On the Occasion of Little Oblio's First Birthday

My daydreams waffle between vocations as a baker, a freight train locomotive engineer, and a professional surf/food writer for Condé Nast. All three have distinctive and alluring charms for me. What's more fundamental than reviving yeast with flour & water and producing the staff of life? Who's never harkened to the lonely train whistle's call on some vast plain, two parallel lines seeming always to converge on some movable horizon? And could anyone ever turn down a job getting paid to surf and eat? Certainly not me! But bread making resonates with my soul as the noblest of callings. So naturally, an old Italian bread dish inspired a menu for an intimate dinner of far-flung loved ones.

You all know Matty O'Food, loyal sidekick, and dependable resource for the pages of You Gonna Finish That? Some time ago, he married a terrific girl, my friend, the "soul of a baker, mouth of a trucker" Dirty Oven blogger. They observed their son's (Little Oblio) first year on this planet with a Halloween weekend celebration. The Dirty Oven came up with a colorful and fun party menu. She recruited the Lone Ranger and me to author something for the grown-ups invited to hang around after the birthday party. Brainstorming one night, we thought a Mediterranean theme would showcase our talents and east coast sensibilities. Panzanella just leapt to mind. After that, it wasn't a stretch to include lamb and couscous. And that's just what we did.

(Incidentally, I coined Little Oblio's name after his birth photos showed a very slight point to his head from the 15-hour laborpalooza he put his poor mother through. The original Oblio was the protagonist in Harry Nilsson's The Point, the 1971 fable about the only round-headed person in the Land of Point, and one of Matty's and my favorite albums. Well, as our Oblio's point began to recede, it was only natural he take up the moniker of our hero.)

A Mediterranean Dinner For Ten

Mustard Encrusted Rack of Lamb Panzanella Salad Mediterranean Israeli Couscous

Mustard Encrusted Lamb - by the Lone Ranger

For the marinade

3 racks of lamb with 10 chops per rack, roughly 4 lbs ¼ cup cider vinegar ½ cup extra virgin olive oil 3 Tbsp fresh rosemary, roughly chopped 2 Tbsp Dijon mustard 4 garlic cloves, minced ½ tsp salt ¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper

For the crust

½ loaf French baguette 2 Tbsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped 2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil 3-4 Tbsp Dijon mustard

Whisk together all the marinade ingredients in a large mixing bowl. Add lamb and toss to coat. Cover and marinate, refrigerated, for two hours or more.

Cube the baguette and pulse pieces in a food processor to a coarse texture. Toss with rosemary & olive oil, and spread out on a rimmed baking sheet. Lightly brown in a 350°F oven, tossing occasionally.

Bring lamb to room temperature, and remove from marinade, shaking off excess. In a large sauté pan, sear the lamb in a little olive oil over high heat until browned on both sides, about 10 minutes total. Wrap the Frenched rib bones with pieces of aluminum foil, and roast for 15 minutes in a pre-heated 400° oven. After 15 minutes, generously coat lamb with Dijon mustard and roll in herbed bread crumbs. Continue to roast another 5-10 minutes, until an internal temperature of 125° is reached. Remove lamb from oven and allow to rest for 10 minutes. Cut individual chops and serve immediately.

Panzanella Salad - Barefoot Contessa Parties!© 2001

For the salad

3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil 1½ French baguette loaves, cut into 1" cubes (6 cups) 1 tsp kosher salt 2 large, ripe tomatoes, cut into 1" cubes 1 hothouse cucumber, seeded and sliced ½" thick 1 red bell pepper, seeded and cut into 1" cubes 1 yellow bell pepper, seeded and cut into 1" cubes ½ red onion, cut in half and thinly sliced 20 large basil leaves, coarsely chopped 3 Tbsp capers, drained

For the vinaigrette

1 tsp finely minced garlic ½ tsp Dijon mustard 3 Tbsp Champagne vinegar ½ cup extra virgin olive oil ½ tsp kosher salt ¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper

Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan. Add the bread and salt; cook over low to medium heat, tossing frequently, for 10 minutes, or until nice browned. If necessary, cook in batches, adding more oil as needed. Whisk all vinaigrette ingredients together. In a large salad bowl, mix the tomatoes, cucumber, red & yellow peppers, red onion, basil and capers. Add the croutons and toss with the vinaigrette. Season liberally with salt and pepper. Allow salad to sit for an hour or more for the flavors to blend.

