H 2 Oh!!

Go ahead, Cleveland.  Drink your 8 glasses of water.  Pitch those trashy plastic bottles and take your own container with you.  Refill it from any old tap you like. Just tune out when someone wants to propagandize you about expensive filters. Why?  Because your local tap water is ranked among the best.

Today I toured the Baldwin Filtration Water Treatment Plant and got something of an education.  I learned that:

-Our water comes from a spot in the middle of Lake Erie, many miles offshore, free from shoreline pollution and much of the suspended sediment subject to the turbidity of shallower spots.

-The Cleveland Division of Water has partnered with the Environmental Protection Agency to instill the highest standards months or years before the rest of the nation is required to follow suit.

-Our local water, even before filtration, is more pure than most well water, and even some spring water.

-Your local filtration plant is clean, modernized with the latest equipment, filled with precautionary systems and fail-safes, carefully secured against tampering, and hyper-hygienic.

-Your local water undergoes 400 laboratory tests per month for quality and safety.

-Your local water frequently exceeds federal standards by up to 100%...in fact; this has earned Cleveland Water awards of excellence.

-The Division of Water is adamant about protecting and conserving the Lake Erie watershed.

Friends who have moved away and returned to visit have muttered enviously about how their Cleveland pals have held onto their youthful looks, health, and energy better than those who have moved away.  They surmise aloud that "it must be in the water."  Well, it may well be!  If you are fortunate enough to live in Cleveland or have a visit here, do drink a (tap water) toast to your good health and good fortune!

Renovating Towards Obesity

Did anyone else see this thought-provoking opinion piece on the last page of the Plain Dealer's "Forum" section?  It's also in the NY Times, for all of you Sunday New York Times readers.  I highly encourage you to peruse Dr. Neil Izenberg's compelling theory that our home makeovers promoting open-concept kitchens may contribute to the fact that most of our waistlines also need a makeover.  You can (and should!) read it here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/24/opinion/sunday/is-your-kitchen-a-health-hazard.html?_r=0

So many of us, even those with enviably comfortable homes, grew up with kitchens that were, at best, barely utilitarian...at worst, a visual cacophony of harvest gold and avocado appliances.  These kitchens were likely a room all to themselves. If you wanted more elegant dining, you had to move to the dining room.  If you wanted comfortable entertainment, you had to head towards the TV room.  If you wanted to impress your guests, you were probably going to hold court in the living room.  Because the kitchen was for cooking and that was about it.  Maybe, if there was room enough for a little table, you'd eat casual family meals in there.  But the kitchen was definitely not much of a showplace.

Then somewhere in the annuls of interior design, the kitchen became the most important room in the world.  Suddenly, regular people, even non-decorator types, knew what "Corian" was, the different type of statement made by Rutt versus Poggenpohl, and how it was imperative to have a proper "work triangle."  Additionally, regular people decided they quite liked the idea of downsizing their living and dining rooms in favor of a gorgeous, decorator kitchen (nearly a football field in length), complete with fully upholstered chairs, gas-fed fireplaces, enough barstools to seat the cast of Cheers, and a giant flat-screen TV.  The awe-inspiring kitchen became a prerequisite for anyone buying a home.  And regardless of whether or not the homeowner was much into cooking, the kitchen became the place to be.  All the time.

Could hanging out in our awesome kitchens all the time be the reason why America could stand to lose a few?  Izenberg suggests that it's altogether possible.

And of course we all know some impossibly thin person with the biggest, best-est kitchen in which they do everything except sleep, but still I feel really drawn to explore this theory.

I remember that when I bought my second home, which had the ugliest little fire-engine red galley kitchen, I was overjoyed at the pantry---a converted ironing board closet with a laughable dearth of shelf space.  I exclaimed right in front of the realtor who was clearly worried that this eyesore of a room was going to keep the house on the market for months:  "This is the BEST kitchen. We can't get fat!  There's no room for a bag of chips in here!" 

Izenberg also talks about how parents used to declare the kitchen "closed" after dinner.  After the pots were scrubbed or the dishwasher was loaded, no one was allowed to dirty more dishes. And no one did. There was no hanging out and nibbling all night long.  I think that's a terrific and simple concept we lost along the way.  And while I freely admit that I just love that communal feeling when, after a long party, the guests seat themselves at the kitchen island and continue to chat and share,  all the while picking at whatever is left of the smorgasbord that was earlier served on the counter-top, I think I could drop a dress size if I didn't attend parties (and nibble on leftovers) like that.

Maybe it's time we downsize in more ways than one.

Food as Medicine

Forgive my radio silence. This dervish...she has been a-whirling.  Details at some future time. 

Tonight, my mind is on my father, who will undergo a surgery later this week.  Of course, at his age it makes me anxious, but I have many reasons to stay positive, and so I will.

I am also heartened by his strict orders that I am to carry out this week:
When he awakes in the recovery room, I am to greet him with a Ben and Jerry's milkshake I have smuggled past the nurses' desk.  I know that the promise of a stiff cup of coffee helps me out of bed most mornings so I am quite sure that indulging in a creamy milkshake will help him back on his feet.

Godspeed, Ben, Jerry, and Bill.

xoxo

GF Bread

While eating gluten-free seems to have become popular lately since gluten-free (GF) carbohydrates do not seem to contribute to a feeling of post-meal bloat as significantly as glutenous carbs, there are many individuals who become dangerously uncomfortable and ill from gluten.  Celiac disease, leaky gut syndrome, and real allergy to certain grains may exist among your friends and/or loved ones.  And chances are they might like to walk through this world feeling like they can partake in the same things as "everyone else", which sometimes means having a piece of bread.

