Cheese Plate Sighting...

The beauty of having a client who is a chef is that you get to have business meetings while the chef is tasting new places and meals around town. Thus was the case with the cheese plate experience tonight at new El Paseo restaurant in Palm Desert called Il Signo, which I am ever so happy exists! The place used to be a wine bar and prior to that, my fellow foodie Janet Newcomb's beloved cheese place. It has heavy shoes to fill and tonight it did but with a few things to learn--like don't put rolled up ham on a plate otherwise decked out in exquisiteness! We arrived at four and learned there was no wine. Being that cheese plates are about one of my favorite things in the world for breakfast, lunch or dinner, I was disappointed that I couldn't drink wine with it at this late hour. A quick visit to the wine store down the street and a bottle of Chianti was on the table. Note to Il Signo, it's cool that you charge a corkage fee and let us drink but if you are to contend, please get your liquor license-we want places like you to stick around! In any case, the saving grace came with the $20 combination plate that I was expecting to have the usual fruit fare of grapes to accompany the brie and bleu but that actually came with a plethora of ripe and softly tantalizing figs too! That is not something you see too much on the same space as expensive cheese in the desert so it was a nice delight. The cheeses were good and perfectly room temp with salami and meat sides and just enough for a taste of each. Nothing like talking molecular gastronomy, rediscovering recipes with new contemporary twists and underground speakeasy dinners over a variety of the best creamy slices and the "only in California" mini bowls of cashews and black olives.

My real dream version below:

Ultimate Cheese Plate

Slices of double cream brie

Slices of Jarlsberg

Slices of sharp white cheddar with ash marbling

Slices of marbled bleu

Hard peppercorn salami slices

Pieces of soft Anjour pear

Red, crisp seedless grapes

McIntosh apple slices, thin

Small, thin slices of sourdough toast

Small chunks of brown olive bread

Salted Chocolate Heaven

It is David Dixon's fault again. All he was supposed to do was come over with some semi-healthy Trader Joe's deli pizzas to pop in the oven and a good bottle of red while his husband helped me plan my new squash and herb garden. We were pleasantly surprised when he added a spinach with mustard vinaigrette salad to the mix. But then, of course, he made me sin, when he presented this box of sea salt caramels. I ate three and vowed to run an extra mile in the morning. You can not eat just one of these things. The scratchy bite of rock salt against the lip as you crack through the dark chocolate and into an oozing sea of world-class caramel...impossible...

Mexican Mornings Are Best!

I love Mexican breakfasts. Whether it is visiting San Francisco and eating Mission neighborhood chorizo and eggs with fat and fluffy tortillas and flat watery beans with my friend Danny, or our own little Don and Sweet Sue's in Cathedral City with the perfectly crumbled and spicy chorizo and eggs, to the huevos rancheros basic plate for mere bucks at John's where you can fold in the crispy brown hash browns with the green chili sauce--no matter how it is cooked, it is hard to find a bad Mexican meal first thing in the morning. Essentials are refried beans, homemade torts, scrambled eggs for me, a couple dashes of Tapatio, shredded cheese and it's good to go. My most recent huevos rancheros was made to order for me by a couple I know who make "from scratch" meals three times a day. Adding to the usual mix was the special simmered chili spread swimming in tangy, languid peppers and the way they piled everything up on the tortilla with a hat of melting cheese. Perfect Sunday favorite food!

Ode to Mindy!

You just don't find the European restaurant experience in the desert too often. There used to be Phillipe's--where my friend John and I would loll away lunchtimes on the weekend outside on the patio with Mediterranean buckwheat crepes stuffed with goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes while Jacques, our favorite cranky ass waiter, would serve us glass after glass of red, in which we'd dip the perfectly cooked and hole-filled crusty bread. When it closed, I felt true heartbreak but remembered that Mindy and Nicolas from Zin American Bistro used to eat lunch there and that the true sign of a good restaurant was when you would see owners from all the other good restaurants eating lunch there too...so I ventured to a new home with Zin, of which my good friend David would constantly rave. I fell in love with the place and it remains my place of choice. Being single, I tend to find comfort with married friends and regular joints, where I can feel a sense of home in the midst of my chaotic, activity-filled life. Zin became my haven for lunches and dinners with friends and now it is the place I go when I want a taste of good-old fashioned European hospitality that unfortunately, in this rat-race packed American world, is a rare gem. A few months ago when Nicolas passed away, the whole community of Zin's regulars showed up to celebrate his life and today, we frequent the place even more than before to show Mindy our love and devotion for the atmosphere she has so expertly created.  Chefs always say that the sign of a good restaurant is when the main chef isn't around but the food still remains the same and with Zin this is definitely the case. Last night, Zine was packed and I enjoyed a meal of mussels and chicken schnitzel. But the best part was at the end of the meal when Mindy came to join us, had the waiter pop a beautiful bottle of wine to share and a dessert plate of amazing cheeses and bread. Definitely something you won't get anywhere else! Zin will always be my home away from home in the desert.

