Foodie Girls Lunch Brigade - Episode 15

I felt like a stalker.   Let's face it, I was a stalker.    I'd caught a whiff, a taste of my quarry*, and I was now on the prowl with a vengeance.     But I was cunning.  I was sly.   I was patient.   And I was not alone.   Like wolves, we circled**, and the pack became one.  The pack was hungry.  Very hungry.

The prey was on the move.  Darting through crowds, vanishing*** into the night, then suddenly appearing out of nowhere.    Taunting.  Tantalizing.

Twittering.

@frysmith:  "Sorry! The Frysmith Truck is closed on Monday.  Catch us later this week!"

Great howls of rage and disappointment rose and echoed through the canyons.  But we were crafty, adaptive creatures, wise to the wiles of the jungle around us.   We had a back up plan that involved  pancakes.   The hunt began anew.

This time, the pack would not be denied.

Episode 15: Hey, Butter Butter!

Three starving FG's flew down the 405 on a recent Monday, heading for the last known locale of The Buttermilk Truck.   We parked and practically ran across the street, then stopped dead in our tracks as our eyes took in the menu.    Our base instincts took over.

FG3 and FG6 paralyzed at the sight of the options

FG3:  I'll have the breakfast sandwich with applewood bacon and the red velvet pancakes.  What?  Yes! Of course, I want the rosemary hash browns on the side for 50 cents!  And...and a tee shirt!   And a diet coke! 

She steps back, almost wild-eyed with excitement.

FG1:  (Breathlessly) The sliders!  We need the breakfast sliders, and an order of doughnuts.  How many?  Three should be good.

Growls from the pack.

FG1:  Five.  Make it five doughnuts.   And the brick.  The special brick.  We'll take one brick.   And a diet coke.

FG6:  The breakfast sandwich with the chicken apple sausage.  What?  You think you might be out of the chicken apple sausage?

The three of us glare up at the screen window balefully.  Teeth bared.

FG6:  Aha!  You have one order left.   We'll take it.  With hash browns. How do I like my eggs?  A little more on the done side, thanks for asking...Hey!  Hey, girls?  Did anyone order the french toast sticks?  Oh my god!  We forgot the french toast sticks!   We need french toast sticks.  How many?

She glances uneasily at the others.  They seem placated by the act of ordering.

FG6:  (Whispering)  Three.  I think we can manage with three.  And a water.

When the paper trays emerge from that truck, it is all we can do not to rip the food apart with our bare hands****.   The French toast sticks melt away in seconds, leaving a trail of cinnamon and syrup in their wake.   The breakfast sandwich is piping hot, with a curl of smoky bacon visible beneath the glistening fried egg and buttery biscuit.   It's mighty tasty, but almost beside the point after we bite into the hash brown cake that perches precariously on the side.    Fried to perfection with almost no hint of residual grease, the golden brown, crunchy outside yields to a pillowy white bundle of finely shredded potatoes with a hint of fresh rosemary inside.  Salty, creamy, and earthy all at once, it completely redefines the concept of breakfast potatoes with every bite.

We're riveted by the red velvet pancakes, but something***** makes us hold back.  Perhaps it is the sight of the brick.   A layer of hash browns.  A sunny-side up egg.  Smothered in spicy chorizo gravy.  With a biscuit on top.  Oh. My. Lord.   Decadent is not even the right word.   Ridiculously, crazy good is closer.   Admittedly, the biscuit is more flat than fluffy and resists our frantic stabs with the fork.  But it's so not the point of the dish.   This is about the gravy.  And the gravy rocks.

On to the sliders.  Hawaiian bread, lightly toasted.  Portuguese sausage rounds, grilled so they have great little charred bits on the edges.   A smattering of sweet, almost caramelized onions.  And a shoyu fried egg.   Magic on a bun.   This is the dish I will order when I come back.

