We had our practical for Hearth Breads & Rolls on Thursday, for which I had to make eight 1#2oz ciabatta loaves, 20 palmiers, and 3 large danish loaves with filling. I have gotten pretty comfortable with making breads, so even though making ciabatta has its potential hazards, it’s fun to work with that dough that has the playful instability of a slinky. The biggest trick was calculating the correct moisture loss during baking(it loses about 20% of its weight), and also scaling them carefully so that they all come out at the correct weight and that there was neither extra nor lacking dough. The laminated doughs, on the other hand, were a bit of a free for all. I tend to overwork, mis-shape, or otherwise annoy the dough. Too bad they made up 2/3’s of the test.

My body has recently adjusted to its early risings by waking up at 5am on weekdays, no matter what time I set my alarm for or I go to sleep, which is usually btw 12-1, so by Thursday, I’m tired enough to feel like I was walking in a dream where random things appear in front of me and I have to figure out why. I had tried to sharpen my mind on the way to school by listening to a great audiobook I’m in the middle of about the Lincoln administration’s handling of the Civil War, but somehow I got to school just as an account of the unexpected death of one of Lincoln’s children finished. I was as confused as ever.

Anyway, I did okay, but the fatigue wasn’t truly to blame. I went in knowing that I hadn’t perfected, or even done before, certain techniques. So, I did better than I expected, but not so good as I would ideally want to do. Everything except for a few scorched palmiers were not only edible but even tasty, so it was mostly shaping and baking time faults. I ended up with an 81, which is perfectly respectable even if it is probably the lowest grade I’ve ever gotten for anything…. and I can’t help unfairly thinking that I once did better at deciphering a neuroscience class than at making palmiers (um, for the first the time, anyway).

Given the dreamy haze, I can’t give a blow by blow account as I did before. I was talking to Chad the night before, who had read an article that claimed that people learn well through testing, and that the test itself is a useful learning exercise, so I think this practical is best described by the things that I learned and need to improve on.

Consistency. This is the over-arching concern. There was no luxury of selecting The Chosen One for evaluation, and that makes sense. When I’m eventually working, I need to reliably turn out saleable products. One good cookie out of a couple dozen would be pathetic. Things have to be the same weight, the same size, cooked to the same doneness, and generally look and taste similar.

So, the techniques that should have been improved here are: cutting things to the same thickness, cutting them straight, rolling out dough to an even thickness and a regular shape, and baking them to the same and correct doneness. Intellectually, I knew that these things had to be done and I even made efforts to do them, but I think I just need more practice or help with technique to do them correctly: I should have pursued this more in the previous weeks.

I usually analogize making sure that the products look okay to photography and filmmaking. Especially when I was working with a headshot photographer and with film/video crews, I learned not to focus only on what I want to shoot, but to deconstruct the frame into shapes, colors, and light. So, that means looking for shadows, looking for a clean border to the frame, and generally treating every element of the frame equally to make sure that the whole thing looks right. I try to do that when I’m working with food prep, but things just got away from me on Thursday.

Oh, but there was one amazing shining light of the practical. My ciabatta had seemed a bit too lumpy and oddly-shaped, but once sliced open, they revealed the most awe-inspiring crumb I’ve ever seen (and more cloud-like white than the pic suggests). In that moment, I was more awake than I’d been in years. It tasted great, too.

I’ll miss breads. When we first got our 12 Steps of Breadmaking packet and started baking them, it seemed like quite an odd and tricky ritual to make them. However, I’ve come to appreciate its peculiarities: the way the dough comes together, the catering to the appetite of the yeast, the endless assortment of shapes that rolls and loaves can take and how to achieve them, and the excitement that comes with taking out fresh loaves from the oven and slicing into, or breaking a piece off, a loaf. I even became accustomed to the imposing 4-level deck oven whose top level I can only look into by jumping; using the manual conveyor belt-like loader to load and peels to unload even became fun, too. And I think that moving loaves has started the process of de-sensitizing my hands to heat, which is good as long as it doesn’t get too extreme. And now I’m graced by a freezer full of bread that I’ve squirreled away for future use.

I’ve been slacking in posting pic’s of what we’ve made… So, here’s a final round up of most of our breads.

