Head to Tail Yakitori at Kokekokko

Oh the poor maligned chicken in my life. The bird has been beaten down to bastard status in my culinary oeuvre over the past decade. It’s partly because I am just so freaked out by the steroids and slaughterhouse conditions of so much of the mainstream meat manufacturing machine but it’s also because I hardly step a toe into a regular old grocery store anymore to pick up a package of breasts or thighs, organic or not. I tend to eat meat that is grown wherever I live, or prepared organically, or offered on ice blocks from the sea at my weekly farmer’s market, or served exotically in some foodie joint, and chicken tends to be the farthest down on this chain of late. 

That is until I encountered my first Yakitori experience this past Saturday night. Yakitori, or “grilled chicken”, is the reason Kokekokko in the middle of Los Angeles’ Little Tokyo exists. A restaurant centered on the bird, that the owners supposedly raise themselves, where every single part of the chicken is offered up for food in the most bare bones, simply salted and peppered, skewer-grilled style. I was happy to try it out because I hadn’t had chicken that bare minimum and blessed in years. 

An impromptu visit this past weekend at nine o’clock on a Saturday night found the place relatively packed but we were lucky to score two stool seats at the bar encountered by a heaping glass of Otokoyama sake and jazz piping in over the audio system in the rustic wooden room. It was poured generously until overflowing into a pool on the plate it sat within.

I loved watching the three guys grilling up the chicken in front of us over smoking coals while taking breaks to cheers each other with glasses of beer bought by joyous regular patrons. The place has a reputation of serving its loyals on black plates with passion while treating the newbie’s with skepticism in a kind of hierarchy where you have to earn your royal treatment by becoming a familiar fan. But we were treated well, maybe because my dinner companion has eaten there before, or maybe because we adventurously ordered one of everything from the menu, including the ugly bits. Prices are good, only around $2.50 for a skewer but you have to order at least five things per person to qualify for eating there.

We ordered skewers of chicken wrapped okra, zucchini, wing, thigh, gizzard, gizzard skin, heart, liver, quail egg, and meatball. A small bowl of ground chicken slaw was placed before us alongside two tiny clay pots of spices. One held shichimi togarashi, or “seven flavor chili pepper.” The other had a green powdery mix of what I think was green onions mixed with some other savory spice. Also, a dab of yellow karashi, or Japanese mustard, was swathed upon our plates.

My favorite skewer was the liver, served without adornment so that the plump, dense, smokiness of the meat shone through. Perfect on its own without any of the dips needed.

A surprising treat was the gizzards, not at all too crunchy or gristly, as I would have imagined, but flavorful little nuggets to chew on between the other stuff. All the chicken parts skewers were great and flavorful and it was fun deciding what spice to put on each.

I will stick with the chicken parts on more occasions as the veggies were just basic bits cooked right but not too lavish. The quail eggs were good cooked, maybe with a little more of a hardened rind of skin then regular eggs, but I will continue to prefer my quail eggs shot raw at the end of sushi, where they shine in their sensual liquid best.

I have never had chicken hearts but tried them and ended up really liking them. A little more jelly-like than the livers, and smaller, but with a nice inner density that alludes to the livers, they were almost sweet little cardinal gems to pop in the mouth, again with no condiment decorum. 

My dining companion who has a cantankerous funny bone waited until the end of the chicken parade to announce that the quarters could double as a salmonella flowering bed, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to go back. Or stop us from continuing on to order a skewer of crunchy chicken tail when prompted by a neighborly diner who could tell we were equally adventurous. I think of Anthony Bourdain squatting in Alaska over a whale freshly butchered with a family of ten bloody mouthed blubber eating Aleutians and feel proud that I can carry on in the same tradition in my own backyard restaurant full of raw chicken parts cooked and served up literally in front of my face. 

At the end of the meal, we were asked if we wanted dessert. Dessert consisted of a small white bowl of steamed sticky rice topped with a pool of mellow, brown curry. It was a nice little sweet moment at the end of a bare bones meat meal.

Mouth Gluttony at Osteria Mozza

Dining out is most fun between fellow foodies, when you not only pick a place you've heard of and have always wanted to go, but you also get to sit and strategize the menu with another person who's just as adventurous with the palate as you are and willing to swap and share, doubling the culinary experimentation. This time it started with my favorite negroni, perfectly bitter and up, at the Nancy Silverton/Mario Batali gourmet Italian collaboration Osteria Mozza in Los Angeles.