In my professional experience, I have found GF baking to be challenging.  Gluten is the magic something that holds your dough together,  allows it to form a thin and flaky crust, or a familiar-looking loaf shape that rises up and creates those enviable little air pockets that keep baked items from being horribly dense.  I think other cooks find GF baking daunting, too, which is probably why there is a dearth of GF baked goods on the commercial market, despite the real (and necessary) demand that exists.

I woke this morning to an email from the Culinary Institute of America featuring a recipe for GF Bread.  I have not yet tested this recipe, but if anyone's recipe is going to be reliably successful and tasty, it is the CIA's.  Certainly, there are more ingredients and steps than you'll find in a glutenous bread recipe (that is, water, salt, yeast, and flour), but the effort may be well worth it and this might really be a welcome treat for the GF person in your life who can't remember the last time they had a decent piece of bread that didn't make them ill.

Here is the link...hope it helps someone out there.

http://www.ciaculinaryintelligence.com/2013/01/gluten-free-lean-bread.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+CulinaryIntelligenceFromTheCIA+%28Culinary+Intelligence+from+the+CIA%29

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday

No, this post is not about that all-American place that serves up greasy burgers.  Nor is it about an old Rolling Stones song.  It's about a very good man who happened to have a lot of nicknames, "Ruby Tuesday" among them.

I got a call today, or more specifically a text, from a friend who also happened to be my boss during one long and incredible chapter of my restaurant life.  He told me that another friend, and former co-worker, our man "Ruby Tuesday", had passed away today.  It was a kick in the gut.  A punch square in the nose.  A slap right across the face.  I knew he had a long-term health concern but he was still just in his thirties.

Chris was "Ruby Tuesday's" real name.  I liked and respected Chris. Chris was highly intelligent, highly intuitive, had a wonderful dry wit, and had impeccable taste in everything.  He worked as a server at that time.  He was also a student in a rigorous pre-professional program.  As for me, I split my working hours between days in the kitchen and weekend nights at the hostess stand, which is where I got to know him the best.  I'd get him tables when his section was empty.  I'd send someone to bus his section when it was a wreck of dirty dishes.  He'd run a message to the manager for me.  Or give me a 20-second serenade along with Sinatra on the muzak system.  Chris became a good pal.  He'd help me out when he didn't have to.  He'd tell me funny stories with a deadpan straight face.  He'd share his thoughts about writers whose work he appreciated.  He'd tell me about a great band he thought I'd enjoy, too.  And I was always tickled that while the other servers were running to the lockers to check their cell phones, Chris would run to his books to see if he could get a couple more pages into his studies.  He completed thoughts eloquently and was truly one of those "soul of a poet" types.  Chris and I also learned we had many friends in common, and we would sometimes cross paths socially, but I can't claim to have been especially close to him outside of work.

And yet, the loss of Chris hits me hard.

Why?

Well, I'm a little too tired tonight to check my references, but I seem to remember Anthony Bourdain comparing restaurant service to war, and restaurant co-workers to brothers-in-arms.  Bourdain, or whomever said it first, is absolutely right.  Restaurant work, like war, can be excruciatingly boring (as in, waiting for someone to come in) or white-knuckle harrowing (as in, 11:00 am, Mothers' Day when every table was accidentally double-booked).  The people you work with are in it with you.  They help you pass the time when it's boring.  They don't leave you behind when it's harrowing.  You might not have a whole lot else in common with them, but you have this--- these awful moments of chaos you must all survive in order to eek out a living.  You know how rough it is, so you help your co-workers.  Whether or not you think of yourself as a team player, you are forced to become one in a restaurant.

Chris was on my team.  Plus, after a while, you just know if someone is true-blue or a clever B.S-er.  Chris was true-blue.

Ladies and Gentleman, now is your chance:  Please PLEASE tip your servers generously.  They could be the hostess's right-hand man.  They could be a true-blue guy.  They could be slogging it out for their degree by day.  They could have the soul of a poet.  They could be someone's brother-in-arms.  They could be someone's brother.  They are probably someone's friend.  They are certainly someone's child.  They are certainly ephemeral.

Yes, they certainly are.

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday.

Natural Popcorn...I Almost Forgot!

Do you think that kids today, or even 20-somethings know how to make popcorn without a microwave?  I sort of have a feeling that they don't.  It seems like microwave popcorn has become so ubiquitous that it's the only way to make it at home.

A couple of months ago, I was plowing through some articles on these hair-raising lung diseases contracted by workers who produce/package microwave popcorn.  It seems that diacetyl, the FDA-approved  compound used to enhance the buttery flavor is not meant to be breathed in...not even a little bit.  Add to this the fact that components of the popcorn bags can degrade in the heat of the microwave, releasing potential carcinogens into your snack.  When I finished these articles, I announced to mi esposo that I would never bring the stuff home again. He looked a little sad.

Fortunately, a fund-raising little boy scout rang my doorbell the very next day.  He was selling popcorn to earn money for his troop.  And whaddya know...the kid had some straight, natural, non-microwave-variety kernels for sale!  I ordered what may be a lifetime supply of popcorn.  It was delivered yesterday.

