Foodie Girls Lunch Brigade - Episode 23

"If you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter!" - Eve Arden, as Principal McGee in Grease, 1978

"If you can't be a restaurant, be a restaurant supporter!" - The FGs, as hungry people, during Dine LA Restaurant Week, 2011

Episode 23 - We're Impressed with Fraiche

As the midwest and the Eastern seaboard were blanketed with record snowfall last week, four FG's gathered on a sunlit sidewalk terrace in the heart of Culver City's expanding restaurant row.    The hostess had kindly pointed out that the heat lamps were on in case we were worried about catching a chill.  To be honest, we were concerned, what with the slight breeze and the temperature only in the high sixties*.   Fortunately, our corner table was bright and toasty and well-situated at the edge of the patio.

Fraiche, at nearly three years old, is almost the grande dame of the foodie stops in this rapidly gentrifying neighborhood.   It was an early entrant into the market-fresh, California brasserie style of restaurant that is now, fortunately, running rampant around the city, and quickly became known for it's no-nonsense, artfully prepared Mediterranean food at reasonable prices.    Many, many people love this place, but I had never tried it**.   So when I noticed their Dine LA lunch menu, I knew this was just the thing for the FGs.

Friache DineLA Lunch Menu - $22 per person

Choice of Appetizers

Heirloom Beet Gazpacho

Goat Cheese Mousse / Balsamic

Arugula Salad

Chorizo / Manchego / Dates / Marcona Almonds

Baby Beets

House Made Ricotta / Orange / Pistachio

Choice of Entrees

Seared Scottish Salmon

Farro / Black rice / Tangerine / Arugula

Gnochetti Sardi

Wild Mushrooms Bolognese / Pecorino Romano

Vialone Nano Risotto

Porcini / Arugula / Pine Nuts

Choice of Desserts

Chocolate Pot de Creme

Candied Hazelnut / Creme Fraiche

Caramel Budino

Vanilla Mascarpone / Sea Salt

Pistachio Creme Brulee

Rosemary Cookies

The place was nearly empty when we sat down just before noon, and while we all intended to have the prix fixe lunch, it was hard not to salivate over the regular lunch menu.   FG16 pointed out the best part:  "You gotta love a menu where the desserts are in the center column!"  And, where are there more dessert options than there are salads.   We agree; we are inclined love this place on that basis alone.

Eventually***, we put in our order:  two beet salads, two arugula salads, one salmon, two risottos, and one gnochetti.  And of course, one of each dessert, with an extra caramel budino.   We sat back, very pleased with how we'd handled that, and began swapping stories about Ireland (FG16 had been, FG14 was going soon), the burgers at the other table (should we have ordered that?), and reality TV (it's fake).

When the first course arrived, we stopped talking****.  This food was gorgeous!

F14 and F16 had the baby beet salad.  I don't even like beets, and I was wild about this salad.  The housemade ricotta was marvelous...silky and rounded and just a touch salty.  The mix of this with the sweet, tender beets and the tangy citrus...wow!

The arugula salad that FG15 and I had tasted just as good as it looks.  The crunch of the almonds, combined with a bright, lemony dressing, peppery greens, bits of salty chorizo and cheese and the sweet surprise of dates, made this one of my favorite salads in recent memory.  I could have gone home happy after this.  But then, the second courses, too, were wonderful.

FG14's salmon was perfectly seared, nearly rare on the inside, just how she likes it.  The faro was also done right, with a nice toothsome bite and the zing of the tangerines offsetting the richness of the fish.   The plate was so beautiful we almost didn't want to eat it.  But we got over that pretty fast. 

Did you know..."bolognese" does not automatically mean "meat sauce"?  We were surprised, too, as this version was 100% vegetarian, made with a bevy of wild mushrooms in a robust tomato sauce.   It was earthy, rich, and satisfying, but didn't send us into raptures.

The risotto, on the other hand, did.   The rice was creamy and light at the same time, the porcini mushrooms adding depth and heartiness, with just a hint of bitterness from the greens.   The cheese and pine nuts were definitely there but did not overwhelm the dish, as so often happens with risotto.  All the flavors just sang.  Fantastic!!!

A couple next to us, just ordering, sought our advice on their options.  We were quick to endorse their choice of the beet salad and the risotto.  The restaurant had slowly filled, and we became aware that we were having what could be construed as the FG's first "power lunch".   People were stopping by to pay respects to an Oscar-nominated producer, then nodding to other vaguely recognizable faces in the crowd.   The formerly tranquil terrace was buzzing and hopping with studio types enjoying the weather, each other's company, and the excellent food.  Getting into the spirit of the thing, we decided to do a little negotiating with ourselves over who got to eat which dessert first.

