Showing posts with label Extra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Extra. Show all posts

Friday, October 17, 2008

French Laundry at Home: Lists and Menu Suggestions

Now that I've cooked every dish in The French Laundry Cookbook, I think it's appropriate to do a bit of a retrospective, don't you think? I've had some time now to think back on the good and the bad... the surprise successes and the dismal failures... the things I loved and continue to make today, and the things I'll never make again.

So let's get all listy.

* * * * *

I hear from a lot of people who say they have The French Laundry Cookbook or want to buy The French Laundry Cookbook, but wouldn't even know where to begin when they think about cooking from it. To them, I say, "Been there." Without going into a big arm-flailing rant about the current state of mainstream consumer food media, I will say that it has done a terrible disservice to the home cook with its proliferation of emphasizing all things quick, easy, and simple. Why? Because one thing that approach does is instill fear and self-doubt in home cooks when it comes to cooking anything above and beyond the standard fare. "Oh, I could never cook out of The French Laundry Cookbook... it's too hard."

Bullshit.

I don't and wouldn't cook from this book every day for every meal. And, most of the food I make for myself on a regular basis is quite basic, yet tasty. However, if there's any big life lesson from this blog, it's that if I, of all people... the queen of Kraft Mac-n-Cheese throughout her 20s and 30s... can cook from The French Laundry Cookbook, ANYONE can. All it takes is the willingness to try. Chances are, you'll end up feeling really proud of what you've done.

So, if you've never cooked from The French Laundry Cookbook, but you're ready to give it a go even though you might still feel a wee bit intimidated, here's what I recommend as Great First Steps:

Gazpacho: It's pretty easy to see why this was the first dish I did, even though I started the blog in January, which is not exactly peak tomato and pepper season here in the mid-Atlantic region. It seemed easy to do, although I remember looking at the balsamic glaze instructions and thinking, "Wow.... balsamic glaze. That might be kind of hard to do." Now, I say, "Pffft. How about a pig head glaze? Want me to do that? Oh yeah, BRING. IT."

Gruyère Cheese Gougères: Easy, and perfect any time of year, although I always associate them with a lovely snowfall, because that's when I first made them.

Citrus-Marinated Salmon with a Confit of Navel Oranges, Beluga Caviar and Pea Shoot Coulis: When you click on that link, try not to cringe that the final plating of this dish. I'm so sorry. It's just bad. But, this is not a difficult dish to do, and I think the flavor profile can't be beat. I really don't like salmon, but I freakin' LOVE this dish.

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce: This was one of the simplest dishes to do, and it's really, really good.

Eric's Staff Lasagna: Alright, fine... so, it's technically not something served to guests at The French Laundry, but it's in the book, so it counts. Why? You know how sometimes when you eat lasagna, it's good but so heavy that you feel full in maybe a not-so-good way? This lasagna is delicious, easy to prepare, fresh, and light. It fills you up, but you don't get that hesitant-to-burp-for-fear-you'll-puke feeling. I know Eric Ziebold is going to love that kind of review when he sees this in his Google Alert (Hi, Eric! Love CityZen!).

Sally Schmitt's Cranberry and Apple Kuchen with Hot Cream Sauce: Bring on the umlauts! Again, not something served at The French Laundry, but it's in the book, and it's lovely, straightforward, easy to do, and perfect for fall.

Lemon Sabayon-Pine Nut Tart with Honeyed Mascarpone Cream: Gorgeous. Easy. Delicious. A real crowd-pleaser.

* * * * *

As 2007 moved into 2008, I did a little reflection on some of my French Laundry favorites and other recommendations. When I look back on that list of my Top Ten Favorites, it's interesting now to see what stayed on the list, and what has been replaced by things I've made since then.

Top Ten Favorites

Roulade of Pekin Duck Breast with Creamed Sweet White Corn and Morel Mushroom Sauce: Phenomenal.

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce: Oh, wow.

Cream of Walnut Soup: It made me close my eyes, smile, and bounce around in my seat with glee.

"Head to Toe" -- Pig's Head
: Three exhausting days. One life-changing experience.

Velouté of Bittersweet Chocolate
: I think this might be the best dessert I've ever made.

Oysters and Pearls: This is the dish that got me to love oysters. No small feat.

Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Sage Cream, Brown Butter, and Prosciutto: Perfection.

Tasting of Potatoes with Black Truffle: I want this on my Thanksgiving table, and then, I want Thanksgiving to be every day. Or twice a day.

"Peas and Carrots" -- Maine Lobster Pancakes with Pea Shoot Salad and Ginger-Carrot Emulsion: This dish makes me want to hug myself.

Braised Breast of Veal with Yellow Corn Polenta Cakes, Glazed Vegetables, and Sweet Garlic: My new favorite comfort food.

* * * * *

So, did I just cook every dish in The French Laundry Cookbook and then stow the book away for safekeeping? Hellz no. Here are the dishes I've Added to the Permanent Repertoire because I think they're worth making regularly (by which I mean a few times a year):

Creamy Maine Lobster Broth


Gruyère Cheese Gougères

Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Sage Cream, Brown Butter, and Prosciutto

Whole Roasted Moulard Duck Foie Gras with Apples and Black Truffles

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce

"Pineapple Chop" -- Oven-Roasted Maui Pineapple with Fried Pastry Cream and Whipped Crème Fraîche

I also now use The French Laundry Cookbook's bordelaise sauce recipe and veal stock recipe as the standard in my kitchen.

* * * * *

Now, you know it hasn't been all sunshine, lollipops and unicorns up in here these past two years, and I have had some colossal failures, as well as things that just didn't turn out the way I'd hoped. Some of them I'll never make again. Others, I should probably try again at some point in my life so that I can master whatever skill is was I didn't have before. Or at least try to not suck as badly as the first go-round.

Here are the Things I Feel Bad About Screwing Up and someday will try again so that I can redeem myself in the eyes of those who can cook:

"Chips and Dip" -- Potato Chips with Truffle Dip

"Surf and Turf" -- Sautéed Monkfish Tail with Braised Oxtails, Salsify and Cèpes

"Head to Toe" -- Pig's Feet

"Candied Apple" -- Crème de Farine with Poached Apples and Ice Cream


And, because you know there are some, here are the Dishes I Will Never, Ever Make Again, Not Even if Michael Bloomberg Asked Me To:

Chesapeake Bay Soft-shell Crab "Sandwich": The quotes around "sandwich" aren't mine. It's in the book that way. I think the quotes are there because it wasn't appropriate to call this what it really is: Chesapeake Bay Soft-shell Big Fat Plate of Trauma.

Tripe: No. Just, no.

Lobster Consommé en Gelée: Unless I need a torture device to use on neighborhood children with already-burned hands, or an easy path to bankruptcy, this won't make an appearance in my kitchen again.

* * * * *

Ever since I started this blog, people have asked, "if you had to put together a 4- or 5-course menu for a dinner party, using dishes from The French Laundry Cookbook, what would you recommend?"