Fabulous Mindy!

Things That Matter...

Okay, I know I am a dork for saying this but I am so happy about receiving my new Le Crueset mini wok from my friend Christy as a gift tonight. I decided about a month ago that my life, starting from this 36-year old girl-point on, would be all about five essential things: food, writing, art, friends, family....and that all other things were peripheral pars for the course. Ever since then I have experienced magical things, old friends appearing out of nowhere, new ones coming into the fold, the synergies of passion projects aligning together....you get the picture, what you pay attention to happens! It does!

Anyways, I met a fellow foodie recently who I haven't really ever hung out with in person, but whom I have admired from afar for her dedication to the community we live in, leadership walking of the walk, and a bunch of other fabulous things that make her an amazing female...tonight, she gave me a gift after we threw a party together for the women in the world who die daily of heart problems, and it was my first mini single-lady's Le Crueset wok, plus a pair of hot red spectacles to wear while chopping the onions, horseradish, leeks, and ginger sure to fill the small beige, perfectly concave, round pot soon enough. It's a lusciously gradient red on the bottom, which of course is the color of my soul.....I am going to have to throw a kitchen sink party with myself tomorrow just so I can cook something with whatever the heck is in the house, I am sure I can come up with something spicy, starting out cold and frigid, sweated to oblivion and shaken around on the stove....

I am thinking right away there will be some thai lemongrass ground chicken lettuce cups; then maybe some jicama, mint and ground turkey radicchio tacos; and then perhaps some fried Indian cheese with firm peas.

This is the stuff that makes life important: no less, no more...

Macrobiotic with the Barones!

The Barones rock. Not only are they true artists, but they are amazing people as well, who invited me over for lunch at their place for some macrobiotic delights! I had seen the jars of nuts and seeds and beans in their cupboard before but never realized the food could be so good. A soup was cooking on the stove when I arrived, host to sweet potato and squashes and carrots and a separate pot waiting for wheat fusili. I spent some time touring their outdoor sculptures of fun foods like macaroni and cheese speared with a fork; french fries, perfectly golden and falling from a carton; a meat ball swimming in a saucy spoon. Then on to their paintings, multicolored and depthful swimming with images of the feminine in history, with my glass of the sparkling iced drink that Tony made me filled with a a cherry red Italian wine and apple cider. Back on the kitchen bar stool I whisked the miso that was added to the soup and then dove into my smoking bowl. Biting into a spicy yellow chunk produced a ginger burst in my mouth. Within in minutes I was sweating bullets, it felt so cleansing and good! I was lucky enough to get a big bowl to go...

Filet Mignon For Four Please!

My daughter and I always joke that we have "champagne tastes on a beer budget." One of our favorite "champagne taste" places to eat has always been Spencers at the Mountain in Palm Springs. Nestled up against the gorgeous Santa Rosa's in Palm Springs, tucked into the famed Tennis Club, the restaurant is home to the power lunch where one can see a list of valley's whos who making business deals daily, but also is home to the exquisite dinner experience.

In the summer when people fly from the heat to their "other" homes, all of us working people get to enjoy restaurants without reservations. Every August, one of my favorite things to do is visit my friend Ruby Montana who owns a wild retro pink hotel called the Coral Sands and take a little "staycation" in my own backyard. We spend days lolling away in the pool and near sundown, love to jump in her convertible beige VW beetle named "Dinah" and drive to Spencers for a three hour, laughing-our-asses-off dinner of soft shell crab and Grey Goose martinis at Spencers.

Once a year, for a special treat, I will take my daughter to Spencers to feed her "champagne taste" for filet mignon. My daughter is a true beef connoisseur and won't eat anything but filet usually. She doesn't even need any sauce, just a knife and fork and some medium rare. At 18, she's already figured out that Spencer's serves the best cut, even though it is not known as a steak house per se, and she's rather eat her beef there than any renowned steak joint in comparison. And it's true, Spencers serves up their meat so perfectly that you could almost cut it with a fork. Served simply with a roasted tomato stuck with thyme sprigs and simples sides that are just a bit bent from tradition--like the creamed spinach that comes withe less cream, larger shreds of spinach and burnt cheese on top or the truffle oil skinny fries--you can really focus on the pleasurable natural flavors of the food.