Ciabatta, potato bread crown, chocolate cherry panini (we baked some with coarse black pepper, and tried a honey glaze sprinkled with coarse black pepper on some plain ones).

Green olive bread, sourdough batard, rosemary bread. The cake of flour on the olive and rosemary comes from letting them proof upside-down in bannetons (Edit: bennetons) sprinkled with flour.

Lavash with a team-made zatar spice blend (thyme, sesame seeds, nigella seeds, salt, powdered sumac)

Naan made in the tandoor oven out back, topped with ghee and salt, and some stuffed with garlic and herbs.

Multigrain and Multigrain Sourdough.

A good ear.

You can now purchase my handmade candy bars and marshmallows at http://www.bonbonbar.com/
Note: This entry was edited on April 2, 2006, in order to make it a part of “Something Out Of Nothing” at Toast.

In his intro to this recipe, Mark Bittman claims that this Filipino classic has been called the best chicken dish in the world by a number of his friends. It’s also one of the easiest and cheapest, and is my fallback recipe for when I feel like having home-cooking, but don’t really want to or have time do it myself; I lived on it in college and during my first office job. It’s essentially chicken poached in a soy sauce/vinegar sauce that is then broiled until crispy. The chicken emerges juicy and accompanied by a balanced peppery/sweet/sour tangy sauce dotted with caramelized bits of garlic.

In 2002, it was one of the first real recipes I’d ever made, and at the time, I was dead precise about every aspect of its making; and my cut out of the original New York Times article was very stained before long. I soon discovered that it’s a supremely easy and flexible recipe that requires very little work and very few fresh ingredients (in a good way). All that needs to be chopped is the garlic, so you feel the accomplishment of having cut something up before letting it cook away on its own.

The dried chipotle pepper turns out the best (and you can easily store a stash of them), but I’ve also separately used dried chiles de arbol and a fresh habanero with good results; you can add more peppers for more spice.

You can use any cut of chicken that you like, and as little as two pounds. I don’t like dark chicken meat, so I sometimes use bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts… but since I don’t really like chicken skin, I usually use skinless and boneless…. which means that the broiling step is irrelevant. I like to think that saves time and paper towels, but of course, the more fat and bones the recipe has, the richer and more amazing the sauce is. You can also decrease the amount of the water for a more concentrated flavor and a more syrupy sauce. I’ve even made it without vinegar, and it still turned out good enough.

Even though it’s a great pairing, I usually don’t have rice or don’t want to make it, so I’m used to having this with frozen peas, haricots verts, or broccoli; in either case, these are durable items that can also be stashed away. You can heat leftovers in the broiler, microwave, or partially covered pot, thinning the sauce with a little water if necessary. Or, if you finish the chicken and have sauce leftover, it goes well over many vegetables. I have been told that I should try it with pork or potatoes instead, and I’m looking forward to doing that. I’ve never eaten any version of this dish, except for this one that I’ve always made.

And as far as price goes, I like that this is a relatively cheap recipe even if you have to buy all the ingredients at one time, and once you buy them, all you have to do to have it again is buy chicken, and possibly garlic. Back when I barely cooked or baked, I always bought things in small quantities, so I didn’t have a cupboard to fall back on. I didn’t buy butter or flour (or have containers to store them in), so I couldn’t bake on a whim. Instead, I always kept my eye out for dried chipotle peppers (which are often sold by weight… and are very light), and made sure that I had a bottle of soy sauce… or at least, many packets.

Probably it’s only negative is that it doesn’t photograph terribly well, poor thing.

Chicken Adobo

Conservatively adapted from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything
Serves 4
1 cup light soy sauce
½ cup white or rice vinegar
1 cup water
1 tbs chopped garlic
2 bay leaves
½ t. freshly ground black pepper
1 dried chipotle pepper
1 whole (3- to 4-pound) chicken, cut up

Combine the first six ingredients in a covered pot large enough to hold the chicken in one layer. Bring to a boil over high heat. Add the chicken; reduce the heat to medium-low or low. Simmer, covered, about 30 minutes, turning once or twice, until chicken is cooked through. (You may prepare the recipe in advance up to this point; refrigerate the chicken in the liquid, for up to a day before proceeding.)

Start a charcoal or wood fire or preheat a gas grill or broiler. The fire need not be too hot, but place the rack just 3 or 4 inches from the heat source.