My dinner mate and I came to the table with decidedly different taste buds. Me, of the bitter and acidic variety, and he, of the fatty and sweet persuasion. This made for an interesting pairing of all courses.

 

First, we were compelled to order a starter from the infamous mozzarella bar. He chose the burricotta with radicchio, spiced walnuts, honey and fried rosemary.

I chose the burrata with bacon, carmelized shallots and marinated escarole. Both plates arrived with two heaping toasted baguette slices topped with a generous dollop of creamy cheese, slathered in the middle with a golden pool of olive oil and then generous amounts of the other toppings. Both were melt in your mouth luscious yet we both agreed that the bacon option was the best. The crisp and meaty slices mixed with the bitter escarole and the vinegar taste of the dressing combined with the pile of cheese in a way that I can only describe as sinful. Tangy perfection on a sopping, chewy bread bed. The portions were surprisingly enormous and we agreed that one was all that was really needed per order but that didn't stop us from finishing both plates - how can you let mozzarella that divine go to waste?

 

The entire incentive for me to go to this restaurant in the first place had been spurred by reviews on one particular dish in the Primi course - the Squid Ink Chitarra Freddi and it lived up to the hype. A magnificent cold dish of squid ink pasta with flakes of Dungeness crab, moist mini-filets of sea urchin and a kick of jalapeno piled in a refreshing briny sauce. Slurped up as if slurping directly from some deep jeweled pocket of the sea. I told my dinner mate that I would no doubt wake up craving this dish oftentimes in the future. 

He chose a Orecchiette with sausage and Swiss chard for his Primi and it was a lovely shallow bowl of pasta, perfectly cooked and filled with meaty nuggets of smoky ground sausage and a slightly spicy, musky aftertaste. We had many exchanges of dish in this course with shared wines to alternate between the darkness of the sausage and the lightness of the juice of the sea: a sparkly and enlivened Offida Pecorino white and the La Mozza "Aragone" sangiovese blend.  

For our Secondi, he chose the guinea hen crostone with liver pancetta sauce. A small piece of meat beneath the super smoky sauce was a bit indiscernable but flavorful nonetheless. Which hardly mattered because by this bursting point in our guts we were focused on finishing my dish. 

 I opted for the decadently exotic sweetbreads picatta with braised artichokes, greens and whole capers. A bite of caper bursting with juice alongside the other tangy and tart greens on top of the subtly cooked sweetbread bits crusted excellently and charred was a match made exactly for my mouth. I think this is my favorite sweetbread version tasted thus far. 

As if that weren't enough, we ordered the warm chocolate cake with a shared glass of Madeira "New Orleans" to seal the exquisite meal. A watery nub of ice cream ignored in lieu of the belly-aching hot and moist cake with a swish of the fragrant, bruised plum-reminiscent drink was in order to top off the night at this world class joint.

Chia Craze

My friends have all been telling me over the past few weeks that my hair looks thicker and my skin is glowing. I owe it all to chia, my latest object of obsession.

It all started with this:

I stumbled upon One Life Natural Foods store in Santa Monica about a month ago. Aside from being a virtual smorgasbord of organic and health foods, they have a deli in the back that serves up delicious items. A visit to the dairy case had me intrigued by this chocolate looking pudding with cacao nibs and strawberries on top. It was pricey, about $7 for a tiny container, but I was intrigued so I bought it. When I got home and took a bite I was in absolute bliss. It tasted exactly like a refreshing chocolate milkshake but thirty times better. I had this bizarre feeling that my whole body had suddenly awaken and as if I had been dipped in a healing bath of cleansing, ice cold water. A big fan of the mind-altering experience, I immediately went online to discover what the ingredients were in this amazing thing and found out it was highly saturated with superfoods.

I had heard of superfoods but didn't really know much about them. Apparently there is a list of things that are supposed to have the most vitamin and nutrient rich consistencies of any food you could ever eat. The list contains things like chia seeds, gogi berries, coconut, aloe vera juice, hempseed, blue green algae, bee pollen, kelp and acai - many of which were in this pudding. One bite had totally satisfied my cravings and made me feel full and I realized if all I needed were a bite a day to feel this way, I could totally justify the $7 price tag per miniscule portion.

I have been buying this now on a weekly basis and am a firm believer in the superfood concept thanks to the compliments of my friends over the last few weeks.