A little house cab to go with the beef and not much more is required for this once in a while treat.

Halloween Hangover Cure

Okay, I admit, now that I am in my mid thirties, I try to not find an occasion to need the almighty hangover cure remedy anymore. There simply are not enough hours in the day as it is, let alone, allowing myself the freedom to succumb to all night parties or long days after succumbing to the couch and the thudding headache. But every once in a while in life, it's time to cut a rug and what better than a holiday such as Halloween for an excuse to do so. Which is why this past haunted day, I danced too much and dipped into the dry ice boiling cauldron one too many times for the surprise bubbly punch. Thank goodness a gaggle of us ended up at a friend's house for coffee and breakfast in what became a deliciously simple yet luxe hangover meal that allowed me to be semi-productive the following day. I would prescribe this to all...go to Trader Joe's and stock the cupboard for anytime in the future you decide to go out and have a little too much fun!

Essential Ingredients:

Thick, maple wood smoked bacon, the kind you still have to tear off in meaty strips in order to fry.

Pumpkin spice waffle mix

Butter (no syrup)

Organic free trade coffee

Whip it all up in a matter of minutes and get out the guitar laying strewn in last night's corner and play a few renditions of Carly Simon and Stevie Nicks, the perfect accompaniment to the morning after voice!

P.S. If it's day lights savings time, try to remember the night before you wake up so you don't lose that extra hour of sleep!

Van Horn Family Dinner

I have been adopted by a family named the Van Horns. Hugh and Jeni are a fabulous couple with three kids: the ever-efflourescent Ryan, the mysterious Regann, and the not even a year old charmer Lincoln. They are the kind of friends that I always enjoy seeing all-together, especially at the tail end of long weekends spent coordinating parties or fundraising events that I am too busy mingling to eat at. On Sundays, hungry, I sometimes tend to just show up at their home, tired and spent, no make-up and crazy-haired looking for some time rolling around on the floor with the kids while some sports game plays on the t.v. Usually, Hugh pours me a glass of wine and fires up the outdoor grill while Lincoln teethes on my IPhone and Ryan begs me to chase her around and play "tickle monster." But today I am spent having thrown a Halloween party the night before, so I tell my faux-fam that I am only around for a few minutes to get a dose of the sweet innocence and pure joyousness of their household which is like Vitamin B to my soul.

Hugh manages to prolong me long enough by saying that it's these moments in life when you just pop in with friends that are the best, long enough to finish cooking up a fine tri-tip and to send me off with my own Van Horn plate of meat, corn on the cob and a buttery potato. Nothing like walking into my home on a Sunday evening to veg on the couch with a ready made meal crafted with love by members of my adopted tribe. If only we all made a plate on Sunday for someone we loved, the world might be a better place!

Momma’s Morsels: Swedish Pot Roast

One of my earliest memories is of waking up with the smells of Swedish Pot Roast cooking in my home. A wine-based scent spiked with nutmeg and cinnamon that wafted into my childhood dreams on days when I would I would awake happy knowing that the night's meal would be one of my favorites. One of my mother's infamous crock pot dishes, the meat would literally fall apart with barely a touch from the fork, and the slight ginger sweetness infused into the beef combined with hearty chunks of vegetable side dishes, made this one of those hearty meals that one grows up craving for life for cold nights with the pleasures of family.

My mother decided to make this for us the other night on occasion of my brother being in town to help me with our new joint project of gutting and rehabbing the cherished family home, and between tearing up old carpet pads and scrubbing wallpaper paste from the walls, we relished in the smells wafting in from the kitchen. Just like old times, the three of us piled our plates full, pouring a reduced ginger snap dressing over the tender meat, and ate together on the couch just like we used to do twenty years ago.

I woke up near midnight that night listening to the sounds of my daughter and her boyfriend raiding the fridge to heat up plates of their own and chuckled as my daughter's "oohs and ahhs" sounded exactly like my own...

Swedish Pot Roast

4 lbs. beef pot roast

2 tsp. nutmeg

2 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. ginger

2 tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. pepper

4 bay leaves

2 Tbls. shortening

2 onions, sliced

1 clove diced garlic

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 cup red wine

Combine nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger, salt and pepper and rub into meat. Let sit in the rub in fridge for at least two hours. Heat cooker (crock pot) and add shortening. Brown meat on all sides on stove in pan. Add meat to crock pot and add onion, garlic, brown sugar dissolved in wine, and bay leaves. Close and cook on low all day. 

Serve with steamed carrots, potatoes, and a salad of romaine, walnut, and gorgonzola with simple balsamic/olive oil dressing.

