And in other green news, one more reason to love fungi:
" 'Growable' Homes Made With Mushrooms"
Spores as the latest means for fire-proof insulation? Sweet.
[Discovery Channel News]
I dedicate this post to the delicious sautéed morels that my dear friends and April roomies Adam and Julia made the other week...
I'll have to follow up with the recipe when I can pin it down.
So far, today's favorite reads are all green.
The official announcement of Slow Food Nation '08 in none other than the glorious S.F. [SFGate.com]
Barbara Kingsolver's non-fiction debut, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.
[Bon Appétit Editor's Blog]
I'm inspired to plant a midsummer garden and harvest my own veggies...I bet my new roommates won't care. Mom, Dad, objections?
I don't normally look for wine advice in Details Magazine, however, I was enjoying a delicious rosé with my dear friend Xan the other evening, and, while casually flipping through the men's 'zine, was surprised to see a feature on the pinkest of all wines...And they aptly celebrate it for it's invigorating versatility: "Any wine that pairs as well with a bacon cheesburger as it does with butter poached lobster is a poor candidate for overanalysis." Concur.
The two of us were, however, thrown off by the fact that the picture accompanying the article was of rosé served in an old-fashioned glass. Which got Xan and I to discussing the most ideal container to serve rosé in: A champagne flute seemed to hifalutin for the modest refreshment...the red wine glass would only warm it up when you really just want to retain it's cool crispness...leaving the white wine glass as the obvious answer...So an old-fashioned glass? I understand the liquid is pink and a picture of a bunch of dudes sitting around drinking Rosé in wine glasses may not resonate with readers, but it's not a cocktail, it's wine. So if you're gonna go pink, fellas, go all the way.
Xan & I's budget fave (I credit her 100% with this discovery!)
2005 La Ferme Julien Rose, Cotes Du Ventoux ($4.99 at Trader Joe's)
We'll be drinking this dry, fruity blend of Cinsualt, Grenache and Syrah through Labor Day. It's summer picnic-ing perfect in a screw-top bottle—strawberry first, cherry second and a teeny little spice in third that will keep you sipping well into the evening.
From the NYT Dining & Wine section today "A No-Frills Kitchen Still Cooks" was one of the most resourceful and down-to-earth articles I've read in quite some time. An absolute must-read for any of us who can be, at times, daunted by the flood of specialty cookware that high-end companies push as the secret to gourmet food. The whole article was absolutely spot-on, and a must read—a gentle reminder to every earnest, intrepid cook to keep the following close to heart: "Lavish tools and state-of-the art equipment does not necessarily a good meal make."
I will NOT be purchasing an electric vacuum marinator anytime soon.
I cannot believe how fast Sprinkles jumped on the retail bandwagon! New at Williams-Sonoma! And you even get the B.H. bakery "visual signature" cupcake decoration...I'm not sure how I feel about that yet. I cannot wait to test this out and compare against the real deal from the bakery. And if it lives up to standard, I will be very happy to know where to get a sprinkles fix given my upcoming departure from L.A. :(
The great news is that Rachael Ray recently launched a non-profit organization, the mission of which I think is fantastic. I love her three-tiered (Cook. Feed. Fund.) focus and I want to support it. I do.
BUT, the bad news is that she had to go and destroy the credence of the organization by naming it after one of her Rachael-isms—Yum-o!
How can you possibly take this seriously?
Direct from the website:
[ "Yum-o!" is the sound you make when you eat something really delicious. It is kind of a combination of "Yummy!" and "Oh wow!" You can't help but smile when you say it because it's such a fun word to say."]
I have nothing against slang, acronyms, even well thought out "isms"...But this is sad. It's a brainless substitution for the many ways to articulate the experience of tasting something delicious.
"Sweetie, do you like the chicken?"
"It's Yum-o!"
Not cool Rach.
After three years of living on the East side, I managed to fulfill a long-standing foodie fantasy of mine last night: A late night slice of pie and a cup of joe at House of Pies in Los Feliz. 
