forke ave + knife st

wine: the most luxurious libation

2012-01-22T09:02:00.000-08:00

I always knew there was something special about wine. Growing up in my house it was always saved for the Sabbath, particularly Friday nights—and it was always my parents indulging in sweet Muscat. At restaurants I viewed the wine menu like an ignorant child, never really understanding the varieties—other than red, white and bubbly.
So in the past few months I have made a concerted effort to learn about the beauty and complexities of wine. To learn is to experience and with wine, that means tasting. After going to many wine bars, wine classes, tastings, and hanging around Katja—my good friend from Switzerland who is en route to becoming a master sommelier—my palate now acts like a detective. I taste oak, tanins, citrus, red berries, black berries, smoke, roasted coffee and more flavors than I ever deemed possible.
In a class I took yesterday, on the wines of France, there was a moment where I felt like I could unravel the details of the vineyard—imagining how cool the climate was at the time of the harvest and recognizing what fruits grow in the same region, which greatly influences the taste of the wine. The teacher was a real expert sharing the great history and viticulture of each wine, so I'm certain that her lesson boosted my romantic perception a bit.
But when you take a moment to understand the workings of a vineyard and the wine-making process every glass of wine from that point on becomes a story. And as you focus on the flavors and intensity of each sip, well, those are the details that can create an epic novel. A real page-turner might be a fine bottle of Côte-Rôtie, from the Rhône region in France, that you kept in the cellar until it reached its peak so that when you open it, you're not just opening a bottle of red wine, you're unveiling the background of the Syrah grape—it's history, geography and the circumstances it lived in—all of which creates an intricate masterpiece and intimate experience.

Cheers!

restaurant review: yasuda

2011-12-06T14:37:00.000-08:00

Now that I'm in culinary school every dining experience is heightened. I don't eat out often because I can cook nourishing and delicious food on my own. But last Tuesday was one of those special nights—time to explore the culinary world and learn about really special food.
When I was an intern at Saveur I sat in on a demo by the chef at Yasuda. We were publishing an article on nori (seaweed used for sushi rolls) and we had Mr. Yasuda himself come in with a team of Japanese chefs teach the editorial staff about the trade. My eyes were opened to the wonderful world of this artful Japanese cuisine as his translator helped explain the differences of nori and sushi-grade fish. When the translator explained that the nori was from the Ariake sea and the wasabi was flown in across the country, I realized how important freshness and quality was to Mr. Yasuda. And when I tasted the rice balls and sushi rolls, it all became clear. I always understood that the freshness of the fish was key for sushi, but to actually see what Mr. Yasuda takes such pride in gave me a sense for what really is the best. Last week I went to his restaurant and with a more developed palate I was ready for a mouthwatering event...

I walked through the street entrance and another sliding wood and glass door opened automatically. The dining experience is unique from the moment you step in— going through two doors feels like you're going to an exclusive event. I had a reservation at the sushi bar, the perfect place for someone who wants to really see what they are eating. Pristine is the first word that comes to mind when I walked into the cool, yet comfortable restaurant. High speed is the rate at which the sushi chefs so methodically prepare the vibrant pieces of fish. Instead of going with a standard menu, the sushi chef prepared a few different things using only the freshest fish—of course. The textures and flavors were smooth and pure, some of which were beautifully complimented with a brush of a home-made shoyu-based sauce. There was no favorite because everything I ate was balanced, full of character and excellent—from the kanpachi (yellowtail) to the white king salmon. There is no doubt that after just one meal, Yasuda elevated my understanding of this flawless cuisine. I would not hesitate returning to this fine restaurant for such quality and perfection.

mood + food

2011-11-17T20:35:00.000-08:00

In class yesterday Chef Alex explained that one of the key ingredients for a successful business is that the entrepreneur be passionate about what he is doing. Her wisdom continued to coat the conversation with all sorts of inspiring words, which lead the discussion to the subject of creating good food with the right intention. Some say that if one is angry while cooking, then the food will carry on the nature of the chef's attitude and the consumer will begin to hold the same negative energy. The way I like to understand it is that if you're not happy while you cook, your dish will probably be overcooked or under-seasoned (not satisfying)—thereby making the consumer miserable with sub-par food.

