Vocabulary Lessons from Top Chef

Instead of weekly reviews which clearly I have failed to produce, I have decided to start working on my own "Top Chef" dictionary. Please read carefully. You will be tested on this material.

1. Brunoise: A brunoise is one of the most basic knife skills. Basically you are cutting your food into approximately 1/8th inch cubes. To preform a brunoise one mush first julienne the food, turn it 90 degrees and dice it again to make perfect little squares. Typical items that are brunoised are carrots or parsnips. On Top Chef the contestants brunoised apples. Some of them even started to brunoise their fingers. But not even the threat of stitches would stop them. The power of Tom Colicchio compels you!!

2. Amuse Bouche: This little delight is not an appetizer. In fact, it is not even ordered but rather brought to the table at no charge. One other difference that sets an amuse bouche apart from typical hors d'oeuvre is that it is usually only one bite. According to the Wikipeidia entry it is "literally translated to 'mouth amuser.'" And of course, they are not without a touch of fancy so the chef can showcase his creativity and skills. However, if that is the literal translation then I guess that means that to me, things like Cheetos and chocolate-covered pretzels are also "amuse bouches."

3. Robot Coupe: I added this one only because I always hear them talking about "the robot coupe" ("robot" pronounced "row-bow"). Every time they would say it I had no idea what they were talking about and all I could think of was "Robo Cop." I then couldn't help but wonder if there was some kind of secret kitchen robot that they used who couldn't be seen by the public or something. Turns out it is just a food processor. Lame.

Oh Padma, how I missed your knife dance.

Has Christmas come early for me? Oh, I think it has.

Of course, I have to root for local girl, Jamie Lauren, Executive Chef of Absinthe in San Francisco. Time will tell who will really win my heart but for now, I am back to finish the episode that I Tivoed and HOLY CRAP THEY ARE ABOUT TO ELIMINATE SOMEONE ON THE QUICKFIRE!

Dance for me Padma! Dance I say!

Like drugs, but legal.

I invite you to mosey on over to my good friend Melia's blog, "The Sampler Platter" and read about her Top Five "crack-snacks" as she calls them. I call snacks like the ones she is referring to as "my kryptonite." They are the kind of snacks that are impossible to eat one of and once you have eaten the entire (fill in: bag/box/jug/gallon, here) you don't even feel guilty about it. I would give you a list of my own personal "crack-snacks" but I need to go get a wet-nap and clean all the "#1 snack" from Melia's list off of my keyboard first. Also, I need to go buy another bag of them.

Well hello you delicious little things...

...and where have you been all my life? I discovered these little gems at the grocery store the other day and had to have them. They are called Black Velvet Apricots, a cross between an apricot and a plum, and they are absolutely delightful. After I ate the first one I was trying to think of something creative I could do with the rest of them. This is what I came up with:

1. Eat the remaining three in the same sitting.

OR

2. Use the velvety skins to make myself a fabulous pair of pumps.

Thank God!

As I predicted here in review numero uno, my girl Stephanie is the first female ever to win top chef. I did get a little nervous when Gail Simmons nearly peed her pants over the creamy goodness of Lisa's coconut soup which admittedly, I probably would have drank through a straw, it looked so damn good. And I am always a softie for the person who comes in second. I am horrible to take to sports games: "That was fun, but I feel bad for the other team. Can't we all just win together?" But since life cannot be one giant round of The Ungame and even though I found myself getting verklempt right alongside sweet little "baby on the way" Richard Blaise, in the end there can only be one winner.

So I say thank you, Top Chef for a fun-filled season of braising, encrusting, poaching and of course, knife dancing. Oh, and also, I was right about Stephanie. I like that part too.

Chicago: Thoughts from an aspiring foodie

by Brittaney Meyer

(In honor of "Top Chef: Season 4 Finale, I sent one of my food critics, Brittaney Meyer, to Chicago to review a few local hot spots. Ok, not really. She was going there anyway and it just happened to work out this way. But I am just practicing for one day when I Love Tongs, Inc. takes over the nation much like locusts...or Rachel Ray.)

My husband and I were fortunate enough to find ourselves in Chicago for a few days during the first week of April. I spent the majority of my time observing oral arguments in an Illinois State courthouse (we were there for a law school competition) but I did have a few spare moments to enjoy some amazing food. Heather has been kind enough to post my novice-foodie thoughts here for you all to enjoy.

Forget pizza — go for burgers
I know, I know, Chicago deep dish, blah, blah, blah. I did try some and it was fantastic, but nothing compares to the place where we ate lunch on Friday. Boston Blackie's was reviewed online as the number three spot for lunch in Chicago. Well, numbers one and two must have slept with someone pretty darn important to have out-ranked this place.