Girls Night at Tropicale

One of my favorite restaurants in Palm Springs is Tropicale. It opened a few years back and brought a sense of tropical chic to the valley. With a great gay and straight mix, awesome happy hours at a Flamingo-esque bar, smoking hot negronis, and a great selection of food, it has become my choice for monthly girls' night out. Some stand out items include the nori roll, which is served slightly warm with a cream wasabi sauce; the barbecue chicken personal-sized square shaped pizza which is a mouth explosion of sweet grilled corn kernels, even sweeter, tangy sauce and perfectly melted cheese (I wake up dreaming about this pizza) and the red velvet cupcakes dessert (which I have once every few months because it is up in the top ten of my favorite sweets)! Last night was the perfect girls' night--with a great bottle of red and the pleasure of the best booth in the house (thanks Michelle!) and the sweet smile of owner Rand, we whooped it up late for a school night. Even though my rule is to try something different at restaurants each time I eat there, it's impossible for me to do at Tropicale. My friend Stephanie and I always order the same meal. A starter soup of butternut squash floating with slices of long thin mushrooms that is not to heavy or creamy and a small filet mignon salad that is served warm with small potato chip strips to add the perfect dose of crunch. Highlights of the evening: the gay waiter telling us of his recent weight loss when he left an older man, Stephanie's tales of her summer in Italy with her new man, Edna's admission of new love in her life, Denise's goddess mama laughter ringing through the house, Nicky upset from her Phillies losing but jovial nonetheless, and my plans for my next art photo shoot starring Stephanie as a pre-Raphaelite vixen. Nothing like good food and good friends on a school night, especially friends I have known since junior high.

Filet Mignon Salad (My Own Twist)

Serves 2

Ingredients:

Leftover filet mignon, cut into strips

4 cups Arugula

1/4 cup Gorgonzola Cheese Crumbles

3 Tablespoons Girard's Champagne Dressing

1/4 cup Beet Vegetable Chips smashed up into medium sized pieces

Throw everything together and toss! Serve room temperature.

Maria's Mascarpone

 

My friend Maria is insane in a very good way. She is an entrepreneur who comes up with these incredible ideas, but unlike most people, actually researches, learns and carries them all through to some level of success. A few years ago, she decided to start her ice cream company called Maria’s Mascarpone, with the key ingredient of the mascarpone cheese, elevating her above normal ice cream companies with its bizarrely good textural elements and creamy, good richness infusing the age old dessert with a contemporary twist. Not only is her ice cream great but also the flavors are out of this world: Pumpkin Pecan Spice, Buttered Date Pecan, Pumpkin Caramel, Peppermint Tree Bark and Chocolate Ganache (creamy dark chocolate heaven!).

To my shocking surprise, my favorite of them all was her Avocado Ice Cream. I know, it sounds like the weirdest thing in the world and I was very leery of trying it, but after one bite I was completely hooked and can honestly say it remains my favorite ice cream flavor ever. Something about the way avocado flavor turns subtle and refreshing while made cold with just a hint of sweetness is kind of the same result that happens when I eat green tea ice cream at Japanese Restaurants. And apparently I wasn’t alone; her Avocado Ice Cream took first prize at an Avocado Festival. Her date ice cream won first prize at the Date Festival as well.

Today, my dear Maria delivered a nice little surprise to my house during lunch, a new flavor called Walnut Chestnut Maple, adorned with four perfect pumpkin spice cookies embellished with fig spread. After finding chestnuts at Williams Sonoma, she spent a few obsessive days tasting the small morsels in her mouth while feverishly trying to find accompanying ingredients. Because the chestnut flavor is so distinct, she didn’t want to mess it up too much, thus the perfect addition of another mellow nut—the walnut. The maple syrup ribbons add a spike to the nuts that fills the belly with the tastes of Fall. One bite and I started to feel the holidays envelop me with all that good home hearth warmth.

Maria’s ice cream is not cheap. At ten dollars a pint it is a definite splurge. But she’s not willing to succumb to mass production and lower standards so she makes her ice cream on special order during holidays and major events for custom order. Each batch is a three-day process of melding flavors, creating infusions, and then the final mix and freeze. It is a splurge worth doing when you are trying to impress guests over holiday dinners or as presents for friends.

To order some of your own, email Maria at maria.zang@yahoo.com. Your mouth and the mouths of those you love will thank you!