The pistachio creme brulee was an off-putting shade of bright green, and was far too sweet.  The first true dud of the day.  We did love the little rosemary shortbread cookies that came on the side.  To make something like them at home, click here.

The best part of the pot de creme was the garnish of caramelized hazelnuts.  The chocolate custard itself was under-flavored and a little runny.   Not worth the calories.  We recommend you pass this by in favor of...

This.  Caramel budino, also known as heaven on a spoon.  With a sprinkling of salt for good measure.  Good thing we ordered two, huh?

Overall, the meal was one of our favorites, and a true bargain at $22 for all three courses.  DineLA definitely came through for the FGs, and we will definitely come back to Fraiche.

FG Final Verdict?  Fraiche is ON the list!
Pricing Information:  The regular menu prices are right in range for a "nice" lunch place:  Starters $8-10, salads & sandwiches $10-15, desserts $8-12.
FG Value Rating:  The dineLA menu was a steal!

* Because we're spoiled that way here in February.  Go ahead, mock away.
** Two reasons.  First, it is in Culver City, which is a schlep from my house.   Second, if I ever do go to Culver City, I proceed immediately to Honey's Kettle Fried Chicken for a combo meal.  I can't help it.  Even after eating this delicious lunch, I dragged the rest of the group down the street to visit Honey's, and FG15 walked out with a family pack for dinner that night.  It's not just me!!
***  The word "Eventually" here should be your clue as a reader that our waitress' pace verged on the glacial.  She had also perfected the fine art of avoiding looking our way whenever we needed something like bread or our check.  Fortunately we were not in a huge rush.
**** For like a minute.  It is a FG lunch, after all, and animated conversation is a big part of what makes these meals so much fun.

Let the chips fall where they may

Like most of the country this afternoon, we were serving an assortment of traditional snack foods.   Doritos.  Guacamole.

Potato chips (Ruffled and BBQ).   Even some relatively healthy red grapes and low-fat Chex Mix.

But unlike 99% of the country, we also had this:

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Dip.

Cookie Dough Dip
Discovered via How Sweet It Is.  According to the group of enormous teenage boys at my house who were scarfing it down, "This is NICE!!!"

1/2 c. (1 stick) butter
1/3 c. brown sugar, packed
1 tsp. vanilla
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
1/2 c. powdered sugar

Add ins:
For chocolate chip cookie dough - 1/2 c. mini chocolate chips
For snickerdoodle cookie dough - 2 Tbs. cinnamon
For peanut butter chocolate chip cookie dough - 1/4 c. peanut butter and 1/2 c. mini chocolate chips
For double chocolate cookie dough - 1/4 c. cocoa powder and 1/2 c. mini chocolate chips

In small saucepan over medium heat, melt butter, then whisk in the brown sugar, stirring until smooth and combined.   Remove from heat and whisk in the vanilla.

Using an electric or stand mixer, beat cream cheese and powdered sugar together until light and fluffy, at least 2 minutes.   Gradually pour in the cooled brown sugar/butter/vanilla mixture.

If using cinnamon, peanut butter, or cocoa powder, go ahead and blend those in with the mixer now.  If using chocolate chips, fold those in by hand.

Can be refrigerated until needed, but bring to room temperature before serving.  Serve with animal crackers, graham crackers, Oreos, apples, pretzels, or just a spoon.  The dip should be creamy and very soft, but will taste just like your favorite cookie dough.    NICE!!!

Click to Print this Recipe!

Almond Joy

In my inbox the week before my daughter's Ancient China Culmination:

-----------------------------------------------------------------

From:  room-mom@yahoo.com

To:  Sharon

Re:  Class Culmination Breakfast Pastry

...can you make one?

xxoo

------------------------------------------------------------------

From:  Sharon

To:  room-mom@yahoo.com

Re:  Class Culmination Breakfast Pastry

Does it have to be a Chinese breakfast pastry?  If so, I am stumped.

xxoo

------------------------------------------------------------------
From:  room-mom@yahoo.com
To:  Sharon
Re:  Class Culmination Breakfast Pastry

Um, yeah.  Maybe breakfast dumplings?

xxoo
------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe not.

Awesome Almond Torte
This can easily be passed off as a Chinese Breakfast Pastry in a pinch

From a recipe provided by the 101 Coffeeshop to the LA Times many years ago.  This cake is melt-in-your-mouth tender, just sweet enough, and redolent of almonds in the best possible way.  One of my very favorite cakes to make.  And to eat.