For a second side, I doctored up a package of Trader Joe's Harvest Grains Blend by tossing it with a couple tablespoons of olive oil, then allowing it to cool to room temperature before folding in chopped almonds, quartered oil-cured black olives and sliced scallions. It got a hefty shake of salt or two as well before serving. Très Meditteraneo, non?

New Yorkers, Philadelphians, Chicagoans, southern and northern Californians sat down to a simple, lovely buffet. Toasts were offered to Little Oblio's parents, to the birthday boy himself, the chefs, even the other guests, just for showing up! It was a night that will be remembered for birthdays to come. Matty O'Food and the Dirty Oven: proven, successful breeders, and hosts extraordinaire!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

In France They Kiss on Main Street

I have never made a secret of my love affair with France. On the contrary, I'm a bit of a snob about it. I have no idea from where this affectation springs. I'm Mexican & Irish. I grew up in southern California, southern Ohio, and then southern California again. What did I know of French? As a kid, I used to daydream about being the Prince of Wales, or the newly dubbed Crown Prince of Bavaria and living in Schloss Neuschwanstein. But when it came time to sign up for a foreign language in high school, I leapt at French. My Latina mother was aghast. I could not then, nor can I now offer any credible defense.

It's has been hard getting back to posting on You Gonna Finish That?. My mind wanders. I can't seem to find a thread that will weave all the stories together. Also, I've been reading a new friend's blog, and it has soured me on my own writing. Add a crippling dash of guilt for not posting, and you have yourself a spiraling cocktail of inertia.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to indulge in public, masturbatory Francophilia. For this writer's money, France remains the capital of all things culinary. Even the most base, back-alley café takes the time preparing its dishes as befits a nation of gourmands. Many are family run enterprises with a wife or mother out front and a spouse or son (or daughter) behind the counter. Folks take an earnest pride in what comes out of their kitchens. They show a genuine appreciation for a healthy appetite and a favorable remark. One chef in particular quite literally hung inside the little window where he passed plates through to the hostess, waiting for my reaction to his creations. I was touched. No less so because the food was absolutely delicious. For the curious, the restaurant was Le Gayridon - 19 Rue de Picardie, 75003 Paris. It was recommended by a very colorful celebrant at a local gay club in the Marais district of Paris - probably the coolest neighborhood in the City. I am so glad to have made the discovery.

I was on my own this trip. It had its plusses and minuses. I spent a lot of time just wandering around, attempting to get lost, but always stumbling upon some familiar site or vista that would jar me out of my nostalgic musings. I relied on my iPod during these rambles; something I detest normally, but I was in the mood for a soundtrack all my own as I relished this most beautiful and urbane of cities. But instead of monumental architecture or heartbreakingly powerful paintings, my eye turned towards food.

I followed a few simple rules: avoid the heavily-touristed boulevards, skip any bistro with an English translation of its menu, and never ever be in a rush. I tended to gravitate to establishments where the locals were dining. I once discreetly followed a pair of stunning off-duty gendarmes on their way to lunch. It was a great success both for the meal and the subsequent scenery.

I broke my tourist rule just once, and only at the insistence of a Parisienne friend who met me for dinner one night. She took me to Le Petit Châtelet - 39, Rue de la Bûcherie, 75005 Paris, one of her favorite French restaurants. It was a beautiful summer evening, just made for dinging out of doors. We could spy the towers of Notre Dame just across the Seine. In spite of the insipid American father/daughter duo seated to my right, Le Petit Châtelet soon became a favorite of mine as well. The headwaiter had impeccable manners. He displayed feigned, pleasant shock when I ordered a Pernod instead of wine as an apéritif. I liked him immediately. Over salmon mousse and duck, we eavesdropped on smatterings of German and English overheard at adjoining tables. I pretended not to loathe my more ignorant countrymen, instead focusing on the enchanting atmosphere and relishing being white, single and male in the City of Lights.

