Bear Foot In The Kitchen

During the week I don't devote much of my morning time to breakfast. Sleep and reading the news usually takes precedence. On weekends I celebrate the morning on its own terms. Recently, I felt that such a morning demanded focus on one of my favorite honeys, which I pushed to a showcase position.

Breakfast: poached eggs with sea salt and black pepper over baby spinach, whole-wheat toast with butter and Bear Foot creamed chai honey, paired with black coffee.

Since visiting the Santa Rosa Harvest Fair '09 I've had a special love for chai-infused honey. Bear Foot's was not my first, but it's worth close attention. Observe:




















Bear Foot's creamed chai honey is a delightful blend of sweet and spices for those who love cinnamon toast, but would be interested in taking things to the next level.

On the whole, the company's operation is pretty remarkable. Everything is delicious, but their devotion to unique, artisan honey is the essence of Low-Hanging Fruit. For Christmas, I gave jars of their Raw Knap Fire and Raw Mint-Thistle honeys. I would have given the chai, but it was sold out in even the smallest of quantities. These two honeys are beautiful freaks of nature. They are born of wildfire, and the serendipitous consummation of otherwise strange pollens. They literally will never be tasted again in quite the same way.

I have a bad habit of saving things and never using them. I used to horde Halloween candy until it spoiled. I've saved honey until it turned to crystal. The lesson I can learn from Bear Foot honey is that if something goes unused, it loses whatever wonderful potential it had. You have to break the jar's seal to enjoy its contents, and even if something you love is, by its nature, limited, something else will surely come along. Enjoy life's fruits while they're ripe, and more will come in time.

Gnawin's, Part 1

A few weeks ago I set out to Louisiana with little notice and only the vaguest notions of where I would wind up. The lucky thing is I've received numerous suggestions from some of the natives on where to go and what to eat in New Orleans. I was excited, but really had no idea of how hard I would fall for this town. Despite the usual expectations that surround the infamous Bourbon Street, I enjoy the casual, upbeat atmosphere around the French Quarter. I could easily spend a week or two here, eating the city, if my trip allowed it. Unfortunately due to my schedule I've had to make some hard choices about where to spend my time. So I've opted to seek out the best.

Last Saturday night I dropped into the Bourbon House. They pride themselves on delicious seafood and a broad selection of choice bourbon. Work had me in the mood to treat myself, so I knew this dinner would be no-holds-barred.

Appetizer:

Raw oysters on the half-shell, bourbon and soda.

What do I really need to say here? Rich, tasty morsels from beneath the waves, with sides of ketchup, horseradish, and lemon, with Tabasco at the bar. You either love them, or you're eating somewhere else.

Main Course:

Seafood Boulibase.

Shrimp, squid, mussels, and scallops mingling with creole tomatoes in a lovely saffron broth. I usually try not to make a big scene while I'm peeling my shrimp, but this is honestly wonderful stuff.

Dessert:

Chocolate-stuffed bread pudding, Eagle Rare 10-year bourbon neat.

This finisher had me floored. A layer of rich, dark chocolate nestles itself into the syrupy pastry. The Eagle Rare was the restaurant's bourbon of the month, and it's warm strength helped open up my taste buds even wider. I could easily forgive being served this in a foam take-out box; I think it was late and the dishwasher wanted to go home.

Aram's Cafe

FOOD ALERT!!! I'm issuing an immediate alert to everyone who enjoys good food. Aram's Cafe in Petaluma offers a delightful variety of Mediterranean and Armenian specialties, enough for three healthy, hearty meals a day, nestled in a cozy cafe setting in the heart of downtown Petaluma. The bad news is despite these charms, Aram's is on the verge of closing down. This is not a matter if "if," but "how soon." I'm ashamed that I let this fruit whither on the vine when I should have been savoring it through all seasons, and I worry that this rich cultural niche may be left unfulfilled for a while, at least to the same level of quality and care.

Appetizer:

Falafel, baba ganoush, hummus, and dolma.

Main course:

Lamb shawarma

Dessert:
"Bird's nest" baklava with pistachio, lemon cheesecake

I'll admit, the shawarma is a bit of a safe choice, but delicious nonetheless. Aram's menu, full of lamb, eggplant, and pomegranate chicken has enough intriguing choices for anyone. I'm looking forward to this Saturday, when I'll return for their weekend brunch as a pre-game to the Petaluma Farmer's Market.