1/2 c. (1 stick) butter, softened
1 c. sugar
1 (7 oz.) tube of almond paste, grated or cut into small pieces (about 1 cup total)
3 eggs
1/4 tsp. amaretto
1/2 tsp. Triple Sec
1 tps. baking powder
pinch of salt
1 c. flour
powdered sugar, for garnish

Preheat oven to 350.  Using extra butter or non-stick baking spray, grease a 9 inch round baking pan.   Set aside.

Using an electric mixer, cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy, 1 to 2 minutes.  Gradually add almond paste, beating until completely mixed in, with no visible lumps.   Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.  Mix in amaretto and Triple Sec.  Mix baking powder, salt and flour together in a smaller bowl, then add to the butter mixture at low speed, just until combined.

Pour into prepared pan, and bake until lightly browned and cake center springs back when touched, about 35-40 minutes.   Cool in pan for about 10-15 minutes on a baking rack, then invert onto cake rack to cool completely.    The cake may sink a bit in the center as it cools.   That's OK.  This is not a glamorous looking cake, it is scrumptious tasting cake.  All will be forgiven when you bite into it.

When completely cool, dust with powdered sugar and serve in wedges.

My Little Soup Seller

The class had been studying Ancient China for several months:   Inventions*, dynasties, trade routes, language, religion, money, food, customs, art, geography...the works.  

They carved their own abaci and did calculations on command.   They celebrated the newborn Year of the Rabbit with a Golden Dragon parade through every room in the school.  Their own classroom filled with wooden carts, paper lanterns, fortune sticks, instruments, and a Buddhist temple, complete with an improvised gong made from an upside-down mixing bowl.

The study culminated with a full recreation of a 17th century Chinese marketplace, with each child playing a role in a market stall they built and staffed for the day.  They hosted parents, staff, and all the other classes.  Some sold herbs and performed healing touch rituals.  Some would pray for you, or sell you silk. Tea and goldfish, paintings and vegetables could be had.   A musician plied the crowd, as did an acrobat and a match vendor.

My own daughter, transformed for the purposes of this re-enactment, is an orphaned rural farmer eking out a living with her brother.  They travel 10 miles by foot to the market.  She is the Soup Seller.

A few days beforehand, she was the Soup Maker:

Her:  Mom, I need to make some soup.
Me:  OK.  What kind of soup?
Her: (wrinkling up her face)  Old Chinese vegan vegetable soup.
Me:  Ugh.  Who wants a soup made out of old Chinese vegans?
Her:  Very funny.
Me:  So it's the Chinese vegetables that are old?
Her:  MOM!
Me:  Sorry.

She hands me a printout of the recipe, and we gather the supplies.   She conscientiously follows every step, doing it all herself.    Dices tomato.   Sets aside.  Asks if she can use my garlic chopper.  Grates the ginger.   Measures each ingredient.   Makes extra, so she has enough for this test batch, as well as a duplicate set for the "day of the culmination" batch.  Double checks the broth amount.   Adjusts the burners.  Simmers.  Covers.  Allows to cool.  Takes my suggestion to package up the broth and greens separately to do the final step at school.     In the morning, she lets me help her cart the crock pot to the classroom door, then shoos me away so I can't peek.

The following day, we join the other parents strolling through their former classroom, now a packed marketplace full of the sights and sounds of ancient China.  We clutch paper cups of Chinese coins, bargaining for spices and radishes and generally marveling at what our kids have created.   At last, I come to the soup stall.

Me:  One Old Chinese vegan vegetable soup, please!
Her:  Coming right up.  But you have to pay first!

It was worth every penny.

Hpak Gad Keng (Mustard Leaf Soup)
This soup is surprisingly great, just like our day at the marketplace.   It's robust, deeply flavorful, and satisfying, full of that now-celebrated "umami" taste.   And the crisp-tender mustard greens give it a freshness that is the exact opposite of what you'd expect from an Old Chinese vegan vegetable soup.

1 Tbs. vegetable oil
1/4 c. chopped onion
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. minced ginger
1 tomato, diced
1/8 tsp. turmeric
1 tsp. Thai black bean sauce
1 Tbs. soy sauce
6 c. vegetable stock (we used "Better than Bouillon" brand.  Highly recommended!)
3 c. chopped fresh mustard greens

Heat oil over medium heat in a stock pot.  Add onions, garlic and ginger and saute until translucent, 3-4 minutes.   Add tomato and simmer until soft.    Add turmeric, black bean sauce, and soy sauce.  Saute for 2 more minutes, then add the vegetable stock.    Cover and simmer over low heat for 20 minutes.   Raise heat back to medium, and when soup is vigorously simmering, add mustard greens.  Cook for 2 minutes, until green stems are crisp-tender.  Serve immediately.