I've always had a soft spot for coffee shops, at any hour, and I couldn't wait to try some pie. And HOP meets all expectations. It's a pleasant little diner that envelops you in a safe blanket of coziness the minute you walk in. It's 24-hour coffee-shop familiarity at it's finest. You know the menu by memory, you've eaten breakfast there a hundred times—as a 5-year old with the family, as a 15-year old with your friends after a football game, as a 22-year old, hungover with your college pals. And you'll probably dine there a hundred times more. So perhaps it's that relaxing sense of security the HOP conjures—when you can stretch out, two to a big, plasticy booth—that nudges one to spill personal secrets, but Sunday night with pie was a delightful confessional.
And whether there's a real link between sinfully-sweet slices of pie (Southern Pecan for me, Blueberry for my partner in crime) and the urge to swap guilty confessions, I'll never know. But bite after bite, as stomachs grew heavier, hearts felt lighter, and the moment of food and friendship set in, I realized that sometimes there is no better cure-all (for the guilty or innocent) than a 24-hour coffee-shop confessional good conversation.
The House of Pies, 1869 N Vermont Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90027; (323) 666-9961
MNMC member Sean Freisen was culinary king last night, 
and what a feast he created! We convened around 7:30 for a delicious meal of Chicken Piccata, Roasted Asparagus and Rosemary Ciabatta. The chicken cutlets were perfectly cooked, and the sauce was brilliant. It was the perfect consistency, silky and layered from the reduction of lemony-tartness, capery-saltiness and the browned-meaty richness. ( I think I made all those words up). The asparagus were an excellent side dish, holding their own against the pronounced flavor of the sauce, and all of us could not stop eating. But our lively chef of the hour didn't stop there. As we finished up glasses of wine and got ready to start the movie for the evening, Children of Men, Sean whipped up dessert: Rice pudding with raspberries. But the name doesn't do justice to the most amazing rice pudding I've had. One taste, and I detected the slightest hind of citrus (orange zest, I was told). A second taste uncovered sweet basil. A lovely combination with the raspberries and pudding. Yum.
I'd also like to share a very important fact that the youngest member of the MNMC, Jett, taught me last night: Babies make great knife-sharpening audiences. Who would have thought? Maybe it was the metallic notes of knife striking sharpener, but he was fixated as he sat on Annie's lap watching my every move. And very supportive—breaking out in a huge grin if I sharpened with speed, and shrieking a little cry of encouragement to keep going if I started slacking off. What a kid!
I generally don't like cocktail snobbery (who cares if someone "orders" incorrectly? To each her own), but a few sage words written by a "Martini Classicist" in the NYT (click here) today gave me reason to pause and re-consider my blatant irreverence for the original, unadulterated martini.
Definition a la Merriam Webster: mar•ti•ni• n : a cocktail made of gin and dry vermouth
And so, as an eager-to-reform member of the “generation lobotomized by vodka,” I'd like to re-visit my penchant for a martini after an official gin tasting extravaganza. Will I be able to detect hints of cardamom, cinnamon, lemon peel in these gins? Who knows. In fact, I may not end up liking any of them, but I'll try it before I knock it...
I prefer ordering my beloved dirty martini Ketel with a splash of olive juice on the rocks anyways!
Any one else game for some gin tasting?
I blame my late spring restlessness on our school system. It's classical conditioning at it's harshest: the arrival of May means summer vacation and zero responsibility just around the corner, right? Well, until you grow up. And no matter how many years go by sans summer vacay, I still find myself, like today, hit with a case of near-summer wanderlust, wanting to play outside, adventure to new places, and snack on treats all day long. Which is why I love the NYT Travel section. It allows me to be an escape artist at her finest, reinventing that notion of 2 weeks paid vacation we all know never really works. Today's destination: the French Alps. Snack of the day: Tartiflette. Travel time: 15 minutes. (article here)
Anyone have a good recipe for Tartiflette?
I want to re-create this melt-in-your mouth Mac & Cheese-meets-Scalloped Potatoes casserole asap.