Boston Blackie's is located underneath South Michigan Avenue (yes, underneath) on Grand. Once you walk down to Grand you will likely assume that you should head left toward the “downtowny”-looking portion of the street. You would be incorrect. Blackie's is located on a nondescript end of the road in a building that, at first glance, looks like it has burned down — that is until you realize that it is actually just painted matte black on purpose. The inside, however, is quite pleasant. The host was a man in his 60s dressed in a plaid sportcoat and tie. The waiting area was standing-room only and the burgers were HUGE.

If you don’t like burgers, chicken or fish sandwiches, don’t go to Boston Blackie's as this is all they serve. But what the menu lacks in variety, it makes up for in quality. The burgers were fantastic: cooked to order (mine was actually rare, which is, well...rare), juicy and flavorful. Ryan didn’t put anything on his except for the burger, cheese and grilled onions it came with. Again, fantastic. The price? We ordered six burgers, two baskets of onion rings, two pitchers of beer and a soda for $83.00. That included the tip. I could say more but I don’t have to — next time Southwest is offering $59 flights, go for yourself and try it.

Popcorn for the connoisseur
I have been known to go to a movie that I am less than thrilled about because of the popcorn. I am a layered-butter, lots-of-salt girl myself. I will skip lunch so that I can eat more — that is how much I love this stuff.

Lucky for me, Chicago is home to Garrett Popcorn. They have a lot of different flavors, but their most popular is “the mix." The mix consists of half cheese corn and half caramel corn. We had to wait in line for 10 minutes and everyone I heard order ahead of me ordered at least one bag of the mix. Needless to say, I had to try it. I was not disappointed; it was phenomenal. I probably gained five pounds by being near the stuff but it was worth it. You can order online — stop reading and start typing.

Impress your bedfellow, or just someone staying the night at your house, with the juice I had at Yolk
Yolk is a breakfast place with some really great food. However, their juice took the cake. Although simple, their recipe was highly effective: a glass of orange juice with strawberries blended in. I think they used a blender and then dropped a few chopped strawberries in for good measure. I wanted to save it so bad I ended up having half a glass left at the end that I downed in 1.5 seconds of pure morning pleasure. For serious.

I guess the short story is: go to Chicago. Bring a good pair of walking shoes and your fat pants and prepare to be amazed.

"Top Chef" Season 4: Episodes 9 through 13

Let me begin with an explanation: the reason I failed to post any kind of review of the past five episodes is because if I had reviewed them at the time of airing, it would have taken everything in my power not to simply write a string of curses representing the frustration I feel because Lisa has somehow managed to sneak by Judges' Table over these past weeks.

Today's review is no exception to that, and in fact the only way I think I am managing to get through it in a polite and professional manner is the fact that before sitting down to the computer today, I had a lunch which consisted of four cosmopolitans and a Xanax. And quite literally during the ridiculously long pause while I waited to hear Padma say her famous line, I was rocking back and forth on the couch repeating, "Lisa, please pack your knives and go. Lisa, please pack your knives and go," hoping that maybe my chants would somehow enter the TV, deflect off of Tom Colicchio's bald head and straight into Padma's brain.

Since I don't have the time or the the energy, and because I am still recovering from having to say goodbye to Antonia, I have decided to review episodes nine through thirteen in Haiku form. Enjoy:

Episode 9:Wedding Wars
Speed challenge again
At stake, a bride's wedding day
Farewell to Nikki

Episode 10: Serve and Protect
The salmon rolls fail
Unpleasing to tongue and eyes
Like Padma's knife dance.

Episode 11: Restaurant Wars
Team Richard: success
Scary judge, Mr. Bourdain
Butterscotch scallops???

Episode 12: High Steaks
You get it? "High Steaks?"
Like a play on the word "stakes"
So clever, Top Chef

Episode 13: Finale PT 1
Upset at judges
Mad mad mad mad mad mad mad
Lisa can suck it

Table For One

I pretty much cook for one purpose: to share it with others. Of course the added bonus is that food is freaking awesome, but really it's mostly so I can share share that goodness with my friends. Even when it's just Grant, who I cook for almost every night, I still get so much satisfaction knowing that my meal made him happy.

This has made me realize that although cooking is my favorite thing to do when I come home each day, I really despise cooking for just myself. First, when it is Grant and me, I can totally get myself out of the clean-up. I mean, I cooked right? That doesn't work when you are alone. Second, I like to see the happy and satisfied faces sitting around my table while they enjoy my food. When it is just me, there is no one to look at but myself. I mean, I have tried eating in front of the mirror and having a dialogue with myself but it inevitably goes something like this:

Real me: Do you like it?
Mirror me: Oh yeah. This is so good. Is there fresh mint in this?
Real me: Yeah there is. I really thought it would complement the lamb. I'm glad you like them.
Mirror me: Boy, do I ever.
Real me: Thanks.
Mirror me: Sure thing. Hey, you should really do something with our hair. Also that shirt you're wearing makes us look like you ate about 40 of those lamb meatballs.
Real me: Huh?
Mirror me: I'm just saying.