With a side of doughnuts.   Imagine the best buttermilk bar you've ever had, right out of the fryer, as a doughnut hole.    So the ratio of  deep brown toasty outside to rich warm cake-y inside is perfect.   Now imagine that those little nuggets were tossed in a bag with powdered sugar the minute they left the vat, so the sugar clings to every nook and cranny, almost creating a second coat of goodness in the brief moment between the guy handing you the bag and you shoveling them into your mouth.   That's how good these were.   Honestly.

There were five, but two did not survive long enough to be in the photo

We were slowing down, but the forks made their way inevitably toward the pancakes.   With our stomachs nearly sated, we could now rise above the purely animal joy at the conclusion of a successful hunt.     The level of discourse rose from grunting with our mouths full to normal conversation, and at last, to an almost philosophical discussion of one of life's great mysteries:

Why on earth would anyone eat dry, crumbly cupcakes when moist, tender, warm bundles of chocolate heaven like this exist?

The pack had no answer to this, or any other important questions******.    The remains of the feast were picked clean, almost bleached white in the sun.   Like their elusive prey, the FGs  had to move on********.    But we will certainly strike again soon.   Find out where on our website!

FG Final Verdict?  The Buttermilk Truck is ON the list!
Pricing Info:  Most dishes $3-5
FG Value rating:  A steal!

* I happened across the FrySmith truck by accident one day, pulled over to the side of the road, and practically died of joy while devouring an order of their Raja Fries.   
** Actually, I sent out an evite.
*** The truck was in Atwater Village, which for some people in LA, is akin to vanishing.
**** Our dilemma was made even more problematic by the lack of knives at the truck.  Forks they had.  Knives, not so much.  And napkins were apparently only available to those who pestered the guys making breakfast.
***** Probably the huge dollop of cream cheese frosting and powdered sugar screaming "DESSERT!  DESSERT!  DESSERT!" at us.
****** Like the one posed by my husband upon seeing these photos:  "Where will you be going next?  The cardiology truck?"
******* It was almost time to pick the cubs up in carpool.

Not just a good idea

A favorite blog, Schott's Vocab, invited readers over the weekend to create slogans for things that are not normally advertised.   They were all good, but I especially loved these three:

“Yesterday: Like today. With fewer surprises.” 

“Geography: It’s everywhere.”

“Parenting: It’s really fun at the very beginning.” 

Read the full post:  Gravity.  It's not just a good idea -- it's the law

Dare to Steam

"The April 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Esther of The Lilac Kitchen. She challenged everyone to make a traditional British pudding using, if possible, a very traditional British ingredient: suet."

I almost skipped it.    Even absent the specific challenge information, logic told me to stay away*.     And then, when I saw instructions that involved rendering your own cow fat** as Step 1, and knotting up some kind of harness with string and foil as step 7, I was pretty much done.

I was just about to post my shamefaced "That's all folks, I'll see you Daring Bakers sometime in May" message to the group when I noticed one key fact***:

The suet was optional. Only the steaming part was required.

Well, that's a whole different story, isn't it?

I was in****.  And boy, am I glad about it.  This was a rich, luscious and deeply comforting dessert.  It was like eating the moistest cake you've ever had, straight out of the oven.  But without the oven, and without the fuss.   And of course, without that icky suet.

Dark Chocolate Spice Pudding with Cheater's Creme Anglaise
I discovered this recipe using good old google.  I think my exact search term was "steamed chocolate pudding recipe."   I lucked out.   All the spices serve to intensify and magnify the chocolate, making   this a wonderfully complex and grown up dessert.   My adapted version is below:

4 oz. semisweet chocolate, chopped (I used Ghiaradelli Special Dark 72% baking chocolate)
½ cup butter
2 eggs
½ cup packed brown sugar
1 tbsp finely grated orange zest (I didn't have an orange, so I skipped this part)
¼ cup orange juice

½ cup cold strong coffee
1 tbsp vanilla
1 cup flour
1 ½ tsp baking powder
1 ½ tsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp freshly ground pepper
½ tsp salt
½ tsp freshly ground dry mustard

Generously butter 6-8 small ramekins (or a single large pudding mold), and dust the bottoms with a combination of cocoa powder and sugar*****.   Put a bunch of water on to boil.

