My Little Chickapea

The mother of a friend of mine from my high school days referred to any inclement weather as weatherin’. So, for example, if it was raining or snowing out, it was weatherin’ outside. I am aware that this is strange as there is always a state of atmosphere, always weather at a place, whether it regards heat, cloudiness, dryness, sunshine, wind or rain. But you have to admit: it’s weatherin out really gets the point across.

Love Street

 

I have never liked The Doors. In fact I am lightning fast changing the radio station if I hear so much as one note from Light My Fire or Break on Through. But, ironically, not only do I live in their old neighborhood, and have an original print of Jim & Pam prominently displayed on my wall, and I have also recently decided that Love Street is a very, well, lovely song.

She lives on Love Street. Lingers long on Love Street. She has a house and garden. I would like to see what happens.

What's this? A seahorse-seashell party?

I spent the day by the ocean on Sunday. I live closer to an ocean now than I ever have in the past, yet I probably see it less than ever before. It’s probably because I’d rather not spend that much time in the car, in traffic. Or, perhaps because I know I have no interest in getting into the ocean. Or maybe because I have so few whole days free to meander. 

Finally, Fondue!

Occasionally I get a brain flower and announce these bold statements to anyone who will listen. “I’m going to get a gym membership and work out 3-5 times a week!” or “This is the year I learn how to use jumper cables and change tires!” or “I’m going to watch Werner Herzog’s entire catalogue this month!” or “I’m going to bring back fondue!”

More often than not these things are never realized.

My Little Pony and a Ghettoblaster.

The sky is crying here in the City of Angels. It plans to continue to weep for the remainder of the week. Knowing this in advance, I stocked up on all sorts of fun ingredients at the market so I could stay in as much as possible and give myself loads of neat-o kitchen projects.

It's Hot in the Hot Tub.

I don’t really have much of a sweet tooth but, for some reason, I ended up with an arsenal of chocolate from the holidays. It’s all been sitting in a bowl in my kitchen, staring at me for weeks. It’s really nice chocolate. But on those nights when I’m curled up in my jammies, on the couch, watching movies, I will always go for homemade popcorn over bon bons. Although one night recently I enjoyed a few bites of the white chocolate with pistachios – because of the pistachios

Orange Crush

I have to admit, I have really fallen off the recipe part of this blog lately. The truth is I have been dining out way too much and not cooking nearly enough. I don’t think I’ve even stocked up on food for the house since the massive shoporama prior to my Christmas party, like 3 weeks ago. I have been working a lot. I have also been, well, out a lot. Today was the first day in a long time that I had some quality home time sans distractions. Today was the day to take stock of whatever food soldiers have made it to this point – and were still going strong – in my refrigerator. I hate to waste anything. Other than the fridge fossil fuels, milk, eggs, cheese, butter and my echo, there was only one option to work with. A pound of carrots.

Time to make some soup.

2009: The Year of the Food Truck.

Everyone’s got one. So it seems only appropriate that my best of 2009 list be my top 5 favorite food trucks that hit the streets this year. I sampled 25 different trucks within the last quarter of the year, including those making their debut as the quarter progressed. To be fair I must say that I only ate at each one once. Whether I found the fare to be amazing or amazingly icky, I do feel that a second visit should always be in order. Plans for seconds are on my 2010 list. After a tiny, little diet. And mayhap a dollop of exercise.

This was a more daunting task than I anticipated. I didn’t realize that so many of the trucks would be so wonderful. The biggest challenge was that they are almost all terrific for very different reasons. So, I have set up certain rules for this evaluation keeping these parameters in mind: quality of food, quantity of food, price point, creativity, service, timeliness of food ordering and delivery, the messy factor, and how unobtrusive they were on Twitter. 

Let’s start with number five and climb our way to number one, shall we? 

5. India Jones Chow Truck 

I love Indian food and I eat a lot of it. And I must say that the food here was very, very good. I appreciate that this is ambitious fare to serve from a truck; the menu was reverent, simple and well thought out. It crossed a perfect line with street food and table food, was served cleanly and easy to eat on the go. I dug that the owner was on site, friendly, helpful and served up the food lightning fast and piping hot. And come on, the truck name alone gets big ups. 