Indio Sushi

My friend Hugh is like the male version of me. He likes show tunes, is often mistaken for gay because of his knowledge of swing dancing and non-top 40 cultural icons, (which I am occasionally mistaken for because of my knowledge of 70’s disco classics), he enjoys coming to the opera with me, as does his goddess of a wife Jeni and his little less-than-a-year-old son Lincoln who is my current boyfriend of choice, and he enjoys a good drag show. But we also share a love of food. One of the best gorgonzola chicken salads ever was served to me at one of his weekly family dinners where I, by proxy of adoption, am permanently granted entry. We also share a love of a Palm Desert dive lounge lizard bar called Casey’s which serves up piano-bar style soul nearing twelve midnight on any given good night where an aged b-actress or two waits her turn to belt out the blues.

In any case, I don’t have regularly scheduled hours with Hugh. No formal meetings or occasions on the calendar set months in advance like everything else, with him it’s more impromptu. His wife knows I am one of the guys, so when we slip out for a glass of some fine liquid or decide that we are going to train for the Palm Springs marathon next year together, she just sighs her sigh, and thinks, “thank god he’s got someone to play with him who I love too.”

Today, it was sushi in Indio at Frankie’s. Now to any other person reading this blog, they might think sushi at Frankie’s sounds not so out of the ordinary but to those of us who live in the Coachella Valley (an area far enough away from the sea that most people don’t trust sushi unless it’s No Da Te on El Paseo which serves up a $25 all you can eat sushi deal every summer to loyal locals), we know that you can not find good sushi most places.

Then, there are what I call the low down places like Joe’s Sushi in Palm Desert near the 1-10 freeway—always packed, always fresh, always cheap and the coolest chefs ever and when you are in the mood for ghetto strip mall kind of Sunday afternoon deal-down-round-the corner -meal, with hot sake of course, it’s perfection.

But if you think of the simplicity of good Mexican food and the only caveat being fresh implementation, it’s not that far away of a hop, skip and jump to sushi—simply done in the standard and true-blue styles of spider roll, spicy tuna hand wrap and of course, hot salted edamame.

We discussed the upcoming social season, the silly things we buy with money, the downsizing of our generation to build a kinder, gentler (and more show-tuned filled kind of culture) bi-partisan human race, and ate until we were too full to finish…

LADIES ROCC

My friends Dixie, Lisa and I started a lunch club called The Raw Oyster and Chardonnay Club (LADIES ROCC); really just an excuse to eat raw oysters and drink Chardonnay for lunch. We’ve been all over the valley. Fisherman’s Market is great for loud boisterous summer days with Cajun salmon Caesar salad and fish tacos; Pacifica when they are visiting me on my side of town, Le Vallauris when we are feeling particularly luxurious and crisp in the Fall; but most often Zin because it comes along with owner Mindy, great wine and lots of laughter that ensues when one gathers with friends midday in a favorite, comfortable place. 

One dozen is usually enough unless it’s somebody’s birthday or anniversary (that is when the spouses arrive). The oysters at Zin are always compact and meaty, creamy little morsels set perfectly in their shells with a nice trio dish of cocktail sauce, horseradish, and mignonette. I usually spear a chunk of the dry horseradish and throw it in the shell then take the whole thing into a nice mignonette dip. Never is anything more needed.

A white that Dixie picks (because he is the wine guru) is followed by the famous roasted chicken salad. Okay, this salad is undoubtedly in my top five salads of all time: the amazing subtle dressing which manages to stay extremely creamy while remaining just a trace, drizzled across the salad of red leaf lettuce, dandelion and mustard greens, and perfectly moist roasted chicken strips is exquisite enough if not for the jewels of tiny kalamata olives, and the Roquefort cheese spiked into the mix in a few tangy crumbles.

We talk about life, work, future dinner parties, art projects, sex, and politics and usually end up with a toast of one form or another, most likely to the fact that we are grateful we have each other.

Momma’s Morsels: Salmon Patties With Creamed Peas

For Anny Cooper and Irene Dixon

My mother was born and raised in Iowa in a town you can ride your bike around in half an hour, surrounded by cornfields and farms that dot the perimeter and provide harvests of fresh foods all year round. I still can’t go back to visit my grandmother there without being force-fed twenty-four hours a day. In Iowa, just walking into a kitchen starts a plethora of “Want some fresh coffee cake I just whipped up?” “Want some fresh baked chocolate chip cookies?” “I canned some peaches last night in sugar, want some?” Considering I gain about a pound a day while there, I rarely stay more than a week.

Being the Midwest, this meant my mother grew up being a die-hard fan of the spud and the ear of corn and the crock pot and the worker man’s casserole designed to feed, with the ever essential ingredients of a vegetable, a meat, a can of Campbell’s cream of something soup, and a slab of Velveeta, a whole army of kids destined for the tractor pull life.

