It's so wonderful to be home. My dogs missed me, my man missed me, my bills missed me. Two out of three ain't bad, no? While a complete story is coming up shortly, chock full of information and photos about the gorgeous island of Eleuthera, can I interest you in a few small morsels of information that I learned about myself? Sharing is caring, y'all.
Thanks to my friend Alex Robertson-Textor for a few of the pictures where I am clearly making a fool of myself. Alex, you rock!
Armed with a few hours of sleep and a bag filled with way too much camera gear I landed this morning in the Bahamas. I'll be spending the next few days with my friend Alex as we run around putting words and images together for a project. Wish me luck, he's a brilliant travel writer and makes me feel like my vocabulary only consists of "yay!" and "like" and "omg for reals!!"
OMG, like, it does. Ouch.
Because things have been so crazy lately (which explains the lack of posts) I've had a hard time unplugging my brain and just chilling. It always seems there's something to be done and I've had to work hard at not working hard. Running into locals and sharing freshly cracked coconuts or a beer or two has certainly helped. But today I discovered my new favorite snack that has made all time stand still.
Conch Fritters.
Again. Conch Fritters.
I'm simply too exhausted to describe the pillowy, fried golden goodness of this shellfish fritter that's served with a habanero sauce, or mayo with lime, or a combination of the two. I mean, my brain is gone and I have no idea what it was but I know that as soon as I finish this post I'm walking back along the beach and helping myself to another serving with an icy cold beer before my big day of shooting commences tomorrow.
Perhaps I'll stick some extras in my camera bag.
Armed with a pocketful of outdated 120 film and a Mamiya 645 I hit the streets of my sleepy beach town this past Saturday morning to re-familiarize myself with film. Film! I have an assignment next month––my first international collaboration––and since I'm headed somewhere beachy and warm I decided to use Long Beach as a stand-in. Hey, my street doubles for the Miami neighborhood on the TV show "Dexter", it might be a decent stand-in of the Caribbean for me.
Ok, it wasn't really. Not at all. But it was worth a shot.
As I walked around the beach, watching the joggers, bikers and volleyball games in action, it made me realize that while I'm filled with the Christmas spirit and visions of sugar plum fairies dance in my head, it can be a bit difficult to truly embrace the season when it's sunny and warm with cool ocean breezes caressing your skin. But no matter where I am and where I celebrate, I'm blessed and happy to be alive and thankful for a season that truly brings people together.
Sometimes there's really not much more you can ask for.
Would you like to see me whimper and wince? Then ask me to join you on official Gourmet Magazine business in July but instruct me to keep it under wraps until the September issue hits the stands. Luckily I'm actually very good with discretion and secrets. But it gets hard when you discover something in the process that you instantly fall in love with and can't disclose it. Until now, that is.
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Blessed by a temporary afternoon reprieve from the hot humid weather, I
spent a Saturday afternoon running around with my friend Marisa while
in New York City last month. As Chief Research Editor for Gourmet
Magazine she asked if I'd join her as she fact-checked a few locations
for an upcoming story. Being the professional editor that she is I was
only allowed to know we were checking addresses, tasting some food and
nothing more. However, after stopping by a few taco trucks a developing
sense of the subject matter became quite obvious. And now that the
September issue is out and I've read Robb Walsh's feature on taco
trucks and a story on Dominican food from Junot Diaz I know exactly
what we were doing.
While I've only recently been introduced to Dominican food, tacos are in my
DNA. Combine one of my favorite foods with convenience and portability
and you've created a perfect experience. That's why I love taco trucks;
it's a culinary experience set in an environment that strips away any
sense of pretense or romance. Focus on the tacos and the sights and
sounds of everyday life become the setting. It's an act I appreciate
yet one I clearly don't take advantage of enough. It seems that here in
Los Angeles we're always in our cars, zipping from point A to point B.
I simply must break this sad pattern and hit those trucks! Thank you
Mr. Walsh, as always.