Paris opened up to me on this visit like no other time. I dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, eschewing my flip flops for more conventional leather walking shoes. I wasn't lugging around a backpack, and the locals rather foolishly took me for someone of respectable means. At every turn, I was greeted courteously and treated with friendliness and respect. Unheard of in France, or so I'm told.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Meat Pops

Well, after Natalie's delicious lamb chops yesterday, I was feeling quite deprived. Unfortunately, I picked the wrong day for a restless craving. Or had I? I skipped out of work early for nine holes of golf and by the time I got home the butcher would be closed. Trader Joe's, however, is open late. I picked up a rack of lamb, TJ's own blend of Israeli couscous, orzo and red quinoa, and frozen vegetables. I was home and at the table in under an hour. I don't see it as cheating. TJ's sells a superior product. They're conscientious and look for goods that are free of additives and artificial ingredients. And besides, I am not a true believer; death to all extremists is my motto.

The lamb went into a 350° pre-heated oven for 25 minutes (for medium-rare chops). Not one to leave well enough alone, I spruced up the starch with a little heat from dried chilies. I sweated chopped chilies for about a minute in about a ½ tsp of olive oil, then followed directions on the package for the rest of the cooking. Once the lamb came out of the oven and was resting, I sautéed the vegetables in a pan with a little oil for about 6 minutes, sliced the lamb and arranged everything on a serving platter and documented the meal for posterity. Start to finish: 30 minutes, tops. Tucked away in the wine cave was one last bottle of Storrs Petit Syrah. Craving satisfied.

We confirmed bachelors often cook for one. It doesn't have to be takeout or come with instructions to "fold back foil to reveal tater tots". Nor do you have to dirty every dish in the kitchen. Deprivation is for the unimaginative or the criminally lazy.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Take Comfort In Me

It's dark now; dark when I awaken, and dark when I finish work for the day. My internal clock falls back an hour in its own way. I nest. I conserve my energy. I forego the television and rely on my books. I turn down invitations. I don't stray too far from my kitchen. And on a rainy day like this one, I plot a meal that will comfort like an old pair of slippers.

For me, when I want to feel cozy and safe, it's meat and potatoes roasting in a hot oven. The heat and smells from the kitchen permeate the rest of the house. I am blanketed in the familiar as if in a fog of nostalgia and I am gladdened. Time slows down, and I become aware of every step in my preparation, but observe as if outside myself. These hands know just what to do; the knives and pans feel like old friends. There is no conscious effort on my part. Instinct and muscle memory take over. Even anticipation falls away, replaced with a certitude that all is well. For an hour or two the internal dialogue is quieted and I am at peace.

Herb roasted leg of lamb and Confetti potatoes

Coat a boneless leg of lamb with chopped rosemary, thyme, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. Brown on all sides in a large pan with 2 Tbsp of olive oil, 10-15 minutes total.

While meat is browning, quarter purple, red and gold potatoes and toss with 1 Tbsp olive oil, salt and pepper.

Add the potatoes to the pan and transfer to a 450° pre-heated oven on the lower-middle rack. Cook approximately 20 minutes per pound, or until meat reaches an internal temperature of 135° for rare, 145° for medium.

Remove roasted lamb from pan allowing it to rest covered with aluminum foil for 20 minutes. Return the potatoes to the oven to crisp up if you prefer. Cut medium-sized slices and serve with potatoes and a good Cabernet Sauvignon, like Stag's Leap 2005 Artemis from the Arcadia Vineyard in the Napa Valley.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Agnus Dei

"We kids feared many things in those days - werewolves, dentists, North Koreans, Sunday School - but they all paled in comparison with Brussels sprouts." - Dave Barry, Miami Herald Columnist

I think just about every kid hates Brussels sprouts. I don't know a lot of adults who will eat them either. It must be because we don't know how to prepare them. If we can't mercilessly boil our vegetables to death, we Americans don't know what do to with them. (There I go again, hating our freedoms.) A chef friend of mine once served Brussels sprouts sautéed with honey and lemon several years back, and I've been a fan ever since.

As you already know, I picked up about a pound of fresh Brussels sprouts from my Farmer's Market way back in October. Right around the time my Nimbus 500 (10-year old PC) decided to crap out while I procrastinated over shelling out the cash for a new machine. Though I was without blogging capabilities, I continued to shop and cook.