When I'm by myself I'm usually just a slave to whatever's in the pantry and/or freezer. This always ends up being being random and possesses a very "college" vibe. "Well, a tuna sandwich, a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and some frozen corn it is then!"

Sad, I know, but the other day I found myself in this very predicament. Grant was gone for the evening at band practice and I was home to fend for myself. It still amazes me that my ability to be fancy is basically disabled when I am left to cook a meal for myself. It's as though it's the first time I've ever seen a stove and I end up crawling into the fetal position in the corner, with a half-eaten can of tuna under one arm and a jar of mayo in the other, crying, "I don't get it, I don't get it..."

This particular evening, I was slowly meandering around the grocery store, already exhausted from the inevitable mess that I was going to make after preparing my meal for one. And I can do all the arguing I want with Mirror Me, but that lazy bitch just refuses to pick up a sponge!

I knew I had it in me to figure it out though. My plan: fruit salad. Fruit is self-contained and requires no cooking or sauce (I'm not saying that a sweet dressing made with mint, syrup or brown sugar or something would not be fantastic but remember we're minimizing dishes). This particular night I went for simplicity and chose only bananas and strawberries for my salad. I added toasted pecans and a little drizzle of honey to the sliced fruit. It was simple and wonderful as any good salad should be, and clean-up practically took care of itself. Also, Mirror Me loved what that choice did for her waist line.

Grab a spoon

I'm going to regret this next sentence in about 10 years, I'm sure: I have a real problem with "diet" food. I just don't see the point. Okay, let me take that back. I do see the point. In fact, my thighs would really love it if I not only saw the point but acted on it. But I just can't bring myself to buy a microwavable, low-fat meal of grilled chicken, vegetables and brown rice, for example, when I could just make myself some grilled chicken, vegetables and brown rice.

The problem is, though, that I can't just make myself those three simple and healthy things. I may start out with the best of intentions, but inevitably I end up making some kind of butter, lemon and white wine sauce that gets slathered all over the top of everything. And then my thighs look up at me and say, "Damn you and your butter sauce! We shall never see the light of day again!"

But then Nabisco came out with these and I am torn. Based on my prior logic, I don't need the 100-calorie pack of Oreos because in theory, I could just eat two Oreos instead of 50 and call it a day. But let's be real: it is impossible to eat just two Oreos. Also, why would you want to eat only two Oreos?

As a side note here, I know that there have been countless commercials made depicting a child and their grandparent in front of two glasses of milk and a stack of Oreos and each is trying to tell the other about the best way to eat said cookie. I think the "lick it, stick it and dunk" method is quite popular? I wouldn't know because my father told me that the way you eat an Oreo is with a spoon. Yes, that's right. Read and learn:

Take Oreo and separate the chocolate cookies. Using a spoon, scrape the creamy goodness off of the cookie and eat from the spoon. Dunk the scraped-clean cookies one by one into the milk, leaving them there just before the point of breaking off of your pinched fingers and dropping to the bottom of the milk glass. That part took some practice and I recall many a glass of gray, mushy sludge milk.

But Oreos are not "good" for you. They "clog your arteries" and "make you cry when you look in the mirror." Okay, fine, so maybe the 100-calorie packs of the Oreo cookies are a good idea. The problem is the 100-calorie Oreos look and taste nothing like actual Oreos. How unsatisfying. However, the Oreo Candy Bites are delightful. Candy!?! That tastes like Oreos!?! And it is only 100 calories? The only downside is you can't eat them with a spoon...unless of course you pour them over an ice-cream sundae. Shut up, thighs.

Step One: Obtain Chocolate

By Toni Poppe

(Toni claims she doesn't like to cook, but I have yet to eat a meal she's prepared that illustrates this in any way. Sometimes I just don't understand why anyone wouldn't love to cook. In the same way, Toni doesn't understand why everyone doesn't find themselves giddy over things like grammar rules and finding fallacies in argument. Often this leads to the two of us correcting each other: "Toni, that is not a shiffonade." Or "Heather, that's not how you spell 'chiffonade.'" You might think we don't get each other. Couldn't be further from the truth.)

So the thing with me and cooking is that I'm not really a fan. I have no idea what I'm doing on this food blog, but I love Heather and would do anything for her. The adage is "write what you know", not "write what you know the bare minimum about". Unlike Heather and Brittaney, I do not lust after cookware, nor do I find cooking to be a pleasant little challenge between the ingredients, appliances and myself.