the result: carob-frosted almond torte

After our lesson I actually felt and understood what it's like to be enlightened, then Chef Alex opened our eyes to the wonderful world of baking and pastry. She and my peers can certainly vouch for my enthusiasm—not just because I've been on a sugar high—I am simply in my element. Cooking a savory meal always brings me great satisfaction, but when it comes to creating desserts it is the moments of folding, foaming, and frosting that remind me just how wonderful it is to be alive. And being able to share this passion with friends and loved ones makes those moments even sweeter.

So if you must take something from my candid view of this fine art, remember that you should only cook or bake when you sincerely want to. There's nothing worse than a bad meal and poor taste.

banana pancakes

2011-11-01T21:27:00.000-07:00

There are not too many things in life that are better than a wonderful breakfast. Certainly, if you're a staunch cereal consumer breakfast is not so special. Though I must admit I've always had a strange and serious love for plain Cheerios—I don't buy them any more, but passing by that yellow box in the grocery store brings back wonderful memories of indulging in a bowl of the crunchy cereal in bed. Ever since I started making a concerted effort to avoid processed foods (boxed Cheerios being my biggest vice), breakfast was taken to a new level in my kitchen. A French omelette with mushrooms and farro made with almond milk, walnuts and cranberries are two of my favorites. But lately the only breakfast food that I find solace in making—I mean that really makes me feel cozy and elated—on a cold fall morning are banana pancakes (alongside a cup of fresh-roasted coffee, of course).
These rounded disks of fluffy goodness are so easy to whip up and fun to experiment with. I use almond flour, maple syrup (almond flour is rich in protein and maple syrup is a healthful alternative to sugar), and always add some extra vanilla extract. The bananas add a delicate sweetness to the nutty-based pancake and enough moisture to keep my palate at a comfortable place. And if you don't like bananas, try it with chopped apples. Whatever you do, don't even think about substituting butter for anything else when on your the pan. I willingly replaced my boxed breakfast for a tastier and more satisfying comfort of banana pancakes—but this might not have been the case without that delightful butter undertone.

bedford cheese shop

2011-10-09T15:32:00.000-07:00

credit: jordan swartz

After visiting this wonderful cheese shop last week in Williamsburg, Brooklyn I had to go back. I walked in with my dear friend, visiting from Paris, and locked eyes with Dillon—our Cheese guide from last week. I instantly approached him from the other side of the counter and started talking cheese. He remembered me and my (what he says) not-so-silly question about how to properly slice a chunk of fresh cheese so we began talking. Since I don't really know the language, he began teaching me. The learning process is all about the senses, in the food world, and with cheeses it's about tasting and smelling. Joanna, who came in town from Paris—a city with a wide range of cheese shops—was just as excited as I was to be surrounded by the finest cheeses (ranging from the milk of cows, buffalo, sheep and goat, from Italy and France, hard and soft, strong and mild).
The atmosphere in the small shop instantly brings a smile to anyone's face. I'm not surprised that Dillon admitted how much he loves his job, and is thrilled to be in the food industry working with passionate cheese loving people. "Refreshing" is the word he used to describe the environment, compared to the workplace of a Big Business Manhattanite. I don't think anyone can argue with that, especially in a cheese shop as rustic, yet sophisticated, as Bedford.
I'm looking forward to learning more about cheeses with Dillon, next time I make it out to Bedford Street.
Here's a small clip on pasteurized cheeses from last weeks cheese meeting:

Good to know:
People who are lactose intolerant can still eat CHEESE. Milk from buffalo, goat and sheep have very low amounts of lactose in them, so these cheeses are ideal.
The best way to slice cheese for a sandwich—in small flat triangles. Just stack them on your sandwich as you wish.

pure chocolate

2011-10-02T12:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I visited the fantastic Mast Brothers Chocolate factory in Brooklyn. Let's just say that the two brothers are changing lives one chocolate bar at a time.

credit: jordan swartz

Here's how...