Ferry Building Farmer's Market/A Springtime Lunch Tour

Last Thursday I was in Alameda on business, and I decided to call up Molly Mayhem for a lunch companion (always a good idea.) She guided me to the Ferry Building Plaza Farmer's Market, and its broad variety of treats. We got a burger with some very special sauce, Korean tacos (grilled beef, kimchee, rice, and shrimp in a nori wrap,) and...okonomiyaki.


Okonomiyaki is sometimes referred to in the west as Japanese pizza. It hit me a little more like stuffed crepes. The name loosely translates to "whatever you like, grilled." This food riot you see balanced on my knees is filled with kimchee and covered with onions, soy sauce, and mayonnaise, and it was delicious. Carving into it with chopsticks is a struggle, but however you get this into your mouth, it's worth it.

Fortified for the afternoon, we did some running around for groceries. Molly brought us to a specialty store where I was lucky enough to find a snack I'd been seeking for a while: raw chocolate. As I'd read, the concept behind raw chocolate is that minimally processed cacao in high density is a great health food. Here the focus is not so much on the flavor but the nutrition in raw chocolate.

This is just such a chocolate bar, the Righteously Raw Goji Cacao Bar. The slim, rectangular bar is 90% raw cacao solids encasing a patty of thick goji berry paste. You read me right: 90% cacao solids. Snapping off the first bite, the bitterness of the chocolate is...significant. Pronounced. I think it dried out my tongue a bit. The bar's label declares no refined sugar and I believe it completely. I struggled through it with little comfort from 8 amino acids, 21 trace minerals, and immune-stimulating polysaccharides. This was a unique, healthy experience that I doubt I'll revisit.

Ending the day, Molly taught me how to poach an egg before sending me home with some fresh local spinach and sweet potatoes, and a couple wedges of cheese. For better presentation, I have included one of those cheeses in a salami sandwich:


Molly pointed out the distinct grassy flavor of this cheese, and she was dead-on. The grass cheese (forgot its real name) isn't exactly like faceplanting in a meadow, but there is a hint of vegetation, and it's actually quite pleasant. At room temperature the stuff spreads like butter, and I like to imagine that it's how the cow would have intended:

"It should taste just as it came from the Earth, moo."

Tequila

It's no mystery that smells have a powerful effect on the brain, quickly bringing back memories. Last night, at another tasting dinner put together by Myrtlewood Liquors, the smell of fine tequila took me over. From 2005 to 2009 I spent about half my time traveling, and much of that was around Central and South America: Panama, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Colombia, Guatemala, Mexico, Dominican Republic, and Honduras all stamped my passport. The bars in that area tend to share a few characteristics, like spicy grilled meats, outdoor carts selling ice cream and bags of chili-spiced mango slices, cilantro-spiked seafood, and wooden tables seasoned over the years with dribbles of lime juice and tequila. Even a blonde-haired gringo can triple the quality of his service just by stringing together a coherent sentence in Spanish.

Tequila took me back to just such a place, those hot beaches, those alleyway bars, those carnitas y tostones. Three distilleries, three varieties each: Corazón, Pepe Zevada, and Tequila Ocho; blanco, reposado, and añejo. Dejame a mostrarlas.

First course:
Avocado and Mango Salad with Toasted Pumpkin Seeds and Crumbled Queso Fresco.

This simple, no nonsense salad was a cool starter. Balance it right on your fork and each bite cuts a broad swath of textures and flavors, from creamy to crunchy, salty and sweet. It paired nicely with our blancos. I especially liked the full, sweet flavor of the Tequila Ocho Plata '08.

Second Course:
Ceviche Mixto.

Once again, I was thrown deeply back into my Latin American travels. I hadn't eaten a ceviche in about a year. I had it first in...I want to say Panama, but it could have been Ecuador. Here we have squid, scallops, onion, tomato, and cilantro, in tomato juice. Every ceviche is different, and there will be regional preferences wherever you go. I prefer mine heavier on the citrus, but this was still pretty good.

