New Yearakkah

With Hanukkah, Christmas and New Years Eve all falling within the same week during this past holiday season, Canuck and I really got into the spirit of things. It was the day before Christmas Eve and I was able to buy the last tiny 2-foot tree at Whole Foods (directly from their display, might I add) and I decorated it with our combined seven ornaments and some battery operated rainbow LED light as Canuck made massive batches of candy cane cookies (his family recipe) and rugelach. The next day, we drove the single hour – hardly enough time to listen to the entire Hamilton Mixtape – over the mountain to my parents home in Woodland; a welcome change from flying six hours to New York in a middle seat on an overpacked red eye.

Canuck’s Christmakkah Cookies

As we passed through the bottom of Lake Berryessa, it dawned on me that this would be the first time in my unreligious lifetime that I would be celebrating the first night of Hanukkah with my dear grandmother, Mema. I knew we would be lighting her beautiful peacock-like menorah, a piece that I’ve admired for years. So much so, that I claimed it “mine” when she began packing up her home in San Diego, preparing for a move to Davis to be closer to her family. What I didn’t know is that she intended to give it to me this year, as long as I continued the tradition of lighting the candle and saying the blessing each night of Hanukkah – or, joining Canuck when he said the blessing each night as I tended to the candles.

We made sure to light the eighth candle just before our guests arrived

To round out the holiday season, we decided to celebrate New Years Eve by throwing a fancy dinner party – the first of many dinner parties in our new home. And since New Years Eve landed on the eighth and final night of Hanukkah, I thought it would be appropriate to make gravlax for the first course. Naturally, Canuck made deliciously crispy latkes to pair with the gravlax, and also secured a tin of white sturgeon caviar that he served on homemade potato chips with crème fraîche.

 

That salad, though…

I ended up eating so much food during the first course (along with the delicious appetizers that our friends brought) that I barely had enough room in my stomach for the main course: leg of lamb with Moroccan couscous, crispy roasted potatoes, and green leaf salad with apples, aged gouda, dried cranberries and roasted walnuts. Canuck – being a professionally trained chef and the best boyfriend ever – took the lead on almost everything, but I was responsible for the salad (my specialty), cocktails, and the gravlax. Since I only had three jobs, I took each one of them very seriously, especially the gravlax.

Gravlax – a Nordic dish of raw salmon cured with salt, sugar and dill – is very easy to make and costs a lot less than store-bought lox. And when done right, it’s a luxurious treat that will impress any guest. The whole process involves a few quality ingredients, about a four day wait, and a really, really sharp knife. The only real variables are the ratio of salt to sugar, the curing time and any additional flavors you choose to add to the curing mixture.

Since it was my first go at this seemingly simple dish, and this was an important occasion (the long awaited end of 2016!), I wanted to insure that I made the best version of Gravlax, using the most gratifying combination of variables. To do so, I went to Serious Eats – a trusted source of Canuck’s – and found a recipe that was developed by Daniel Glitzer after a bit of testing. I was ready to go.

Gravlax With Caraway & Coriander (serves 10+)

• 1 (2-pound) skin-on, sushi-grade salmon fillet, pin bones removed by fishmonger
• 1 tsp caraway seeds
• 1 tsp coriander seeds
• 4 TB of kosher salt, plus more for washing salmon
• 1 TB sugar
• ½ tsp ground white pepper
• 1 or 2 large bunches of dill

Mustard-Dill Sauce

• 3 TB distilled white vinegar
• 2 TB roughly chopped dill fronds
• 5 TB Dijon mustard
• 1 TB sugar
• ¼ cup vegetable oil
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a mini food processor, combine vinegar with dill, mustard and sugar, and blend until dill is very finely chopped. Add oil and blend until a smooth sauce is formed. Season with salt and pepper.

Start with a short salt water bath: fill a large bowl with cold water and add enough salt to make it taste like the sea. Add the salmon and set aside for 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, toast caraway and coriander seeds in a skillet over high heat, stirring constantly for about 1 minute. Transfer to a spice grinder or mortar and pestle and grind finely. In a small bowl, stir together salt, sugar, ground caraway and coriander seeds, and white pepper until thoroughly combined.

The caraway and coriander were a nice touch

Remove the salmon from bath and pat dry with paper towels. On a clean work surface, turn salmon skin side up and sprinkle about half of salt mixture all over, rubbing in with fingers. Arrange half the dill all over the bottom of a baking dish large enough to hold salmon (and wide enough to fit a weight, like a pot of water). Set salmon skin side down on the bed of dill and rub remaining salt mixture all over top and sides of salmon. Top with remaining dill and cover with plastic, then top with a weight. I used a smaller baking dish with a pot of water on top, but you can also use canned beans or anything heavy. Place in the refrigerator.

