Roasted Artichoke Hearts and Fingerling Potatoes with Oregano Pistou & Eliot Ness

Almost 10 years ago I made my very first trip out to the wilds of Redwood Valley, California to meet Sarah's family.  Our relationship was in its fledgling stages and I was determined to make a good - no great - first impression!  Two days in things were going well and I, buoyed by this success, volunteered to make dinner.  Steve, Sarah's Dad, has an incredible heirloom vegetable garden that I had been itching to cook from and so I proposed a meal centered around what we could abundantly harvest from it.  "Do you like artichokes? I have lots of beautiful artichokes!" Steve offered cheerfully.  Sure!  I loved artichokes.   The only problematic part was that I had zero clue as to what an artichoke plant looked like.  Yep, embarrassing as it may be, after nearly a decade spent cooking in professional kitchens, I had yet to encounter an artichoke in its natural habitat.  So is the fate of some young city chefs.  I certainly wasn't going to let Steve know that, though!  So, eager to impress and with vegetable clippers in hand, I marched out to the garden hell bent on returning with artichokes.

Mango Molé Braised Pork Ribs & Old Guardian Barley Wine

My sister in-law's mother, Petra, is a native Oaxacan and makes some of the most incredible molé I've ever had.  Rich and velvety and layered with flavors upon flavors, it's like the culinary equivalent of gold.  Every year she makes the trip from her home in Mexico to California to visit relatives and every year a brick of her prized molé makes the journey with her.  That's right, she actually carries the brick onto the plane and travels with it tucked protectively into her carry-on baggage.  Take note my friends because THAT is true dedication to one's culinary craft!

And every year Sarah and I beg and plead with my sister in-law to save just a sliver of that brick for our annual visit to California.  On the occasion a sliver is saved, we savor it with the respect it deserves, musing at its complex notes. Then, a couple years ago, I the got the offer most chefs would kill for (and the offer I'd been not so subtly hinting at from my first bite of that molé) ... A cooking lesson with Petra herself and the chance to learn the secrets of traditional molé making!  Score!

Roasted Beet, Citrus and Whipped Feta Salad and Lagunitas Little Sumpin' Sumpin'

As it sometimes happens, Sarah and I did a little stress eating this last week.  We were both under the looming shadow of stressful deadlines and working elbow-to-elbow within the confines of our loft which, typically plenty spacious, can end up feeling like pretty tight quarters when we're both feeling anxious.   To temper the mood, I fed us.  It's what I do in times of disharmony.  Cook, eat and cook some more.  It began with last Monday's brunch, continued with duck ravioli on Tuesday, lamb burgers on Wednesday, Thursday we sought comfort at Tete (which is awesome, by the way - if you haven't been, GO!) and Friday - inspired by Tete - I made seafood sausages (which are also awesome and will be highlighted in this blog at some point).  The weekend was a blur of work and almond butter sandwiches (plus the last scrapings of that Rhubarb Beer Jelly) so by the time Monday rolled around, we were both feeling a little guilty and craving a light cleansing meal.

Proscuitto, Ricotta, Fig and Watercress Beer Bread Tartine & Ovila Saison

Humans have been topping bread with all sorts of foods, both simple and extravagant, since the Middle Ages.  It seems most every culture has adopted some form of open faced sandwich.  Italy gave us crostini, Denmark the smørrebrød.  And the French - those clever French, who do everything "food" so well - gave us the ever perfected Tartine!

In the late 15th century, thick slabs of bread called "tranches" (or "trenches") were used as the vessel for serving food.  An edible plate of sorts.  Piled with meat, cheese or whatever the meal might be, the bread soaked in the juices and flavors of that meal, preserving its memory.  It was then enjoyed (or donated to the family hound or neighborhood beggar) as a delectable end to the meal.  Thus the tartine was born!   Boy, those French really do know how to eat well!

Fresh Ricotta Cheese: A Bonus Post

What do we know about ricotta cheese?  We know it originated in Sicily and has become something of a staple in many Italian dishes.  We know it's often made from cow's milk (in America, at least) and has a pleasant, mild flavor.  And we know that this gentle mildness makes it very versatile and a wonderful partner to a great variety of foods, sweet and savory alike.