This course rounded out the blancos, and took us well into the reposados, my favorite of which being the Pepe Zevada. I loved the sweet, fruity aroma of grape, apple, and sugar; the Z just opened up with big, bright flavor, like ripe summer fruits and flowers, finishing with a mild spice. I may have been the oddball of my table, but Pepe Z was my distillery of the night, and this was my favorite tequila. It may not be straight-up traditional, and I wouldn't reach for it to make margaritas, but if I were back at the hotel gardens in Santa Rosa, watching the boaters on Lago Atitlan, this is the tequila I'd sip on.

Main Course:

Spiced and Skewered Chicken over Cabbage Cole Slaw.

These skewers came with the 19-month aged Pepe Zevada Añejo. I was lured in with a sweet vanilla aroma, and then given a nice little spank from this surprisingly forward and spicy tequila. It finishes with a lingering warmth, nicely complimenting the chicken. This was followed by the Tequila Ocho Añejo: with a more classic "tequila" aroma, the Ocho's bold, fruity flavor really made it stand out.

Dessert:


Roasted Plantains with Goat's Milk Caramel.

A perfect menu selection. Plantains are a classic Mexican dessert, one that I first found in Guatemala. I've tried to make them myself a couple times, and it takes some effort to get the starchiness out of the plantain and make it into something palatable (hint: it's not a banana, so don't treat it like one.) This came with a shot of Reserva del Señor Almendrado, an almond-infused dessert tequila, sort of like Amaretto. The rich, syrupy taste of cherry and chocolate was just decadent. I drank some, and poured the rest on my plantains, and promptly went insane from the amazing sweetness.

As the night went on, I was amused at how much the restaurant started to resemble a Mexican bar. All the smells of the tequila and the rowdiness of the diners came together just as they should. Vaya, corazón.

Whiskey In The Jar

Tina called me on Monday with an invite to go drinking on Tuesday, and I never pass up the chance. The evening was full of whiskey tasting, guided by Master Distiller Steve Beal. Nobody could have made the night more enjoyable or informative. With the night put together again by Myrtlewood Liquors, they spared no opportunity to set the mood:


We started with Bushmill's 16-Year scotch - lightly sweet with a some woodiness - a good opener. It was followed with grilled prawns over a corn and saffron risotto, and a bit of Dalwhinnie 15-Year.


The Dalwhinnie 15 had a deep sweetness, very smooth and rich. Tatsy as it was, the Dalwhinnie Distiller's Edition blows it away: sweet and very woody, it seemed to stay on the tongue forever, with a constant infusion of cinnamon and peat.

The next course was baked brie en croute:


This came with the first offering from Talisker, their 10-Year whiskey. This island-produced whiskey brought forth everything that I like best in the craft: a full peat aroma, rich and earthy, with a deep and lingering smokiness. I was swept up in it. I don't mean to suggest that the night peaked early but this was probably my favorite. Some of my drinking companions insist that the Talisker Distiller's Edition was the better whiskey, but I hold true to the 10-Year. The Distiller's is delightful with its sweet & smoky note, but it felt just a bit fleeting to me. We could all agree however, that if you're picking up something from the Talisker distillery you really can't go wrong.

A Gelnkinchie 12-Year came next - light, smooth, and buttery. Fruity and refreshing, this could be the back-porch Summer whiskey of the night. Up next were two from Oban, and a duck egg roll:


Both the Oban 14-Year and the Distiller's Edition were mellow and easy to drink, with a good honey flavor. I recommend the DE, even if both the whiskeys were overpowered a bit by the spicy red sauce that came with the egg roll.

Main course:


Lamb chops with a coffee/chocolate sauce. Tender and rich, even if I found the meat a bit gamey. With another shot of delicious Talisker at hand, I couldn't complain.

Dessert:



Bread pudding with a sweet whiskey sauce, paired beautifully with the Tom Bulleit bourbon. Simply decadent. The bread pudding came out tender in the middle with a crispy caramelized edge, full of raisins, cinnamon, and warm, tender, milky goodness, and just oozing puddles of sugary whiskey sauce. Adding to the toothache was the perfect Tom Bulleit: clean, sweet, and bright, with a bit of vanilla. Another high moment.

For after-dinner drinks there were the Crown Royal Cask 16, Johnnie Walker Gold 18, and the famous Johnnie Walker Blue.