I hadn't made popcorn on the stove for a long time...although I used to make it daily in my college years:  my roommate sophomore year had me half-talked into her bizarre diet that involved not much more than a steady supply of popcorn, avocados, and black coffee.  So we made popcorn every day (If you are thinking of trying this diet, don't.  The roomie and I did look great that year, but I'm now positive that it had more to do with the fact that we were 19 years old and less to do with our cockamamie food regimen).

Making popcorn the old school way is not difficult.  It's just as easy as the microwave, really.  Here's how:

1.  Take a deep pot with a lid.
2.  Add a couple tablespoons of oil (or not...you don't have to if you are in the anti-fat camp)
3.  Add approximately 1/3 cup of popcorn kernals
4.  Put it onto a stovetop burner on high and listen...
5.  As soon as you hear a pop, get over to that pan and shake it.
5.  Periodically shake that pan, lifting it off the heat if need be (shaking keeps it from sticking and burning and also releases steam so your snack doesn't get all soggy
6.  When the popping slows down to almost nil, get it off the heat--it's done.
7.  Season it to taste.

Those seven arduous steps will take you a whopping five minutes.  You can clean that pot in about the same amount of time it would take you to throw away that greasy microwave bag.  What's better, even if you use oil to pop, it's only about 60 calories per serving.  Not to mention the fact that there is a whole lot less potential for contracting a chemical-based disease from your snack.  Finally, it's CHEAP.  (Hey, I'm part thrifty Scot!)  For 5 bucks, I probably got 5x the amount of popcorn I would. have received if I spent that 5 bucks on a microwavable product...and I don't have an armload of plastic-wrapped bags to add to a landfill.

WOW!  That was an easy better choice to make.  You should try it, too!

Sleep and Wellness, on the Eve of a Restless Holiday Season ("Let Go, or Be Dragged")

My freshman year of college was overwhelming.  I wanted it all, both academically and socially.  I wanted to get good grades, attend special lectures, as well as to be seen at every party and to hear every band that toured through town.

And so I did.

But, when you are poring over textbooks at the library until close to midnight, then rushing off to some all-night party,  then digging deep to find the discipline to be front row and center for the 8am classroom lecture, you have to sacrifice something.  Which, in my case, was sleep.  I sacrificed it nght after night after night for an entire year.  While I achieved the goals of having both a good report card and a festive social life, I only slept 3-4 hours a night consistently throughout my freshman year.

Although the bizarre heart palpitations I was feeling in the spring should have told me that my regimen was less than healthy, that didn't really convince me.  It was my face.  On spring break, I was riding in my mother's car and pulled down the mirrored visor to see if my hair needed a comb.  In the bright midday sunlight, I saw the reflection of my face, which looked like it had aged 10 years over the last three school quarters.  Vanity prevailed, and I started skipping a few parties in favor of some shut eye. 

So now, many years later, I am beginning to think that quality sleep is just as important (if not slightly more so!) than good nutrition in maintaining optimum health.  Honestly now,  if too few zzz's were wreaking that much havoc with the cells supporting my appearance, what was it doing to the cells supporting everything else???

I've spent most of this morning reading statistical data about cancer rates.  I'm sure that folks far more qualified than I have analyzed the same data with a more experienced eye.  They likely make a profession, and not just a morning, out of studying these statistics.  But in my unqualified opinion, the nations that seem to have the highest cancer rates tend to be nations of what I would call "do-ers"--folks who work hard, keep at their tasks, make time for extracurricular activities, and prioritize socialization and relationships. Do-ers do a lot, so would it be such a far stretch to imagine that they are so busy doing that they have to sacrifice some sleep?

There is no real science behind my hypothesis, so please take it for what it's worth.  But I think it's a hypothesis that could garner substantiating support, if someone continued to focus on the factor of sleep.  Serving to bolster my personal opinion is data that suggests that marathon runners tend to have a higher cancer rate.  Maybe the tax that 26.2 miles puts on the body requires a rest and repair time beyond the standard 8-ish hours that a lot of us get...?  But who has time for more than 8 hours?  (Many of us don't even have time even for that much sleep!)  An Israeli study indicates that women who do not get quality nighttime rest may have a higher incidence of breast cancer.  And I think about the too-many folks I have known who have gotten a frightening diagnosis---there is no real common thread among them (some are male, some are female, some are vegetarian, some are ominivore, etc.) except not a single one of them could ever be accused of being a slothful layabout.  They are all do-ers.  And maybe it seems like cancer and disease rates are on the rise because we have inadequate time to rest...the world we live in forces us into a mode of constant doing.  For example, most of us have to work really long and/or hard hours at stressful jobs to make ends meet.  Add to that the admonishment that we must move more to stay fit...so, dead-tired, we drag ourselves to the gym.  We have kids that have to be carted hither and yon for extracurricular obligations, adding hours and hours of high-stress commuting to our weeks.  And we get sucked in to the late-night adventure flick when we only meant to turn on the tube to unwind for a half hour before bed, ending up with yet another night of too-few hours of sleep.  It seems like we never get a chance to complete a full, resting repair cycle before we are up and at 'em again.

I say this to you even as I am about to embark on an overloaded couple of weeks.  You can probably imagine that the holiday season in the cooking business is a busy one.  I am nervous about the constant buzz of stress I know I will be feeling and I am nervous that I will run out of hours in the day to take care of very basic things I need to do for myself and those closest to me.  I am especially nervous about the inadequate sleep I will be getting throughout the holiday season and how that might have a long-term ripple effect on my overall health.