What many might not know about ricotta, is that it's seriously easy to make!  With a little time, a few good ingredients and minimal effort, it's kind of a snap.  And worth learning how to make because once you've had homemade ricotta, the store bought variety is going to seem really sub par (and that's putting it kindly).

Kielbasa With Pickled Summer Vegetables & Penrose P-2 Belgian Pale

Last summer I bought myself a smoker.  An impulse buy that came after procuring a beautiful piece of pork belly (destined to become smokey bacon) and immediately feeling frustrated about not being able to smoke at home.  Enough was enough - I needed smoke!  I careened into the nearest Home Depot and bought a Brinkmann Sportsman Charcoal Smoker.   In all honesty, it's not the king of smokers (one day I WILL get a Big Green Egg) but for small, compact city living, it does the job.  If you have this model or something similar just be sure you monitor the temperature closely so as not to get too much direct heat.  200-215 degrees F is ideal.

Rueben Sandwich with Corned Beef Tongue & Dogma Ale

Years ago, I had one of my first, great bonding moments with my (then new) father-in-law, Steve, over a particularly mountainous and delicious plate of corned beef hash.   Sarah and I had just spent a week in the wilds of Northern California visiting her family and her folks took us out for a goodbye breakfast before we hopped our plane back to a Chicago.  "What is everyone having" Sarah asked casually as we perused the menu.  "Corned beef hash!" Steve and I proclaimed in anticipatory unison.   When the plates of hash arrived, heaped high and steaming, we grinned at each other, relishing our fine choice.   "You're going to eat ALL of that" Sarah somewhat judgmentally sniffed.  "YEP!", we exclaimed again in gleeful affirmation.  Consumed with our hash, I think he and I said about two words throughout the remainder of breakfast.   However, between bites we'd catch each other's eyes and giggle quietly at the expressions of silly satisfaction we both wore.  I'm sure the ladies thought we had lost our minds!  We ate every last morsel and felt appropriately indulgent.  I've shared a lot of meals with my in-laws since then and every time a menu with corned beef hash presents itself, Steve and I partake with as much vigor as we did over that first breakfast.

Leek and Gruyere Tart & Endless IPA

Behold the leek!  Tall, proud and full of delicate flavor.  Where the onion announces its presence with bravado, the leek need not.  So perfect in its subtly, when the leek makes its entrance, all taste buds stand in rapt attention.  And while I hold all onions in fairly high regard, the leek has a special place in my kitchen.

Pleasantly mild and sweeter than other onions, the leek is remarkably versatile and, in American kitchens, definitely underutilized.  Leeks are a perfect complement to most herbs, an inspired addition to soups and eggs and are absolutely, positively sumptuous when sautéed in butter or combined with anything cream based.  This somewhat indulgent tart offers both - a butter sauté and a generous helping of creamy cows milk Gruyere.  Nestled in an equally buttery tart shell, it seems this recipe might skirt the edge of being a little too rich but remarkably it doesn't.  Somehow amidst all that dairy goodness, there's balance.  That's the beauty of leeks!

Sauerkraut: A Bonus Post

As a wedding gift we received a beautiful handmade, sauerkraut pot from Sarah's Uncle Doug, a gifted potter from Navarro, CA. It's sturdy  - just like any good crock should be - but its also rather visually striking.  It slightly reminds us of a treasure you might find hidden in an ancient tomb or archeological site.  Spattered with the delicate reminisce of the salt kiln and etched with carvings of Doug's design, it's a prized possession for sure!

Ajo Blanco (White Gazpacho) & Sorachi Ace

With a sticky, humid 86 degrees, Summer officially marched into Chicago this weekend.
Though, I'm sure these temperatures will feel mild as the Summer progresses, today it felt
HOT!  And in the restaurant's kitchen, with its roaring ovens and sizzling grills, it felt even
HOTTER.  I dragged home, viscous and fuzzy headed and craving something cool and
refreshing.  A good beer, obviously ... and Gazpacho!