4. Border Grill Truck 

I admire the fact that this truck is paying homage to the original taco truck concept in their actual cuisine and manage to give it a bit of a creative and fancified twist. Also, I loooved that they were at the Melrose Trading Post. The menu is concise, the prices are right, and the food is filled with fresh, seasonal ingredients. And, for the most part, it was a fairly tidy affair. And we all know these ladies can cook.

3. Mattie’s Southern Kitchen 

First of all, I love southern food, and Mattie’s gets props for thinking to serve it from a truck. Not only do I think they’ve got it right, but I have been hard pressed to find authentic southern food in too many real restaurants in town. Conjuring memories of mountains of napkins and greasy fingers, you’d think that this would be one of the more difficult types of food to eat on the street. Not the case. The food was portioned generously; enough that I finished my portion for dinner later on that night. Additionally, the food came out at a clip and Chris, the owner, was on site and was quite the southern gentleman. 

2. The Gastrobus 

This was difficult. It was almost a tie. The Gastrobus is fantastic 8 ways to Sunday. They not only support farmers markets but station themselves at the Los Feliz market every week and purchase all of their produce from the growers. As a result their menu and specials change weekly. If I were to have my own truck, this is the food I would make. They are wildly creative yet impeccably simple. The food is ideal to eat on the go with steamy, scrumptious soups, big, beautiful sandwiches and all at very good prices. The people are sweethearts and their bus is extremely cute.  

1. Flying Pig Truck 

What can I say. This truck blew my mind. I would never have thought anything this elaborate and of this caliber would be served to me from the window of a truck. Admittedly, they are the newest on the list and have had time to learn from other’s mistakes, but holy wowsers. They achieved the fusion concept the most successfully, maintained an exceptional degree of creativity, and served up the most beautiful and most delicious food I have yet dined on – from a truck. The prices were surprisingly low, the food is perfectly retrofitted to eat on the go, the chef was on site and the staff was as pleasant as could be.  

I would like to reiterate that I had a heck of a time with this decision and that Lomo Arigato, The Dosa Truck and The Grilled Cheese Truck should not go without – at the very least – an honorable mention. They are all three fabulous and deserve return visits and much success. 

In the past couple of months I have gotten all dolled up and dropped hundreds (upon hundreds) of dollars dining in the newest, fanciest restaurants in Los Angeles. I have eaten the most ornate, decadent foods served up by world-renowned celebrity chefs. But I will tell you this, dear readers, more often than not I would rather stand on the sidewalk, leaning against a wall (or sitting in the grass), in my jeans and sneaks with a posse of strangers eating the likes of anything from tacos to wild mushroom soup with basil oil and even pork belly. I relish discovering these treasures on wheels that could literally pop up anywhere, at anytime. Few things bring people together like food. It's truly exhilarating to feel and revel in the sense of community the food trucks provide in this big, beautiful city of ours. So you can bet I will continue to encourage, support and embrace all of the new trucks continuing to hit the streets in 2010 and beyond. I also hope this movement, this culture, continues to grow and morph and expand to cities all across the globe.

Happy New Year! 

25. The Flying Pig Truck

It started with a bacon-wrapped hot dog from a cart and it ends with tamarind duck from a truck.

Well, dear readers, I have done it. There were moments it seemed daunting and moments it felt like a walk in the park. And so many new trucks have popped up during the span of my mission that I considered adding more to my list. But I stuck to the original plan and, now, here we are. 25 food trucks in 3 months. Done.

I have learned a lot about this new culture throughout the journey. I have made new friends, traveled to parts of town I don’t often visit, and eaten a lot of food. While I am, admittedly, glad it’s over, I will continue to check out – and maybe write about – the new trucks that I am curious about. All at my own pace, of course.

I have been intrigued by the concept of the Flying Pig Truck for a while. They rolled out in early October but have maintained a somewhat low profile in the Twittersphere (which I really appreciate, actually). They also seem to stay downtown or on the West side almost entirely. Until this past Tuesday, that is.

I had come up with a plan, a few weeks ago, to make my 25^th truck one of the original, real deal, taco trucks. It seemed appropriate and reverent. So when I saw the Flying Pig Truck on Miracle Mile I figured I’d check it out but probably not write about it. Until I ate the food – which I will say right now, was spectacular.

