Rant: It's all about the food....

I like to cook…but I am not a chef.  “Chef” is a term that is bandied about too freely, a label that is used by far too many people, even those that appear on (gasp!!) THE FOOD NETWORK™. 

There, I said it. 

There are less real chefs out there than what people think. And it is not a put-down.  There is nothing wrong with being a good cook.  Think about the best meal you shared in someone’s home.  Any number of things may have contributed to your memories.  It may been the ingredients, the care in which they were prepared, the presentation of the dish, or the company in which it was enjoyed.  Without hesitation, I will guarantee the person who made it is not a chef.  Your grandma may make the greatest lasagna, your cousin may smoke a mean rack of ribs, and you may make a great plate of nachos, but that does not make any of you a “Chef.”  Does grandma know her basic sauces?  Does your cousin know how to properly fillet and prepare a dozen types of fish?  Can you properly cook a steak or chicken without having to cut into it to see if it is done?  If you answered no to any of these, you are not a “Chef.” (FYI:  I don’t know any of that crap either.  That’s why I am not a chef.)  BTW, if you mix your salt and pepper together to make it easier when cooking, you definitely are not a chef, and may not even qualify to be called a “cook.”

While I am on a rant, I am not a “Foodie.”  What seemed to be an innocent enough term a few years ago now evokes less-than-positive emotions in me.  You see, “Foodie” has become “Douche-y.”  Want an example?  On the local PBS station, they have a show where three “ordinary” folks (“Foodies”)  each pick their favorite local restaurant, dine separately, and then discuss their respective experiences. 

I have seen restaurants receive criticism for the following B.S.: 

Parking; portions are too big; portions too small; music too loud; wait staff too attentive; wait staff not attentive enough; atmosphere;  ambience;  décor;  too many locals;  not enough locals;  not authentic;  too authentic; waited for food; food came out too soon, etc.  

Conversely, I have seen restaurants receive high marks for the following B.S.: 

Parking; portions are too big; portions too small; music in background; wait staff too attentive; wait staff not attentive enough; atmosphere;  ambience;  décor;  too many locals;  not enough locals;  not authentic;  too authentic; waited for food;  food came out too soon, etc, etc, blah, blah, etc...

WHEN DID WE LOSE SIGHT OF THE FOOD? 

Too often, the level of pretentiousness in blogs, TV, and articles obscure the most important questions:  Does it taste good? What are the ingredients?  Is it fresh?  How is it made?   The food does not taste better because the bed of  “micro greens” came from an organic sustainable farm run by blind refugee Himalayan Monks, or that they were fertilized with free-range-hormone-free chicken poop from the same chicken ranch that Thomas Keller (a REAL CHEF and owner of the French Laundry in Yountville) obtains his fowl, or because no dolphins or whales were harmed during the harvest.  These facts don’t make the dish tastier.  (If you haven’t figured it out yet,  I don’t give a rat’s ass about micro greens.  For the record, my favorite salad is the one they give you for FREE with the steak and baked potato.  In my mind, no salad is worth $10.  Just tell the waiter to hold the salad and credit you back a few bucks the next time you order a steak. In fact, call me collect and let me know how well that goes over at House of Prime Rib).

Case in point; here are two great meals.  Great for completely different reasons:

This is a representative of the seared Ahi you can get at Emeril’s New Orleans Fish House, located in the MGM Casino in Las Vegas. 

I have enjoyed the tasting menu, and this two-bite fish portion cost represented about $15 worth of the five-course, $75 dinner.  Did it taste great?  You betcha it did.  The overall meal was tasty.  The wait staff were extremely professional.  There is a two story wine rack in the place.  There was great romantic mood lighting (which DID NOT make me desire in any-which-way-or-form my three dining companions, Rob, Matt, and Bruce).  

The experience was sublime.   

The fact that a well known Food Network star had his name on the place did not make it better.  I was actually skeptical at first, as I expected there to be a big animated crawdad out front of the restaurant, wearing a chef’s hat and yelling “BAM” every 30 seconds.   If there were micro greens anywhere on the menu, it did not matter who picked them because it was not about the self-congratulatory list of sustainable ingredients, or the celebrity name, or the actual chef in the kitchen.  IT WAS ABOUT THE FOOD!

This is what I had for dinner on Sunday night, January 21, 2013:

Chicken, cooked over mesquite wood on the small grill with some garlic and lemon pepper; small purple and fingerling potatoes drizzled with olive oil and tossed with black pepper and salt before roasting; and a Fosters.

On that Sunday night, it was the perfect meal.   The chicken was Foster Farms, $ .99 a pound at Safeway.  Grand total, with beer, was about $10 bucks. And we had leftovers.  Did it really matter that it wasn’t  “All-Natural Poulet Rouge” from Niman Ranch.  No shit, here’s what their website says:

Our line Epicure Reserve(tm) poultry is patterned after the award winning Label Rouge (Red Label) program in France, responding to increased demand for humanely and traditionally-raised farm poultry. The Label Rouge program is the gold standard for naturally raised, premium products. We are proud to bring this delicious poultry to our customers.  While the parent stock for our Niman Ranch Epicure Reserve birds is imported from France to ensure the exact genetics, all of our birds are born and grown in the continental U.S. [using] Traditional Old-World Farming Techniques.