But back to New York. We stopped at Tacos Express at 145th and Broadway
for tacos al pastor, washed down by a tepid horchata as we sat on steps
and shared some decent Mexican food. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a
big boy and can easily pound down a few tacos; it took great strength
to sample and not gorge myself that afternoon.
After checking intersections of a few places in Washington Heights
(taco trucks don't have street addresses but apparently some have web
sites!) we made our way to the Bronx. The last on the list to check was
a Chimichurri truck on the corner of Msgr Francis J Kett and W 204th
Street. A Chimichurri Truck? Truck? It was a phrase that instantly
aroused and confused me. Having spent time in Argentina I thought I
knew chimichurri, the flavorful mixture of olive oil, garlic and herbs
that is a condiment for grilled meats. What I was about to discover was
something just as brilliant and delicious, something that left me
begging for more.
The Dominican Chimichurri.
We all have those food moments, don't we? Those ever-important moments
of culinary discovery. Ok, perhaps you're a chef or super well-traveled
and know all there is to know, but this boy is still finding so many
things out there that continually amaze me. And when we make those
discoveries do we curse the gods for keeping the food in question away
for so long and leaving our encounter to chance? Or do we praise them
for finally putting us together? I'm still trying to figure that out–
I'll get back to you on that one.
So, that Chimichurri. Latin, yes, but this Dominican delight has
nothing to do with its Argentine counterpart other than sharing a name.
In the simplest of terms chimichurri is a Dominican hamburger. But a
burger of the highest, messiest order and one that left me swooning and
pining and all those other hyperbolic terms we love to use. Imagine a
soft bun, a patty, grilled tomatoes and onions, cabbage (sometimes
quickly pickled) and dollops of mayonnaise and ketchup. It's messy,
greasy, and one of the tastiest things to pass my lips in such a long
time.
The next day, while having a Sunday afternoon beer in the East Village
with my sister, brother-in-law and friend Carolina, I let it slip that
I discovered a Chimichurri.
"What were you doing in my neighbrhood?" Carolina asked. I told her I
was under a self-imposed order of secrecy about the details but that I
could reveal my new obsession with this messy burger.
"Ah! You've discovered the pleasures of Chimis!" announced Carolina,
and with that she graciously took me under her wing and gave me some
background about my new favorite snack. Born in New York and raised in the Dominican Republic before returning to NYC, I met Caro through my friend Lito in San
Francisco. As we drank Hefeweizen and I asked a million questions, I
realized this was all too good to be true. I've discovered one of the
world's best foods and I have my own personal culinary and cultural
attaché? Pinch me!
Carolina informed me that chimichurri trucks are common in Santo
Domingo and easily found all along El Melecon, the avenue that runs
along the ocean. She also tells me that they are easy to find in New
York, particularly in the South Bronx and Washington Heights, but we
both lamented that I may not have much luck back in Los Angeles. I told
her that I'd have to find a recipe and make it at home because this
chimi business was too good to only live in a memory. That's when Caro
told me that she doesn't make them at home. But then again why would
you when they're so easy to find?
"For me, part of the charm of chimis is getting one in the street at 3
am. It's perfect post-prandial food – greasy, tasty and a challenge to
your motor skills (to avoid the inevitable drips on your clothes)," she
said.
Dripping messy shirts? Greasy? 3 am? It's like she was seducing me with her words!
I've since learned to create a pretty close stand-in of the Chimichurri
burger with a few alterations. And while it's not the same as standing
on the street at 1am or sharing one with my friend Marisa on a train
platform in Washington Heights and sipping on a hyper-sweetened fruit
drink, it does come pretty damn close. And for that I'm thankful.
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Chimichurri: A Dominican Hamburger
adapted from Tía Clara's site at Cocina Dominicana with gracious advice from Carolina!
It was a bit of a hunt to find recipes for this online in English,
but it's certainly not difficult to make. Messy is key, and blending
the sauce ahead of time makes for easy assembly. This month's Gourmet
Magazine's recipe instructs a quick sauté of the cabbage but it will
make a huge tasty difference if you do a very quick pickle of the
cabbage in vinegar ahead of time. But it's not necessary.