The Flying Pig Truck is run by two chefs who recently graduated from the California School of Culinary Arts and the Cordon Bleu program in Pasadena. Flying Pig markets itself as high-end street food with "Asian and Pacific Rim flavors with French technique”. Interestingly, one of the owners, Joe Kim, says that he came up with the idea not just to capitalize on the recent food truck trend, but rather to use the truck as a testing ground for the restaurant he'll be opening up early next year. I, for one, am eagerly anticipate those doors opening.

I arrived at the truck on the later side of lunch time, and got a parking spot directly behind it (you can even see a bit of my trash-heap of a car in the pictures!). There was little to no line and after perusing the beautiful, and synoptic, menu, I was confident of my order. I still asked if there were any specials or recommends, but the perky woman taking my order said I was spot on in my choices. I had the braised pork belly bun served with red onion, escabeche, sesame-cucumber ($3), the tamarind duck taco served with toasted almond and a pickled beet salad ($2.50), and the crab balls served with a cilantro-lime chimichurri ($2). I handed the woman $9 and, rather than fishing around for the 75 cents, she handed me a buck back. That went directly into the tip jar, of course.

There were one or two orders ahead of mine, and it was seeming like it was taking a while. But then I peered in the truck and could see the care being put into “plating”. This eased the wait tremendously. Even when one of the chefs handed me the container of food (Styrofoam. Bummer.) she was wiping off a little smudge of sauce on its exterior. I do love attention to detail.

I ambled on over to a spot in the sunshine, opened the lid, and looked down at some of the most beautifully presented food truck fare I have seen to date. I was seriously dazzled. I began with the one I was the most excited about – the pork belly. I mean, pork belly from a truck?! Hello? Awesome? And this was. The bun was bao-like and subtly sweet, which was a perfect compliment to the belly. The escabeche, and cucumber added the perfect piquancy and brought lightness to the pork. I found it to be an entirely inspired take on the traditional bao.

Next I chomped down on a crab ball. It was very delicately fried and had an ephemeral quality to it. The cilantro-lime chimichurri was the perfect accompaniment. I ate about half of the crab balls before diving into the tamarind duck taco. This, folks, was sublime. The actual duck was cooked perfectly, tender and moist. The complexity and layers of the flavors was like a  festival in my mouth. The marriage of the textures: the mandarin and the toasted almonds, was nothing short of brilliant. I actually tried to eat it as slowly as possible to make it last as long as I could, and made a point to pick up each errant scrap of ingredients to savor all of the elements happening. I even enjoyed sucking the parts stuck in my teeth, afterward. I might add that this food also, very successfully, achieved a true, and innovative, fusion of cuisines.

I then, happily finished up the crab balls and promptly marched back over to the truck to tell the chef that this was, simply, spectacular.

You know when your eating potato chips or peanuts and every once in a while you get that perfectly curled chip, or the yummiest, roastiest peanut, and you know you should stop right there and end the binge with that perfect bite? Well, I knew while I was eating my Asian-French lunch from a truck that this was the way to go out. The fat lady has sung and pigs really can fly.

Fete accompli!

Babe

Here we are. Again. The holidays. We are at the countdown part. My tree is up and decorated, my shopping is pretty much done (in record time this year!), and my annual holiday party is this Friday night. The other thing that happens around now time is the tornado of memories, nostalgia and emotions that get all stirred up in our hearts and minds. Well, at least in mine.

Prior to moving to Los Angeles I returned to Virginia every year for Christmas. And, with the exception of my social life varying greatly from age 3 to age 30, every year was the same thing. On Christmas Eve my dad and I drove to Roanoke to have Christmas Eve dinner with the family, which was served at 6pm sharp at Aunt Babe’s house. With the catching up chatter prior to the meal, grace (where I stared at the carpet), the meal itself, heavily spiked eggnog and dessert, and the goodbyes, Dad & I would still be back at Aunt Connie and Uncle Joe’s house by 8:30pm, which is where we stayed. And it was there on Christmas morning where we exchanged gifts and had the big Christmas brunch with such earthly delights as cheese grits and mimosas. Directly after brunch Dad and I would drive back to Richmond – with a brief stop at Moore’s Country Store for a couple of chili dogs, aka “lip burners”. Once home I spent the remainder of the day and Christmas night with my mom. After dinner I would race out to my favorite bar, Hole in the Wall, to meet all my friends and reminisce and drink until the wee hours.