All I can do, I suppose, in the coming quiet of the early days in the New Year, is to try to shed stuff---obligations and expenses that must be fed by constant activity and income-generating maneuvers.  I'm sure my resolution will be something to the effect of "try to do more with less," or  "do less and sleep more," or the really great one I just heard the other day:  "let go, or be dragged."    Yep.   I'll be giving some things up, just as I had to give up some wonderful parties so many years ago.  I'm aware that I just can't have it all and have my rest.  But the sacrifice will be for the invaluable hope of standing strong, healthy, and disease-free for another glorious trip around the sun.

The Potable Remedy

I attended a casual lecture this evening featuring Warren Bobrow--journalist, chef, and mixologist.  Mixologist is fancy-speak for "capable, knowledgeable bartender".  Now, I happen to know absolutely nothing about the art of mixed drinks, but I do know that some folks like Mr. Bobrow put a lot of thought and energy into creating powerful flavor combinations to enhance their adult beverages.  So, I set out to see if I could learn something about the flavor profiles of adult beverages.

Curiously, though, what I took away from this most interesting speaking engagement was less about flavor and more about the medicinal history of spirits.  The cocktail, you see, was born in the apothecary's laboratory not as a social lubricant, but as a healing elixir or "preparation", as spirits were once called.  A swallow of bitters might be prescribed for an unsettled stomach.  Absinthe or wormwood might cure you of worms.  Of course, bitters and wormwood tasted awful, so the apothecary might mix your "cure" with something a little more palatable to assist you in drinking your health.  I cannot help but think of Mary Poppins chirping away, reminding the children that "a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down".  And there is your cocktail.  Even the etymology of the word "cocktail" has a medicinal link---some folks used to believe that a sore throat could be cured by swiping the neck with the tail feathers of a rooster, i.e. the cock-tail.

Bobrow talked of how the navy used to feed the sailors rum on a daily basis as a mollifying agent in order to avoid flared tempers and fisticuffs among the men cramped on the ships in confined quarters.  He told tales of vodka being mere molecules away from horse liniment.   He swore that a dose of the Italian digestif Fernet Branca was a veritable cure for overindulgence at the feasting table.  As he mentioned those things, I remembered a wine distributor I once knew who always recommended hot wine as a cold remedy.  While I laughed at his "Italian Nyquil" I must confess that I tried his remedy a few times over the years and found it a reasonable stand-in for drugstore stuff.  I recall my grandfather taking a thimbleful of bourbon with his breakfast...he called it "his medicine", though I'm not sure why he took it.  He was a strong man and lived a long life.  (Curiously, he almost never touched a drop of the stuff for the rest of the day.)  And of course, there have been multiple action flicks where the stabbed hero wards off staphylococcus by dousing his open wound in straight whiskey.  So there must be something to the shamanism of the cocktail.

I feel pretty fortunate that I wake up feeling strong and healthy enough to not require any medication, or even a cocktail, to bolster my health.  But it IS interesting.  I'd love to hear about the "remedies" from behind the bar that you've heard about or even tried yourself....

Thanksgiving: NOT about the food

For folks who seldom undertake cooking a feast, Thanksgiving can be a daunting holiday.  There are hundreds of ways to cook a turkey and every expert swears their method is the best.  There are lots of traditional or non-traditional recipes to learn.  There is timing to consider ("Will the green beans still be hot after we carve the turkey??!")  There is often a forgotten ingredient ("Will somebody please run out to the convenience store...NOW?!")

I cook every day for a living.  I love feasts.  I fall into a state of rapture when I taste something really special.  But it behooves me to tell you to relax... because most of the food details just don't matter.

Yes, I think my mother must sprinkle fairy dust on her green bean casserole, it's so good.  Yes, my friend Susie has elevated stuffing to a high art.  Yes, my sister's desserts are worth every calorie.  Yes, I'll probably make room for seconds on mashed potatoes and gravy.  But really, I only know those things in the most obtuse way.  What I really remember about my many Thanksgivings are not the food items on the table, but rather the company around me:

-I remember the last year we all had Thanksgiving at my grandparent's house, and how we kids all sang songs from the radio while we washed dishes.
-I remember the year we invited an eccentric old widow to our table and how she was like a machine gun of hilarity with her outlandish quips.
-I remember the year that my REAL "thanksgiving" was for a mechanically-inclined spouse.  Mi esposo was a hero, fixing the garbage disposal after I jammed it up with parsnip and carrot peelings, mere moments before the guests arrived.
-I remember the year all of my friends and I reclined in a cold, under-heated apartment in our thick wool sweaters and were warmed by the crazy stories of our various misadventures.
-I remember dressing up pretty to make the meal at my grandmother's nursing home feel special for her.
-I remember, while traveling, people of another culture went to great effort to create a special night for the Americans in their midst who were missing a special holiday back home.

I don't remember which year the turkey was the best.  I don't remember which year(s) I overate.  I don't remember which year someone sprang for an amazing wine.  I don't remember if the potatoes were too brown, or if the white meat was too dry, or if the gravy was lumpy.  Really, I have no recollection of the food details...and I am a chef who generally cares deeply about the food details!!

I do care about food, but counter-intuitively, not as much on Thanksgiving.  On Thanksgiving it's about the people and the fact that we are lucky enough to be here together.  So please don't sweat the dinner.  Just enjoy your guests.