Remove chicken, and dry it gently with paper towels. Boil liquid over high heat until it is reduced to about 1 cup; discard bay leaves and pepper, and keep sauce warm.

Meanwhile, grill or broil chicken until brown and crisp, 5 minutes per side. Serve sauce with chicken and white rice.

I’ve come to think of the wineries in this area as something like the casinos in Vegas. Not only does each winery lord over a comfortable patch of land like a casino, but each uses the architecture of its buildings and as much of what it considers glitz to attract and entertain its guests. I’ve even nicknamed one winery with a large fountain out front “The Bellagio.” You might find your way into a stone manor, a wooden barn, a replicated Persian palace, a Frank Gehry creation, a crowded barrel room, or a makeshift outdoor bar with glasses lined up… When you’re at a winery, you’re brought into the world of the winemakers and the environment that they want you to enjoy their wine in. Sure, Napa is more genteel than Vegas, but really, you’re going to drink. And if you impulsively gamble when drunk, you also impulsively buy bottles of wine when drunk. Not that that’s bad.

Anyway, this is my state of mind when I visit a winery, and it helps me see how each of the hundreds of wineries performs the same basic wine tasting service in different ways.

On Saturday, we arrived at Mumm Napa to taste their sparkling wines. I’d first tasted Mumm a couple years ago in a wonderful chocolate truffle at Boule in LA, and I was looking forward to tasting it on its own.

I found that the clean, modest architecture mirrored the vibe at Mumm. Instead of playing up the glamorous image of champagne/sparkling wine (as Domaine Chandon does very well elsewhere in the valley), Mumm is a rather casual environment where you can relax and enjoy an afternoon on the veranda, inside or outside, with some bubbles. Tastings range btw $8-20, and their 12 selections of sparkling wines range btw a quite reasonable $18-25 for most bottles, and up to $55.

We noticed that there were complimentary tours given every hour btw 10-3 (no sign up necessary; they last about 50 mins), so we decided to go on one first. I’ve been on several winery tours in the area, and they’ve usually been well worth it. I also have a theory that the more one knows about gambling, the more one gambles. I think this applies to wine, too.

Maybe my time spent with breads has clarified some yeast and fermentation issues for me, but I found the tour at Mumm to be one of the best I’ve been on. Straightforward, entertaining, and informative, it goes through the entire sparkling wine process, complete with visits to grape vines, fermentation tanks, etc. They also play a couple silent videos that the tourguide narrates. It ends with a walk through a beautiful Ansel Adams collection, and a legends of rock music photo exhibit. My thoughts turned to the random-ness of Vegas again.

Incidentally, the tour guide did at one point extol the virtues of a sparkling wine stopper to preserve your opened bottle for a few days. We have such stoppers for wine, and so we bought a couple in their unassuming little boxes for $7.50/ea. When we got home, we found that they both are prominently imprinted with “Mumm Napa” on the top. I think that they’ll come in handy, and that we should stay away from infomercials.

So, finally, we were up for tasting. Many wineries have a tasting bar that you stand at and are poured one glass at a time, but Mumm has individual tables and servers. AND crackers. A small thing, but I wish all wineries understood the need for people to eat something… anything… while tasting. Our waitress was just as informative as our tour guide, and very personable. We decided to share two tastings, and so wound up with 6 glasses.

The first three were “The Classics” tasting. Their most salient feature to me was the fruitiness that they finished with. From the left, the 2001 Blanc de Blanc had Granny Smith apple notes, the Brut Prestige (their signature blend) had cherry (though they claim peach and pear; whatever you taste, exists), and the Blanc de Noirs had strawberry. They are not particularly sweet, but I just liked these hints of flavor at the end.

The next three were their “Reserve Selections.” The 1999 DVX had a satisfying nuttiness, and the 1999 Santana DVX was a little sweeter than the rest (a portion of the proceeds of this wine will go to the Milagro Foundation. That’s nice, but I still don’t understand why I would want to drink a wine partially designed by a random musician; and the sweetness comes from a higher % of sugar added in the dosage, after the dead yeast is removed from the bottle), but the find of the day was the Brut Reserve. It immediately hits you with an earthy apricot flavor that floats into a creamy finish. At first, it was such a strong and surprising flavor, but it came to be the favorite of both of us.