When I cook, it's more like controlled chaos. Anyone who's ever tried to carry a conversation, or heaven forbid, lend a hand will soon learn that it's best to let my little whirly dervish pass while hiding safely in the confines of a nearby closet or crawlspace. My husband goes to school most nights, and I miss having him home in the evenings. But honestly, it's probably better for our marriage that he's not there to witness most of the meal preparation. I don't even let the dog in while I'm cooking.

The problem is, I'm not what corporate America would call a "big picture" person. I admire those with vision, but I just don't have a lot of my own. As a kid, I never had an imaginary friend and I hated when adults asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. To me, the more pressing question was "How do you navigate the choppy waters of the 4th grade social scene while simultaneously annoying the hell out of your older brother?" I learned early that the devil is in the details, and as any Catholic school girl might tell you, he is scary and out to get you. So I focused my energies on all of the tiny things that go into being perfect. Bobbed hair with bangs: check. Mostly A's and B's to be smart, but not too smart: check. These have added up to one sentence on my resume: "Organized and efficient, ensuring project success from conceptualization to evaluation."

Great, but cooking requires a set of bifocals that I'm still learning how to use. All of the good cooks I know say that it's all about making everything come out right at the right time. I'm usually so focused on going from step 1 to step 2 on the main dish that I completely forget the fact that I was supposed to make a side, or that I'm also supposed to be preparing something for step 63. As a result, I'm a big believer in one pot meals. This also speaks to my nature as an old person trapped inside a 27 year old's body. I'd really like nothing better than to sit down to a crockpot or cassarole meal; it's all so neat and organized in one dish. When I see my Mom-in-law or Auntie K whip up a 5 course something, or one of my girlfriends invent a recipe on the fly, all while enjoying a nice shot of tequila or some red wine, I am in awe of their powers. They have a vision for the meal and can see it through, when I'm more focused on what we're having for dessert or if the flatware is lined up properly.

It is in that spirit of one mindedness that I offer you a link to a recipe that will not do you wrong. I made this chocolate tart
last weekend, and as I sat with my friends devouring it, I smiled knowing that all of the little details came together this time. The chocolate didn't burn, the crust didn't crumble and the ginger on top was cut precisely and placed in a neat ring. I didn't make an appetizer, the main course, a side or a salad, but in my little corner
of the world, this was all I needed for the perfect meal.

"Top Chef" Season 4: Weeks 4, 5 and 6

Yes, I suck. Moving on.

I think all that needs to be said about week 4 was that I loved, loved, LOVED the film-themed elimination challenge but team Mark and Ryan were robbed! They clearly had the best theme. Come on! A Christmas Story and a meal ode to the giant pack of neighborhood dogs that ruined Christmas dinner, forcing the family to eat Peking Duck, head and all! INGENIOUS!

Week 5. Well this was a sassy little episode was it not? People kicking chairs, Dale grabbing his crotch while yelling at Lisa to further emphasize his problem with her bad attitude -- it was anarchy! Let me give it to you straight: Antonia is my home girl and my number 2 choice to win next to Stephanie but she did have immunity in the elimination challenge and should absolutely have taken a back seat and let Spike and Zoi make whatever dish, soup or otherwise, they wanted. However, she did say she would make the soup if they insisted but strongly cautioned against it. So, go ahead Spike, remove your foot from your perfect pallet and roll back the tape. Regardless, unseasoned food is inexcusable. Goodbye Zoi.

And finally, this week I have to say I was disappointed at the decision at the judges' table. True, the more Ryan spoke about his dish the more annoying he became and no, in no way did a poached pear dessert belong at a tailgate party but at least he took a risk. What risk did Nikki take with a store-bought sausage, pepper and onion hoagie? Not to mention she completely bombed her Quickfire. Fried shrimp and coleslaw? I'm sorry -- is this Top Chef, or is she applying to be a line cook at TGI Friday's? Do I think Ryan was going to make it to the finals? No. But he at least deserved one more shot.

And on the seventh day, God made Greek food.

I have come to realize that Mediterranean food is probably one of my favorite cuisines. It is tied for first place with Mexican food and red wine. Our refrigerator is no longer without a tub of hummus, and it is becoming difficult for me to not put homemade yogurt sauce on everything that I make for dinner.

Typically the best Mediterranean food can be found in the same type of establishment that you find the best Mexican food: a no-frills hole-in-the wall. (Don't worry, I have much higher standards for red wine.)

But holes-in-the-wall aside, I am always down for a little fancy. So you can imagine my excitement when Agora Bistro opened up in downtown Pleasanton.