The pickings were depressingly slim in the refrigerator when I got home this evening. The roomies were out of town, and I wasn't feeling inspired. After working a 7-hour brunch shift and a hike with my dog, however, I was in need of comfort carbs, fast. A quick inventory (tossing out the moldy cheeses and leftovers from last week), uncovered a package of mushroom & chicken ravioli from T.J.'s, eggs, parmesean and a handful of spinach and half a package of Toll House cookie dough. Not even a can of diced tomatoes to make a little sauce. I checked the freezer and the thought of turning the TJ frozen mini pizzas into dinner actually crossed my mind. Sigh. We were out of any other pasta, and I just couldn't bring myself to make another egg sandwich, so carbonara it was...but with ravioli. I was crossing my fingers. I was too hungry to fail at an edible meal tonight, too exhausted to get in my car and go anywhere, and too attached to my tip money to order in. Once I tossed the ravioli with the sauce, I added some dried herbs, garlic salt and tons of freshly ground pepper. I put the ravioli over a bed of spinach, and it was delicious. The spinach sort of takes the heaviness factor away from the rich carbonara sauce, too. Yum. Dessert: freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. And I had just enough for lunch tomorrow. Total cost: $0. Sometimes being broke can be a delicious thing.
Carbonara Ravioli:
1 Package ravioli (any pasta will do, really)
2 Eggs
1/8 C. milk (water will do if you're desperate!)
1/4 C. parmesean cheese
Fresh or dried herbs, to taste
Garlic Salt
Salt & Pepper
Spinach
In a small jar or measuring glass, beat the eggs, and mix in the cheese and milk. Add fresh garlic if you have it. If not, garlic salt at the end is delicious as well. Once the pasta is cooked, drain well, and return to pot. Quickly coat the pasta with the sauce, and toss well to coat and cook the egg. The sauce should thicken, as you toss the pasta. This usually takes about 2-3 minutes. If it's not thickening, turn on the heat to medium-low while coating the pasta. Serve over a bed of spinach, or whatever you have in the fridge, with lots of parm and freshly ground pepper on top.
Ahhh! From the NYT Food Section (article here): I love that Prince Charles has his very own line of organic products—Duchy Originals—,
is the Royal Patron of the Soil Association, and has charmed the "Slow Food principle" pants off of Ms. Alice Waters herself. I totally want to go find some of these yummy looking ginger biscuits at Whole Foods.
Last Wednesday a bunch of friends got together for a little mid-week dinner party. It was a good old-fashioned potluck and the food was fantastic. Grill master Xan served up perfectly-cooked herbed chicken, Julia and Adam made excellent use of the cast-iron pan with a delectable dish of stuffed tomatoes over polenta, and I whipped up a cold orzo salad with feta, olives and a lemony-vinaigrette. Throw in toasted pita, hummus and tzatziki courtesy of Krissy Wall, and it was a serious Mediterranean spread.
But I think I have to hand the Luckiest Pot-of-the-Evening award to the biggest green tea enthusiast in Silver Lake: Grant Saltarelli. We all know how much he loves his green tea (some one get this kid sponsored!), but he really proved himself a mixologist-in-the-making with this brilliant signature cocktail: the Grant Green Tini. And the boy's got heart. 
He hand-measured, shook, and poured each one for each guest, and—after one sip—wanted to make sure it was just right. I know talent when I see it. Or something like that. So I sat him down for the full recipe and a few insider tips:
1 batch of brewed green tea (white tea also works well)
Honey
Stoli Citron Vodka
Cointreau
Ice
Martini Shaker
Brew the batch of green tea in advance. Brew it stronger than you would if you were just drinking it by itself, but not too long. You want the flavor to stand up against the citrus vodka, which can be overwhelming. Sweeten the tea with a little honey; let cool. In a martini shaker, mix 2 parts Citron Vodka with 1 part Cointreau. Add 60 mL of tea, and shake over ice. Strain into a chilled martini glass. Serve immediately. If it's too strong, add some tea.
Advice for future Green Tini Makers:
"Follow these guidelines, but suit yourself," says the Boy. "Make a batch, and see where you want to take it; adjust the ingredient amounts accordingly. And—most importantly—when shaking the shaker, shake it really hard and pour quickly!" As far as the type of Vodka goes...