But Aunt Babe’s Christmas Eve dinner is what I miss the most. I can recall the meal - each and every dish - vividly. Remember the tomato aspic? I also remember almost every year, watching the subtle changes within my family. This is my dad’s side of the family. Almost all of them live in Roanoke and most are pretty conservative, both politically and socially, yet – as with all families – there are all sorts of secrets and intrigue within. But I still always thought of my dad and myself as the black sheep. The rest of the family were also seemingly normal - family types. I was the only child of divorced parents with a dad that often had a different woman in tow for the holiday celebration. And of course there were the various hair colors and piercing phases I went through. Oy.

One tradition in our family is that the kids no longer receive gifts from the extended family after graduating from high school. But as a child I remember the year I got the game Mousetrap (so cool!). I remember my cousin Noel giving me 1 beautiful Christmas ornament each year (which all currently adorn my tree). I remember a matching turquoise sweat suit with embroidered deer on it from Aunt Babe, which I believe she made. I even think I wore it. Oy.

Aunt Babe is currently the matriarch of the family and has been as such for as long as I’ve been alive. She is the sister of my dad’s mom, Janie, who passed right before I was born. She is called Babe because she was the youngest of the siblings. She is truly special. She is so gentle, kind, diplomatic, and loves her family. I stayed with her a couple of times for a few days here and there during summer breaks as a kid. One day she taught me all about our family tree. I learned that we have a Civil War hero, Francis Marion (“The Swamp Fox”), in our history. Aunt Babe has the softest, most delicate skin. I love her hands. She always smells so fresh and baby powdery. Man, I just adore her. I flew home for her 90^th birthday a few years ago and was so happy to see her again. It’s funny, she looks exactly the same to me now as she did from my earliest memories of her.

That's Babe on the left. What a babe! And that's Janie in the center. Such beauty.

Sadly, a couple of years after moving to LA and starting my business, I found it impossible to return home for the holidays. While it certainly does dishearten me, I have learned to find family and community in my friends and my own, new traditions. But I miss Aunt Babe and all of my Roanoke family more than words can express.

Well, I just got off the phone with Aunt Babe to find out exactly what is involved in her Christmas Eve mashed potato dish. I was going to email her for the recipe, but she doesn’t own a computer. And I’m so glad. Because it warmed my heart to hear her voice and to have her beautiful southern accent share the wonderful recipe with me. It also made me long for her soothing presence, the familiar smell of her home, and her infinite patience and wisdom. Needless to say, directly after speaking with her, I immediately called my dad and PROMISED I’d come home next year, even if for just 36 hours.

Aunt Babe and yours truly at her 90th Birthday.

I know mashed potatoes are the simplest dish in the world to make, but hear me out folks. You have likely never tasted any potato dish even remotely as decadent, rich, supple and delectable as this. I have tried to make it in the past on taste memory and have come pretty close. I knew enough to not fear the butter. Rather, one must entirely embrace the butter. Even that version of it made Dixon squirm and adapt his own Aunt Babe potato strategy. But now I finally have it, the real deal, and you can bet your mistletoe kisses that I’ll be preparing it, with my family in my heart, this Christmas Eve.

Merry Christmas, y'all!  

Aunt Babe’s Mashed Potatoes

Serves 6-8

INGREDIENTS

6 Russet potatoes

1 3/4 sticks butter

½ cup canned, evaporated milk – diluted

salt and pepper to taste

DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 400

Bake potatoes for an hour to an hour and a half, or until easily pierced with a fork. Scoop out all of the insides and toss skins (or do something else creative with them).

Lower oven temperature to 350

In a mixing bowl add potato insides, 1 and ½ sticks of butter, salt & pepper. With a hand mixer, slowly add diluted milk while keeping an eye on maintaining the moisture. Aunt Babe said that the secret is the moisture.

Put mixture into a casserole dish and add “dabs” of remaining butter along the top. Bake until you see “little peaks of brown on top”, about 15-20 minutes, and serve.