Get ready for this one:  $40 and change for a 3 pound bird (OK, about $15 is shipping). 

I want to meet the person who spends over $13.00 a pound for chicken.  Uncooked.  And as for fresh…it takes a few days to have it shipped to you.  Just like the Foster Farms bird from Safeway.

And speaking of Thomas Keller, the aforementioned Demigod-Chef, who runs two Michelin three-star restaurants (the aforementioned French Laundry, and Bouchon)…What everybody orders at Bouchon, his café-bistro, are the fries. I have had them, and they are good.  In the Bouchon cookbook, a glossy photo accompanies the recipe.  There are many changes of water to remove the starch before the first cooking, and the usual twice-fried technique. His oil temperatures are a straight-forward 325°F and then 375°F. Just peanut oil and russet potatoes, tossed with kosher salt at the end. It is not a revelation of any special technique or ingredients. Most any source would agree with those cooking temperatures, which makes one wonder how much better fries can really be if they are all cooked more or less the same way. What really makes his fries so good? It must be the potatoes themselves.

Well, a while ago, a tipster told New York magazine that he used FROZEN FRIGGIN’ POTATOES.  It was then confirmed by a rep at Bouchon: Keller DOES use frozen French fries, possibly from Sysco, the largest food-supply company in North America.  Their reasoning?  (1) Consistency of the frozen product; and (2) they use over 200 lbs. of fries daily.  Oh, by the way, Sysco only has one type of French fry.  The same kind you get at your local diner (just look for the Sysco truck by the back door). 

First stop is the Mall...next stop,Yountville!

 And how much does he charge for these frozen fries?  On his menu, under LES  ACCOMPAGNEMENTS, he lists Pommes Frites for $7.00.  He also has the cojones to offer Purée de Pommes de Terre for $6.50.  To us non-foodies, it’s MASHED POTATOES.  WTF??

At this rate, his Purée de Pommes de Terre is probably straight from the box.-

Next thing you know, they’ll be telling me that there is no milk in Milk Duds, or no grapes in Grapenuts. 

Hot Sauce Part 1: Sriracha

Meet Fumin' Ku, the Island God of spicy goodness..

Fumin' Ku will serve as our ongoing guide to all things spicy and tasty.  Despite what I or others may like, the ultimate test requires me to place the item on Ku's head, as a offering to appease his fiery spirit. If the sun continues to shine, birds sing, etc, after the offering is placed on his head, you have chosen wisely.   However, if volcanoes erupt, lightening strikes, or or my bourbon mysteriously curdles or turns into soy milk,  I know that I have made a poor choice.

Today, we will look at Sriracha Hot Sauce (the branded product, not the generic family of hot sauces). Sriracha is often seen on tables at just about every Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean, or Thai restaurant.  Also known as  "Rooster Sauce", it is recognized by its bright red color with a green cap, text in five languages (Vietnamese, English, Chinese, French and Spanish) and the rooster logo.

In Dec. 2009, Bon Appétit magazine named Sriracha "Ingredient of the Year" for 2010, and in their December 2012 magazine, they listed it as one of the 50 items that should be in every pantry, therefore earning the "Bon Appétit Seal of Approval." Interestingly, it was created and is made in the good ol' USA, and differs from its Asian counterparts.

What I like about Sriracha is the flavor/heat balance it provides. The chilies have a nice level of heat and a slightly smoky flavor which blends well with the garlic. The second flavor you get is sweet, which comes through immediately after the initial heat.  Interestingly, the heat varies from bottle to bottle. I’ve read it described as "a kind of a Russian roulette style hot sauce."

In honor of this post, I created THE CUBAN COMMIE COCKTAIL

2 shots spiced rum

2 shots vodka

1 shot (yes, a whole shot) of Sriracha

juice of one lemon

Pour all ingredients in a tall glass of ice, stir, and enjoy!

Is it good?  Damn skippy, it's mighty fine!  And Fumin Ku approves, as shown below..

Until next time..

Grilling a piggie... a photo essay of sorts

Grilling a piggie takes some planning, from obtaining the piggie, deciding on the marinade and rub, and implementing the best cooking method and heat source.  It is also important to take care of both the physical and metaphysical needs of the cook.   Thanks to Bill C. for the photos and moral support, and for Jim and Shelly D. for finding the source of pork.

The local markets near me could get BIG pigs, from 70 to 150 pounds.  As a first foray into piggie roasting, I wanted to start smaller in the event an unexpected  meteor shower struck the BBQ or there was a error in the Mayan Calendar, causing the world to end before the entire pig could be consumed.