A Basic (and Basically Delicious) Thanksgiving Turkey Recipe

Although I worked in the kitchen at a catering company, I was a young and inexperienced cook the first time I ever roasted a turkey.  It was not even Thanksgiving, but I felt I really needed to learn how to cook a whole bird.  I was a vegetarian at that time, so I never had the occasion to cook meat or poultry at home.  I was a whiz with sauteed chicken breasts, since it appeared so often on our work menus, but every other type of meat or poultry was foreign and intimidating to me.  So I bought a small bird, turned the oven on, and went for it.  I fed my roasted turkey to a friend and when he approved, I told myself I now knew how to make a Thanksgiving turkey.

That is, until the rest of the world tried to knock me off-balance.  Simply turning on the oven and sticking a turkey in there was no longer good enough.  You had to have an oven bag.  Or you had to truss the bird.  Or you had to buy a giant deep fryer.  Or you had to soak it in brine for 3 days.  Or you had to drape the turkey in a shroud of cheesecloth.  Or you had to monkey with the temperature on the oven every fifteen minutes.

I bought into the mindset that someone else's methods MUST be superior to my own, so I tried a lot of them.  I've trussed, I've stuffed, and I've spatchcocked (partially de-boned the turkey before cooking).  I've used high heat and I've used low heat.  I've used fresh, organic birds and I've used mass-marketed frozen brands.

Most of those methods work just fine and produce a good turkey dinner, but sometimes these new ways of doing things are a real pain in the neck.  Because really, all that most people want is just a traditional turkey that is moist on the inside with a crispy skin on the outside.

So, I'll give you a recipe I've used and return to often... when I'm not experimenting with some dippy new method.  In this recipe, you are asked to baste the turkey every half hour, which does take some attention, but presumably you are going to be in or near to the kitchen anyway.  This extra step of basting is worth it in terms of moistness, flavor, and nicely-textured skin.  I'll make some notes that I think are helpful before I get into the heart of the matter.



BASIC THANKSGIVING TURKEY

Notes:
-I like a 10-14 pound turkey of the frozen variety.  Why frozen?  Why not fresh, local, and organic?  Because I know that even if an indecisive shopper before me traipsed around the store with the bird in her cart for 45 minutes before deciding she wants to serve ham this year and put it back in the meat department, it will still be safe and won't make anyone ill.  That warm 45-minute cart ride is more dangerous for a fresh bird...that kind of fresh and organic can give you dysentery.  Plus, I have had fresh birds that were downright gamey and unpleasant.  Make sure you thaw your bird for 3-4 days in the refrigerator.  A partially frozen bird will take forever to cook and will brown unevenly.
-Don't put your bread-based stuffing your into your raw bird and leave it while it cooks.  That's another food safety issue.  If you must stuff, do it in the last half hour of cooking.  Stuffing served on the side is just as delicious and a whole lot less risky.
-Use a sturdy roasting pan with 3-4" high sides.  You can use higher sides, but I like the hot air in the oven to circulate around my turkey.  You can use lower sides, but you'll have to cut down the amount of stock and you may have a slightly drier bird.  I like a pan with a rack, to make it easy to hoist it onto a carving platter, but that's totally optional.  Avoid those aluminum roasting pans.  They are so light and bendable, the weight of your turkey and fixings may just torque out of your oven mitts and onto the kitchen floor (your dog will love you, though).
-You can baste with an old-fashioned bulb baster (those gigantic eyedropper thingies), a big barbeque brush, or a giant spoon or small ladle.  Any one of those tools will get the job done nicely.
-I don't recommend starting your bird at an ultra-high temperature as many pros do...I think it makes the skin do wonky and uneven things.  Steady, medium heat gets the job done nicely.
-If your bird did not come with a pop-up thermometer, a meat thermometer is a very smart investment.  You want your poultry at 165-170 degrees.  Pink white meat is a real bummer. 

-1 turkey 10-14 pounds, fully thawed
-1/2 an apple, seeds removed
-1/2 an onion
-1 stick of butter, cut in half and well-softened
-salt and pepper
-4-6 cups of turkey stock (good chicken broth is fine, too---this is 1 to 1 1/2 boxes of stock)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  

Stick the apple and onion into the cavity of the bird.  You won't eat these, but they help keep the bird moist and flavorful. (You could also add some fresh herbs to the cavity like tarragon or sage, but this is optional)

Smear half a stick of butter all over the outside of the bird.  Season liberally with salt and pepper

Place bird in roasting pan and pour stock all around the outside. Crumble up the remaining butter and add the butter pieces to the stock.

Roast for approximately 4 hours, basting every 30 minutes or so.  If the turkey starts getting too dark (like you are worried the skin is going to burn), just loosely drape some foil over the top.  Remember ..."done" is 165-170 degrees

Happy Thanksgiving!
 .

" 'appy cooking! "

Today, I had the privilege to meet a great influence on my cooking life...Monsieur Jacques Pepin.  Through his no-nonsense books and public television shows I learned as much (if not more!) than any course or working experience was ever able to teach me.  I regularly reach for his 1976 classic book La Technique, as a reference.   Pepin's style in the kitchen is relaxed and accessible, and so is his divine cookery.  If you are interested in cooking, I suggest you get yourself to youtube or call your local PBS affiliate and watch every episode of his PBS series "More Fast Food..MY Way."   Monsieur Pepin also advised me that one of his recent pulications, The Essential Pepin is outfitted with a very informative DVD.  If you have ever fantasized, even for a moment, about learning to cook by working in a restaurant, please be advised that the only "learning" that will take place is by you paying hyper-close attention,  making sure you are never tired or lazy, and surviving the wrath of a stressed-out chef or kitchen manager.  Knowing this information about restaurant learning should assure you that having a DVD that walks you step-by-step through specific cooking techniques is almost as valuable as dropping 30K at a culinary school.  I am going to make sure I own it, posthaste.  My enthusiasm for cooking, though never really waning, just got a humongous shot in the arm and sent it clear up to the moon. 