(more…)

My visit to Wild Flour Bread last month changed not only the way that I think about bread, but also the way that I think about my schedule. It’s only open Fri-Mon. If I plan on being in LA for two weekends in one month, my first thought is “That’s two weekends I can’t go to Wild Flour Bread.” (Though my next thought, which cheers me up some, is “That’s two weekends I can go to The City Bakery.“) I also think about every Friday and Monday coming up, and whether I can get there to try its pizza, which is served only on those days. I haven’t managed it so far. (6/5/06 Edit: I finally did manage it, but it turns out that they no longer make pizzas)
Anyway, with a lot of excitement and a slight fear that it might not live up to our first visit, Chad and I drove an hour and fifteen minutes on Sunday solely to eat Wild Flour Bread.

We were not let down. We were just as amazed by the bread as we were during our first visit.

The newest revelation that we had, which I think even trumps their sticky bun, was the Egyptian.

Its simple description of “pear, fig, ginger, walnuts” doesn’t prepare you for the fact that it’s an orange-tinged cousin of the sticky bun. Gooey, full of flavor, still warm, chock full of sliced pear and candied ginger and dried figs and whole wheat, about the size of a hardcover book, it was delicious. A thick kind of orange-colored syrup or jam also swirled through some of the pastry, much like the cinnamon swirl in a sticky bun, but this had the added effect of caramelizing into a chewiness on the edges, which was as prized as anything I can think of.

And sure, it was sweet, but it’s not as sweet as its appearance or ingredients would suggest. It’s just sweet enough. I think that the whole wheat helps to mitigate the sweetness of the sugar from the fruits. It looks like this inside.

We also tried the ladder-shaped Goat Flat, full of goat cheese, herbs, and onion. Perfectly flavored, with a satisfying crisp crust and a chewy crumb.

Oddly enough, the cheese inside was orange… I should have asked just what kind of goat cheese they use.

Their orange and white chocolate scone was also great (I wish I had also tried their almond currant scone with rosewater icing). There were a lot of relatively large pieces of chopped orange peel, the orange flavor was mellow enough so that the white chocolate fit in well to complete the flavor of the scone.

It looks like this inside. It had a light texture, and was just buttery enough.

I think that their fougasse changes rather frequently, so this time it was a shitaake mushroom, cheddar, jack cheese, and onion. We took a loaf home (um, plus another goat flat).

The shitaake mushroom imbued a flavor that approached bacon, and the chunks of cheese and mushroom were satisfying in the dough. It was yet another amazing loaf from Wild Flour.

And so begins my scheming to schedule my next visit there…

Edit (2/28/07): This restaurant has closed down. 

Edit (12/14/07): Reports indicate that this restaurant may have re-opened, but has changed.

Some people think of going out to eat as something of a theatrical experience. Food-centric as I am, I’ve never really thought that way until we went to Foothill Cafe last night. Never before in a restaurant have I been so in suspense for what would happen next. It was a bizarre night.

The suspense started before we arrived. I’d read that Chef Jerry Shaffer had cooked at the upscale Masa in the 1980’s, and had left it to open this tiny BBQ-focused restaurant in a grey strip mall on the edge of Napa’s Carneros district. Online writers claimed that locals love his American cooking, which rivals any restaurant in the valley; the SF Chronicle has also listed it in the top 100 Bay Area restaurants in previous years.

So, prepared for quirkiness of some sort, we drove to this strip mall in a remote district of Napa.

We walked into the cozy, vaguely-southwestern decorated restaurant, and immediately found ourselves amidst a crowd of people waiting for tables in a small waiting area.

The restaurant seats perhaps 50 people, but there were a few open tables around. We get to the hostess lectern and find it unmanned. For about 15 minutes. No one else seemed concerned, and we weren’t starving…. So, we wait, and consider a menu that is laid on the lectern. We notice that employees are rushing around setting tables, so we understand. We overhear that a party of 24 with a reservation is waiting for a table, and that a party of 23 without a reservation is also waiting for a table. That would leave 3 seats for the rest of the already packed restaurant. The leaders of these two parties end up comparing notes, and the 23 party decides that leaving would be the wisest choice. She can’t find the hostess to let her request go, so the leader of the 24 volunteers to do it.

