a locavore's valentine's day

ORANGE ALMOND TORTE WITH ORANGE SAUCE AND MARSALA CREAM


This year, cowboy and I challenged each other to a locavore's Valentine's Day.

Rules:
All ingredients to come from within a 50 mile radius of either San Jose or Oakland (yes, we gained about 40 miles in the N-S direction that way). Existing pantry items like salt, black pepper, and flour were allowed ("anything that wouldn't be called out in a menu description").

We split up the meal so that he was responsible for entree and I for salad and dessert. Beverage duty was shared.

Menu:
My ideal salads happen in the summer and fall - heirloom tomatoes and burrata...persimmon and prosciutto. Using my handy fruit and vegetable seasonality calendars from the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, I opted for a still unique - but more Bay Area winter-appropriate - selection:
Lacinato Kale and Ricotta Salata Salad from Gourmet

For dessert, there would be no cute chocolate cupcakes - no cacao trees nearby. I would have to take advantage of what we do have - citrus, nuts, and dairy:
Orange Almond Torte with Orange Sauce and Marsala Cream from Bon Appetit

And finally for drink, while there are certainly plenty of wines to choose from, I had always been intrigued by a certain distillery down in Alameda and its outstanding vodkas:
Kaffir Lime Vodka Gimlet from Hangar One

Shopping:
Trip 1: Berkeley Whole Foods Market. Friday night.
I actually thought I had done such a good job planning my menu that I could just hit up Whole Foods for everything I needed. 1.5 hours later, I had successfully gathered only shallots, butter (Clover Organic, Sonoma County), heavy cream (also Clover), and eggs (Judy's Family Farm, Petaluma). Almonds were unlabeled. Ricotta Salata was from Italy (the cheese guy did not seem amused by my challenge). Limes were from Mexico.

Trip 2: Oakland Grand Lake Farmer's Market. Saturday morning.
This is a pretty big farmer's market, bigger than downtown Berkeley anyhow. I started by circling the market, striking up conversation with the growers. "Where is your farm?" "Outside Fresno." "Where's that?" "Three to four hours." "More than 50 miles?" "More than 50 miles."

I picked up kale from Watsonville (50 mi from San Jose). I discovered Spring Hill Jersey Cheese (Petaluma), and its fantastic pepperjack goat cheese, which substituted just fine for ricotta salata. A kind almond grower from Fresno pointed me towards a Modesto almond farm (closer - around 80 miles - and good enough). Just outside Modesto was also the closest I could get for oranges and ginger. Most of the farmers nodded when I told them what I was doing - I was not the first they'd seen attempt this. Most agreed that 50 miles was ambitious.

Trip 3: Emeryville BevMo. Saturday afternoon.
Aside from picking up my local Hangar One Kaffir Lime Vodka, I also bought marsala wine (to flavor the whipped cream for the cake) and limes at my last stop. (Confession: totally cheated on these items, as the wine was from Italy and the limes probably from Mexico...)

Meal:
We ate excellently. Cowboy won points for buying a free-range chicken from Olivera Egg Ranch (and poultry house) in San Jose, which he roasted with locally grown turnips, carrots, onions, and potatoes.

cowboy ciao

the stetson chopped


The other night I was feeling the need to bring some excitement into my regular salad repertoire - something new and different - when I came across this recipe from epicurious.com. Not only did the combination of pepitas, currants, arugula, avocado, couscous , and chicken sound fabulous, but the recipe had also received an average of four fork ratings, with 92% of reviewers claiming that they would make the recipe again. As a veteran user of epicurious (and market research data), I knew that this pretty much guaranteed that I would not be screwing up the dish at the culinary equivalent of 95% statistical significance.

Later on, as I was perusing the recipe in the kitchen, I realized that this dish had actually come from a restaurant called Cowboy Ciao in Scottsdale, Arizona, and that the salad was originally called "the Stetson Chopped".

First of all, I am definitely one to appreciate cute names. The fact that I was going to be sharing the meal with a cowboy software engineer made it even more interesting.

A week later, as I was catching up on my impressive stack of Wine Spectator back issues, I got to the annual Dining Guide (August 2006). Lo and behold, Cowboy Ciao, with a rating of two wine glasses (i.e. the "Best of"Award of Excellence) for its 2900 wine selections! (For context, Thomas Keller's The French Laundry also has two, while Daniel Boulud's Daniel in NYC has three).

Needless to say, I've checked - it's about an 11.5 hour drive from San Francisco (that's about 4x the farthest I have ever driven for food - see my previous post on the best pizza east of the Mississippi). Though I'm not sure if that will stop me. There'll be a right time and place. And when that comes, I'm going to order the Big Biceps Salad and a bottle of that Bründlmayer grüner veltliner.

happy pork-chops-and-ice-cream-cake to you

COFFEE ALMOND ICE-CREAM CAKE WITH DARK CHOCOLATE SAUCE


I turn my first quarter-century next week, and have started to wonder if this is that year when it will become increasingly less fun to welcome the arrival of any subsequent years.