After chilling for one day, remove from the fridge and carefully unpack the salmon, reserving the dill. Place the salmon back in, skin-side up. Repack with the dill, cover with new plastic and set the weight back on top. Refrigerate for another 2-3 days, until the salmon is firm and sufficiently cured, then unpack the salmon and remove the dill. Gravlax can be kept refrigerated tightly wrapped in plastic for approximately 5 days after curing.

Perfectly cured and ready to slice

Sliced super thin and topped with a little dill

When ready to serve, remove the salmon from the fridge and place on a clean, heavy cutting board. Using a very sharp slicing knife, thinly cut gravlax on the bias. Glitzer suggests serving the Gravlax on pumpernickel bread with dollops of mustard-dill sauce (recipe above) and bits of dill. I used the last bits of leftover gravlax to try it this way a few days after New Years, and it did not disappoint. But it didn’t hold a candle (no pun intended) to the pairing of gravlax and latkes that we had on New Years Eve. Topped off with some mustard-dill sauce (a little goes a long way), and you have the most delicious mouthful of Jewishness that ever occurred. And, although not Kosher at all, the caviar certainly didn’t hurt.

The most delicious way to ring in the New Year!

Back to Life

This has been the longest I have ever gone between blog posts, and I’m somewhat embarrassed. It’s a vicious cycle, really. You think, “well I’ve gone this long without posting, who will notice anymore?” Or, “I’m going to take 100 photos for my future blog post about this” and then realize you don’t have enough storage on your phone. I promised I would never let myself go this long without connecting with my dear readers, but then life happens and your hobby blog suddenly falls lower and lower on the list of priorities. But I’m back, and I’m going to be better than ever!

Let me give you a brief culinary recap of my life since my last post:

• I went to Seattle for the first time in my life and realized how much I miss living in a real city (but I still love you, Napa). I was there for a business trip, but stayed a little longer to indulge in all the culinary delights that the city has to offer.

One morning in Seattle (clockwise from top left): salmon pierogi, Hom Bow, lots of fish at Pike Place Market, Rose and Puget Sound oysters from Taylor Shellfish, and the Starbucks Roastery. Damn.

Fresh summer fruits from a market on Vashon Island, WA

Cider tasting at Dragon’s Head on Vashon Island, WA

Best brunch ever at Revel (clockwise from top left): ramen, savory monkey bread, spicy kimchi bloody mary, BBQ pork waffle, SPAM rice bowl… I could eat this stuff every Sunday.

• I tried some great, new (well, new to me) restaurants in Napa, including Bistro Jeanty, Two Birds One Stone, and Ad Hoc.

Blanquette de Lapin at Bistro Jeanty: Pancetta wrapped rabbit loin and braised leg with pappardelle pasta morels and truffle oil

Ratatouille at Bistro Jeanty

Okonomiyaki at Two Birds One Stone

Roasted whole chicken at Ad Hoc

• I ate a lot of delicious meats. Let’s just say, I know someone at Fatted Calf.

Said Fatted Calf employee (aka my boyfriend @PeterPorker13) raging on shoulder chops at “Butcher’s Happy Hour” – first Thursday of every month in Napa; every Wednesday in SF.

Fig and sausage stuffed quail from Fatted Calf

Wagyu prime rib… and Yorkshire pudding… and roasted potatoes… and Christmas.

• I made Gravlax for the first time (which warrants a separate post), for a super fancy New Years Eve dinner party that was hosted in my newly purchased townhouse! It has been taking up all of my energy and time, but it’s completely worth it.

Before and after of my living room/dining room/kitchen (missing cabinet doors). It’s amazing what floors, lights and paint will do to an old space!

Table setting for our first dinner party, on New Years Eve of course! I learned how to fold cool napkins just for this occasion.

I’m looking forward to getting back into the swing of things, especially now that I finally have a massive open kitchen with plenty of counter space (as well as a dishwasher!!!).

I’ve also set some culinary goals for 2017, including, but not limited to:

• learn to make sushi; more specifically, sushi rice
• make homemade pasta, including ravioli
• master the art of breaking down a chicken
• eat more caviar

My first go at sushi… looks pretty but I really need to work on the rice.

Caviar is served best on homemade chips with Crème fraîche.