Early on, I'm sure I proposed the most preposertous and unattainable combinations, because, HELLO, I hadn't made all of these dishes yet, so what the hell did I know?

So, now that I've cooked everything, here's what I think I'd put together as a menu as something I, personally, would enjoy and would be capable of pulling off. With these recommendations, I'm factoring in prep time, cooking and storage space, and being able to actually spend time with dinner guests instead of having to stay in the kitchen the whole time and not enjoy the food at the table with them.


Menu #1 (Spring)

Gruyère Cheese Gougères

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce

Roasted Sweetbreads with Applewood-smoked Bacon, Braised Belgian Endive and Black Truffle Sauce

Roulade of Pekin Duck Breast with Creamed Sweet White Corn and Morel Mushroom Sauce

Peanut Butter Truffles (and maybe the jellies if I'm in the mood)



Menu #2 (Summer)


"Peas and Carrots" -- Maine Lobster Pancakes with Pea Shoot Salad and Ginger-Carrot Emulsion

"Clam Chowder" -- Saut
éed Cod with Cod Cakes and Parsley Oil

Double-rib Lamb Chops with Cassoulet of Summer Beans and Rosemary

Strawberry and Champagne Terrine


Menu #3 (Fall)

"Cornets" -- Salmon Tartare with Sweet Red Onion Crème Fraîche


Fricassée of Escargots with a Purée of Sweet Carrots, Roasted Shallots, and Herb Salad

Braised Breast of Veal with Yellow Corn Polenta Cakes, Glazed Vegetables, and Sweet Garlic

Sally Schmitt's Cranberry and Apple Kuchen with Hot Cream Sauce


Menu #4 (Winter)


Cream of Walnut Soup

Whole Roasted Moulard Duck Foie Gras with Apples and Black Truffles

Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Sage Cream, Brown Butter, and Prosciutto

Velouté of Bittersweet Chocolate


* * * * *

Note: I know I said in my previous post that this post would contain what I think is a cool giveaway. While I'm happy to report that the giveaway is still quite cool, I'm sad to say the timing on it still isn't confirmed.... so stay tuned. I'm hoping all the details are ironed out by my next (and final) post next week. If not, then I'll just have to pimp it on Alinea at Home. So stay tuned.


Up Next: I'm Staying "At Home"

Music To Write Lists By: Rooney; Rooney. I listen to Rooney when I need music that's more than background music, but won't make me stop what I'm doing just to listen to it.

Read My Previous Post: "Cornets" -- Salmon Tartare with Sweet Red Onion Crème Fraîche

Monday, September 15, 2008

French Laundry at Home Extra: Continuing the birthday celebration at Per Se...

First, let me thank so many of you for your very sweet comments and emails after my last post. Not a day goes by where I don't think about how lucky I am to have such fantastically awesome and funny people following along and enjoying this blog. You all make this so much more worthwhile than perhaps you'll ever know. So, thank you.

Second, yes I know I'm slightly insane, but I'm also equally excited about the Alinea at Home project. I'll answer all questions related to that blog in a few weeks when I get everything up and running. For now, we're going to stay focused on French Laundry at Home, because....

Third, quite a few people emailed me last week with things like, "I'm so sad it's over" and "Wow, I can't believe you're done with the blog" to which I say, "HEY! WAKE UP, SISTER! I'm not DONE YET. There are still a few more dishes to write about and post about and for you to drool over, not the least of which is when I single-handedly (okay, that's a big, fat lie, but I'm on a roll, people, so work with me here) butchered, dressed, prepared, cooked and ate a whole baby lamb so DON'T YOU WANT TO SEE THAT? OR, SHOULD I JUST QUIT RIGHT NOW? HUH!?!?!?"

So, um yeah. It's not over yet, people. There are a few more dishes to write about, and a few other posts I have in the works, so stick with me. I'll let you know when we're done, and thus, when it's time for you to bookmark my new blogs. Yes, that's blogs with an "s." You already know about one of them. But the other one, you don't. You will, though, soon enough. I promise. Pinky swear.


* * * * *


Picking up where my previous post left off, I flew home from California on Wednesday, August 20th, got in very late at night, slept for about six hours, then drove to the southern Jersey shore where I spent Thursday and Friday with friends. On Saturday morning, I drove up to New York to continue the birthday festivities. The sky was blue ("and all the leaves are green"-- ten points to whomever knows that lyric) and the city skyline teased and beckoned every cotton-pickin' minute I sat waiting in what turned out to be an unnecessary goat rope leading to the Holland Tunnel. Why cars have to slow down to a near-stop to watch construction taking place on a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT ROAD, like, nine miles away, I'll never know.

I couldn't WAIT to get into the city... not just because I really love New York and feel energized every time I'm there, but also because joining me for dinner that night at Per Se were Linda, Sean, and Holly, my friends who also happen to be neighbors who have eaten nearly every one of the dishes made for this blog, as well as my friends, Andrea and Todd. I was so happy to be just hours away from sitting down at a table with friends I knew were going to love this experience.

That evening, Holly met Linda, Sean, and me at the hotel, and we walked the half-block from there to the Time Warner Center. It was all I could do not to skip across the street in absolute glee. I probably could have -- 58th Street was a ghost town -- but my shoes were sooo not conducive to that kind of activity. As we went up the escalators in the Time Warner Center, it was, again, all I could do to not leap up the metal escalator steps three at a time to get there even sooner. But I am not a lady who leaps (at least not in those shoes), so I maintained some semblance of patience and decorum.

Upon reaching the fourth floor, we stopped for a moment in the garden, the glass door slid open, we stepped into Per Se, and were greeted with a smile and a lovely "welcome" that set the tone for the evening. Andrea and Todd had gotten there a few moments earlier and were enjoying a cocktail in the bar area, so after saying hello to them and introducing everyone to one another, our service captain, Mike Minnillo, took us to the private dining room where we settled in for what I thought was certain was going to be a really great night. I mean, I'd checked out the tasting menu on the way in so I thought I had a pretty good idea of what might be in store, but when Mike said, "We'll have printed menus for you at the end, but I wanted to let you know that Jonathan is going to cook for you, okay?" I nearly wept. "Jonathan is going to cook for you, okay?" Oh my. It was more than okay. Because when "Jonathan is going to cook for you," I know that means there are going to be some wonderful surprises along the way.

When I sat down, there was a lovely note from Jaclyn, who, along with Célia, had helped coordinate the evening, as well as a note from Chef Keller, which was so unexpected and so cherished.

Mason, our sommelier, helped us make our wine selection for the evening:

* Peter Michael, "La Carrière" 2006
* Shafer, "Red Shoulder Ranch," 2006
* Turley, "Dusi Vineyard," Paso Robles 2006

... after which he brought out some champagne (Schramsberg Reserve, 1999, if I'm remembering correctly; and, sparkling wine, if I want to be technically correct since it's from California not France); we toasted one another, and then the fun began.