Melt chocolate and butter in a double-boiler or a microwave. Stir regularly until chocolate has completely melted.  Remove from heat and let cool for a few minutes. In a separate bowl, combine eggs and brown sugar until blended.  Stir chocolate mixture into egg mixture. Add orange zest, orange juice, coffee and vanilla, and mix well. Whisk flour, baking powder, ginger, cinnamon, pepper, salt and mustard together, fold into chocolate mixture just enough to moisten.  Pour into ramekins and cover.

Get out your crock pot, or set up a large pot on the stove.   Place ramekins into the pot, and slowly add boiling water until it reaches halfway up the sides of your puddings.  Cover pan and return water to a boil.  Reduce heat to simmer.  Cook for about 1 hour for small puddings, 90 minutes for larger pudding.   During cooking time, add hot water as needed to maintain water level.

Remove puddings and allow to set for 5-10 minutes.  Serve warm in the ramekins, or unmold onto plates.  Either way, sprinkle with powdered sugar and pass the cheater's sauce on the side.

NOTE:  There may be a moment about halfway through cooking where your husband walks by and says, "So, you add chocolate to the water too, huh?  That's cool."   This will cause you to jump up in panic as you realize your ramekin tops are leaking and there are pools of chocolate goo floating around your puddings.    Fear not.  It's messy but most of the pudding will still be inside cooking away nicely.  Pretend to your husband that this is definitely part of the plan and that it is indeed cool.

Cheater's Creme Anglaise

Take some vanilla bean ice cream out of the freezer about 10 minutes before your puddings are done.   Put it in a bowl on the counter and let it soften up a bit.   Just before serving, stir it around vigorously so it has the consistency of frosting.   Top each pudding with a dollop and play it off as something you learned in cooking school.  Works every time.
 
* A: I'd spent the early part of the weekend cranking out cookies for the bake-off at our school fair, and then spent the fair day eating my way through the various competing entries (for research purposes, of course).   I was so thoroughly sugared out that I had eaten dry roasted peanuts for dessert.   B: My husband was on an enforced 24 hour liquid diet (don't ask), and the kids were heading to bed so any and all results would have to be eaten by me, and me alone.   C: There were new episodes of House and 24 on tonight.   Putting it all together:  A+B+C = Screw it.  QED.
** Per our hostess, "Suet is the hard but flaky fat found on the inside of a cow or sheep around the kidneys and that area of the body."  Yeah.  Double screw it.
*** Along with some raves from other DB's who had finished their challenges, and a helpful hint involving a crock pot.   
**** Plus there was a new factor, D:  I had these great ramekins that my mom had from the 60s that I'd been dying to use.  The recipe said you could use ramekins!  And we could pick any kind of pudding we wanted to make.  Putting it all together:  D > A+B+C.  QED.
***** If yours don't come with tops like mine, you will need to rig up a cover of buttered parchment or wax paper and some foil to make tops, and use string to hold the tops in place while they steam.

Guinea pigs don't send care packages

A few days ago, I was out running errands with my mom.   More specifically, I was driving her around and waiting in the car a lot while she went to the grocery store*, the bank**, and Macy's.   I reached my limit when the line at the post office imperiled the timeliness of my next chauffeuring appointment.***

Me:  I can't do this today, Mom. I'm really sorry.
Her:  (Pointedly putting the carefully addressed packages back into her bag with a regretful sigh) Oh, that's OK. 

So of course I find myself driving back to Burbank the next day to take her to the post office.   Which turns into me waiting in line with her packages while she's resting comfortably in her apartment.

God, she's good.

We're heading to my house a few days later.