"Stoli is great, but if you want some T & A to impress the ladies, go with Grey Goose Citron." G.S.
Cheers!
The weekend before last, I went on my very first Southern Adventure. Well, that's not exactly true, but considering I didn't eat much besides PBJ sandos, corn dogs and french fries for the first 12 years of my life, the family Alabama trip back in '92 doesn't count. My dear friend Natalia tied the knot in the very quaint and delightful town of Charleston, and I couldn't have been more thrilled to satisfy some of my Southern food fascination. After checking into my hotel in the historic downtown area, I rented a beach cruiser, and had the entire weekend to trek around town discovering all sorts of yummy treats.
The highlights of the Low Country included:
Kitchen soap at Charleston Cooks! 
They call themselves the maverick kitchen store, and it really was one of the most amazing specialty cooking shops I've been too. There was a class going on as I was in there that I got to peek my head into (culinary school, ahh, so excited), and they sell a ton of unique spices geared for cooking Low Country cuisine. The oyster bar at Hank's Seafood.
The baskets at the City Market near the waterfront 
The Shrimp & Grits at Nat's wedding, yummmm... And the Citrus Mint Martini (I didn't think a mint julep could be rivaled!) at the bar at Fig
I could have stayed another week!
On Friday night, my best friend and I ventured out of Silver Lake to try a restaurant by the name of KILLER SHRIMP [sweet logo,right?] 
I have never been so excited to try a new restaurant since my Dad visited L.A. last year and we went to A.O.C. (a meal I will never forget) We walked in, and I seriously was so excited I couldn't talk. The low-lying haunt in Studio City exudes the dark, seedy aura of a dive bar but with the lively decór of a 70's disco roller rink (yes, those are plastic beads hanging from the ceiling). They serve one thing for dinner: Shrimp. It's served Louisiana-style in a big bowl of cajun-spiced, buttery broth. A heap of crusty french bread in a paper-napkin lined metal colander arrives with the broth, along with some naked spaghetti noodles and a serving of white rice. Classy. And killer. In fact it's so good, you can only eat about 15 bites before you die. But not from the shrimp. From the let down that ensues when eating a dish you get sick of so fast [Side Note: there needs to be a phrase for that..."killer shrimped" perhaps. As in: "The pasta was good at first, but then the overpowering flavor of fennel killer shrimped it."]
Killer Shrimp promises a lot, and it does deliver—but only for about the first 10 minutes. Then it's over, and your taste buds are left, wanting, needing more. So we ordered a bottle of wine and asked for the dessert menu. We certainly weren't leaving this one-of-a-kind, killer environment just yet. And it's a good thing stayed, because the ginormous slice of chocolate cake with raspberry filling could never be killer shrimped.
Killer Shrimp, Ventura Blvd. & Colfax, Studio City, 818-508-1570
I did some very light grocery shopping at Gelsons last night (sometimes avoiding the disastrous Trader Joe's parking lot situation is worth the extra $10 on food) and for whatever reason the teensy fingerling potatoes, all squished together in a little package, caught my eye. But I had been craving a grilled chicken salad...Which led me to discover quite possibly my new favorite salad: Mixed baby greens, roasted fingerlings and grilled chicken tenders with sliced avocado. Toss it all together with olive oil, lemon juice, tarragon, honey and a dash of apple cider vinegar...mmmm. There's a lingering sweetness that is just wonderful with the creamy potatoes and avocado. A couple of paper-thin slices of red onion would have been nice...but it was still a lovely spring salad: fresh, light and filling...
4 C. mixed baby greens (or one pre-washed package)
1/2 lb. fingerling potatoes
1/2 lb. chicken breast tenders, washed, dried and sprinkled lightly with: salt, pepper, garlic salt & garlic powder.
1/2 ripe avocado
Dressing (amounts are estimated, play around with them to taste):
6-8 T. olive oil
2 T. Lemon Juice
1/2 T. Apple Cider Vinegar
1/2 T. Honey, plus additional to taste
1 T. chopped fresh tarragon
Salt & Pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
For the dressing: combine all the ingredients in a jar, mix well, and taste for adjustments. Set aside.