Bayside Panzanella

Last summer I took my family to Hog Island for the first time. The event was part of a week-long thirtieth birthday celebration, and I had made the reservation months in advance (as one needs to). None of them really knew what they were getting into but they knew there were oysters involved and that’s all that really mattered at the time. Since my family hadn’t yet moved to Northern California, they were visiting from New York and they rented a minivan for the week. So my parents and I, my brother, his girlfriend (Hillz) and her sister (Livy) all piled into the car, trucking a leaky cooler full of beer and wine, a dozen sausages, the makings of a panzanella salad and a few picnic supplies. We set out towards the coast – Tomales Bay, to be exact – along a winding, cliffside road that made my vertigo-suffering mother and carsick ridden girls lose a bit of faith in me. I kept insisting, “it’s just around the corner, we’re so close, I promise it will be worth it…” but they couldn’t believe that something could be so good to make this treacherous ride worth the trip. Then we finally got there, and it sunk in: we were in oyster Heaven.

Last weekend the same crew made the trip again, our second year in a row of what will be a long-standing tradition. This time was a little different in that everyone was more prepared. The cooler was in tip-top shape, filled to the brim with light beers and oyster-friendly wines like Rosé, Chenin Blanc, Riesling and sparklers; we bought pre-cooked sausage links from Costco and Fatted Calf that wouldn’t burst over a direct flame; we had a table cloth and ample plastic picnic supplies, including a cutting board, grill tools and an oil brush (we’ll get to that). We were pros now.

Livy requested that I make the same panzanella salad again, and I couldn’t deny that I was already planning to do it. It’s the ideal grill-picnic salad because you can prepare the tomatoes at home and put them in a sealed container to marinate while you make the drive, then put the other ingredients in the cooler to keep them fresh, and use the oil from the marinade to coat the bread before grilling. Perfection!

Panzanella Salad with Fresh Ricotta (serves 8 as a side dish, 4 as a main)

• 1 garlic clove, smashed
• Salt
• 2 pounds assorted heirloom tomatoes, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 small red onion, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
• 3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• Freshly ground pepper
• 1 loaf ciabatta bread, sliced in half lengthwise
• 10 oz arugula
• 5 ounces fresh ricotta, crumbled

On a cutting board, using the flat side of a chef’s knife, mash the garlic clove to a paste with a pinch of salt; transfer to a large container. Add the tomatoes, onion, vinegar and the 3/4 cup of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Cover and let the mixture stand at room temperature, stirring a few times, for at least 1 hour or up to 2 hours.

Using an oil brush, generously apply the oil from the marinade to each side of the ciabatta. Grill the bread, oil side down, for about 7 minutes, or until brown and crispy, then flip to the other side and grill for 3 more minutes. Once cool, slice into 1½-inch chunks. Transfer the tomato mixture to a large platter and top with arugula and ricotta, then toss to combine. Top with the grilled bread chunks and serve.

This is the perfect salad to serve alongside a tray of four dozen shucked oysters, as a prelude to a heartier protein like sausage or another grilled meat. But if that’s not quite your plan, it also goes well with just about anything you would find at a cook-out. The freshness and acidity is great for a hot summer day, but it’s still substantial enough of a salad to soak up a booze-filled afternoon. You could swap the ricotta for burrata, but personally I think the ricotta keeps it nice and light whereas burrata might make the dish too heavy.

And if you’re an oyster-lover and Northern California is accessible to you, make Hog Island your day trip destination. It’s truly the best place in the world to consume oysters, and my father still has a hard time describing it to people who have never been. It definitely has a Maine-like East Coast vibe that appeals to my family of transplants, but to me it’s as California as California gets.

The Battle of Bacon Inferno

I’m rarely scared by anything that involves cooking, but I was pushed to my limits this week when I just barely escaped setting my arm on fire.

As you dear readers know, I often borrow recipes from Bon Appetit. So when I received the June issue with grilled bacon on the cover, I set my sights on it. And then when my Cooking Club elected to center our next meeting around a grilling theme in lieu of pulling recipes from a selected cookbook, I immediately stated that I would be making grilled bacon. As the days passed leading up to our meeting, I read over BA’s directions on how to avoid “Bacon Inferno” several times and I felt pretty confident that I wouldn’t be setting anything (or anyone) on fire. Fortunately for me, my confidence has the ability to transform into calmness when things go south.