All tasty, but I felt that some of these big boys were being shown up by their lesser-known brethren. I enjoyed the peatiness of the Blue, maybe a little more than the taste itself. It's a wonderful late-night drink, but I think it proves a point from Mr. Beal: the age, rarity, or price don't matter nearly as much as how you enjoy it.

Candy Everybody Wants

With things trending towards a dryer and warmer NoCal, I met with Molly Mayhem on Sunday for a day out. We tripped on the cosmos as presented by the Academy Of Sciences, and took a cruise further down the coast. Her friends were throwing a little birthday dinner, and I was just lucky enough to show up. Molly has been working with candy lately, and here is one of her latest concoctions:

Blood Orange Caramels

I've severely cut my candy intake since I was a young'un, but this caramel is a more developed take on the classic. The incorporation of blood orange pieces and nuts gives it a multidimensional flavor and texture. Where a typical caramel is just straight sugar up in your grill, these little treats shift from their sweet caramel exterior to a slight tang from the blood orange, and then counters itself with a toasty, nutty crunch. Delightful. I'm not the only person who'd like to see these for sale somewhere.

Moving on to Molly's friends' place, we were treated to a fantastic sangria and raw oyster appetizer. Molly wanted to point out this one in particular for its sheer beauty and form:

Dinner was grilled sausage, peppers, onions, and mushrooms, roasted asparagus, and spiced fingerling potatoes. While that was all delicious and refreshing, I have to emphasize the birthday cake for just how balls-out crazy it is in concept, and yet totally the cake you've always wanted to make for yourself. Witness the Bacon Cake:




The basic recipe as I understood it is a typical yellow cake, but swap out a third of the flour for cornmeal; this makes the cake a little denser, like a light cornbread. Between layers of cake are layers of crisp bacon covered in a brown sugar glaze. The cake is coated in a typical sugar frosting, with a bit less sugar so it doesn't overpower the savoriness of the corn cake and bacon. Finally, it's decorated with more strips of glazed bacon. Now would be a good time to sponge the drool off your keyboard.

Molly's present was a sweet all-copper sugar pan, so the fun is sure to continue. She sent me home with more cookies and berry pies than I can handle myself. I think I have some bored fellow office workers I need to make happy.

Gnarly Wine

It's been a bit of a week, and I thought it would be nice to chill out with a Cappuccino Stout. Turns out I've missed it by a matter of days. But life's not all bad...


...Not in the least. "Tis the season for barley wines, and Lagunitas' Gnarly Wine is on deck. I'm having it with some chicken and a mushroom-asparagus-tomato risotto. This rich, high-gravity brew looks and goes down like candied cherries. My photo doesn't really do it justice, but you owe it to yourself to hold a pint up to the light and admire it before enjoying every velvety sip.

3:1 is Good Odds

Wow, it's been a little while, hasn't it? The New Year comes and goes and I have nothing to say about it publicly, even though I did find a new brain-dead easy recipe for hot wings (or hot whatever-fits-in-a-quart-Ziploc-bag.) Let me try to make it up to you.

I've just opened a very thoughtful Christmas present. Clay and Tina were nice enough to give me a Hendrick's Gin gift box, with a large bottle of gin and accompanying cocktail shaker. Upon uncorking the inky black bottle, it sheds a soothing aroma of flowers and berries. I poured half a jigger and sipped it; the gin pops as soon as it hits the tongue with mellow sweetness and just a little mint. Very nice. After the first taste I was ready to go all the way...

Toby's Preferred Martini:

• 3 parts gin
• 1 part dry vermouth
• 2 jalapeño olives

Liquid ingredients should be poured over a copious amount of cubed ice in a cocktail shaker and shaken vigorously - violently - put everything you've got into it. The cubes agitate the concoction and enhance its flavor. Strain out into a chilled martini glass and introduce the olives on a skewer. You should see slivers of chipped ice on the surface - tiny floes hovering over a sea of fire water. I like mine just a little dirty; the brine sticking to the olive as it's transported from the jar to the drink is plenty. I also recommed using jalapeño-stuffed olives; the added spice stimulates the taste buds, making the flavor brighter and richer.

The Hendrick's in particular takes a dramatic turn in a martini. While Bombay Sapphire keeps some of its sweetness, Hendrick's develops a deep smokiness, as if its floral bouquet had been pressed and dried inside a leather-bound book. It might not replace my Bombay, any more than oranges have replaced my apples. I'll savor it.