To start our recent meal, we ordered dolmas, which were basic but delicious. We also shared the arugula salad with beets, red onions and goat cheese. The flavors were simple and clean; just what I look for in a salad.

For dinner Grant ordered the lamb kebobs, which were admittedly a bit under-seasoned but were so tender that they almost literally melted in your mouth. This was so impressive that I soon forgot that they were under-seasoned at all. Lord knows, I am probably just going to add more salt to my meal anyway. I ordered the koftes which were ground beef and lamb patties. They were like little Greek bunless sliders that were perfectly seasoned. After doing everything in my power to not pick up my plate and lick it clean, I said to Grant, "What a perfect amount of food. Not too full, just enough." But don't get me wrong — I would have eaten six or seven more of those things if they had brought them to me.

We ended the meal with an absolutely delicious zabaglione with fresh berries. It was so light and creamy that I completely forgot the fact that it was made with sugar, wine and about 4 million egg yolks. Whatever, the fruit completely cancels out the cholesterol and fat in the dessert anyway, right? Wait, no? It doesn't? Even when you also order a slice of cheesecake to share, too? You know what? Don't judge me.

Bottom line, Agora Bistro is a wonderful addition to downtown and I will definitely be going back. Maybe even within a week of going the first time....again, don't judge me.

"Top Chef" Season 4: Week 3

In general, week three was a disappointment for me. It's still early enough in the season where there's just not enough time to see what everyone makes in the "Quickfire" challenges. This week's challenge: to take the humble taco and turn it into a fine dining experience. I love tacos and would gladly eat them every day for lunch, so I was giddy with excitement to see what everyone would come up with. But with 14 contestants remaining and only 60 minutes of show what do they do? They show the top three tacos, the bottom three tacos and the Mexican guy's taco (didn't find that at all offensive).

In this week's elimination challenge, the chefs had to split into two teams and cater a block party for a Chicago neighborhood. But the exciting twist of this challenge was that instead of hopping in their Toyota Highlanders to do their shopping at Whole Foods Market, they had to go shopping door-to-door in said neighborhood. This could only mean one thing: more time for product placements! On the chefs' little scavenger hunt, they came across some pretty amazing finds, such as KC Masterpiece Barbecue Sauce, Hidden Valley "Spicy" Ranch dressing and Velveeta Cheese. Come on, Top Chef! I mean, I understand that you had to jump into bed with the makers of Gladware but Velveeta!?! Orange colored cheese food!?! That is a new low.

I was torn at Judges' Table and I had no idea which of the two teams was the losing team. One thing is for sure: Andrew needs to serve himself a very large slice of humble pie. Um, this is not "your house," you pretentious ass, and whether or not you go home is not your decision to make. Someone needs to lace his olive oil with Ritalin. And I find it even more annoying that he is actually one of the better chefs.

I honestly think I would be way more likely to bring myself to eat Erik's soggy corn dogs over Nikki's coagulated and dry mac-n-cheese (see aforementioned Velveeta). But in the end, Erik was the best choice for going home; his Quickfires have lacked presence and though he seemed like a likable guy, he just couldn't bring the fancy that I love oh so much. But my girl Stephanie prevailed once again with a berry crisp that looked heavenly. Bet it would have been even better with some Kraft brand Cool Whip™.

"Top Chef" Season 4: Week 2

What a clever little challenge we had this week. The chefs were to cater a party at the Chicago zoo. They were broken up into teams of three and each team was assigned an animal. The challenge was to prepare a menu based on the diet of their assigned animal.

Between the bottom two teams, Team Gorilla and Team Bear, it's difficult for me to decide which of the two was actually the weaker team. On one hand, you have Team Bear, who decided to serve their stuffed mushrooms even though they failed to even taste them before service. (Gail Simmons referred to them as "bear dropping" in appearance. I think Rocco DiSpirito writes her jokes for her).

Then there was Team Gorilla, who I think made a bad move by adding meat to their menu for an animal who has an entirely vegetarian diet. In my opinion, they didn't meet the requirements of the challenge. I mean, what would they have done if a gorilla had come up to their station, eager to eat from a menu designed specifically for him, picked up a plate of Stephanie's seemingly meatless salad only to find out that it was chock-full of crab meat. I can hear it now: "Um excuse me ma'am, is there meat in this?" the gorilla would ask. And after hearing "yes," he would probably ask to speak to the manager, and despite the sincerest of apologies from both the chefs and Ms. Lakshmi, the gorilla would probably still end up throwing his poo at her. How embarrassing for the chefs...and the gorilla.