Her:  It felt very strange to not go to the post office.
Me:  I agree.  It was very strange for you not to go to the post office.
Her:  I've been going to the post office for years.  
Me:  You can still go to the post office.
Her:  That's not my point.   My point is, I felt bad.  But then, I thought of something, and it made me feel a lot better.
Me:  What was that?
Her:  I was thinking how well qualified you are to work with seniors.    You could run the most amazing old people's home!  You know how to cook.   You love board games.   You're very patient.  Plus, you're a good listener, and that's so important since old people can really talk your ear off if you let them.
Me:  You don't say.
Her:  The only thing you don't really know is the health part, but I'm sure you could figure that out.  And there's a lot of money in it, believe me.  It's a growth industry.   So I realized that thanks to me, there's  a whole new career ahead of you later in life.   And that made me feel good.
Me:  That's a pretty big leap, Mom.  Do you think they'd all need me to take their stuff to the post office? 
Her:  (Ignoring me)  Plus, you've had experience with the guinea pigs.
Me:  The guinea pigs.
Her:  Yes.  You've been through it.  When they die, I mean.   Some people aren't cut out for that part of the job.  But I think you'll be fine.

She smiles at me cheerfully, and takes out her shopping list for the grocery store.

To be honest, I like the part when the guinea pigs are born much better.

* Where she managed to reap a savings of something like $63 on her three bags of groceries through a combination of double coupons, weekly specials, and club card deals.
** Where she handed me her ATM card at the drive through window and in a slow, clear voice, recited the PIN code for me three times.   I tactfully refrain from punching it in before she's finished, and she tactfully refrains from overtly criticizing my own profligate cash withdrawal habits. 
*** Driving my son and his friend clear across town so they could lie around another friend's house and do nothing as a group.

Because the kind that comes pre-ground has very little flavor

From the Associated Press:

Cookbook pulped over 'ground black people' typo

(AP) – 2 days ago

SYDNEY — An Australian publisher is reprinting 7,000 cookbooks over a recipe for pasta with "salt and freshly ground black people."

Penguin Group Australia's head of publishing, Bob Sessions, acknowledged the proofreader for the Pasta Bible should have picked up the error, but called it nothing more than a "silly mistake."

The "Pasta Bible" recipe for spelt tagliatelle with sardines and prosciutto was supposed to call for black pepper.

"We're mortified that this has become an issue of any kind and why anyone would be offended, we don't know," he told The Sydney Morning Herald for a story printed Saturday.

"We've said to bookstores that if anyone is small-minded enough to complain about this ... silly mistake, we will happily replace (the book) for them."

The reprint will cost Penguin 20,000 Australian dollars ($18,500), but books already in stores will not be recalled because doing so would be "extremely hard," Sessions said.

There was no answer at Penguin's offices Sunday."

Foodie Girls Lunch Brigade - Episode 14

Like all relationships, the bond between eater and restaurant goes through phases.  The flush of discovery when you first meet. The thrill of connection when you know this is more than a one-nighter.  The heady excitement of the early meals, when you can't seem to keep your joy to yourself.   And, over time, the cosy comfort of knowing each other very well.   Your table, the staff, the feeling when you walk through the door as familiar as the worn shoes on your feet.  The menu: superfluous.   You are that rarest of breeds:  A regular.   And the restaurant is your place*.

So it's kind of weird to find out that other people like your place.   Validating, yet somehow a bit disconcerting at the same time.  Especially when it turns out that other people like your place for entirely different reasons.  And that one of those reasons is tofu.


Episode 14 - Falling in love with Iroha (all over again)

Yes, tofu.   Agadashi Tofu, to be exact.  A dish I can't recall ever seeing on the menu at Iroha Sushi of Tokyo, but which FG7 swore was the best cooked tofu dish in the city.  Best in the city?  Huh.  How come I didn't know that?  I felt cheated, yet somehow titillated.  Like seeing a beloved spouse in the light of an admiring stranger.   And suddenly there were admiring strangers coming out of the woodwork.   "I love Iroha!" came an e-mail.  "My old stomping ground!" gushed another.    We practically had a complete Iroha harem around the table when we sat down to lunch**. 