While I was little and my mother was still a single woman raising two feisty girls, these recipes made there way to our small dinner table quite often. Not only was the food cheap and easy, it provided leftovers for easy heat up in the microwave and was the kind of food that was better the next day anyway. Although we had our favorites, my sister and I grew up craving the more exotic California fare of our lifetimes and favored nouveau cuisines to the staples from my mother’s hometown and we relegated these dishes to the fond memory file, not prone to cook this kind of food on our own, while we were delving into all things vegetarian, Indian or Thai. I vowed never to buy a box of Velveeta as long as I lived.

Like most things left over from the fifties, (Lucille Ball style cigarettes in a cup in every room of the house, gin and tonics at 4 p.m., and artery-clogging amounts of cream and sugar and butter in everything), my mother’s olive green plastic recipe box with its numerous varieties of lined index cards stained with lard fingerprints and bits of years’ old sauces and cake smudges of flour, remains in my family home but more like a cultural icon to a day when we knew less about (or plain didn’t give a damn about) healthy eating and lifestyles.

Recently, my friend Dixie gave me a copy of his own mother Irene’s recipe box but made into a new booklet by his handy graphic designer hands and we shared an afternoon laughing together nostalgically while reading the little momma bon mots that reminded me of my own. A pinch of Bisquick to every bread. Tator tots as the perfect topping to any baked dish. And so on…

Al of this talk made me miss some of my momma’s meals. One of my favorites was salmon patties and creamed peas. I recalled her version crafted of canned salmon and bread crumbs and eggs with the rich cream swimming with sweet peas to top it off and always a side of mashed potatoes so that we could make a mountain of everything on the plate so that every bite contained every ingredient. Don’t know why all of this smashed together was so belly-warming but it was. When I mentioned my craving to my mother she laughed, recalling when my sister Katie, in her new wedded domestic state in Santa Barbara years ago, called from a grocery store aisle when looking for a can of creamed peas so she could impress her new husband with this nostalgic statement only to discover she had to actually make the stuff from scratch. Mom invited me to join her that evening for dinner and served the following updated (aka slightly less heart-attack inducing) version that made my soul shake with goodness!

Salmon Patties and Creamed Peas

(Serves 2)

Ingredients:

Trader Joe’s Alaskan Salmon Patties

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons flour

2 cups milk

I can peas

In a small saucepan melt the butter and add the flour, stirring with a fork until it is a paste. Add one tablespoon of milk at a time while stirring constantly as the cream sauce is formed. Keep repeating this slowly until all the milk is used. The trick is to stir with a frenzy with each addition of a tablespoon of milk until perfectly blended and a little bit thicker. This takes about ten to fifteen minutes. Add the peas and fold in. Keep warming on stove on low heat, stirring occasionally while cooking the salmon patties per the packages directions. Spoon the creamed peas over the patties. Salt and pepper to taste.

For extra soul soothing, serve with mashed potatoes and get a bite of everything at once with each bite.

Frog's Leap Wine Dinner at Zin

What do you get when you combine one of the best chefs in the desert with one of the best restaurants in the desert with one of the best organic wine companies?

Clearly, an excuse to fork out $70 bucks and find a friend to dine with pronto! Which is exactly what my friend Kaleo and I did this past week when we heard that Chef Aaron Kiefer (East Meets West Catering) was crafting a special parings menu for Frog's Leap Vineyards wine at one of our favorite restaurants in town Zin.

Mindy Reed, owner of Zin American Bistro in Palm Springs is offering wine dinners monthly with guest chefs and this was my intro to the inner sanctum of foodie delights. We ate family style at a table that happened to be filled synchronistically with old friends: a local radio personality, a local PR guy, a renowned and fun food writer and his wife and an old female mentor of mine who owns a grieving children's non-profit. Wine, good conversation, dimmed golden lights that lent a surreal and tasty haze to each bite and laughter ringing throughout the night!

The Menu:
Sauvignon Blanc, Napa, 2008
Spiced Pumpkin Bisque with Chive Spaetzel,
Manchego Cheese

"One person at our table upon taking a bite of this soup exclaimed It Tastes Like Fall!"

The toasted almonds and chewy spaetzel fragments created a mouth textural explosion in this soup that wasn't too sweet like some pumpkins.

Merlot, Napa, 2006
Potato Wrapped Veal Sweetbreads, Melted Leeks, Fingerling Potatoes, House Cured Maple-Spiced Bacon

Pairing this spicy dry merlot with the sweetbreads was brilliant as the red wine tempered the poignancy of the sweetbreads and the perfect portioned strips of potato around the musky meats lent the perfect crispy package before the sweetbreads burst in the mouth.