As Monsieur Pepin would say on TV..." 'appy cooking! "

Be a Better Foodie...Don't Eat!

I have been experimenting with intermittent modified fasting.  That is, every few days, I severely restrict the amount of solid food I take in and opt for fresh water and/or some nutritious beverage to stave off hunger pangs.  In my case, the nutritious beverage has been straight buttermilk.

Sounds awful, doesn't it?  Oh, but it's not...read on, if you please.

My goal was two-pronged when I started this bizzaro regimen.  First off, the house had been filled with Halloween candy for too long, trick-or-treating night having been delayed by Hurricane Sandy.  I had been dipping into the candy almost daily, and some days my "dip" was more like the mad grab of a glutton.  I felt a little gross, and I was sure the dryer was set too hot, since all of my jeans seemed to be a little bit tighter.  Secondly, I recognized that I was suffering from the shamefully privileged phenomenon known as "palate fatigue."  This phenomenon is basically burnout for cooks:  surrounded by good food daily, I was losing my ability to appreciate it or sense the subtle nuances of flavor.  I could go to one of those restaurants that boasted dishes costing about as much as a day's wages and think, "meh."  At first, I thought it was my competitive streak playing sour grapes, but I soon realized that no...I just wasn't getting the same flavor appreciation anymore.  That made me feel as gross as the tight jeans.

Maybe I needed a real break from food to re-develop some respect ("get thee behind me, Halloween fun-sizers!") and appreciation for it.

So I bought a half-gallon of buttermilk and laid off the good stuff for a day.  And let me tell you, it was holy hell the first day.  I had to drink of my sour elixir every two hours to keep from going crazy from my grumbling tum-tum.  But I made it through the day.  The next day, as predicted---the fresh fruit I chose for breakfast tasted like it had been picked by the hand of God. The palate fatigue was already on the way to being banished for good.  And I felt clean on the inside...not overstuffed with a mountain of cheap treats.  Finally, my energy level was tip-top.

Before you fill the comment section up with lectures on nutrition, basal metabolic set points, and yo-yo diets, I'd like to ask you to read on.  Believe it or not, I happen to have studied nutrition more than the average person off of the street and I understand how and when an unusual idea can morph into a horrible one.

This particular idea, is not horrible.  Intermittent fasting is just that...intermittent.  It is completely different than self-starvation.  And the irregular intervals and return to a normal caloric level in the meantime prevents your body from forcing itself into a starkly low new set point for energy needs.  You've heard of that---a dieter works at it for too long and when they return to real-life eating they gain it all back in four days because they have trained their metabolism to only accept a very low calorie level.   With intermittent fasting, you roll yourself back up to a more normal intake.

And the idea is also not horrible considering the culture in which we live.  While we grouse about the economy, we Americans have it so good.  ONLY here can we say such obnoxious things like, "Life is too short to drink cheap wine," or "I only drink 'brand x' coffee...I cannot stand that grocery store garbage."  We also put ourselves on expensive health regimens.  We need that 300.00 blender to properly make a smoothie.  We need to shop at the expensive place for our special ingredients.  We need to buy this absurdly priced chemically-manufactured protein substitute since we've gone hardcore vegan.  I cannot disagree passionately enough.  All we need is some simple, natural ingredients, readily available almost anywhere in our land of prosperity... and a desire to thrive. 

In that way, intermittent fasting can make a gentle correction to our attitudes of crass consumerism.  Mystics of every religion will wax philosophical about the spiritual benefits of fasting, and I  usually glaze over at such testimonies, but fasting does distribute a healthy dose of humility.  You wake up on a non-fasting day and you think, "Gosh.  I only need what I need and it turns out I don't need as much as I thought I did."  It opens up huge opportunities for both conserving and sharing the resources we are lucky enough to enjoy.

Still think I'm wacko for this new regimen?  Then check out these links:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-2183677/Why-starvation-diet-actually-good--make-live-longer.html

 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/lifestyle/9480451/The-52-diet-can-it-help-you-lose-weight-and-live-longer.html

Finally, everything else notwithstanding, the dryer has stopped shrinking my jeans and the scale is down 6 points.

Bon Appetit (or not!)

A Clevelander's Guide to the Grocery Store

The major thrust of my professional cooking falls into the genre that most people would call "healthy".  Although the specific details of their regimens do vary, everyone I cook for has the goal of being well and strong, and they all pay close attention to their nutritional choices to make sure they feel they are always working towards the goal of good health.  That being said, many people automatically assume that I have some strong opinions on which grocery store or chain best supports the goal of good health.  I tell clients that I will honor their consumer preferences but if you press me to find out what I really think...the big surprise is that I think all of my vendors are about equal!  There are great choices and not-so-great choices in every store:  I find great products in the rinky-dink mom-and-pop shops and poor choices in the places that proclaim they are the champions of good health.   Furthermore, even though some stores have a reputation of being expensive and some have a reputation of being cheap, I have to tell you I've patronized them all and most of the time my total bill only varies about 10% no matter where I shop...every store marks some items down, but then marks others up.  It's called "loss leader" marketing.   http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loss_leader