* Our thanks for the gunpowder, the matches, kites, and the fireworks.  And of course, the flamethrower.

Somebody out there hates me

Yesterday was the very first day of my self-imposed plan to eat (a little!) healthier.   It's a simple plan, really.  Cut out fried foods.  Have fruit for breakfast.  Stop when I'm full.  Skip dessert whenever possible.

No big deal, right?

In my inbox.
Yesterday.

This Chewy Brownie Bundt Cake from How Sweet it Is ... 

...these Brownie Shortbread Bars from Blue Eyed Bakers... 

And this.   Oreo-Stuffed Chocolate Chip Cookies from Buns in My Oven.   

Seriously?
Argh!!!!!

Photos and torture courtesy of Jessica, Abby & Katy, and Karly, respectively.  I did allow myself to bookmark each of these recipes (for the historical record, you understand) and to drool for many minutes while I choked down my kale salad and cried.

The Deep End of the Pool

I rush into the house, drop the car keys onto the table, and run over to my computer to check the evite again.   I am definitely going to be a little late, what with gathering up all the supplies, but it can't be helped.  I head into the garage and start hunting through the shelves.

My husband:  So where are you going without me tonight?
Me:  (mumbling on purpose):  Oh, it's a god *muffled* ss party.  
Him:  What?   I didn't catch that.
Me:  (much more loudly):  Do you know where we keep the little candleholder things?
Him:  No.  Why?
Me:  OK then, can you go outside and pick me a few lemons?  With leaves on them?
Him:  Um, I guess so.  Why do you need leafy lemons?
Me:  Thanks, honey!  


Having found my candle, I throw it into the bag on the counter.  I go back to the evite again.


You are invited to A Goddess Party!  Please bring:

• a favorite dish or drink (it's a potluck)
• an inspirational reading material
• flowers/foliage from around your home
• gently used gift item you love but can't use anymore (may be wrapped)
• photo of loved one(s) and/or crystals
• pillow for your toosh & small wrap/blanket
• candle

Dress comfortably!

Even as I read it for the tenth time, I have to resist the by-now-familiar urge to either run away and hide or to double over with laughter at the absurdity of the whole thing.  Photo of loved ones and/or crystals?  [Pause for effect.  Look out at audience.] "Are those, like, interchangeable in Goddess-land?"  [Crowd roars in appreciation.  I move on to witty riffs on "toosh" and "foliage"].

But, no.  I am not only going to the Goddess Party, I am leaving my cynical, snarky self at home and taking my toosh pillow and poetry off to Calabasas.   I even arm myself with a warm-from-the oven bread pudding as an offering to my fellow Goddesses.

Walking in the door of my friend's home, my fears flare up again.  I don't know a soul, with the exception of my hostess.   The living room floor is covered with different fabrics, scented votives twinkling everywhere.  Baskets full of lavender, rosemary, and birds of paradise form a circle around the candles.  I feel my eyes rolling involuntarily, and have to check myself.  Framed photos nestle in the ring here and there, in front of a variety of pillows clearly meant for all of these strangers and me to sit on.   And do what???  God, please don't let there be chanting.

I stroll into the kitchen, shaking hands and meeting the other guests.  A few are chatting away like old friends, others look almost as nervous as I do. One woman leafs through well-worn paperbacks, dog-earring pages for inspiration at the last minute.  Looking around in vain for a glass of wine*, I begin grazing the appetizer spread in a show of "This isn't weird at all" bravado.

After a few late arrivals, including (hooray) one more familiar face, there are eleven women sitting cross-legged in the candlelit room.  The solemnity of the burning sage ritual** is marred somewhat by us falling into fits of giggles when our leader is outside.  But we compose ourselves and settle down to listen, as one by one, each tells about the people in the photo, about her story, about herself.


The awkwardness vanishes.

A marriage is breaking.  
A relationship is holding on by a thread.  
Cancer has been beaten.  
God has been found.  
A brother has died unforgivably.  
One 89 year old mother refuses to rest, my 71 year old mother refuses to live.  
A grandson shines. 
A younger sister is gone three days after a joyous moment in the sun.
A sibling struggles and a family falls apart.
Lost love returns with a vengeance.  
A husband accepts her unconditionally, and she adores him for it. 
There is the miracle of a son.



And we are, collectively, suddenly, massively grateful to be able to speak these things aloud, without judgement. To women who have their own, different but somehow terribly similar, struggles and triumphs going on, and so understand every word completely.   The unburdening is cathartic, the release intense and unexpected and draining and energizing, all at once.  