I didn't take photos, because I just can't bring myself to do that in restaurants, and I hope I can do the menu justice with my descriptions of each dish. Are you ready to go along for the ride? I hope so, because this was such a special night, and I'm so excited to be writing about it. Here we go:

* As is tradition at The French Laundry and Per Se, we started the evening with Gougères, which were followed by Salmon Tartare Cornets with Red Onion Crème Fraîche. Perfect.

* Chilled Hass Avocado Soup; Honeydew Melon and Garden Mint with Espelette Pepper Mousse. Cool, creamy, fresh, light, clean, aromatic, crisp, sharp, gorgeous, flavorful, and elicited the first of what would become a multitude of moans, sighs, and giddy smiles.

* Basil Sorbet; Picholine Olive Tapenade and Thyme Tuile. Fresh, fragrant, solid, smooth, pointed, well rounded, made me want to lick the plate, and the basil sorbet reminded me of my dinner at Alinea, which was an unexpected pleasant surprise.

* "Oysters and Pearls;" "Sabayon" of Pearl Tapioca with Island Creek Oysters and Sterling White Sturgeon Caviar. I feel so incredibly spoiled and luxurious when I eat this. It may just be one of my favorite things in the whole world. Creamy, warm, salty, poppy, bursting with flavor, didn't want it to end.

* Atlantic Fluke; Ginger Gelée and Citrus Vinaigrette. Beautifully plated and the flavors and textures complemented one another so perfectly, it made me want more. I never make fluke at home, but now I have to... and if I only get it a mere 0.000003% close to being this good, I'll have succeeded. I'm often hesitant to order anything in a restaurant that has ginger listed as an ingredient, because far too often it overpowers the dish. This ginger gelée was so subtle, and yet it brought the dish to life so beautifully. A total homerun, and one I didn't expect.

* Mediterranean Sardine; Confit Eggplant and Spanish Caper Emulsion. When I was in elementary school, there was this kid who brought a tin of sardines for lunch every Friday, and they (and that kid) totally grossed me out. Since then, I've come to appreciate sardines when I'm cooking and using them in their various preparations, but I honestly don't think I've ever eaten or enjoyed a small fillet (if that's even an accurate term) of sardine, let alone with eggplant and caper to complement it so perfectly. This is a flavor combination I'm going to experiment with here at home because it was divine.

* White Truffle Oil-Infused Custard; "Ragoût of Black Winter Truffles." This was the fourth time I'd eaten this canapé, and as always, I could have eaten twenty of them. Makes me want to spend a few hours (okay, weeks) in my kitchen perfecting my chive-potato chip so that I can make and serve them with dignity, unlike the first time I made them.

* "Smoke;" All-Day Braised Hobbs Shore's Pork Belly, Heirloom Beets, and Burgundy Mustard. I knew what type of preparation was coming when I saw the crystal spheres being so gently and carefully carried into the room, but I had no idea I was in for the single best piece of pork belly I've eaten in my life. This dish, if you'll indulge me in a rather nerdy confession, almost made me cry, it was so good. The reveal that takes place when the top of the sphere is removed and the smoke rises up and into and onto your palate is such a wonderful tease, and to be able to feast on even that small morsel of pork belly that has spent a day braising to absolute perfection (along with beets and mustard that more than held their own) is nirvana.

Upon taking that final bite of what was sheer bliss and having had our plates cleared, we began to look at one another and whisper, "Wait... how many things have we eaten? What course are we on? Was the fluke our fish course?" A few minutes later, Mike came in to check on us, have our water and wine needs attended to, and said, "Your first course is next."

Your. First. Course. Is. Next.

::: cue the nervous giggling because we thought we were already on our fifth course, at least :::

So, yeah. Now that I have a menu to refer to... Nine canapes, then those magical, magical words.

Your. First. Course. Is. Next.

Happy birthday to me, indeed.

* "Salad of Big Island Hearts of Palm;" Compressed Summer Melons, Salted Pine Nuts, and Red Ribbon Sorrel with Lemon Verbena "Aigre-Doux." So, here's the point in the evening when I totally geeked out and regaled my friends (complete with really bad sound effects and some sort of interpretive hand gestures that, looking back, made absolutely no sense) with the process of how you compress melon in the Cryovac machine (as I'd seen Chef Keller and Rory Herrmann do earlier that summer, so of course, now I'm, like a TOTAL expert on the subject; and my friends were kind enough to indulge my demonstration which is why I love them), and how it intensifies the flavor, and how it is just oh-so-awesome, and if they really loved me they'd just buy me a Cryovac and I'd make them compressed melon every day. Astoundingly, a red-ribboned Cryovac has not shown up yet on my doorstep, but I'm still holding out hope. This "salad" was absolutely delicious -- thin slices of heart of palm, the sweet melon, the salty pine nuts... all so beautifully composed texture- and taste-wise, and I really could have slathered myself in the lemon verbena aigre-doux and been quite a happy camper.

* "Peach Melba;" Terrine of Hudson Valley Moulard Duck Foie Gras, Frog Hollow Farm's Peaches, Peach Jelly, Pickled Red Onion, Cilantro Shoots (mine came sans), "Melba Toast," and Puffed Carolina Rice. This foie course was accompanied by six different kinds of salt, and was one of my favorite dishes of the night. I haven't made foie gras in what feels like a really long time, and I didn't realize how much I missed it until I had this dish. I know that might, to some, sound like an incredibly snotty thing to say, but deveining a foie gras was one of my biggest fears when I started the blog (I obviously was in denial about the pig's head and the whole baby lamb), and knowing that it's something that's actually pretty easy to do, now, feels good, so this dish gave me a little surprise boost of pride for what I've been able to learn.

* "Pavé" of Kindai Bluefin Tuna "À La Plancha;" "Haricots Verts," Globe Artichokes, Niçoise Olive Petals with Greenmarket Radishes and "Barigoule" Emulsion. In addition to this being one of the most spectacular things I've ever eaten, I was so excited to have my very first (and probably only) taste of kindai, because it's so rare. It was perfectly cooked and everything in this dish was so flavorful, you couldn't help but smile with every bite.

* Butter-Poached Nova Scotia Lobster; Long Island Gold Corn Kernels with Chanterelle Mushrooms and Fig-Chocolate Sauce. Lobster + Corn = duh, of course THAT was gonna be good. Add the chanterelles? Sure. Even better. A sauce composed of chocolate and figs to go along with it? Really? Huh. Well, I don't kn.... ::: taste ::: ::: stunned silence ::: For the next few minutes, I pretty much muttered to myself like a crazy bag lady about the sauce and how great it was and what the ratio of chocolate to fig might be and who knew it would be this good, let alone with the core elements of this dish, and I could've been hit by a bus right then and died incredibly happy, sated, and content.