Ingredients
4 hamburger buns
2 pounds of ground beef
1/2 teaspoon of garlic, crushed
1 large onion, sliced into rings
1 large onion, diced
1 bell pepper, diced
2 large tomatoes, sliced
2 cups shredded cabbage
1 tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons of oil
salt and pepper
oregano
ketchup
mayonnaise
Method
1. Mix meat, worcestershire sauce, garlic, onion cubes, bell pepper,
and add a pinch of salt, a pinch of oregano and a pinch of pepper.
Divide meat into four portions and form 4 patties. Brush a stove-top
grill with some of the oil and heat. Grill the patties, rotating until
they are well done.
2. Briefly grill tomatoes and onion rings. Turn down the heat at its minimun and briefly cook the cabbage. Reapply some oil to the grill and warm up the bread.
3. Assemble the hamburger and garnish with ketchup and mayonnaise.
While I'm enjoying a few days in New York, meeting so many talented people (YOU!) and getting to do and see all sorts of great things, I wanted to share why I love visiting NYC so darn much:
(I just realized you could actually end each one of these points with "try doing that in Los Angeles!" Not that I'm hating my own town or anything. Just making a point!)
Lately I've been feeling nothing but love from my home state. Many of you have taken the time to come out of the shadows and say hello through emails, and when you do that it not only tickles me pink but connects me to my home state in ways you may not know. And then Texas Monthly shows up in the mailbox, news of best friends relocating from San Francisco to Austin trickles down, certain people remind me what I love most about home and before you know it I'm homesick and pining for an evening of two-steppin', sitting on porches laughing about life and downing another margarita.
I even still wear boots on occasion, you know.
The delightful Lauren from Austin just wrote me to talk typefaces (seems we're both art directors as well as food lovers) and mentioned to me that Austin now has this wonderful publication and I wanted to say how much it excites me. I've been gone from Austin so long but still remember all the quirky merchants, shops, farms and growers and it's nice to see that they're all still going strong. I'm definitely be sending in my subscription to Edible Austin so I can keep in touch with the food scene, and of course I'll always rely on my friend Melissa who always has the funniest and poignant tales to tell about the Lone Star State. I miss you, girl!
Are you in New York City? Are you interested in a few hours of food
blogging talk, photography chit chat and some food styling tips with some really goofy
guy named Matt whose blog you just happen to reading this very second? Then stop by the Culinary Center at Whole Foods Market
Bowery where I'll be teaching "The Ins And Outs of Food Blogging" with the good folks at my alma mater on Sunday, July 15th.
I
must admit that I was flattered beyond belief when I was approached for
a class. It's Whole Foods Market, for pete's sake! And although it's my
first class with Whole Foods
Market, I'm no stranger to the natural foods juggernaut. I got my start
in the food business back in Austin with Whole Foods 17 years ago
(anybody remember Brodie Oaks?) and
even though it was a small natural foods grocer at that time with 5
stores and I've since moved on, I've never lost my deep connection to
the company as they've
expanded and gone global. I still consider them part of my family, so
when the offer came to teach a class I
didn't have to think twice.
You can register for my class here as well as discover all the other amazing classes they offer. I'm bummed I missed the cooking class series with the folks from Saveur Magazine! I can only imagine how cool that was.
I look forward to seeing you!
You know what I love? Kobe Beef Sliders with a giant glass of Tempranillo. And cheese. And clever cocktails. And high thread count sheets. And the desert. Those things can be found at the Parker in Palm Springs.
You know what I don't like? Neglecting my blog while I'm out of town checking on a location for a shoot and missing my 2nd Wedding Anniversary with the world's greatest redhead.
I'll be back in a few days!
From last year and the old site comes a blog entry about artichokes. Since it's artichoke season I wanted to repost it here in the new digs, and luckily the early deep freeze a few months didn't ruin everything. Wahooooo!
