wine vinegar
At least 1 can of sardines
salt and pepper to taste

Mix the chopped celery and radish in a bowl. Mix in the oil and vinegar and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Open face style is the easiest way to eat this sandwich, but you should cut your baguette any way you like. Add a heaping tablespoon of celery radish salad to the bread and top with one to two sardine filets. Sprinkle with salt and devour until your craving is satisfied.