At this point in the evening, we took a break to stretch our legs, take a stroll, and generally let those 13 dishes settle in before we started up again. The private dining room at Per Se is all windows on two sides -- one on the restaurant side (with a privacy curtain if we needed it), and the other overlooking Columbus Circle and the southwest corner of Central Park. The moon was full and bright in the sky, the skyline flecked with light on a weekend when many had fled the city for a final jaunt upstate or at the beach. We spent some time talking to Mike, who I'd met before and just think the world of. And, we enjoyed our wine as we talked about everything under the sun -- politics, high school antics, who could pull up IMDB fastest on their iPhone to settle a bet on a character's name in Carrie, work, our dogs, whether or not Swoosie Kurtz was still working and who could name all the female lead cast members of Sisters (which naturally led to speculation about the actual dollar value of Julianne Phillips' divorce settlement), and the merits of seeing Prince live on tour (which we all highly recommend, FYI).

After some time had gone by, we sat down, ready to find out what was coming our way next. As we settled into our chairs, fresh napkins on our laps, I looked around the table and felt so incredibly lucky to be surrounded for the second Saturday night in a row by amazing friends and people I care about so much. My friend, Todd, is my oldest friend -- we've known one another since we were four years old and used to rig up those little green, plastic army men with homemade parachutes made out of baggies and rubber bands... and he was my guest the first time I ate at Per Se, so it was really special to have him there with me that night. My friend, Andrea, and I met fifteen years ago when we worked together at MCI. She lives in southern California, and had to be at a family wedding the weekend prior so she wasn't able to go to The French Laundry. Lucky for me, she planned a business trip to New York that week so she could be at Per Se, and I'm so glad she was there. And, having Linda, Sean and Holly at the table with me was incredibly important, because they not only have tasted nearly every dish I've made as part of this blog, they've become like family to me in the eleven years we've lived next to and across from one another. This was the first time many of them were meeting one another, and everyone clicked so easily, it made for a warm and laughter-filled evening.

The service team came in with our next course, upon which they heaped the most incredible summer truffles... so, here we go:

* Buckwheat Rigatini with Shaved Summer Truffles. Who knew something so simple and as, dare I say, rustic, could simultaneously melt the heart and pique the palate quite like this dish did?

* Four Story Hills Farm's "Suprême de Poularde;" "Farcie à la Mousse de Truffe d'Été," Wilted Butter Lettuce and Cauliflower Florettes with Sauce Périgourdine. Chicken. Truffles. Lettuce. Cauliflower. Sauce. Magic. Pure magic.

* Snake River Farm's "Calotte de Boeuf Grillée;" Poached Bone Marrow, "Rissolée" of New Crop Potatoes, Black Trumpet Mushrooms and Arrowleaf Spinach Purée with "Sauce Bordelaise." Just before this dish was brought out, I was starting to feel full. Like maybe I'd reached my limit and would only be able to do a bite or two of everything else that was to come. Like that was f-in g possible, what with the way this dish smelled as it was placed before me. Wow. Just wow.

* DiBruno Brothers' "Burrata;" Heirloom Tomatoes, Petite Basil, and Tomato "Raisins" with "Croûtons de Pain de Campagne." Three cheers for DiBruno Brothers, a Pennsylvania (my people!) business I know and love. And a kazillion cheers for this perfect take on a caprese salad, which for some people is nooner-inducing. Ahem. This is the second innovative execution around these flavors I've had this summer -- the first one being at Alinea -- and this one was equally amazing and just made me smile and think about why I love the end of summer so much.

* Plum Sorbet; Santa Rosa Plums, Ginger Pudding, Plum Consommé and Gingerbread Crisp. Cold. Fresh. Sweet. Smooth. With ginger-y warmth, if that makes sense. This was absolutely delightful and was leading up to the thing I was pretty sure we were having next, because when asked a month prior what I might want as a special birthday dessert, I was pretty quick to respond by pleading for...

* "Coffee and Doughnuts;" Cinnamon-Sugared Doughnuts with Cappucino Semifreddo. If I had the skillz, I'd write a song about this dessert. Instead, I'll do a haiku:

Yay!, in cup, on plate
O, Per Se pastry team, go
On witcha bad self!

I savored every bite of the doughnuts and every last cold, velvety spoonful of the semifreddo and thought to myself, "this night is just so perfect."

The servers cleared our plates and we had just placed our coffee orders in preparation for the mignardises and other candy treats when the lights in the room dimmed to near-total darkness, the door opened, and in came Mike and the service team with the most elegant cake, candles aglow, and my friends, very quietly, sang "happy birthday" in hushed reverence because this was a most unexpected surprise, and the room was so beautiful in the candlelight, it almost took your breath away. I made a wish, blew out the candles, and grinned from ear to ear. Just when I thought the night was perfect, they went and made it even more perfect.

The final course on the menu read:

* "Birthday Cake;" Bitter Chocolate Mousse with Chocolate and Pear Financier with Tahitian Vanilla Ice Cream. I think many of you know I've never really been a fan of fruit and chocolate together. But with age comes wisdom, I suppose, and just like "Oysters and Pearls" changed my mind about oysters, this cake changed my mind about fruit and chocolate. I was beyond blown away... not only by the incredible generosity of this most indulgent dessert, but also because it was just so delicious and comforting and celebratory and unexpected, yet most pleasantly and flavorfully harmonious.

After we'd eaten the cake and continued to nurse our coffee, they brought us each a teeny-tiny crème brûlée, a tray of mignardises (the dark chocolate/mocha ones were stunning), and a bowl of caramels -- a few, okay SIX, of which found their way into my clutch so that I could enjoy them a few nights later as I sat on my favorite beach watching the surfers take the waves. Who knew Per Se caramels and the salty evening air would go so well together? Oh yeah, I did. Which is why I snuck a few to go. Hee!

My friends and I sat around the table for a little while longer, just generally enjoying one another's company in a restaurant that has always been special to me, and was now even moreso. Before we left, Mike took us back into the kitchen so that we could see everyone and everything that went into making this night so remarkable. If I could, I would have scooped them all up in the biggest, squeezingest hug imaginable and kissed them all over the face for days on end. But because I was not raised by wolves, I settled on a handshake, an incredibly heartfelt and hopefully-not-too-obviously-choking-back-tears "thank you" to Jonathan Benno, and a big thank you to everyone who was still in the kitchen finishing up service.

We collected our menus, along with little packages of Florentine cookies, gave hugs goodbye, and set out into the warm New York night. It was well past 1 a.m. -- we'd started around 7 -- and the city was strangely quiet for a Saturday night. Todd walked Andrea back to her hotel before getting himself home, Holly made her way back to where she was staying, and the rest of us walked back to the hotel. I changed into something more casual, washed my face, and went back out for a walk. I wasn't ready to go to sleep, and I really wanted some time to think and savor the night for as long as I could. When I finally crawled into bed, I dozed off knowing that I'd had the most wonderful birthday, if not one of the most wonderful nights, of my life.