Another gem that came from this whole discovery has been my new addiction to chia seeds. Yes, these are the same chia seeds that made that weird pottery thing in your grandmother's windowsill grow like a small fuzzy topiary with that irritating television commercial of our youth where "Ch ch ch chia" would stick in the brain for days afterwards. I learned that putting chia seeds into your diet can greatly improve your health because the tiny black seeds grow to five times their size when absorbed in any liquid and the hair on them puffs up in this strange kind of gel that acts like a colon cleanser as it moves throughout your body. I decided to try and get a teaspoon worth of these little buggers through my system daily for great digestive health.

My favorite recipe for chia has become my morning breakfast ritual. You can buy chia in bulk at Whole Foods or the like and a ten dollar bag lasts about a month.

I take any flavor of my favorite organic yogurt, vanilla being my choice of late, and mix the teaspoon of chia seeds right into the bowl. Because the seeds grow bigger in the liquid, they turn into the taste and consistency of tapioca pearls once set in.

Then I slice up bananas, or any fruit that is fresh and ripe, into the mix. It is super yummy and super healthy and I swear it gives me a boost that gets me through a morning full of work.

And I swear, my hair is growing faster. Superfoods are super.

Hog Island Oyster Odyssey

Photographs by Robert Birnbach

“People come to this area with a specific mission if they don’t live here,” says my driver as we twist and turn up the damp coast of Marin County in Northern California. “They are either here to cycle these amazing green hills, drop in to a secret ex-hippie’s musical performance like the one Van Morrison threw in 2006 at Rancho Nicasio, or they come for the oysters. It’s mostly the oysters.”

Our mission? A car full of oyster freaks on the hunt for fresh kumamotos accompanied by acclaimed 30-year old Chef Aaron Kiefer, who promises to deliver us an on-the-spot, gonzo-style meal created from whatever ingredients we can find along the way, reflecting the region’s signature foods.

The region we are headed towards is Tomales Bay at the tip of the Point Reyes Seashore about an hour North of San Francisco—the high energy city where we’ve been engaged in long days of cookbook photography for classical creations and sophisticated meals that have left us longing for something more grassroots and simple, a true da-da inspired meal in an uncomplicated setting. 

The entire area is home to oyster farms where you can stop along the way and enjoy whatever oyster experience you crave from barbecued, down home to-go style to fancy, sit down restaurant and Rockefeller style. Our destination is Hog Island, where we hear you can picnic by the bay, hand shuck your own pleasures and eat them raw or cooked on your own private grill. 

Our first stop is at Cowgirl Creamery in a converted barn in Point Reyes Station, a small town among the rolling hills dotted with cows, sheep and goat, where we sample some of their signature, artisanal aged cheeses. Devil’s Gulch, crafted from rich Jersey cow milk, is soft and creamy, within a rind dusted with the dried rust-colored flakes from a red pepper field nearby. Mt. Tam, a few notches firmer than brie, melts on the tongue—an organic milk triple cream. Red Hawk, with its sunset colored rind tinted from a brine wash, delivers a full-bodied flavor; and the butter colored Wagon Wheel, the company’s “everyday” cheese, provides a juxtaposition of toothy bite with mild sweetness. Aaron chooses two of the Cowgirl cheeses along with two artisanal cheeses—an Italian Roccolo and Spanish Patacabra—which are bland enough to go well as a starter with the meal he has planned in his head.

“This is how everyone should eat,” says Aaron, adding a long, slim baguette to our loot for the day. “Whatever’s fresh and whatever’s available.” Our visit to the local grocery store yields multiple herb bundles and fennel.

We arrive at Hog Island Oyster Company where we have reserved a table and grill. It’s a cold, grey day with streaks of sun threatening to emerge from a dense strata of clouds—perfect for bundled jackets, rich foods and the smoke streams dotting the lawn, emanating from charcoal and communal outdoor breathing. All around us, groups of people are hovered together over sizzling meats and various types of oyster condiments. The sounds of wine corks popping, laughter, and the occasional joyous child’s shriek consistently puncture the air.

We learn that Hog Island co-owner John Finger is a Marine biologist whose commitment to creating oysters that retain the flavors and nuances of the bay from which they are produced also entails a passion for preserving the water’s cleanliness and environmental safety.

Chef Aaron, a man of few words with a no-nonsense cooking mien, gets right to work. At the outdoor oyster bar, a long basin filled with four varieties upon twinkling, diamond sharp piles of ice, he orders up several dozen oysters and netting full of clams. Back at the table, he fires up the grill.