So, if you can get "healthy" products anywhere, and if it's really that hard to manipulate the bottom line of your grocery budget based on perception, then where in the heck should you shop?  The short answer is:  wherever you want to.  I do admit that some stores seem to do especially well in certain categories.  I am willing to share my opinion and will do so here, with the reminder that opinions are like elbows (sic)...and everybody has one:

-HEINEN'S:  Heinen's built their reputation on meat and their meat department is great.  Even the stuff that is not wearing a certified organic or humanely-handled sticker is still up to very impressive standards...after all, the Heinen family (who still runs the chain of stores), knows they built their reputation on fine meats and is not willing to let that slide.  They have adequate organic selections, health foods, gluten-free items, and their local produce really IS local!  (Some chains call items "local" that were trucked from 3 states away!)
-WHOLE FOODS:  Their produce display is usually impressive, their cheeses are always nice, and they are one of the few places that still has a bulk section...sometimes you only need 1/4 cup of an ingredient and WF will let you buy it that way!  They also sell great coffee.
-THE FRESH MARKET:  The Fresh Market posts the latest Wine Spectator ratings (if available) on the wines they sell.  This is immensely helpful if you are like me and appreciate good wine, but do not keep up with it as a hobby, so you need a little extra help avoiding trumped-up vinegar.  They also provide an east-side alternative to Whole Foods for those who like to focus on organic selections.
-DAVE'S MARKETS:  Dave's is the dark horse of Cleveland grocery stores---some folks want to dismiss them, but they are undeniably strong in a number of categories.  Firstly, I think their fish is great.  Some outposts do not carry the fancier catches, but their selection is always fresh, beautiful, and well-priced.  I also find their bakery to be very good, both savory breads and sweet treats are top-notch.  Finally, if you are looking for ethnic specialties, Dave's is your best bet.
-GIANT EAGLE:  If you want a lot of selection and extended hours during which to consider that selection, Giant Eagle has both.  Also, when you just can't get around to doing your own cooking, I have to admit that their prepared foods are quite tasty and professionally done.
-FARMER'S MARKETS, PRIVATE VENDORS, & SPECIALTY SHOPS:  Here is where you really can find special items.  However, it is always on a catch-as-catch-can basis and often priced to support the local business owner who doesn't have the purchasing power of a chain.  These places are great venues for serendipitous gourmet surprises if your time and budget enable you to make them a regular part of your shopping week.
-ZAGARA'S:  Their beef is often excellent, and they will carry some harder-to-find meat items (i.e. rabbit)  They are very fair about labeling and reducing the price of day-old produce which is a wonderful way to extract flavor AND savings when making a stew or other slow-cooked item that benefits from overripe ingredients. 

Yes, I know there are many more ethnic shops and smaller vendors in this great food-centric town of ours, but I am making mention of the ones that are most practical for me to use on regular basis in my profession...where I can get almost all the healthy stuff I need for the good people for whom I cook. 

But feel free to offer up your opionions, too.  Where do you like to do your shopping, Cleveland...and why??

How to Cook Like a Personal Chef

I watch the same the cooking shows and read the same cooking magazines that you do, so I know the clichéd expectation.  You think that because I am a personal chef, on my days off I must ride my whimsical 60’s-era beach cruiser bicycle down to the Farmer’s Market where I carefully handle and consider some seasonal produce, some grass-fed filets, perhaps some unpasteurized cider before pedaling off, ruddy-cheeked and with a baguette peeking out of my knapsack, into my afternoon of slicing and dicing because I am that passionate about good food.

Oh, puh-lease.  I don’t have time for that nonsense!

Look, I most assuredly am passionate about good food.  I cannot imagine loving any vocation more than I do this one, of creating and executing personalized menus for all kinds of wonderful people, but, holy cow, there are so many nagging little details of daily life, so many obligations outside of the workplace, that having a day, even a weekend day, that resembles a miniaturized culinary vacation is a treasured rarity.  On the contrary, the details of grown-up life have me twirling as chaotically as the rest of my busy peers.  The bottom line is sometimes I don’t feel like I have time to cook…at least not for myself.  But somehow I do.

So, how do I, as a personal chef, do it?  How do I cook all day and not find myself reduced to standing in a carryout line 5 nights a week?  How do I manage to make wholesome dinners for my household without dropping the ball on my other obligations?  Well, trust me, it’s not talent or some specialized training that keeps me out of the drive-thru.  It’s just a commitment to wanting to eat well coupled with the occasional (and re-energizing!) creative idea that gets me through.   Here are some tips I have come up with to get good stuff on the table with a minimal investment of time.