I'm not usually this gushy or smooshy, but there's just something so very special about Per Se. Not only was it my first Keller restaurant experience as well as the place where I first met Chef Keller, there's also something just so welcoming that's boosted and enhanced by the energy of being in New York. Every touch of service is comfortable, inviting, and welcoming -- from the initial phone call to book the room, to the follow-up notes I received once I got home -- and the graciousness with which our evening was handled was truly outstanding. For instance, one of my friends has a wheat and gluten intolerance, and they made accommodations every step of the way -- from swapping out the foie gras terrine to a hot preparation because it didn't involve the melba toast and serving risotto instead of pasta, to offering gluten-free bread while the rest of us ate the multitude of bread choices (along with what I know to be the best butter in the country) throughout the evening. Another friend had an aversion to foie of any sort, so instead, they served her a little confit byaldi, or, ratatouille. It's touches like these that make Per Se an even more special place to me, because they didn't just take care of me and the things I am allergic to, they also took care of my friends. Every single one of us at that table was treated with respect and great care, and in such a friendly, yet professional manner... it's really like stepping into another dimension altogether.

For that and so many reasons, Per Se is a restaurant I hope to return to time and time again (yay for being a short train ride away), and I could not be more grateful for everyone who contributed to this amazing night, including my clients who provided those little extra projects here and there so I could afford it all. Talk about labor of love.... every time I got frustrated with work this year, I just kept thinking about how those billable hours were the means to a very delicious end.

So many moving parts still in the works, so many changes, so many good things, so many great people, so many dear friends, such a loving family (including a new baby nephew this summer!).... this past year has been incredible, and chock full of so many unexpected pleasures I never could have imagined or known I'd wanted or needed. But here it all is... and to be able to celebrate a milestone birthday with family and great friends at both The French Laundry and Per Se was an absolute joy. They truly are the most special places.

* * * * *

Up Next: Baby Lamb -- Five Cuts Served with Provençal Vegetables, Braised Cipollini Onions, and Thyme Oil (Part 1)

Read My Previous Post: French Laundry at Home Extra -- Eating my way through Yountville, CA

Monday, September 8, 2008

French Laundry at Home Extra: Eating my way through Yountville, CA


Oh, hi there.

Do you know where I am?

I'm here.




Or, at least I was.

And, oh, what a night we had.

On Saturday, August 16th, I turned the page of another incredible chapter in this journey of mine. But let's begin at the beginning, because this trip was so much more than the amazing, incredible, and wonderful food at The French Laundry. It was about the whole package: being with friends and family, celebrating what has been a pretty fantastic year, immersing oneself in the entire Thomas Keller experience, having the most glorious weather, drinking really good wine, and spending some time in a town that felt remarkably like home.

I flew into San Francisco on Friday the 15th. My flight was late, but I was still on time to meet Shuna at Tartine where we ate and gabbed and laughed until it was time for her to meet a friend and time for me to try and beat the rush-hour traffic out of the city and head up north to Napa County.

I drove north, then west, then north again... the radio blaring, my car windows down, and the dorkiest grin on my face as I sang along at the top of my lungs to every song on the radio. I stopped at a Starbucks to get a cup of iced coffee then continued up Route 29 in stop-and-go traffic as I inched my way toward Yountville.

I turned off 29 onto Madison Street, took a right onto Jefferson, and pulled into the driveway of the house my friends, Marisa, Ron, and Jon, and I rented for our time there. I was the last to arrive, and when I got there, they'd already been cranking the tunes while unpacking and dropped everything to give big hugs hello. My parents had arrived the day before and were staying in their own rental house a few miles away. We brought in my luggage, and after just a few moments of ridding myself of the smell of the airplane and the drive, we hit the town.

Walking four abreast down Jefferson Street (and somehow lined up by height as if we were posing for the poster from The Usual Suspects or the cast of Oceans Eleven -- only hotter... um, heh), we made our way to the market where we stocked up on provisions for dinner -- sausages, fresh corn, spinach, goat cheese, peas, the makings for a vinaigrette, and a few bottles of wine. We walked back to the house, and instead of veering back down Jefferson, we stayed on Washington, and got a little quiet as we neared 6640 Washington Street. We were on the garden side of the street, and we stopped for a moment to take in what was just a few yards away on either side -- an acre or so of garden to our left, and The French Laundry to our right. We stood there for a moment to take it all in, smiled at one another, turned right onto Creek Street, then left on Jefferson, and headed back to the house to fire up the grill. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face the whole rest of the walk home. None of us could.

We made ourselves a wonderful dinner on the grill that night -- so simple, and so perfect for a group of friends who have known one another since 1986, have seen each other through our very best and very worst moments, and can always pick right up where we left off -- even though we are only able to get together once a year, at best.

Jet-lagged and having been awake for nearly 21 hours, I dragged myself off to bed. I wanted to be rested for the big day, for dinner at The French Laundry was the following evening.


I love being an east coaster traveling on the west coast, because I love waking up at 4 or 5 in the morning, and getting to see the place where I am when it's still so very quiet, and only beginning to stir. I woke up that morning around 4:30, and stretched as I laid there in bed, breathing in the fresh, cool air blowing through the window. I tiptoed across the cold bamboo floor into the bathroom across the hall to brush my teeth and freshen up a bit before heading out for a walk. Marisa's husband, Ron, was up early as well, and was heading out for a run. Jon was still asleep, and Marisa had just gotten awake. While the others got ready, I took a little walk through town. It was so great to be in such a small town in which everything is walkable, the architecture and landscaping so lovely, and the gardens and trees so fragrant. It reminded me of my favorite beach town, and a little bit like where I live now. Lots of bungalows, gorgeous gardens, and a general sense of neatness and order, interspersed with at least one house on every block that has, shall we say, "character."

Around 7 o'clock, I circled back to the house, picked up Marisa and Jon, and we walked to Bouchon Bakery for breakfast. A sampling of the pastries was in order, but as soon as I saw a cup filled with thick, creamy yogurt and some apricot purée, I was sold. That, a piece of leek quiche (which, HOLY CREAMINESS, was that good) and a large, steaming cup of coffee, and I knew I was gonna love this town. We sat outside the bakery and enjoyed our treats while we got caught up on one another's lives, eavesdropped on a few conversations, and enjoyed the general feeling of connection many of the regulars there seem to have. It felt so good to be on vacation, and to be sharing it with such great friends.


We began every morning of our trip with a walk to Bouchon Bakery for breakfast and some coffee, and it was such a nice ritual. I miss it, not just for the food, but mostly because I wish Ron and Marisa lived closer so that we could do this kind of morning walk thing more often.

After breakfast on Saturday, we decided to walk home via The French Laundry so we could spend some time nosing around the garden a bit and see the restaurant in the early morning light. I'd already learned how to pace myself, food-wise, in preparation of a chef's tasting menu when I ate at Per Se, so I knew I was just going to be snacking on some almonds and eating a salad or other light lunch and that was it. We walked through the garden (it was just barely 8 o'clock and still nice and cool outside), and marveled at the wide variety of vegetables growing there, and wondered what was going to be on our plate that night.


We made a quick trip to Trader Joe's in Napa for a few provisions, and spent the day hanging around the house listening to music, relaxing in the hot tub, reading magazines on the deck, and taking long walks throughout the town -- exploring neighborhoods, getting ideas for future landscaping projects, and checking out the new construction. One of the sites for a new inn and spa had surrounding it a Portrait Project, which had just gone up a few days before we got there; it was fun to look at the photos on the wall and try and figure out who was who and what their story was.