In the end I think Valerie was a good choice for going home. I know nothing about blinis and when they should or should not be made, but I do think that she was just not tough enough for the title of Top Chef. Plus, she looked just like Rachel Dratch from SNL and I just kept expecting her to get all "Debbie Downer" on us and start talking about the frequency of cross contamination in the kitchen and the number of salmonella deaths per year as a result. Waah-wahhhhhh.

My life is better for it.

By Brittaney Meyer

(Brittaney is my best friend. In all the years we have been friends we have only had one fight which centered around her desire to tour the It's It Factory and a 3-pack of underwear purchased at Target. I don't have time for the full description of the fight but all you really need to know is that I won. Looking back, the randomness of our one fight actually made perfect sense because when Brittaney wants something, as random as it may be, she will not rest until she gets it. This also pertains to her food cravings. Like the time she wanted nothing else to eat besides garlic green beans and tangerine juice. Or the quite lengthy period of time when all she wanted to eat for lunch was a chicken sandwich. Her passion for things makes for a wonderful friendship and some great meals.)


My 27th birthday was the best one yet. You might ask, "How could that be? Did she win a million dollars? Did someone take her on a surprise trip to Rome? Did she meet the love of her life?" No. No... and yes. For my 27th birthday my Mom and Dad gave me a Red Le Creuset French Oven. My life was changed forever on that day.

I had always wanted a Le Creuset but, seeing as $150.00+ is a lot to spend on a cooking item, I put off buying one. And then my mother came across an end-cap at Costco. That small act of making a discount purchase at a warehouse store changed my life forever. I have to admit--I was intimidated by the idea of slow cooking at first. Although I had wanted one for so long I didn't quite know where to start. Should I begin with a staple, like pot roast, or go for something more adventurous? After a couple of weeks of deliberation and some searching on the food channel website I decided on short ribs. They were, if I do say so myself, amazing. I was amazed. The pot was magic. It took ordinary carrots, celery, onions and beef and turned it into something that was so much... more. I was hooked. Since that day I have used my Le Creuset three to four nights a week. I think I'm on my way to being 300 pounds but I just can't go back. This is the best part: You can make something that you normally would make in a skillet or a regular, run of the mill, stainless steel pot and, by the magic hands of the slow cooking gods, it just comes out BETTER. Take spaghetti sauce for instance. I use to do your normal thing--take some ground beef, add a jar of sauce, some extra vegetables to make it a little "fancy" and call it a day. Occasionally, I would add a couple of garlic cloves or a splash of wine. Same old; same old. But then it hit me--what about slow cooked spaghetti sauce? Would it be better? Of course it would. This is what I did:

1. Cut a pot roast into large chunks and season with salt and pepper.
2. Add a little olive oil to the Le Creuset and brown all sides of the meat.
3. Move the meat to the sides and pour your cut, "fancy" vegetables into the middle of the pot.
4. Brown for 5 minutes.
5. Pour in one jar of sauce, half a jar of water, 1 cup of wine, 2 bay leaves and 3 sprigs fresh thyme.
6. Simmer for 1 1/2 - 2 hours.
7. Remove meat, shred, add back to sauce and serve.

That's it! The prep time was exactly the same! With the exception of the simmering time (during which I watched episodes of Big Love and folded laundry) nothing was that much different. However, the end results were phenomenal. People actually thought I made the sauce from scratch. Eat your heart out Sandra Lee. I'm telling you, if you know what is good for you, and you want to impress those that dine with you, buy a Le Creuset and start cooking. Slow is the way to go baby.

Top Chef Season 4: Week 1

So here is my question: Were Zoi and Jennifer legitimately two of the most qualified chefs in the nation to apply for the show or is Chef Colicchio just hoping that there would be some girl-on-girl action that somehow involved aprons, high heels and truffle oil? Right now, I am doubtful that the first choice is the likelier one.

Furthermore, Andrew, you are not a tough guy just because every other word out of your mouth rhymes with "rubber trucker." You had best keep your attitude in check or you're going to get your ass handed to you, braised in a port and black cherry reduction, served on a bed of field greens.

And I am not sure what was worse, Ryan's shake-n-bake chicken piccata or Rocco DiSpirito's hilarious comment about him and his dish: "Let's just say that the gnocchi was not the only thing that was dense!" I mean come one! With more zingers like that one, this is "cooking up" to be a "tasty" season. (See how I did that there?)

To sum up, I believe that Nimma was the best choice for going home. Over-salting a meal is an inexcusable offense, and calling her failed flan a "cauliflower scramble" does not make it look any less like barf on a plate.

My current favorite to win: Stephanie. More than the fact that she was able to impress Anthony Bourdain with her Duck a L'Orange, but because she seems sincere, not to mention very talented in an entirely unpretentious way. Those are the kind of people I root for.

You can read more about the "Top Chef" Season 4...um..."Cheftestants" here.