Zinfandel Napa, 2007
24 Hour Braised Beef Short Ribs, Fig and Arugula Risotto,
Pistachio Pesto, White Asparagus “a la Plancha”, Zin Jus

The fig and arugula risotto was so subtle and a perfect example of Chef Aaron's ability to infuse his progressive dishes with just hints of aromas and tastes that other chefs might go overboard on. The short ribs fell from the bone just by looking at them, and the very slight smokiness of the seared exteriors was the only flavor accentuating the exquisitely cooked beef just like it should be.

FRÖGENBEERENAUSLESE, Late Harvest Riesling, 2007
Rum-Ricotta Cake, Vanilla Croutons, Meyer Lemon Crema,
Aged Balsamic and Blueberries

The tang of the Meyer lemon creme in this desert put an exclamation point on the evening!

I will be making a permanent reservation at these dinners. If anyone wants to join me, visit www.zinamericanbistro.com for the schedule. Would love to fill a big table for the November evening!

Fig and Arugula Risotto

Ingredients:

For the Vegetable Stock:
2 onions, coarsely chopped
2 leeks, trimmed and coarsely chopped
2 carrots, coarsely chopped
1 celery stick, coarsely chopped
Salt

For the Risotto:
1 and 1/2 oz (40 grams) butter
1 onion, finely chopped
12 oz (350 grams) risotto rice
5 tablespoons dry white wine
1 and 1/2 tablespoons Parmigiano cheese, freshly grated plus extra to serve
6 fl oz (175 ml) single cream
Small bunch of Arugula, chopped
½ Cup Dried Figs

Salt and pepper

 

Directions:

Prepare the Vegetable Stock:
Place all the vegetables in a large saucepan, pour in 1.5 liters (2 and 1/2 pints) water, add a pinch of salt and bring to the boil.
Lower the heat and simmer gently for about 20 minutes.
Remove from the heat and leave to cool slightly, then strain into a bowl pressing down well on the vegetables with a spoon.

Prepare the Risotto:
Bring the stock to the boil.
Meanwhile, melt the butter in another saucepan, add the onion and cook over a low heat, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes.
Stir in the rice and cook, stirring, until grains are coated in butter.
Add in the wine and cook until it has evaporated.
Add a ladleful of the hot stock and cook, stirring until it has been absorbed.
Continue adding the stock, a ladleful at a time, and stirring until each addition has been absorbed. This will take 18-20 minutes.
Just before the rice is tender, stir in the Parmigiano cheese and cream, sprinkle with the arugula and season with and pepper to taste.

Transfer to a warm serving dish and serve with extra Parmigiano cheese. Serves 4.

USE A WOODEN SPOON!!!!

Crusty on the Outside, Soft on the Inside

A friend brought me a big fat Jersey heirloom tomato the other day that she had received in a shipment from the East coast. It was the plumpest. juiciest tomato I have ever seen and I wanted to do something special with it so I asked my friends for advice on what to make.

I received a dozen comments including:

“Slice or just bite into it”

“Salt and straight up”

“Olive oil and fresh mozzarella”

“Drizzle warm balsamic over it with cracked black pepper and some fresh basil sprigs”

“Arugula, sherry gastrique, micro sourdough croutons and manchego cheese”

Although these were all good suggestions, I wasn’t in the mood for a cold salad on the first evening in the desert that I actually felt a perceptible whiff of Fall and the absence of the brutal summer heat so I decided to get creative and make a new twist on an old and solid gold comfort food, the BLT.

I had a few slices of California Pizza Kitchen bread left over from my salad lunch—bread, which I never end up actually eating but that suddenly seemed quite appealing for the task. Something about the thickness of CPK bread has always appealed to me, as well as the ovular shape small enough for the perfect decadent sandwich. It became the perfect bread for this meal that upon grilling created a crust on the outside but stayed airy soft on the inside. This mixed with the mellow room temperature warm, soft and perfect tomato, and the slightly grainy crunch of a bacon-mayonnaise became the ultimate textural combination worthy of trying with your leftover CPK bread.

CPK Bread BLT

2 pieces of leftover CPK bread

1 tablespoon mayonnaise

2 slices of bacon, cooked well done and crumbled

1 large, minimum ½ inch thick slice of heirloom tomato

2 tablespoons butter

Cracked pepper and salt to taste

Melt butter in pan and place two slices of bread in side by side and grill until golden brown crust forms on bottom. Use a rolling pin to reduce the bacon strip to powdery crumbles and then mix the bacon with the mayonnaise. Slather both sides of the bread with the mayonnaise and add the tomato slice with salt and pepper to taste.