Early afternoon turned into late afternoon, and we began the getting-ready-for-dinner part of the day. Remember how I said getting ready for dinner at Per Se the first time I went there felt like getting ready for a first date? Well, getting ready to eat at The French Laundry was a little like getting ready for a second date -- you already know you like the person well enough to see him or her again, and there's a slight sense of familiarity, but there's still a little nervous energy going into it because you want to make a good impression.

My parents met us at our house, and we all went over to the restaurant together. We took some pictures of ourselves across the street in the garden, and then walked back across the street, under the arbor and through the blue door into the restaurant. We were whisked upstairs to the private dining room, which, when you look at the front of The French Laundry, is in the front, right-hand corner -- and met our service captain, Zion Curiel.

Zion took great care of us all evening -- he was an absolute joy to meet, and made sure our dinner service ran smoothly. Our sommelier, Anani Lawson, was also great fun, and helped with some outstanding wine pairings throughout the evening.

Now, let's get to the menu. I didn't take photos of the food because I just don't feel comfortable doing that. I'm sure if you Google these dishes by name, you can find photos posted elsewhere by other diners who ate there around the same time we did. Alright, here we go:

*We started the night with a Pierre-Gimonnet champagne and with that had the Gougères and the Salmon Cornets. Perfection in pâte à choux, and decadence in a cone.

* "Oysters and Pearls"-- "Sabayon" of Pearl Tapioca with Island Creek Oysters and White Sturgeon Caviar. As I think most of you know, I was a bigtime oyster hater before starting this blog. Couldn't stand 'em. This is the dish that turned me around. Of course, I really won't eat oysters any other way, so perhaps I'm spoiled, but this dish is the epitome of ocean and cream and salt and smooth. I'd had it before at Per Se, but no one else at the table had, so I just sat there smiling, as I watched everyone take their first bite and realize just how amazing this food was going to be.

* Truffle Custard. Suffice to say, theirs was beautiful. When I made it, not so much.

* Salad of French Laundry Garden Turnips -- Sugar Snap Peas, Red Radishes and Ginger "Aigre-Doux."
Imagine beautifully turned, teeny, tiny, baby turnips, blanched perfectly, and arranged most beautifully on the plate with the most delicate sugar snap pea pods and thinly sliced radishes. The "dressing" or "aigre-doux" (French for "sweet-sour") was delicious and really pulled everything together. It's important to note that this dish was plated on a somewhat oblong plate that had an acutely angular base so that the plate tipped forward a bit to better present the dish. Beautiful. With this course, we had a 2005 Prager "Hollerin" Riesling.

* Sweet-Butter Poached Maine Lobster Tail -- Belgian Endive, Watercress and Apricot-Riesling Emulsion. This dish was extraordinary. The lobster tail was done sous vide (as so much of the food there and at Per Se is done), and was so incredibly solid, yet succulent. The endive was gorgeous, and I loved having a bit of apricot on the plate, because it made me think about my favorite breakfast discovery at Bouchon Bakery and made me quite happy. With this course, we had a 2006 Domaine de Pegau "Cuvée Réservée" Chateauneuf de Pape from the Rhone Valley.

* Snake River Farms "Calotte de Boeuf Grillée" -- Potato Confit, Baby Corn, Chanterelle Mushrooms and "Béarnaise" Reduction. This is one of those dishes for which I had no words. I think Marisa summed it up best when she took her second bite, turned to me, and asked, "Would it be bad form to weep right about now?" This was the best dish of the night. We were all pretty speechless at this point and the meat was so tender, it was almost like slicing butter. I also loved the wine we had with this course -- the Shafer One Point Five Cabernet Sauvignon (2005). So smooth, so soft, and so perfect.

We took a short break at this point to walk around the restaurant's courtyard/garden area and get some fresh air. It was a lovely, breezy night, and it felt good to step outside onto our little balcony and walk down to the garden and peek into the windows of the kitchen for a few minutes.

* "Sao Jorge" -- Grilled Globe Artichokes, Carrot Ribbons, Cilantro Shoots, and Caraway Dressing. Thankfully, mine came without cilantro shoots, but this cheese, this Sao Jorge, was really phenomenal. It's boisterous and sharp, but not overpowering or too tangy. My friend, Ron, grew up in the Azores and said this was the standard cheese they'd eat in sandwiches and for snacks, so for him, this course was an unexpected trip down memory lane. With this course, we had a bottle of Turley "Ueberroth" Zinfandel.

* Pudwill Farm's Blueberry Sorbet -- Andante Dairy Yogurt and Puffed Quinoa. Perfect palate cleanser. Cool, crisp, and a great textural pop... but it made me a little sad, because I knew we were nearing the end of our night.

* "Délice Au Chocolat et à la Menthe" -- with Amedei Chuao Chocolate-Mint "Parfait" and Mint Syrup. Okay, I have to link to someone else's photo of this dish, because it was a really interesting presentation. It was really very good (and I love dark chocolate, so I was a happy camper), and was followed by the standard post-dessert service of Mignardises (filled chocolates -- I OD'd on the peanut butter ones) and salted caramels. Anani poured a 20-year Dow's Tawny Port with, and although I'm not usually fan of Port, this was outstanding. Really warm and smooth and complemented the chocolate and mint quite beautifully.

We ended the night with a quick visit to the kitchen so we could thank Corey and the team for preparing a most lovely dinner for us. It was late, and they had already begun breaking everything down to clean up, but it was so nice to meet him and be able to get a little glimpse into that beautiful kitchen that has earned itself a special place in the history books.


They sent us home with a few packages of shortbread, and invited us to linger in the courtyard/garden for a little while with a glass of wine since it was such a beautiful night. My parents left (they had plans the next morning, and it was late), and the four of us just sat at a little table and enjoyed the rest of the night. We called a few friends to gloat about where we were calling them from, and watched as the remaining diners spilled out of the restaurant, had their picture taken in front of the door, and made their way home.

Although it was hard to tear ourselves away from that magical place, we got up from the table, once again thanked our service team who was closing up shop for the night, and made our way home under a clear sky loaded with stars and a bright full moon that lit up the night sky.

* * * * *

The next day, we lolled around like listless manatees hung over from the overindulgence of food and wine the night before. We managed to shuffle through the day, taking naps and reading, and rallied for dinner at Bouchon that night.

I needed to go easy on my digestive system, so I stuck with the familiar -- French onion soup and gnocchi with lightly sautéed vegetables and brown butter. My dad had the Poulet Roti (and loved it), and I'm drawing a blank on what everyone else ordered because once Marisa eyed the small side dish of sweet corn on a neighboring table and decided to order that, SWEET MOTHER OF LAVERNE AND SHIRLEY it was so good it stopped us dead in our tracks. I only got one bite of it, but it was life-changing. Turns out, it was done sous vide in a packet with butter and thyme, then sautéed with a bit of Pernod, and then some crème fraîche whisked in. I am not exaggerating (and I'm sure Marisa will chime in with a comment) that this may have been one of the best things I have eaten in my entire life. It was so good, in fact, that I went back to Bouchon twice before leaving town to eat it again.