Mindy Reed, owner of Zin American Bistro in Palm Springs, California, uncorks the white wines for our cheese plate, chosen for their ability to maintain a neutral palate as canvas for the strong and creamy cheeses, mini gherkins, garlic stuffed mushrooms, and dried figs that provide a hearty appetizer to the oysters that Chef Aaron will prepare simply and swiftly in conjunction with the stark environment, salty bay scents, and crisp winds off the dark waters. Aaron begins to hand shuck the small kumamotos, lining them up on a strip of wet wood accompanied by a quickly mixed mignonette of red wine vinegar, diced shallots and Meyer lemon juice. The small nuggets of meat are perfectly sweet and creamy, spiked with fresh, watery brine.

Once smoking hot, Aaron slaps on four strips of applewood smoked bacon to the grill next to a cobalt blue colander that holds two dozen clams, orange slices, and large broken fennel chunks. He douses white wine atop the pile every few minutes to create a steamer, clouds of fragrance wafting into the ethers. The bacon comes off and is replaced by the large variety, thin and watery oysters, which sit on the grill like little canoes, only long enough to receive a sprinkle of chopped bacon, shaved fennel and chive, a dash of vinegar and the ultimate exclamation point of a fresh, cracked quail egg. Leaving no time for the egg or oyster to overcook, the shells are quickly handed out to guests for the pleasure of one long slurp.

Next up are the clams, spiked with the fragrance of wine and with a subtle peppery zing, hand picked from the bowl, and devoured readily by the group.

A moment’s reflection follows the swift meal as we digest amongst the natural environs. Beyond the picnic area, egrets and herons walk like old men, their angular joints tip-toeing across the rocky shoals, respecting our distance as we communally watch each other, mutually sated on the fruits of the sea. Their screeches remain in our ears on the road back to the City, reminding us to visit again soon, the place where the oyster experience comes authentic and alive with fresh air. 

Hog Island Oysters

Producing 3 millions Kumamoto, Atlantic and Pacific oysters and Manila clams annually.

102 miles north of Pt. Reyes Station
20215 Coast Hwy One

Marshall, Ca. 94940

415-663-9218

Cowgirl Creamery
80 Fourth Street
Point Reyes Station, CA 94956
Phone (415) 663-9335
Fax (415) 663-5418
Wednesday through Sunday, 10am - 6pm
Friday morning tours at 11:30am and 3:00pm on select summer days.

RECIPES

Oysters With Quail Egg

1 dozen Hog Island Oysters, Opened and Muscle Cut
4 oz. applewood smoked bacon, grilled and chopped

1 dozen quail eggs

½ cup raw fennel

1 tablespoon sliced chives

Lemon

Olive oil

Salt

Pepper
Sprinkle all ingredients on top of the fresh-shucked oyster halves before the final step of cracking a quail egg on top. Oysters can be made cold or thrown on grill for few minutes for slight warmth but do not cook. Serve immediately.

Steamed Clams
2 dozen Hog Island manila clams, raw

1 whole fennel, broken into chunks

1 whole shallot, sliced

6 cups white wine

1 head garlic, smashed

4 Tbs. butter, cubed

Place all ingredients except for the wine and butter, into a porous container (like a colander) directly onto a hot grill. During the cooking process, drizzle with wine to create steam. As clams begin to open, toss in bowl with remaining wine and butter. Serve immediately!

CHEESE PLATE

Roccolo Cheese slices

Patacabra Cheese, slices

Devil’s Gulch Cheese, wedges

Inverness Cheese, wedges

Dried figs

Garlic Stuffed Mushrooms

Gherkins

Grapes

WINE LIST

Courtesy of Mindy Reed, Owner of Zin American Bistro, Palm Springs, CA

Vouvray Domaine Pichot
France 2008

Argiolas Costamolino
Vermentino di Sardegna 2008

Naiades

Rueda, Spain 2006

Burgans Albarino

Rias Baixas, Spain 2008

Makeshift Chinese at Mao's Kitchen

When it comes to Chinese food there is stellar cuisine and really bad, greasy cuisine and then a huge assortment of in between. The truth is, when you're hungry and hankering for some orange chicken or curry or any of the fare's traditional standby dishes, it's hard to go wrong with anything in the in between.