Sweet and Spicy Bacon Kebabs with Scallion-Ginger Relish (makes 10)

• cooking spray (for grill)
• 4 tablespoons honey
• 4 tablespoons sambal oelek or red chili garlic sauce
• 2 tablespoon unseasoned rice vinegar
• 2 teaspoon Sriracha
• 10 slices thick-cut bacon 
• 6 scallions, thinly sliced
• 1 serrano chile, thinly sliced
• 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
• 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
• ½ teaspoon finely grated peeled ginger
• ½ teaspoon light brown sugar
• Kosher salt

Special Equipment

• Ten 8–12-inch-long metal skewers
• Grilling tongs
• Grilling mitten

When picking bacon for grilling, be sure to get thick-cut slices or ask your butcher to slice it ¼-inch thick for you. Naturally, I ordered my bacon from Fatted Calf and picked it up the afternoon of the grill fest. Their bacon is particularly fatty, which made me slightly nervous (more fat = more potential for inferno), but it’s the best quality bacon I’ve ever had so I knew it would turn out great regardless. When preparing the bacon skewers, be sure to thread the bacon through the skewers like an accordion, piercing through the meatiest part in each slice.

You can make the glaze up to a week in advance. In a small bowl combine honey, chili paste, rice vinegar and Sriracha. Transfer to a sealed container and store in the refrigerator until use. To make the relish, combine scallions, serrano chile, lime juice, sesame oil, ginger and brown sugar in a small bowl. Season to taste with Kosher salt, seal and keep at room temperature.

Now, from someone who nearly ruined it all, my tips on how to grill bacon successfully, in order of importance:

Place it over indirect heat. I can not stress this enough. My cooking club cohort and hostess of the evening (who shall be known as Ragazza from this point forth) has a charcoal grill, which is preferred. You can also do this on a gas grill, but be sure to keep one side of it unlit. Initially we had the coals *mostly* banked on one side of the grill, with a few stragglers on the other side. I figured it would be fine like this and I began to lay down the first batch of bacon skewers.

This is the INCORRECT way to arrange your coals and place your bacon. You will also burn the poor onions.

Turn it frequently, about every 45 seconds to a minute. One gal (who shall be known as Almond from this point forth) came out to chat with me while I was flipping the bacon skewers, and I could sense her shared nervousness about the fat drippings onto the coals. I was using tongs that were shorter than I would have liked and when I saw the flames starting to emerge in some of the coals, I asked if she could go grab me an oven mitt (which I may have to replace now). Thank you, Almond for your speedy assistance! As the flames roared up, I swiftly removed the bacon skewers from the grill while simultaneously telling Ragazza that we needed to adjust the coals for the next batch. She responded with, “you’re so calm, Kelsey.” Only on the outside.

This is the CORRECT way to arrange your coals, with a fresh batch of onions on the side.

Patience is key. For the second batch, Ragazza helped me move some of the coals over to one side of the grill, so we were completely coal-free on the other side. I arrange my bacon skewers over the space and turned them every minute or so, moving them around the left side of the grill to get more or less heat as needed. This method definitely took longer (about 15-20 minutes) but I was VERY pleased to see that there was no inferno, and even more pleased with the results.

Glaze, glaze, glaze. In my first batch, I had been in such a rush to remove the bacon and keep it from burning that I didn’t have time to glaze it. So I added the glaze to the bacon off-grill (still on skewers) and cooked it for a few minutes over the new, coal-free space, turning every 30 seconds. This works better than simply glazing already-grilled bacon because you want it to caramelize a bit and work itself into the fat. Since I had plenty of time with my second batch of bacon, I really focused on the glaze and made sure to give each slice two layers per side, turning frequently so it didn’t get too crispy.

Share it with people that you really, really like. After all, you are risking your arm hair. I kept the bacon on the skewers for serving, and generously topped it with the scallion relish. There were only five of us so each person got to have two pieces, but we all agreed that we would have ate more if it was there (because, bacon). Ragazza noted that it resembled a really nice pork belly, which I agreed with. In fact, I think you could do this with cubes a pork belly and have a similar – if not better – result. Almond thought that I should put the glaze on everything; I think I will utilize the leftover glaze and relish with some scrambled eggs or broiled salmon.

Prior to grilling my bacon, I charred a few ears of corn to go into a salad of tomato, basil, onion, thyme and lime juice. The rest of the ladies in my group also contributed beautiful and innovative grilled vegetables to the event: lettuces and squash blossoms with Caesar dressing, cheese and bacon stuffed jalapeños, spring onions with life changing Romesco sauce (the contents of which were all grilled, except the almonds)… we were surprised yet pleased to see so many vegetables on the plate in a grilling-themed meal, and agreed that the bacon was the perfect meaty addition. Almond finished off the evening with a grilled Angel Food Cake with fresh strawberries and homemade whipped cream, which was the perfect sweet reward to battling a bacon inferno.