The piggie was procured at Longranch in Manteca.  I paid $90 and left with 30lbs of fresh porcine wonder in a cooler.  Once home, it was marinaded overnight in a simple brine of salt, sugar, and lots of fresh lemon juice.

The piggies was to be cooked on a BBQ trailer, the kind with no lid, over mesquite charcoal.  The piggie was rubbed with garlic salt, more garlic powder, paprika, black pepper, olive oil, lemon pepper, and rosemary. 

He was placed on the grill.   Here we see Mark G. (a brother from another mother and fellow chin-hair sportin' dude) helping with the correct placement, while Bob M. supervises from a safe distance.

 

The piggie was then covered with a piece of aluminum patio roof material, and first roasted on his back to get the skin rendered and crispy.  He was basted with apple juice during the entire cooking process...(Don't worry about cigar ash...I'm a specialist and have undergone hours of rigorous training under adverse conditions).

At times, the pig just had to sit and roast.  That was the time to relax and contemplate the mysteries of the Universe..

(Warning...WHITE TRASH ALERT!!!)

The photo below shows the "right way" to chillax while grilling the pig.  First of all, my ancestors did not risk life and limb to leave their homeland almost 400 years ago, sail to this new, uncharted land and fight for our freedom, forging a nation from from the untamed wilds, only to have their progeny perch precariously on aluminum and plastic chairs.  A man needs to acknowledge and honor those who blazed the trails before him through their sheer will and determination by sitting in a chair that is both steadfast, dependable, and rock-solid.  Hence, the recliner. 

 I know, the fight for freedom is often not attractive, but sometimes one has to take a stand (or sit).

A little bourbon and a fine Gurkha Torpedo maduro cigar certainly puts everything in perspective and may be credited for the look of contentment on my face (Also, I was not worried that the chair, christened "Manifest Destiny," would fail to support my "Congress," a.k.a the Senate (right cheek) and the House (left cheek). 

Special Thanks to Bill C. for donating the fine chair.

The piggie went on the coals at 2:00 pm, and by 5:30 was ready for serving.  The photo below speaks for itself...

 Until next time...

SNOB ALERT!! (Well deserved, I'll admit)

So...my friend Insa sent me an email regarding my first blog post:

"Love your blog!! Except I have a complaint!!! What do you mean making a turkey pot pie with condensed soup, instead of a with Roux/béchamel sauce ...seriously? Well, I'll continue to read...but NO CANNED SOUP!!!!
You have a  point, Insa.  When I decidedly show my "White Trash" side,*  I will post an advance warning:

*Yes, all men have a wee bit o' White Trash running through them, some more than others...not that there is anything wrong with that. 

Don't deny it, boys.  Just embrace it, and enjoy (I see a future blog posting here....)

Meet the pig.  Helluva way to start a blog...and if you were the pig, it REALLY was one helluva way to start the New Year. You see, on Saturday, December 29, 2012, the pig was living his piggie life on terra firma.  On Sunday, December 30, 2012, he had been processed and awaiting pickup, resting in a cooler a few scant yards away from where he lived his piggie life.  By Monday evening, he had been marinated, roasted, and ultimately, consumed (have faith, the piggie roast will be the subject of a future post).

The pig did not die in vain.  He was good.

Really good.

But why start with such a grim post?  Because, although we all enjoy food, we often don't contemplate where it comes from, the process(es) required for preparation, and the wonderful options we have living in this specific time and place in history.  Although my future "piggie roast" post will only cover the cooking of the pig, I will tell you that I witnessed how a piggie is processed.  It is merciless, primal, and gory.  I have cleaned and gutted small game and fish myself, an integral part of hunting and fishing, but I was taken aback by the expediency of the processors and their ability to do this task over and over, day after day.  I also noticed that at the piggie processing shop, I was the only "Gringo," surrounded by fellow customers that were entirely at ease, chatting and laughing, oblivious to the carnage occurring a few feet away.  These were people that understood where their food came from, and they were comfortable with the "circle of life," acknowledging that the sacrifice of the piggie's life  provided nourishment for them and their progeny, as it had for previous untold generations.

Okay..... maybe I am romanticizing the whole process, and that at that precise moment I was actually surrounded by two dozen maladjusted, bloodthirsty people that coincidentally were all hardened by life to the butchery they were witnessing, wanting only to render the piggie into a yet another snack.  Either way, I certainly gained respect that day, both for the piggies and the processors.  It is in this spirit that this blog will be written, with respect to the food and those involved in its making.

PS:  For those who want a dose of ordinary, here was dinner on January 1, 2013:  Turkey Pot Pie with Biscuit Crust.

Took leftover turkey and root vegetables (leeks, onions, garlic cloves, red potatoes, yams), put in casserole and covered with condensed cream of mushroom soup thinned with white wine.  Heated for 15 minutes in 400 degree oven until bubbly, and covered with biscuit dough (you can use bisquick or pop n' fresh if you lack the will to make biscuits from scratch).  Return to oven for an additional 15 minutes until browned.  Let rest for a few minutes, and enjoy!