 So I was thrilled to discover the restaurant Mao's Kitchen in my neighborhood recently. The first time I went there I was with a family of four picky eaters with an assortment of dietary restrictions and we managed to satisfy everyone for $60 with a table full of dishes that everyone shared. The restaurant looks more like a down home catfish joint with its picnic table-esque seating and bare bones decor and the service is super slow, perhaps because it's staffed with surfers and budding actresses who spend extra time cleaning the stainless steel machines so that they can look at their lipstick applications in the reflections. But this also means that they tolerate the loud kids and buzzed youngsters that frequent the place so if you're not in a hurry and down with the mentality of live and let live, it's quite all right. Also, try not to ask for more than one take out container, they must be counting their pennies when it comes to things like cardboard cartons, because they look at you a little funny if you have the nerve to try and take home more than a small portion of your leftovers.

The peasant's onion pancake was a disappointment. I was expecting something light, subtle and fluffy but received a big piece of chewy, flavorless dough that resembled more of a glutinous pizza base.

A nice surprise was the Shao Mountain Lamb entree that contained slices of meat, leek and jalapenos stir fried with preserved black beans and secret sauce.

The coconut curry impressed me. I love curry but hardly find any I like because some places make it too gloppy sauced and overly sweet, while others make it too bland. This one had huge pieces of vegetables and chicken and was the perfect consistency of slightly creamy and spiced just right.

I found myself choosing the place again when a friend came to town and we wanted to walk somewhere close by. Because Mao's doesn't have a liquor license, we stepped into a wine store for a bottle of mid range syrah which the waitress joyfully popped for us for a small corkage fee. That night we chose to sit outside at a small, wooden table for two and watched as all the art walk drunken hipsters oohed and aahed over our table of food. I found myself ordering the curry again that evening, and then again on another evening when my daughter and her friend came to town late one Friday looking to find a joint open into the wee hours that would satisfy their 20-year-old girl desires to be in a place still bustling with young energy. It fit the bill.

Day after Mao's curry is excellent with the over-sized carrot slices and generous chunks of chicken having had an overnight chance to steep in more flavor. A great microwaved breakfast dish that I will go back for again and again when I am not in the mood to dress up or get in the car for a good cheap and easy meal.

Over Urth

I have been really excited to eat lunch at Urth Caffe in Santa Monica since becoming a Venice Beach resident. It's the place my friend Mark and I would go on all of my visits to see him over the past few years and when I was planning on moving here I relished the idea that I could pop into the cafe at whim and order up one of their urth-ly delights, because the food can be really good. Great matcha drinks in all different forms, luscious organic salads, interesting wraps, gobo teas, magnificent muffins and more.

But, the other day when I went to lunch there I realized that all my prior visits must have been filled with that kind of "ignore-your-wallet" mentality that allows us to plop down more than average dollars for items we normally wouldn't even consider spending that kind of dough for when we are on vacation or away from our home towns.

Yes, they have mastered the art of cappuccino foam art, but so has Groundwork where you file into a tiny hole in the wall space, get greeted by a jovial girl commandeering the espresso machine and get to read your daily horoscope that they paste on the counter top daily with care in a very grassroots and personalized way.

This whole meal cost me $16. That's not a dinner plate, but a small side plate of salad. And it's only the half order. Urth Salad is a yummy thing with hearts of pine, garbanzo beans, feta cheese and artisanal lettuces but notice the only two tiny tomatoes? Very delicious ginger, carrot, celery and beet juice as well but it came to me warm.

The place is always super packed, customer service doesn't seem to be high on anyone's mind, and it's oftentimes hard to find seating. I can do better at the Venice Farmer's Market and recreate that salad anytime at home. I'm over Urth and not likely to go back anytime soon.

Izakaya at Aburiya Toranoko

This past Sunday I was invited to a night of Japanese culinary and cultural celebration by my friend Bill that began with my first experience with Izakaya (Japanese tapas) and ended with a dance performance at the Japanese American Cultural Center in Los Angeles.

We chose the restaurant Aburiya Tokanoko because of its across the street proximity to the theater but also because we had both been reading exemplary reviews of the place that offered more than sushi and was rumored to have a bar staffed with an exquisite mixologist.

The restaurant, dimly lit and bustling with street energy, offered a New York meets Tokyo style ambiance with its graffiti mural along one wall and triptych above the sushi bar that was reminiscent of old traditional Japanese tiger, nature and warrior paintings. The service was a tad bit slow but the meal was memorable.