Cinammon Sin

My friend David Dixon made me do it. I can have one cardinal sin a month, provided it just randonly comes to me in a sweet little package that I didn't ask for, and is most often a gift, so how can one not take it?

Today, it was this sweet cinnamon roll from Palm Springs Koffi, heated up for 30 seconds... 

You Can Take The Girl Out of Jersey…

Being a unorthodox foodie has its advantages, for example, I don’t need to follow any rules and I like to mix weird things together that normally wouldn’t pair well. For instance, classy pasta seafood meals with Major League Baseball—an unlikely combination that recently uncovered for me quite hearty results.

My friend Nicky is quite the cook and has been teasing me with the promise of Tunisian Harissa pasta for the past few months. Due to our dual PR lady careers, we’ve been typically too busy to get together and the only time that was a possibility for us (before the pasta went stale in her cupboard) was a night last week when she was committed to be home to watch her Philadelphia Phillies play an important game of the year.

Now, I am completely sports illiterate and sports on television has mostly always meant to me the background soundtrack to a feeling of childhood comfort when you know that your parents’ friends are all around the house, chilling and drinking beer and cursing at the television with tons of patties and weiners cooking somewhere on a grill. Nicky on the other hand is a Phillies freak and basically guaranteed me that if I was coming over for pasta, I would have to endure her own testosterone-emulated hoots and hollers at the screen.

I have to say there was something quite apt about the combination of the thick strips of spicy pasta, lovely carmelized shrimp, biting red wine and the stadium-worthy guttural screams emanating from my pint-sized friend in her cap and tee every time one of those cute boys in the white pants from the wrong team ran across the screen missing a home run ball hit by one her favorite team’s players.

Jersey Girl MLB Pasta

1 pound Pappardelle's brand of Tunisian Harissa pasta

4 tablespoons extra virgin or extra light olive oil

Several handfuls of crimini mushrooms

5 cloves of garlic, chopped

1 pound of Trader Joe's Argentinian red shrimp

Saute mushrooms in olive oil until semi-tender.

Add shrimp and garlic (let simmer for 20-25 minutes).

Cook pasta to al dente, then gently stir in with remaining ingredients.

Top with cayenne pepper, cracked black pepper, salt and grated parmesan to taste.

Serve with an organic 2008 Monastrell from the Jumilla region of Spain.

Proper Lunch with a Proper Doyenne

Lilli Joseph is one of my favorite friends. At 86 years old, she could be my grandmother, but the sparkly way her eyes light up with mischief when I tell her about my 36-year-old life, or the schoolgirl throaty giggles that escape her lips every time I tell her something particularly bold about myself, place her real age at more of a level of peer-someone I may have known since high school.

We eat at two restaurants all the time. Once a month during high season (when she's not in La Costa for the summer playing tennis three times a week) we skip away for a long one and a half hour full of conversation and French food at either Palm Springs' Le Vallauris or as in the case of today, Palm Desert's Cuistot. The ritual is always the same. I arrive and park my car and pass the valet stand where her car is prominently parked with its COMTESSA license plate. I enter the classic building designed to look like an impressive and cozy French estate and a waitress delivers me to the waiting Lilli, who has her glass of water by her side and a ruby-lipped kiss to stain my cheeks. She always orders a salad with grilled shrimp, avocado, and papaya ("dressing on the side and please tell the chef it's for Miss Lilli Joseph") and I always get the spinach salad with walnuts and topped with two perfect triangles of decadent Roquefort. When we are feeling particularly rebellious I will order champagne or red wine and she will take a small tumbler of scotch with a water back and sip it slowly throughout meal.

Today she tells me that having young friends like me are the reason she stays so alive. Not willing to hang out in the old folks home or with people who she says "can't carry themselves anymore upon their necks," she instead passes the time asking me a million questions.

"Are you married yet?"

"How is that gorgeous daughter of yours?"

"Aren't you taking any lovers?"

"You must one day find true love but the only way you are going to find it is when you aren't looking."

""When are you going to move to the South of France and become like Picasso in your paint-stained ball dress?"

Then she tells me she's proud of me and I tell her how much she has taught me over the past five years. What Lilli doesn't know is that, in return, her presence at our decadent expensive French salad luncheons, equally inspires me to live. Through my time with her, I have learned that the only way to truly live is fully, embracing my authentic self one hundred percent, and to enjoy the time I have over food and good wine with people like her more than the time I spend worrying about my career or how I might be perceived by others. You don't make it to 87 on this earth without knowing something!