Utensils down, hands up!

March 12, baby! The suspense is killing me!

I am going to try to promise weekly reviews if possible so get excited.

Served from 7am-10am

I would not say that our standards are very high when it comes to picking hotels when we travel. It comes down to a basic few criteria that we are looking for:

1. Is it under $100 per night?
2. Does it at least appear to have been cleaned?
3. Is there a bed?

When all of three are met, we book it. In my mind, we spend the least amount of time in the hotel when we are on a trip and I would much rather spend my money on things like delicious meals, fancy gourmet mustards or yet another perfect pair of shoes. (This last trip, they were houndstooth flats, with a bow! Impossible to pass up.)

Sometimes, we get lucky are able to meet all three of our hotel must-haves and we get some added bonuses. But really, things like HBO and a pool are lost on Grant and me since I a) Netflix anything I want to watch from HBO anyway and b) choose not to be seen in public in a bathing suit. Regardless, when we book a hotel that offers these features, our eyes still light up as we excitedly say to the other, "Oooo, they have HBO and a pool!"

I don't quite get it either.

However, there is one added amenity that we will utilize: Free Continental Breakfast. It is the only time ever in the world of food that a pre-packaged butter horn can taste good.

We have had many different experiences with continental breakfast. On our honeymoon in Italy, despite having some very obvious perks, overall it was an odd free-dining experience to say the least. One of those perks for sure was an actual person hovering around the dining area at the ready to make you a fresh cappucino on demand. The other was the single servings of Nutella to spread on toast. Um, yes please!

What I had trouble with were the strange platters of mystery lunch meats and strange cheeses wrapped in foil. For me, things like that just don't go well with my cereal and OJ.

Hands down, the best continental breakfast we ever had was at the Embassy Suites in San Luis Obispo a few years ago. First of all it was a full hot breakfast buffet. Also, it was more than just free – Grant and I did not even stay the night there. My brother-in-law and his family stayed there and Grant and I just happened to find our way to a table with a plate full of food and no one happened to check room keys. Was it wrong? Probably. But on that particular trip our hotel of choice missed the above mentioned marks, if you will. In fact, when we checked into our room I actually asked this question aloud: "Why is the carpet moist?" We deserved that breakfast, stolen or otherwise.

On our most recent trip to SLO, our breakfast experience was fairly standard. Two kinds of cereal, a bowl full of hard boiled eggs, room temperature OJ and a variety of toasts and jams. The only significance being that at this particular breakfast I tried orange marmalade for the first time and it was delightful. In fact, at one point during the consumption of my newly discovered favorite way to eat toast, I think I blacked out for a moment while I dreamed of all the other things that would taste good with some orange marmalade slathered on top: shortbread cookies, pork chops, or my spoon. I also imagined how much more delicious it would have been on the toast combined with one of those individual packets of Nutella from Italy and a fresh cappucino.

Throw in a butter horn, HBO and a pool and you're really talkin'.

"I'm sorry sir, but it appears your wife has a case of the dumplings."

I'm not sure what came over me in the days leading up to the chicken and dumplings. Perhaps it was the cold and rainy weather, or perhaps I felt the need to revert back to a simpler time. Whatever it was, I had an unexplainable desire to tie back my hair in a perfectly tight bun, put on a frilly blue gingham apron, light a fire in the cast-iron oven and make me and the mister a nice supper of chicken and dumplings.

When I proposed the idea to Grant, he seemed less elated than I was, and rather confused. In fact, he asked, "And what are those?"

WHAT?!?! I was at a loss for words. It's like stew with chicken...veggies and...chicken and stew with carrots...onions..and, I mean, it's chicken and dumplings and needs no explanation!!!

So now they had to be made, and they had to be made immediately.

I adapted my recipe from here and here and of course a little help from the memories of my mama's recipe (unfortunately, there is not a hyperlink to my brain).

The stew

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
approx 1/3 cup flour plus 1 tablespoon of flour
3-4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut in chunks
3 celery stalks, cleaned and chopped
1 large Russet potato, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
2 parsnips, peeled and chopped
1 onion, chopped
3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon chopped Italian parsley
several sprigs of fresh thyme and rosemary
salt and pepper to taste

The dumplings (Can you make them from scratch? Sure. But God gave us Bisquick so why mess with this heavenly gift?)

Bisquick
milk

Cut chicken into large chunks and dredge in the 1/3 cup of flour that is seasoned with salt and pepper.

Over medium high heat, in a large stock pot melt 1 tablespoon of butter with 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Brown the chicken about 3 minutes on each side. Remove from the pot and set aside.

Add the chopped onion and cook until translucent (about 1-2 minutes). Add the remaining chopped vegetables (carrots, celery, potato and parsnips), season with salt, pepper and about a tablespoon each of chopped thyme and rosemary. Cook about 5 minutes more, stirring frequently.