My first foray into a closer relationship with artichokes began as a work assignment. Drive to Lompoc, California, chat with a farmer, get some pictures and get back to Los Angeles without becoming a part of the daily human-and-metal gridlock. Coffee in hand, I raced up the 5, beating traffic and made it with a few minutes to spare.
Until that point, I categorized artichokes as one of those foods shrouded in history, enjoyed by Romans and Greeks but not necessarily an everyday part of my kitchen. Spiky, thorny, gorgeous yet inhospitable, my little mind was about to be opened to the joys of this thistle.
I spent the day with Steve Jordan. Steve is a man who knows his chokes. In fact, his level of knowledge is quite intimidating. Serious, polite and quiet, Steve is a forth generation California farmer who has been growing artichokes for over twenty years. California grows the majority of artichokes consumed in the United States, and they've been grown here since the 1800s when Italian immigrants brought them to the west. The coastal weather of areas like Lompoc and Castroville are perfect for artichokes, and here they thrive like crazy.
Steve maintains over 550 acres of green and purple artichokes, and when he's not tilling and toiling the land he spends time in Italy, the artichoke's country of origin, to meet with other artichoke farmers and share ideas and information. He's even a member of the global artichoke congress - who knew?
I always thought an artichoke was an artichoke was an artichoke. Boy, was I wrong. Steve actually spends many years nurturing, testing and growing various types of artichokes, many of them starting from European seedlings and spending time in his lab before making their way to the field. It's important to note that his artichokes are not genetically modified, thank goodness. If he discovers a variety he likes and believes can do well commercially then he plants it, although it takes anywhere from 2-7 years before it will end up on our tables. Over the years he's developed green and purple artichokes like the Campania, Fiesole and Lyon and he's always on the lookout for new, delicious varieties.
Then there's the taste. An artichoke fresh from the field is like a green gift from heaven, full of delicious, grassy flavor that is delicious by itself, even raw. Lightly steamed, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, drawn butter or a simple aioli and I could skip just about everything else and be a very happy man.
I'm happy to say that artichokes are now a part of my regular routine. Steamed, baked, stuffed, grilled or dipped, you basically can't go wrong with a hearty, fresh artichoke. I think those Romans were on to something indeed.
My favorite way to devour an artichoke is to steam it and eat it with aioli and butter. Cholesterol what? If you have a particularly spiney choke you can snip off the tips with kitchen shears and rinse it well. Make sure to remove the excess water as it can sog down the choke when you steam it. Steam for 30 to 40 minutes, depending on the size of the artichoke. Enjoy warm and please, make a mess. It's much more fun that way.
We’ll be heading back to California soon. It’s been an amazing trip, full of good food and lots of rest. I sheepishly regret that I didn’t post as often as I had planned, but once the sunny South American breeze hit my skin (and a few cocktails flew down the hatch), well, blogging was the farthest from my mind. Shame on me! However, we met amazing people who made our trip such an amazing experience and once I’m home I definitely plan on sharing more about Buenos Aires, Argentina.
I’ve compiled a quick list of things we really enjoyed, and if you are planning a trip to Buenos Aires you might want to check them out.
1. Home Hotel and the staff.
Even though I gushed about the hotel a few posts earlier, I could spend a few years going on and on about this place. Seriously folks, if you are heading to Buenos Aires you simply must book a room here. Or visit for tapas. Just go. I’ve never stayed somewhere that felt like a big giant hug. I miss the delightful staff already…not to mention those long afternoons by the pool. This place is off the charts when it comes to quality.
2. El Zanjón De Granados
This historical building, originally built by a weathy family, fell into disrepair after the yellow fever epidemic. It then became tenement housing above and filled with shopkeepers on the ground floor. It was purchased as an abandoned building in the 1980s for commercial development until the demolition process revealed an original foundation that was underneath current street level. The restoration process also revealed a series of underground tunnels where river water once flowed, along with large sisterns that gathered rainwater for drinking (the wealthy employed sea turtles as a purification process inside the wells). The 20-year restoration process was a collaboration between architects, historians, archeologists and various landowners. There are daily tours, and what I most enjoyed was seeing how superbly the various centuries were blended within one building. It was also great getting a slice of Buenos Aires’ history, and I had no idea that the river was only a few steps away from homes and buildings like the Casa Rosada before the city expanded.