I love places where you can order a bunch of small plates and share them. We quickly chose a round of dishes that appealed to us, deciding to forego the sushi since we could get sushi anywhere and there were too many delights on the menu to tantalize us away from that usual fare. I imagine all of our dishes, if they had been dumbed down a bit in ingredient and price, could easily mirror things we might find at two a.m. on any Tokyo street side food vendor's cart. Although I thought our order wasn't going to be enough for dinner, as sizes here range on the very small side of the scale, I was pleasantly full at the end of our meal. It reminded me that when you order a bunch of small things and enjoy them with relish, taking your time between bites of creatively concocted cuisine, you actually have enough time to feel full and not overindulge.

Pickled Octopus with Cucumbers

Perfectly seasoned with just the amount of sweet pickled tang, this cold and refreshing starter was full of julienned, chewy bits of octopus and thin slices of refreshing cucumber intensified by the subtle nuttiness of sesame seeds that packed a lot of punch in each bite.

Eggplant with Sweet Miso

This was my favorite dish of the meal. I love eggplant and order it whenever I see it on a menu, always surprised at the myriad ways it can be cooked, seasoned and textured. This now competes with the the warm julienned eggplant, mozarella, corn and olive oil salad I ate daily at a bistro in Venice, Italy six years ago as my top eggplant dish. Boiling hot chunks of eggplant swimming in a creamy, warm sweet miso paste and topped with the added crunch of sprinkled sesame seeds. I will order this again and may make a special trip just because of this dish. Comfort food in small bites.

"Chikuwabu" Fish Cake

My dinner companion was not that fond of this dish but I liked it. For those who are not into "fishy" tastes, stay away, but those who love the taste of the ocean like I do, order away! It's an acquired taste for sure. A dense, chewy roll swimming in a sauce of pure briny delight, made even better when powered up by a dab of the accompanying specially made yellow wasabi sauce. The sea, the fire, and the flesh in one concise mouthful.

Chili Shrimp

Extremely spicy little plump and delicious shrimp full of fire that popped in the mouth and seared the tongue. 

BBQ Pig's Feet

The restaurant serves up an alternative chef's specials menu nightly depending on whatever they have around for that day. We asked the waitress what we should order for the evening in this spirit and she pointed to an adjoining table where the patrons were slurping bones joyously. So we ordered the BBQ pork feet in the spirit of Anthony Bourdain and were pleasantly surprised. Although you had to literally wield around bones and between toes to get the elusive slivers of gelatinous, chewy, and tiny chunks of meat amounting to probably only a few bites in the overall experience, it was fun and very tasty in a sweet caramelized meaty way.

Shiso Leaf Vodka Infused Martini

The place has the ordinary list of good sakes, Asian beers and rice or traditional wines and my dinner companion who is a straight up martini man stuck safely with those. I am typically a Sapporo girl in joints like this but because I am always tantalized by the words "expert mixologist" I decided to try a cocktail. My first attempt, the Ginger Dream Martini, was a disappointment. It tasted like watered down champagne absent of vodka. But my second attempt, the Shiso leaf infused vodka martini was incredible. Floating with a giant leaf, it tasted verdant, bitter and green like the forest and is something I would definitely drink again.

Although we also ordered the White Fish Sashimi with Kiwi, we were both not pleased with the thinnest ever slices of fish that were almost transparent and swimming with a thick kiwi sauce that was way too sweet that it overpowered the fish that was hardly there to begin with. 

I would like to go back to see if this is the case with all the sushi or not and will definitely go back for a fresh round of untried tapas in the future until I conquer the entire menu!

Sumptuous Saturday Sloth at Joe's

I walk past Joe's Restaurant everyday on my afternoon walk but today I had the opportunity to eat within its hallowed walls. I say hallowed because my favorite places in the world are the ones where the chefs decide what they are making daily on the day that they are making it according to what is fresh, local and interesting in the moment. What a way to stay passionate about your culinary calling! Everyday a blank slate to fill with something thought up on the spot and delivered to a crowd used to trusting such surprises....

A meeting today with my friend Michael and his gallerist over the most interesting brunch I have had, ever, maybe. The reason simply being in my entree of grilled shrimp served with a fried egg over honey grits with walnuts embedded into the mix. Comfort food gone extreme, served in small portions to just delight the palate but not overindulge it.

Prior to that a bread plate was served. Sweet dark breads shared a plate with a bastard child of sourdough and brioche that was fluffy and served with jam or butter. The hostess suggested the pate plate as a starter and we enjoyed it, again in small bites. A slice of perfect pate with some radish and salmon and grainy rich mustard worthy of an Austrian meal.

Everything in small bites so that you had to savor each one.

To top it all off, very good espresso in tiny white cups with lemon wedges.