Local Innovation at The Bewildered Pig

Last week I traveled to Mendocino with Canuck for an early birthday celebration! He let me do the majority of the planning – including two breweries (no, I don’t just drink wine) – but did suggest a dinner spot in Philo for our first night of the trip: The Bewildered Pig. I trust Canuck’s picks, especially when it comes to food, and after checking out their menu and hearing that his friend from culinary school is the sous chef, I got pretty excited about this place.

The Bewildered Pig is the brainchild of Chef Janelle Weaver and her partner, Daniel. After spending several years as an executive chef at a prestigious Napa winery, Janelle ventured out on her own culinary endeavor with the goal to create an unpretentious restaurant with a large focus on farm to fork, sourcing everything locally (their pigs come from down the street) and from their own gardens. The dishes are elegant yet casual, refined yet rustic, sophisticated yet simple; dualities that I learned Janelle possesses herself after chatting with her throughout the course of the night.

The wine list is a combination of selections from Anderson Valley and Sonoma County and an extensive list of Old World favorites. Keeping with the local theme, I selected the 2014 Balo “Suitcase 828” Estate Pinot Noir. The wine was more feminine on the nose, with aromas of white flowers, bright red fruit and an element of freshness. But the palate was bold and earthy, reflecting more of a masculine tone. One of the things I love most about Pinot Noir (especially Pinots from Anderson Valley) is how androgynous it can be, which makes it a versatile wine for food pairings. Sure enough, it paired perfectly with nearly everything that we ate.

We started off the evening with a delectable amuse-bouche from the kitchen: Penny Royal Laychee Crostini with a Pea & Fava Pistou. (Side note: Penny Royal is a local farm and creamery that offers tours and tastings Thursday through Monday in their new shop on Hwy 128. They make a variety of cheeses that are also available at one of my favorite Philo wineries, Navarro Vineyards.) Our delicious cheesy bite was followed by a house made Mendocino County Heritage Pork country pâté with Dijon mustard and shallot chutney – the perfect combination of salty, sweet and spicy.

On to the vegetables. Canuck selected “Celebration of Carrots” and I chose an assortment of seasoned radishes with salt and butter. The radishes were simple yet so satisfying, and it felt good to eat some raw vegetables after an afternoon of beer tasting (be sure to stop in Anderson Valley Brewery on your way into Philo). The carrot plate was indeed a celebration and quite possibly the best vegetable dish I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. The plate is composed of a seven different uses and varieties of carrots: confit tiny Thumbelina and French, pickled rainbow, housemade carrot crackers, fried carrot fronds, carrot top pesto and garlic aioli. I talked about this dish to anyone who would listen for several days. I’m still holding out hope that Canuck will find a way to recreate it…

And as if those were not enough starters, we picked two more to share: smoked local black cod potato salad, and Gulf prawns with garlic lemon aioli and what Janelle and her team affectionately call “fluff,” an array of herbs, flowers and stuff. The cod is local (Princess Seafood out of Fort Bragg) and smoked by Angelo’s in Sonoma. It’s served with heirloom potatoes, confited in olive oil, and fresh shaved Petit Teton horseradish, bloomed mustard seeds, whipped crème fraîche, herbs, watercress… and probably a few other amazing things that I am missing. Not only was it beautifully presented (like all of the evening’s dishes), but the combination of flavors was beautiful to eat.

Last but not least, we each ordered the Lamb Duo (despite the fact that Canuck usually prefers not to order the same thing as his dining partner). It was written on the menu with all of my favorite Spring things so it was impossible to resist. In hindsight, we agreed that it easily could have been shared considering the amount of food we had leading up to our entrées, but we still managed to finish the majority of our dishes. The Lamb Duo was composed of lamb loin and confit cap, sheep’s milk ricotta gnocchi, fresh tarragon, chives, lemon zest, fava beans, asparagus, fava leaf and garlic puree, served with a lamb anise hyssop reduction. I never imagined that all of these things could exist so cohesively on one plate, but it was near perfection.

If you don’t already have enough reasons to visit Anderson Valley – the plethora of unique and inexpensive wineries, fishing along the Redwood lined highway, bountiful farms and orchards, whimsical seaside villages, adorable inns and a brewery in a town with their own made up language – add this dining experience to the list. The Bewildered Pig is truly a destination restaurant, worth every mile traveled, and I intend to make it a regular pilgrimage. In fact, I can’t wait to go back and see what other seasonal items they have on their fantastic menu.

Big thanks to Janelle, Izzy and the entire team for such a memorable evening!