So, dinner at Bouchon Sunday night was followed by a brisk walk home and a good night's sleep.



I woke up early Monday morning, took a walk through town, and had another apricot yogurt parfait at Bouchon Bakery for breakfast. I went back to the house and got ready for a very much anticipated lunch meeting in St. Helena at the Culinary Institute of America. Who was my meeting with? Why, the infamous Stephen Durfee, of course. He took me on a tour of the CIA's classroom and kitchen facilities and we had a very nice lunch together. It was so nice to meet him, and to spend time in such a beautiful building. In fact, it was so great to meet him that I'm kind of feeling the need to re-do a certain dessert which caused me great agita (and for which I have blamed him because he was credited with inventing it) -- and do it in a more honorable way. Thanks, Stephen, for a great afternoon. I really appreciate it.

I had the rest of the afternoon to myself (my parents and my friend, Jon, left that morning, and Ron and Marisa were visiting our college friend, Richard, who owns Sonoma Organics) so I did a little shopping in St. Helena, drove the Silverado Trail for a bit, then plopped my butt on a stool at the bar at Bouchon and had a glass of wine and a dish of that phenomenal corn for my afternoon snack.

I went back to the house and took a nap while I waited for Ron and Marisa to get home. We had dinner reservations at Ad Hoc that night, and while I was a little sad to have missed Fried Chicken Night (the Monday night before), I knew the food would be good nonetheless.

As soon as we walked through the door at Ad Hoc, I immediately felt at home. The restaurant's manager Nick Dedier, greeted us and led us to our table. If anyone from the Thomas Keller Restaurant Group is reading this, let me take a moment right now to beg, plead, persuade, cajole, and offer whatever certain, ahem *favors* may sway you to PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF JOHN C. REILLY open an Ad Hoc in Washington, DC, for this was one of the best, most comfortable, most lovely and most perfect evenings I've ever had.

We started with a glass of champagne (we'd had to wait a minute or two for our table because the previous diners had made a mess of the space, so Nick saw to it that we had some bubbly, which was a very nice and unexpected touch), and gave us our menus so we could see what we were going to have. I also ordered a glass of Etude Pinot Noir rosé because both Russ Parsons and David Lebovitz had written recently about rosé in the LA Times and I wanted to give it a whirl (and now I'm a convert -- thanks, guys!).


Here's what we had to eat:

Jacobsen Orchards Stone Fruit Salad
-- fresh plums and nectarines on chopped romaine, general lee cucumbers, candied pecans with citrus mint dressing

Mishima Beef Sirloin Tip
-- with sautéed summer squash, rosa bianca eggplant, juliet tomatoes; tfl garden fingerling potatoes and chive butter

Carr Valley Cheese Benedictine

-- with marshall’s farm wildflower honey with k & j orchards gala apples

Warm Chocolate Brownie
-- with vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce


This was not even a home run; it was a freakin' grand slam and the World Cup and the NBA finals and the Oscars and a drum lesson with Stewart Copeland and a first kiss and the lottery and new lipstick and finding a $20 bill in the back pocket of your jeans and WOO-HOOOO!!! all rolled into one. Every single bite was fresh and extraordinarily good. The ambience was fantastic, and the music was so great -- it felt like someone had plugged in my iPod and played it throughout the restaurant all night. The staff was really great, and I'd go back there in a heartbeat. And, if Ad Hoc were to open in the DC area, I'd eat there at least once a week, because for $48 a person, it was a STEAL. We had a really great night, and yet another nice walk home in the cool night air.



I woke up Tuesday morning to the sound of my cellphone going badonkadonk. It was my birthday, and some of my friends forgot I was on the west coast and started calling at 7 a.m. east coast time, which is... well, you know... VERY EARLY in California. But I didn't care, because it was fun to get those messages. Especially when people sang to me. Ahem. You know who you are.

We sauntered down to Bouchon Bakery for our standard morning repast, and then scooted across the Yountville Cross Road and down the Silverado Trail until we got to the Stag's Leap Wine Cellars. The lovely Leah McNally invited us for a tour and tasting a few weeks prior to my coming out there, and we were so honored to spend our morning there seeing the vineyard, touring the facilities, and tasting the wines. Thank you, Leah, and Ben, who was a great host, as well.



We didn't know it beforehand, but we happened to be there on the day the Chardonnay grapes arrived for pressing and production, so they had a special "blessing of the wines" ceremony at which a priest did his thing and blessed the grapes, the workers, the owners, and the buyers. It was really neat to see, and we enjoyed meeting so many people whose hands and hearts go into some really wonderful wine.


After our wine tasting, we headed over to Taylor's Refresher on Route 29 where we shared a bleu cheese bacon burger, heirloom tomato sandwich, sweet potato fries, chocolate shake and myriad other foodstuffs to fill us up for the wine tastings to come. Sooooo delicious.....



After lunch, we did a tasting at Joseph Phelps (oh, that Insignia!) where we tasted some really great wine and saw the most beautiful little hummingbirds flitting from plant to plant, then drove down the Silverado Trail to get back home. We went back to the house and read and hung out listening to music for the rest of the afternoon before our last dinner together. We decided to go back to Bouchon one last time -- not just for the corn, but also to sit outside and watch the sunset and just enjoy the people watching and a relaxing dinner outside. Our server was really engaging and we had a great dinner. I had the Boudin, as well as a side of macaroni and cheese and a side of the CORN!

Here's the cute All-Clad dish the boudin came in. Must get me some of these:

Sorry I don't have a photo of the boudin -- it looked so good and I was so hungry, there was no time for photography. After our lovely dinner, we headed back to the house for laundry and packing, since we were leaving the following morning.

On Wednesday morning, Ron and Marisa left first for their 10-hour drive back up to Portland. I left shortly thereafter and got to SFO in record time -- enough so that I could hop on an earlier flight, which meant I got back home at 11 p.m. instead of the originally planned 1:30 a.m.

I had many, many hours on the plane to reflect on my time in Yountville and the Napa Valley. It was so wonderful to be able to have my first time at The French Laundry include my parents and my close friends. Because of the private dining room's space constrictions and some travel schedules, I couldn't have everyone there I wanted (hence the booking of a dinner at Per Se the following weekend for the rest of my besties... and I'll write about that next).

I can't wait to go back to Yountville. I'm the kind of person that when she vacations just likes to settle into a place. I'm not a big sightseer. Never have been. I don't consult magazines or make a list of the 25 things I MUST do or see in a certain locale. I just kind of hang. It's the most relaxing thing for me, and it helps me get a feel for a place. Even when I was a kid, all I wanted to do on vacations was hang out by the pool with my cheese and peanut butter crackers and read or people-watch -- even at freakin' Disney World. I'm just not activity girl, so being in a place like Napa is perfect, because I can come and go as I please and just revel in the experience of seeing people, eating great food, walking around, and enjoying the everyday.

So, Carol... you must be asking yourself... after all this time, what was it like to finally have dinner at The French Laundry?