Add the remaining tablespoon of butter to the veggies and stir until completely melted. Once melted, add an additional tablespoon of flour and stir until all the veggies are coated evenly. Slowly stir in the chicken broth. Add the chicken back into the stew and bring to a boil.

In the meantime, make the biscuits according to the box. However, make them fabulous by adding some freshly ground black pepper, the additional tablespoon of parsley, teaspoon of thyme and rosemary. (I never said you couldn't improve upon the work of God.)

Reduce the stew to a simmer. Evenly space spoonfuls of dough on top of the stew (about an inch apart). According to the directions on the box, simmer the stew with the dumplings uncovered for 10 minutes, cover the pot and simmer for 10 minutes more. Personally, I would go just shy of 10 minutes each time, maybe 7-8 minutes but watch the dumplings and you will be able to tell when they are done.

Serve pipin' hot in a low soup bowl and, as much as you will want to, please resist eating them directly out of the stockpot.



Home-cookin' good!

Thank God for Ina

By Grant Shellen

(Grant is great at a lot of things. He is a great musician and a great writer. What I think he is the best at is being my husband. Recent events have proven that he can find his way around a kitchen quite well. Let the battle at Shellen Kitchen Stadium begin!)

Last Wednesday morning, Heather embarked on a nearly weeklong stay on our living room couch. She just recently started working out again, possibly because she's jealous of my guns. So while she thought the gym was her friend, it laid her out for the better part of six days, including over a long weekend. I don't know about your friends, but if any of mine knocked me out for a week, they would be off the Chanukah card list for shizzle.

I was fortunate enough to be able to come home early and help my dear wife do difficult things like stand up, sit down, get up off the floor after unsuccessful attempts to do either of the previous actions, etc. (Side note: As proof of her love of her favorite utensil, she used a pair of long-handled OXO nonstick tongs to help her reach things that would have otherwise required bending.) This was my duty as a husband, and of course my immediate concern was for Heather's health, happiness and well-being. Until about 6 p.m., when my concern shifted to what I was going to eat for dinner.

It's not that I can't cook, it's just that I don't. I used to, in college. Nothing fancy, but much better than my roommate, who mostly consumed food from the 99-cent menu at Carl's, Jr. and frequently complained of "ass burn." I believe there is a correlation between these two facts.

I'd love the opportunity to cook more regularly, but Heather is the default cook because she:

a) usually gets home a good hour before me, and
b) watches more Food Network than is probably healthy.

So when the dinner hunger pangs started to hit, I volunteered my services. I could tell that Heather was slightly concerned, mostly because she kept saying, "I'm concerned."

But it turned out fine. I donned my TiVo apron and made Ina Garten's Chicken with Herbed Goat Cheese, and I'll be darned if it wasn't downright delicious.

After a subsequent night of takeout, I took another stab at an Ina recipe, her version of a Croque Monsieur. This one was slightly more challenging.

"It has a Béchamel sauce," she said on the phone to our sister-in-law Allison, with an obviously anxious, troubled tone. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

The sandwiches turned out great, and I felt even more confident in my cooking abilities. Heather's feeling better now, and is back at the burners. But maybe I'll try to edge my way into the kitchen a little more frequently now. I can just hear the phone calls then:

"He has to brown the butter," she'll say, the quiver in her voice just barely detectable. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Ensalada de Arugula

I had some help with dinner tonight. Homemade tamales to be exact. I say I was helped because the tamales were not "in my home" made. I would rather leave that kind of art up to a master.

Which master? My co-worker's mother, who is probably a better cook then I will ever be. Not because she tries to be, but because she was born to do it — one of the best kinds of chef in my opinion.

What I did make was this salad:



The spicy arugula with the sweet corn and peppers all happily married together with a cilantro-lime vinaigrette. ¡Muy delicioso!

Arugula Salad with Cilanto-Lime Vinaigrette

Salad:
arugula
red bell pepper, chopped
corn(fresh or frozen, just defrost)
small can of sliced olives (I guess you can omit this but I love these things. Call me nostalgic I guess. You know, eating them off your fingers from a crudite platter at your Aunt Linda's? Come on!)
crumbled chevre (goat cheese)
chopped cilantro for garnish

Vinaigrette:
a good handful of fresh cilantro leaves
1 clove of garlic (or more if you so desire)
about 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon cumin
the zest and juice of 1/2 a lime
olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Put cilantro, garlic, cumin, salt, pepper, lime juice and zest in a food processor. With the processor on, stream olive oil into the mixture until the dressing comes together, (about 1/4 cup). Pour over salad and toss together.