That aside, I still have no problem making a big deal of other people's birthdays. My dad's was at the end of April, and we decided to cook for the family instead of risk another mediocre meal at one of Boston's many generic, overpriced restaurants (no, I am not jaded by the restaurant scene in this fine city of culinary magnificence).

It is not easy for my dad (I call him Baba) and me to share a kitchen. "I am the best chef," my dad will periodically remind me, whether he is surveying the steak he scored at Whole Foods, tasting a spoonful of his seafood soup, or pouring himself a Sam Adams. "Really. I am."

"Whatever."

I like to create drama in the kitchen when I am cooking with Baba. "GET OUT OF MY WAY!! I NEED THE STOVE!!! arghhh...MOVE!" It's more interesting this way. My dad's too zen, and he spends 80% of his "active cooking time" on the couch, watching golf. Meanwhile, I am zigzagging, juggling my time between prepping veggies, mincing garlic, reducing sauces, rolling out and freezing dough, marinating meats, toasting almonds (I always burn the stupid almonds - arg)....it's just not fair.

For his own birthday dinner last weekend, Baba prepared pan-fried pork chops (Taiwanese-style) and miso-baked salmon. I took care of salad and dessert. Yes, yes, I know - it seems unfairly balanced, but honestly, I spent way longer preparing my two courses. Pathetic, I know. (And Baba washed the salad greens, too.)

BABA'S TAIWAN-STYLE PORK CHOPS


We composed our salad around a base of sliced honeydew melon and prosciutto, cushioned with frisee and arugula (my dad's favorites, after a particularly good experience at Lumiere in West Newton, MA). I topped the greens with blueberries and candied sliced almonds, then dressed everything with a blend of chili sesame oil, olive oil, cider vinegar, sugar, and toasted sesame seeds. The result was a satisfying mix of spicyness from the dressing and sweetness from the fruits and nuts. (I know it's overkill to post three photos for the separate steps I took in preparing the salad, but I happen to like the photos I took.)

BEGINNING WITH PROSCIUTTO & MELON...


...THEN TOSSING WITH CANDIED ALMONDS AND GREENS


SALAD OF PROSCIUTTO, MELON, & FRESH BLUEBERRIES
on a bed of frisee and arugula with toasted almonds and chili-sesame vinaigrette


For dessert, I attempted my first-ever ice cream cake. Despite its 4 layers, it was extremely easy to prepare (though if you try it, budget for at least a half-day, to allow for ample freezing time). I followed a recipe orginally printed in Gourmet in 1991. A springform pan is a must.

Coffee Almond Ice Cream Cake with Dark Chocolate Sauce
1 1/2 cups fine chocolate wafer crumbs (couldn't find any - I used Oreos)
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, melted
1 1/2 pints coffee ice cream, softened slightly
1 1/2 cups well-chilled heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups crushed amaretti (Italian almond macaroons, though I used crushed biscotti)
1/2 cup sliced almonds, toasted

For the dark chocolate sauce:
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
2/3 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
4 ounces fine-quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped
3 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, softened
3 to 4 tablespoons Amaretto, or to taste (I substituted with Bailey's)

To make the cake:
In a bowl with a fork stir together the crumbs and the butter until the mixture is combined well, pat the mixture onto the bottom and 1 inch up the side of a lightly oiled 8-inch springform pan, 2 1/2 inches deep, and freeze the crust for 30 minutes, or until it is firm. Spread the ice cream evenly on the crust and return the pan to the freeze for 30 minutes, or until the ice cream is firm. In a bowl with an electric mixer beat the cream with the vanilla until it holds stiff peaks (do not overbeat!), fold in the amaretti thoroughly, and spread the mixture over the ice cream. Smooth the top of the cake, sprinkle it with the almonds, and freeze the cake for 30 to 45 minutes, or until the top is firm. Freeze the cake, covered with plastic wrap and foil, for at least 4 hours or overnight. Just before serving, wrap a warm dampened kitchen towel around the side of the pan, remove the side, and transfer the cake to a serving plate. Cut the cake into wedges with a knife dipped in hot water and serve it with the chocolate sauce.

To make the sauce:
In a small heavy saucepan combine the cream and the brown sugar, bring the mixture to a boil over moderately high heat, whisking occasionally, and boil it, whisking, until the brown sugar is dissolved. Remove the pan from the heat and add the chocolates, whisking until they are melted. Whisk in the butter and the Amaretto, whisking until the sauce is smooth, and let the sauce cool slightly. The chocolate sauce may be made 1 week in advance and kept covered and chilled. Reheat the chocolate sauce over very low heat, stirring occasionally, until it is warm.


I can't wait for my dad's birthday next year.