Eventually, two hostess-like people separately ask for my reservation info, and a little later, we’re seated. We’re given a menu that’s completely different from the menu that we’d been looking at, and set in to consider our options. There are about five main courses, such as their signature ribs, seared tuna, prawn diablo pasta, penne with chicken, and hanger steak; all btw $13-18. There are also pastas that come with winter vegetables and a form of potato. I appreciate the simplicity. Even though they’re known for their ribs, neither of us are in the mood, so we make our choices. And wait. And wait. We get glasses of water. We notice that a table next to us has received menus like ours as well as the menu that was on the lectern, which are the specials.

I wasn’t going to have wine, but decided that given the schedule so far, I’d be stone cold sober by the time we finished our meal. We’ve already finished our water glasses. They have a nice local wine selection, with glasses ranging btw $6-7, and two beers on tap: Sierra Nevada and Kona Brewing Co.

Our waitress arrives and recites some specials, but not all the ones I’d remembered from the menu on the lectern. She leaves us to further consider our options. We didn’t get a chance to order our wine.

Finally, she returns, and we put in our orders (ordering a diff’t wine than we’d wanted b/c they were out of it). We then set in to watch developments unfold at the table next to us. They are asked to literally move their table a couple feet to the right in order to accommodate the table for 24-person party. They do. And they get their appetizers… And another request to move their table, this time very close up against ours. We exchange greetings, and laughs, and confused looks. A bit later, they are once again asked to move their table…. back to where it was in the first place.

The service mostly stabilized from here on out, except for the time we had 4 requests for water going (which were solicited by the wait staff) and no water forthcoming. We got it eventually. The courses came in reasonable amounts of time, and the waitresses were quite friendly.

So, finally, the food.

We shared an appetizer of crispy rock shrimp w/ ancho chili aioli with jicama, red peppers, avocado, mango, papaya, lime, and chile oil. The shrimp was delicious, with a breading that was crisp enough enough to be satisfying but with a nice give nonetheless and that encased sweet and tender shrimp. The simple dressing made the flavors of the jicama, avocado, and red peppers pop just perfectly with the shrimp and aioli. Though it looked appetizing, the papaya tasted of rotten milk (or something putrid), but it could easily be avoided. I don’t believe I encountered any mango, at all.

I had a hanger steak with green peppercorn sauce, blue cheese potato gratin, and winter vegetables. The steak arrived sloshed all over the place; once on the table, Chad asked if I’d already started eating it somehow. The sauce was flavorful and satisfying, but the steak was too chewy, except for the middle. I think Hanger steak is supposed to be this way to an extent, but not to this extent. The veggies were well cooked, but the rich and creamy blue cheese gratin was the highlight of the plate. And aren’t they brave plates?

Chad had the grilled Colorado Lamb Loin, which was served like mini-t-bones. One of his loins was juicy and succulent and made one forget about everything else in the world. The other one was charred and tough. Chad commented that inconsistency is good sometimes, like with his garlic mashed potatoes, which were sometimes smooth and sometimes lumpy. True, b/c either kind of mashed potatoes can be good… but too bad overcooked lamb always sucks.

Out of the three dessert selections, we chose two.

The pear and apple crisp with vanilla ice cream was average. The fruit slices were evenly cooked through in a nice sort of caramel sauce. The brown sugar and nut topping was a little too sandy for me, but had a pleasant flavor. The ice cream was a good anchor; rich and smooth, but not too creamy.

I’m still trying to figure out the cognac and vanilla creme brulee. The custard part was more like a dense starchy pudding and the brulee part was so thin that the sugar was burnt rather than caramelized. Halfway through it, Chad squinted his eyes and declared that the cognac flavor had finally come through. Subtly.

I must say that I appreciated the plating throughout. The plates were logically filled, without arbitrary frills and squiggles. Functional, but still interesting because they showed the qualities of the food itself.

So, Foothill Cafe was okay. It had some shining moments (like the shrimp and perfectly-cooked loin) — enough for me to go back if someone else wanted to go there — and some detractions — enough for me not to suggest to go there.

And one convenient plus: the laundromat next door was invaluable in re-stocking my quarter supply for laundry.