First I rinsed my sprouts in cold water and then trimmed back the loose outer leaves and some of the stem. Then I lowered them in a steamer basket into boiling water and blanched them for about two minutes. Blanching softens the sprouts without robbing them of much of their nutritional value. After letting them drain and cool a bit, I cut them all in half, length-wise.

I crisped up some cubed pancetta in a skillet, poured off most of the fat and then added the sprouts to the pan over high heat. I squeezed in the juice of a lemon along with a generous dollop of honey and tossed everything together.

N.B. Once the sprouts, bacon and liquids are mixed, LEAVE THE PAN ALONE. It's tempting to stir and fuss over the pot, it gives one the sense of accomplishing something. But in this instance you want to allow the vegetables to develop a little caramelization.

I suppose one could make a meal of Brussels sprouts with pancetta alone, but it would be a sad sort of affair. Certainly not something worthy of You Gonna Finish That. No, I went with a classic French rack of lamb that my Italian butcher prepped for me. I seasoned it with rosemary, thyme, garlic, a little olive oil and lots of salt and pepper. Wrapped in cellophane, it rested in my refrigerator over night. The next day, while prepping my Brussels sprouts, I pre-heated the oven and a roasting pan to 425°. While the sprouts blanched, the lamb roasted in the oven. Twenty minutes later, as the vegetables finished caramelizing, I covered the finished lamb with foil, allowing the juices to re-distribute into the meat.

I sat down to a perfect medium-rare lamb chop and Brussels sprouts that weren't bitter or mushy, but firm, sweet and sour all at the same time. The pancetta lent saltiness and smoke. Good lamb will have a rich, almost gamey flavor. You need a wine that will stand up to the intensity of the flavors. A good Petite Syrah is always a formidable contender. Berry and spice in the nose, jammy and peppery in the mouth, it can hold its own. Storrs Winery in Santa Cruz, California bottled an '05 Rusty Ridge old vine Syrah in 2007. I somehow managed to hold on to a bottle until now. I tried convincing a couple of folks to head up to the Bronx for a glass; no one would take the bait. My old friend Augie Roche had a Portuguese saying for just such occasions: mais para mim, more for me!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Late Night with Pita

Know what I love? Trains. Trains relieve you of the stress of driving. Trains rarely get stuck in traffic. On a train, you can eat, drink, take a nap. Try that next time you're behind the wheel of an automobile.

Trains go into Manhattan every day. Manhattan has food. Ergo, trains = food.

This little fellow has a food cart outside the 42nd Street entrance to Grand Central Terminal. He sells me an Italian sausage pita or a lamb gyro almost every time I enter the place. He and I are very old acquaintances. Not to be outdone, I thought I'd try my hand at his lamb gyro. Here's what I've come up with so far...

GCT Food Cart Lamb Gyro

8oz lamb tenderloin 4 loaves pita bread 1 head iceberg lettuce 1 medium tomato 1 small white onion 4Tbs olive oil Hot sauce

Yogurt sauce: ½ cup yogurt 1 small cucumber 2Tbs fresh lemon juice ½tsp white pepper ¼tsp celery salt ¼tsp red pepper flakes (optional)

It's best to start with your sauce. If you can make it a day ahead of time, even better. Peel and vertically halve a small cucumber. With a teaspoon, scrape out the seeds, and then finely mince. Mix the cucumber and all the other sauce ingredients in a small bowl. Cover and refrigerate.

Rub lamb tenderloins with 2Tbs olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Set on hot grill, cooking 10-12 minutes on both sides. I like meat medium-rare, so adjust your cooking time. While lamb is grilling, sauté the sliced onion in 2Tbs of olive oil over medium high heat until the onions start to brown. Remove from heat and set aside. Shred lettuce and give the tomato a rough chop.

Once lamb is cooked, remove from grill, cover lightly with aluminum foil, and let rest for 15 minutes. Slice thinly after it has rested.Toast pita loaves on still-hot grill just until heated through. Pile lamb slices in the middle of pita, top with yogurt sauce, add lettuce, tomato, grilled onions and your favorite hot sauce. Fold ends of pita bread over the filling, and enjoy. After testing my version, I've decided to add a dry rub of ground fennel and tarragon seeds, paprika and sweet curry powder before grilling. You'll be the first to know how that turns out. I'll still be frequenting my guy's cart in Manhattan, but now know I can whip these babies up at home. You can too!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food