1. Make Your Grocer Your Prep Cook:  Buy your onions already chopped.  Buy your garlic already peeled.  Have the butcher trim your meats.  See if the prepared foods counter makes fresh stock each day.  This is not unhealthy pre-packaged convenience food…it’s still your home cooking…you’ve just taken some time-robbing chores out of the recipe.
2. Think of Easy Favorites:  I love chicken Caesar Salad.  I can grill a chicken breast in a few minutes (or get it done ahead of time on the weekend) and there is even a bottled Caesar dressing I find acceptable.  That’s a dinner I can get on the table in about 5 minutes!  There are too many quickie dinners to list here, so don’t you dare turn your nose up at those cheerful magazines with house-wifey, D-list food celebrities promising you recipes with dinner in 10 minutes.  Their recipes are often quite good, and lets face it…most nights all you have is 10 minutes, so you are not above their advice!    
3. Do Double Duty When You Can:  If there is one night you are able to muster up the energy to cook, then capitalize on it.  Double your recipe and freeze half of it for later.  Or make two dishes at once so you’ve cooked tomorrow’s dinner, too.
4. “Italians Do it Better”  Remember that slogan?!  Well, they might do it better.  At the very least, Italians might make pizza dough better than you.  And they might sell it at their neighborhood market.  Along with great pepperoni that they cure themselves.  And maybe a top-quality 3 ingredient sauce (Tomatoes, Garlic, Herbs).  If you stock up on some of their raw materials once a week, you can have the best gourmet pizza in town in less time than it would take to pick up the phone and call for delivery.
5. Breakfast:  It’s What’s for Dinner:  Little kids go crazy for breakfast foods at night.  Almost everyone can scramble and cook some eggs in less than 5 minutes.  And ounce for ounce, there is no finer or more easy-to-assimilate protein on the face of the earth than the humble, affordable egg.  Put together a quick salad  to go with your eggs and pair it with a light red wine and you are practically dining en Francais.
6. Bake Your Own Bread…Sort Of:  Did you know many grocery stores and a few bakeries sell frozen dough?  Freezing protects the raw ingredients from spoilage so that the dough is not packed with chemical stabilizers like already-baked commercial breads are.  Just thaw the dough overnight in the fridge and put it into a hot oven for 20 minutes.  You’ll feel like an artisan baker and the house will smell heavenly.
7. Reduce, Re-Use, Recycle:  OK, fine. You caved and bought a rotisserie chicken.  It’s alright.  Just don’t throw away any bones.  Stick them in the freezer until you have time.  Because when you do, you are going to boil them in a big pot of water later in the week, maybe with some onions, celery, or carrots thrown into the pot.  Maybe you’ll even use the leftover rice from Chinese take-out night.  There!  Chicken-rice soup.  You just got another meal out of the dregs of your leftovers.  And I promise you, it will actually be amazing.  So doggy-bag everything.  It might come in handy!
8. Set Yourself Up For Success:  When you are not doing a quickie-dinner-in-10-minutes meal…when you have a little bit more time and motivation to try a more ambitious recipe...then cook like they do on cooking shows and in professional restaurants.  They read the ingredient list and measure everything out first, setting it aside in little containers, before starting in earnest. That way, when you have vegetables on the cooktop, on the verge of burning and you see the recipe command: Add chopped chicken pieces, you are not thinking, “oh, no!  I forgot to chop the chicken!”  Instead, the chopped chicken is already waiting for you to calmly add it to the pan and keep cooking like a pro.

Finally, just shrug it off and forgive yourself if life gets away from you and a couple times a year you wind up eating a McBurger or a Kentucky Fried Heartburn.  After you’ve gotten a few home-made meals imprinted on your palate you’ll come to be semi-allergic to those poorer choices and you will find that those emergency bail-out meals become more and more of a rarity in your healthy, gourmet-inspired life.  And when you are on vacation, or by some miraculous twist of fate, your schedule is completely clear, feel free to pedal your beach cruiser to the Farmer's Market and play TV chef for the day!

Roast-y, Toasty Seeds and Nuts

Just home from a long and chilly hike, I was craving a salty snack, but the cupboards were relatively bare, save for about a handful of raw, unsalted sunflower seeds.

Hmmm...it wouldn't take long to turn those pathetically wan, little seeds into a lovely burnished, salty snack for one.

I turned the oven dial to 350, spritzed them with a short blast of spray oil (just to get the salt to stick) and sprinkled them with a couple pinches of sea salt.  10 minutes later, my seeds were a gorgeous shade of golden brown, hot, salty, and far more satisfying and nutritious than, say, some mass-manufactured chips.

There is no immediately compelling reason to roast your own seeds and nuts. After all, they are sold roasted at the same price point for which they are sold raw.  And, generally speaking, the nut roasteries are not pumping bizarre or dangerous additives into the nuts and seeds before they roast them, so there is no health benefit to the DIY approach.

So, why bother?

Well, friends, those brief 10 minutes in the kitchen allowed me to choose how burnished I wanted my roasted seeds.  Some folks like their food little more than blushing in hue while others crave things teetering on the cusp of charred...(I practically went fisticuffs with a friend when I picked her up for a post-breakfast walk one day and saw her throwing away perfect toast.  She claimed it was burnt.  I thought it looked just right!)  So, of course, roasting your own allows you to customize.  You can also adjust your flavor to something beyond what they offer in the grocery store by roasting seeds and nuts with celery salt, garlic powder, cinnamon sugar, spicy cayenne, smoky paprika, and more.

10 minutes is hardly a daunting amount of time to commit to glean that level of customization in your snacks.  For much the same reason, I am swearing off microwave popcorn---popping your own is so easy, and I recall (back in the days when microwaves were rarities) my mom used to do the most wonderful things to the popcorn she prepared on the stove-top, sprinkling the kernels with dried herbs, chili powder, and more.  I am not even going to get into the horrible additives they put into those faux-butter flavors, but if you are inclined to do the research, the workers who have to breath that stuff in while packaging it have had some serious health repercussions. 

I am digressing, though.   Please consider taking 10 minutes some weekend to make a healthful, personalized snack that seems so fitting with the autumn season.  If you carve pumpkins, you are going to have cups and cups of raw seeds on hand anyway...might as well make them delicious!