Toss potatoes lightly in olive oil, and sprinkle with salt, pepper and fresh rosemary. Roast until well-browned and tender in the middle, about 20-25 minutes. While potatoes are roasting, heat a grill or sauté pan, lightly coated with olive oil over medium-high heat. Grill the chicken tenders for about 4 minutes a side, until well-browned. At this point, I covered the grill-pan with a loose foil lid, and moved it into the oven to finish cooking the chicken. This keeps it very tender! Once the chicken is done, allow to cool slightly.
Toss the greens with enough of the dressing to coat. Cut the fingerlings into bite-sized pieces and add to the salad. Slice in 1/2 the avocado, and top with sliced chicken breast. Lightly toss to mix the ingredients, adding more dressing if necessary. I like to mix in the avocado especially well, as it lends a subtle creaminess to the salad that is a great substitute for cheese.
I finally had the time to indulge in the entire April issue of Bon Appétit yesterday. If you don't subscribe, go get it, or find the time to browse it online, because there is truly some awesome material in this particular issue. My favorite article, though, was At the Market: Beets
Fresh ideas, creative recipes, and they highlighted my absolute favorite: The Dr. Seuss-esque Chioggia beets. I love them, even though I can never find them. I welcome any suggestions on finding these little treats.
Beautiful, just beautiful...
Despite the fact that the Monday Night Movie Club has been on hiatus for a variety of reasons, we managed to convene this past Monday to enjoy the cinematic sampling we'll call: "Zodiac." Mmmm...Mark Ruffalo...yum.
Here's the thing...I would have liked to do dinner before hand...perhaps come up with a zodiac-appropriate (nor-cal influenced) menu...fresh, creative, organic...Is that creepy??
BUT, due to busy schedules and life in general, we had to settle for meeting at the theatre...which leads me to the theme of tonight's menu: Candy. I want to add, at this point, that this candy-centric post is officially dedicated to the one and only BEN STEIN. He's the newest member of the M.N.M.C., voted in on his unwavering stance on milk duds..always gotta have your own box, baby. always.
Top 10 Candy Accoutrement for Making the Movies THAT much better:
1. Milk Duds (own box, obvy)
2. Peanut M&M's
3. Haribo Gummy Worms
4. Violet Crumble (shot out to wallasaurus)
5. Skittles, Red pack
6. Starburst, Yellow pack (keep it real, originals...)
7. Red Vines, twists
8. Junior Mints
9. Haribo Gummy Cherries (anything Haribo, actually, is acceptable)
10. Pop Rocks. Just to be annoying.
Ben Stein, you're in.
Two words: Las Glorias.
One Special of the Day (everyday!): Mole.
"Las Glorias del Buen Comer" is the unpretentious little taco stand on Silver Lake Blvd. that may have the best mole I've ever discovered stateside. Since my first bite of their mole enchiladas, a serious addiction began developing and I'm beginning to think it may kill me. (Full disclosure: I've been there for a Mole fix 6 times in the last two weeks.) What's so different about Las Glorias' mole? For starters, it takes the form of Enchilada, Pollo, even special-order Burrito and/or Tacos. You can order Mole on everything. On anything. You can never get sick of it, because it's constantly changing form. And it's insanely affordable, making my addiction even more justifiable. Who could pass up a plate of 3 Mole enchiladas (chicken), a side of refried beans, rice and a handful of chips for $5? Exactly. And the ingredients are delicious and fresh—i'm yet to encounter a nasty piece of chicken. I've never been disappointed.
Go now. I dare you. Get your mole addiction on.
Las Glorias is located right across the street from the very baffling Silver Lake haunt: Mom's Donuts & Chinese Food To Go. There are two ways to enjoy your mole: the lovely, lush outdoor patio where the sounds of soft jazz muffle the traffic on Silver Lake Blvd., or you can get it to go and eat at home—where no one can judge you.
I love this:
Italian Murano Glass bowl
and I LOVE these:
Stonewear platters
Now where, oh where, can I get them??? I will find out, and modify this post...