One of the fun things about Iroha is how hidden it is, basically a tiny house behind a Japanese pottery shop on Ventura Blvd.   At night, there is a tarot card reader in a hut at the edge of the parking lot.  It's usually a toss up between sitting at the warm and inviting sushi bar or out on the quiet patio, particularly when the strings of twinkling lights are on during warm evenings.  For lunch on a nice day, the secluded leafy patio wins, hands down.


FG7 was quick to put in an order for the tofu.  Other voices piped up for the calamari salad.  Fried string beans. The lotus root is great here, someone raved.  I asserted myself with the albacore tataki and the crunchy roll.  Then suddenly there was spicy tuna on crispy rice cakes and a forest fire roll in the mix.   The juxtaposition of the familiar with the unexpected was thrilling.

Our animated conversation was briefly interrupted when a shower of water hit the heat lamp over our heads with a sizzling hiss before splattering on the floor behind us.   Staff on the roof was removing shades to let in more light, and got more than they bargained for.  But thank goodness they did, so I could get these photos...

That tofu!  A revelation indeed.  Chunky squares of the stuff, with the texture of great flan, flash fried in the lightest of tempura batters.  These were in turn surrounded by a rich, earthy broth and sprinkled lightly with finely chopped scallions.   This dish (a complete steal at $5.50) gave new meaning to the phrase "comfort food."

String beans were snapped up hungrily.  The lotus root salad was a small bowl of contrasting textures and dark, sweet-salty flavor.   Crunchy shavings mixed with the thinnest of cold noodles and a sauce full of soy, sesame and sugar.  FG8, in particular, was a big fan.

The calamari salad, by contrast, was enormous and almost tropical, bright with color and a zesty, crisp mix of citrus, pepper, and perfectly fried rings of calamari, dusted lightly with a spicy batter.   I have seriously been missing out!

Then came the fish.   The albacore, just barely seared, sliced perfectly and gorgeously fanned out on a plate with a pile of crisp, impossibly thin strings of fried onions, was stunning to look at, but even more incredible to eat.  Silky smooth, wrapped up with those onions and the delectable sauce, each bite was bliss on a chopstick***.

A ring of sweet, still-warm crispy rice cakes with generous helpings of spicy tuna disappeared quickly.   The forest fire roll, "albacore, ginger, garlic and cucumber roll with spicy tuna on top" - could be summed up more succinctly as "the yummy ginger one."   And then, I think our eyes may have all closed in happiness simultaneously with the crunchy roll.   Mixing fresh crab with tempura flakes and spicy mayonnaise, it is both a textural and taste sensation not to be missed.

Walking to my car after lunch, I felt an odd mix of surprise, comfort and pride****.   My place, in the end, turned out to be both more than I expected, and exactly the place I knew.  No wonder we've been together so long.

FG Final Verdict?  Iroha is ON the list!
Pricing information:  A very wide range.  Appetizers $4-15, rolls $5-20, sushi $5-17, entrees $11-30. 
FG Value Rating:  Fair deal*****

Hey! Don't forget to check out our website to see where the FG's will be heading next!

* My husband and I have been coming here at least once or twice a month for ages.  It's our favorite sushi place in LA by far, and that's saying something in a city full of incredible sushi restaurants.
** Including one Iroha virgin, who after confessing that she was "not a sushi person" before this lunch, left with a beatific smile on her face at the end, having tasted and thoroughly enjoyed nearly everything.
*** This dish is one of the reasons I'll always be true to Iroha.   When you throw in the crunchy roll and the fact that it's open until midnight, "'til death do us part" doesn't seem to do the depth of my allegiance justice.
**** As well as fullness of the belly.
***** Our bill was just over $25 per person.

I did not write this on an iPad

My cat did.



Thanks to my sister for sending this...and thank you also to The Onion, for this eerily accurate description of the iPad's key selling point:

"To ensure that its users receive the constant public attention they crave, the iPad will emit the phrase "Hey, does that guy have an iPad?" every eight minutes."