Upon entering the factory the smell of chocolate permeated through the air sending me into an instant state of euphoria. The aromas weren't overly sweet, just pure and clean. My peers and I met one of the brothers who pulled off a Brooklyn look with a skinny tie, button down and a killer beard—all while managing to stay lean, despite all of the chocolate he probably consumes. It seemed so organic the way Michael Mast explained how he came into the business—he and his brother love food, particularly beer, bread, wine and chocolate. In between sailing and spending time on the water they began experimenting in their own kitchen...and voila! We then met Rob who gave us a detailed tour. Here's a little clip...

Rob explained that the Mast Brothers order cocoa beans from allover the world—including South America, Africa, and the Dominican Republic. In a special machine the beans are broken down and the nibs are separated from the husks. From there the cocoa nibs go into new machines, which liquify the nibs. After the liquid cools and is left out for (sometimes) a few days, it's goes into machines that temper the chocolate. Sugar is added just before the chocolate is fully tempered and then it is poured into molds, that later sits on a rack to cool. Once the bars are cooled each one is hand wrapped—talk about craftsmanship! The Mast brothers are all about the pureness of the chocolate so there's nothing added to the mix—except for some bars which have almonds, cocoa nibs, fleur de sel crusted on top. Don't be fooled if it sounds simple because chocolate making is a complex process—especially the way these guys do it. The proper ingredients and loving care is indispensable at Mast Brothers, really making their chocolate special.

credit: jordan swartz

Since everything is about quality control tasting is vital. Naturally the folks who work there are super happy and extremely passionate—they listen to good music, eat lots of fabulous chocolate, drink beer (which is kept on tap), and cook family meals everyday for lunch. With that kind of life, how could you not be excited about walking into work everyday?

the most important rule—who would've thought?

2011-10-01T04:43:00.001-07:00

eat with love.
cook with love.
do what you love.
you will be happier and healthier for it.

These were the final words of Chef Celine, post-intensive nutrition/ingredient lecture...

credit: jordan swartz

So when we learned how to properly make baked apples, I took her advice.

Tips for making baked apples:
- Use an apple corer and melon baller to scoop out all of the seeds.
- Score your knife around the circumference of the apple.

Suggested Filling:
- raisins
- walnuts
- red wine
- apple juice

Bake until tender and enjoy!

seasonsal drinking

2011-10-01T04:41:00.000-07:00

Bon Appétit Photograph

Before I started culinary school I was working a bit late in the test-kitchen. After a long day my boss pulled out a few glasses and opened her cabinet to a giant jar of deep burgundy Bachelor's Jam—the best workplace, I know. For those of you who are not familiar, this is an alcoholic beverage sweetened with seasonal fruit, a bit of sugar, and fermented with a spirit of choice. Traditionally you begin with the fruit of season in the spring (strawberries), but the goal is to go to your local green market and add new fruit to your jar as the seasons change. After a few months or so you can begin tasting your "jam", but do not forget to continue adding more fruit and liquid—so don't drink too much.

I am sincere when I say that this was by far the freshest and most flavorful cocktail I've ever had.

Making a Bachelor's Jam is a fabulous kick-start for anyone who is interested, but has not yet begun to support their local green markets.

a new world

2011-09-15T20:51:00.000-07:00

Working in a test-kitchen has its perks, especially when you compare your life to that of a sous chef. You don't need to worry about always wearing gloves, or a hair-net. You don't have to work until the wee hours of the night. You don't have to succumb to 1 am dinners and 3 am drinks. You can still have a life outside of the workplace, but only if you have enough energy at the end of the day.
When I started as a test-kitchen intern, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Standing for at least seven hours a day. No sitting. Perfect posture. Continuously hearing the words "Treviso," "Roux," and "Mise-ing" had me feeling like I was in another world. Turns out I was.

I shan't bore you with silly details like the new skills I learn—unless it's something really exciting like butchering or knife-sharpening. I write to enlighten you with the juicy details in my daily life—in the city and in the kitchen (at Bon Appétit and in culinary school at the Natural Gourmet Institute). Hopefully you'll be craving more.

Happy reading and even better eating!