A flurry of buoyant support comes back from the group.   Passages and poems and, at the end, voices from all around.   Information and emotion flows around the circle.  We feel we know, a little.  We know enough.

We say to each other:

You are gentle. 
You are kind.
You are a bridge, a path, the glue.
You are infectious.
You are gorgeous.
You are smart and creative and wise.
You are fierce.
You are crazy sexy cool.
You are so strong.  Even when you bend into seemingly impossible shapes, you get stronger.
You are a poetess in disguise.
You are a teacher, a giver, a mother, a muse.
You are a great and true friend.
You are a force of nature.
You are the deep end of the pool.  


We believe each other.   


We blow out the candles, toss our cares into the fireplace***, open up the wine, and eat a pile of delicious food with so much gusto you'd think we'd been starving for weeks.  We do this together.  If not as actual Goddesses****, at least as new-found friends.

Bread Pudding of the Goddesses

Adapted from a recipe in Bon Appetit Magazine

Bread pudding is an incredibly useful tool of the leftover trade.  In this instance, I was able to make this sensational dessert using a package of stale hamburger buns that were just sitting around in my cupboard.  It may well be even better with bread you buy just for the occasion, but I'll never know.  It is NOT a useful tool of the dieting trade.    But it is sublime enough to be worth every calorie.

To line the baking dish:

1 1/2 c. brown sugar

1 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp salt

For the pudding:

About 6-8 cups of bread cubes, preferably from a rich, relatively dense type of bread, such as country french, sourdough, or egg bread*****

A little more than a cup of the add-ins of your choice, optional****** 

1/4 c. butter, melted   

3 c. heavy cream

1 c. whole milk

6 eggs, plus 2 egg yolks

1/3 c. sugar

2 tsp. vanilla extract

generous grating of fresh nutmeg

a couple of pinches of salt

Choose a heavy 9x9 square, round or oval baking dish.   Combine the brown sugar, cinnamon and salt in a small bowl, then spread the mixture into the bottom of the baking dish.   This will magically form a caramel sauce on the bottom of the pudding as it bakes.  YUM!   

Spread a layer of bread cubes on top of the brown sugar.  Sprinkle half of your add-ins (if you are using them, and I hope you are!) on top of the bread.  Cover with another layer of bread cubes, and the rest of your add ins.  The dish should be nicely full but should not have bread above the edges.    Drizzle the melted butter on top of the bread, and set the dish aside.

In a larger bowl, whisk together the cream, the milk, the eggs and egg yolks, the sugar, the vanilla, the nutmeg and the salt until blended and smooth.  Pour the custard over the bread in the dish.  

Cover loosely with plastic wrap, and push down gently to make sure that all the bread is submerged.  If you have a heavy plate handy, set it on top, otherwise stop by occasionally to push the bread back into the custard.   Allow pudding to sit for at least 30 minutes, or put into the fridge for several hours if you like.   If you do that, remove from the fridge and allow to come to room temperature before baking.

Preheat the oven to 350.  Place the pudding into a roasting pan large enough to hold it comfortably, and add enough lukewarm water to come halfway up the sides of the baking dish.   Remove the plastic wrap.  Carefully put the pan into the oven.  Bake until pudding is set, golden brown on top, and a small knife inserted into the center comes out clean...about 1 hour and 15 minutes.  Let cool in the water for 20 minutes.

Spoon bread pudding into dessert bowls, scraping some of the luscious sauce from the bottom of the pan onto each piece.  Top with fresh whipped cream.

Click to Print this recipe!

* Goddess party rules say no alcohol before the ceremony.  You'd think that little piece of info would have been on the invite, but no.
** There really was this branch of burning sage that practically smoked us all out, used for the ceremonial inaugural "smudge" that we all received.   I had to bite my tongue.
*** Literally.  We wrote down seven things we wanted to leave behind us in 2011, then burned the list in my friend's fireplace.
**** I mean, come on.  I may feel a lot better, but I'm still me.

***** You will need enough to fill up your baking dish, so the exact amount may vary.

****** I HIGHLY recommend bittersweet chocolate chips and dried cherries, but you can use raisins or other dried fruit, fresh apples tossed with a little cinnamon, bananas...you name it!

I've been discovered...

...at least by Steph, a fellow FFWD blogger who was kind enough to give a nod to Cheesy Pennies in her list of blogs worth checking out. She's received the same nod herself from several folks, so it's like I was noticed by someone noticeable. Which is extra special.

Thanks, Steph!