3. Maté
You won’t see me running around town with a thermos of hot water underneath my arm quite yet, but I did learn to enjoy the national drink of Uruguay and Argentina quite a bit. The highly caffeinated bitter herb makes a tasty tea, and while I might argue it’s an acquired taste I must say it’s delicious nonetheless.
Is it only a matter of time before Starbucks starts offerings a Chai Mate Late Frappucino?
4. Medialunas
It’s not breakfast here without a few medialunas, the diminutive version of the flaky croissant. Paired with café con leche and you can’t help but have a great day. I think this may be one of the things I will miss the most once I’m back home.
5. La Cabrera
This gem in Palermo actually has two locations a block apart from each other. It’s pure parilla with a twist-- – try the Pato De Confit, a duck leg confit that’s been thrown on the grill until crisp and juicy.
6. The Smoking Ban
You might think it’s funny to know that Adam packed Febreeze so that we could get the dreaded cigarette smoke out of our clothing. But guess what? Buenos Aires recently enacted a smoking ban, very similar to the bans in many American cities. For a city as old as Buenos Aires it seemed impossible, but it’s truly wonderful to not feel like a human ashtray.
7. Beef.
Enough said.
8. Dulce De Leche. Anything.
I grew up eating Dulce De Leche in Texas (which we called Cajeta). It’s a natural by-product of farming – anywhere there’s beef you’ll find cheese and milk, and anywhere you’ll find milk you should find Dulce De Leche, the caramel sauce made from sugar and milk. It is rumored to have originated here in Argentina, which is something I actually believe based on the ubiquity of this dessert. Ice cream, crepes, as a topping on flan, in and on top of pastries, you name it – if it can be done they’ll add it. And do you hear me complaining? Hell no. Like my hubby says, it’s probably the finest thing one can get from a cow.
9. Provoleta
Take a disc of provolone, garnish with herbs and olive oil, and grill until melted. The result? A crisp, flavorful chewy crust of cheese with a gooey, savory interior. These things literally disappear in my presence.
10. Pacú
This South American cousin of the piranha is an herbivore that grows much larger than its toothy meat eating relatives. Popular in Brazil and parts of Argentina, and we were lucky enough to try it a few times here Buenos Aires at Jangada restaurant. With an earthy flavor and a tasty layer of fat underneath the skin, Pacú is grilled on the parilla which results in a crunchy, flavorful skin and tender, earthy meat. I now understand why it’s called “el lechón del rió”, or suckling pig of the river.
And now, my biggest trip disappointment: Bobo Hotel. I really wanted to like this small boutique hotel located here in Palermo. I really did. We ate dinner in the restaurant on our last visit to BA and wanted to experience a few nights’ stay, but I wish we hadn’t. In their defense I must say that the staff was cordial and very helpful, but as a guest I felt like an afterthought. I’ll tell you why.
The hotel decided to do some remodeling during our visit. Replacing drywall and installing a new ceiling isn’t exactly quiet, and our room was located directly above the construction. I hated to make a fuss about it, but honestly it was unbearable. The hotel attempted to accommodate us by speeding up the process, but I think it would have been better to either not book the room, move us to a higher floor, or close down for a few days. Instead, guests were inconvenienced and never got to experience the entire Bobo restaurant. During breakfast one morning we were informed that the gas had been temporarily shut off due to construction so pastries and yogurt were all we could get, which was fine – but what if I wanted something from the menu? Again, the needs of the hotel came first and not the guests. I think that’s a shame and can honestly say I won’t return.
Because this area is undergoing a rebirth, construction is everywhere. It’s inevitable. I only wish Bobo would have told us with plenty of warning that we’d be right on top of it. I would have packed a hard hat.