It was incredible. And, almost indescribable.

I have spent nearly two years cooking my way through The French Laundry Cookbook -- getting to know the food, the process, the technique, the order, the methods, the stories, the people, and the nuances that help shape the experience. And, it's had a profound impact on me. I've met Michael Ruhlman. I've met Susie Heller. I've eaten at Per Se. I've met Chef Keller. I've been able to live this most amazing dream, and have my brain and my palate and my fingertips on the keyboard take me places I never even knew I wanted to go. Eating at The French Laundry for the first time was yet another step in that journey. It's not the apex. It's not the zenith. It's not the final chapter. It's not the end. It's an incredibly significant milepost in what has become something so very personal for me, it's really difficult to put into words and do it justice.

You'll see that I italicized the words "for the first time" above, because I do plan to go back again. I don't know when, but I will. There's so much more for me to learn from and experience at The French Laundry, and I look forward to the day when I can turn off Route 29 onto Madison Street again -- my hair a mess from the open car windows, my voice hoarse from singing along with the radio, my lips dry from all the dorktastic and anticipatory grinning, and know that I'm hungry for more, in every sense of the word.

* * * * *

Before I go,
MAJOR BIGTIME THANKS to my lovely and dearest friend, Marisa, who documented everything visually, while I tried to focus on the "wow, how the hell am I gonna write about all is?" Many of these photos are hers.

And, speaking of photos.... something pretty special arrived at my house while I was traveling. Wanna see what it is?


Yep. That's the Alinea cookbook. Believe it.



Stay tuned, kids. It's gonna get even more fun up in here.

Up Next: Continuing the birthday celebration at Per Se...

Read My Previous Post: Q&A with Carol, Part 3

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Q&A with Carol, Part Three

A few, quick administrative notes:

1) A big ole THANK YOU to everyone who emailed, called, IMed, or in some way sent me birthday wishes last week -- that was so incredibly kind and very sweet, and I'm hoping that I've gotten back to everyone individually. I've been traveling with limited access to email and Internet (which, admittedly, has been some kind of wonderful), and between my Blackberry and my not-always-perfect webmail server thingamabob, I may have lost a few emails here and there. Ooopsie.

2) I changed the text in my banner at the top of the page. It used to read "Can't get a rezzie at Thomas Keller's The French Laundry? Yeah, neither can I. Instead, I bought his cookbook and I'm making the menu at home." I figured since I have now eaten at The French Laundry, I needed to change the header to "keep it real," as the kids today like to say. I, however, like to say, "GET OFF MY LAWN!"

3) My actual birthday day was sandwiched in between two amazing dinners -- one at The French Laundry on Saturday the 16th and one at Per Se on Saturday the 23rd. I decided to turn 40 with great culinary gusto, and there was nowhere else I wanted to be. Making the pilgrimage to Yountville was an incredible experience that I'm still trying to find the words to describe, and the energy of New York as the backdrop to my dinner at Per Se made for an amazing evening and, collectively, the two dinners were the opening and closing chapters of the most memorable, and most personally fulfilling, birthday of my life. I surrounded myself with my family and closest friends, and celebrated what has been a pretty freakin' amazing year. I can't wait to tell you about it, and those posts are taking a long time to write because there's just so much to say.

4) That said, posting may be a little slower than normal over the next two weeks. Call me a tease, but them's the facts. Some renovations I was having done on my house while I was traveling didn't exactly happen on-schedule (do they ever?), so I can't get back into my house for another week or so, which means things will be a little whackadoodle schedule-wise for me. However, I know you'll want to come back to this very post time and time again if only to see this glorious, gossip-inducing photo that my friend, Heather, sent me in the hopes that I might someday soon have some engagement news to share with the world:


Ah, my Bloomie. Not a VP pick on either ticket, but still the president of my heart.

Did I just hear you throw up? Oh wait... that was me. Nevermind.

Alrighty then, let's get going with today's post. Doing this Q&A with you all has been so much fun for me. I hope you've enjoyed it, too. So without further ado, here's the final installment:


Q. If you could make a last meal what would it be?

A. It depends on the time of the year, because in the summer I would want it to be a bowl of fresh blackberries, a hunk of good and stinky cheese, grilled steak, corn on the cob with tarragon butter, a bottle of really great wine (Stag's Leap Wine Cellars' Cask 23 Cabernet Sauvignon comes to mind), and a few squares of dark chocolate for dessert. In the wintertime, I think I'd go for something like roasted marrow, shepherd's pie or cassoulet, mashed potatoes with garlic, homemade chocolate ice cream, and a really nice bottle of scotch (Macallan 30 single malt would do nicely, I believe).


Q. Going on the last-meal question which band would you have play?

A. I'd put together an all-star supergroup featuring Prince, Neil Peart, George Michael, Paul Hewson, Daniel Lanois, the guy who sang "Der Komissar," Aimee Mann, Michael Penn, Stewart Copeland, Air Supply, Eminem, Carly Simon, Janet Jackson, REO Speedwagon, Busta Rhymes, Boston, Steve Perry, Christina Aguilera, Don Henley, the Doobie Brothers, Chuck Brown, Lyle Lovett, Billy Idol, Al Green, Herbie Hancock, Jennifer Holliday, Jeffrey Osborne, Jenny Lewis, James Brown's band, Claudine Longet, Alison Moyet, Elvis Costello, Fiona Apple, whoever's still alive in Foreigner, Joaquin Phoenix filling in for Johnny Cash, Carole King, Grandmaster Flash, Madonna, Annie Lennox, Joe Cocker, Julie Andrews, Kate Pierson, Bananarama, Sheila E, Neko Case, Tone Loc, Manilow, Donny Osmond, Greg Kihn, Axl Rose, Marshall Crenshaw, Ted Nugent, Sebastian Bach, Robbie Williams, David Lee Roth, Eddie Van Halen, Seal, Ed Kowalczyk, LL Cool J, Darryl Hall, and I suppose John Oates, too, Ann and Nancy Wilson, Richard Marx, Jack Wagner, Rick Springfield, Pat Benatar, Justin Timberlake, Dennis DeYoung (and the rest of the boys from Styx, with the promise that they'll all get along), the Beastie Boys, Cyndi Lauper, Chaka Khan, David Bowie, Dianne Reeves, Dionne Warwick, the ghost of Karen Carpenter, Peter Gabriel, Donna Summer, Mel C, Phil Collins, Toni Tennille, Roger Daltrey, Trey Parker, Matt Stone, Curt Smith, Roland Orzibal, Thomas Dolby, a few of those DeBarge fellows, Tom Waits, The Pogues, whoever's still alive from Yes, ZZ Top .... and I'd make them write a song about me, perform and record it that night (while also shooting an awesome "Do They Know It's Christmas"/"Live Aid"-type video) then sell millions of copies to benefit a hunger relief organization. And, I'd also have it in Sebastian Bach's contract that he had to make out with me.


Q. Who would you invite to dine with you?

A. My family, my closest friends, and my dog. We'd eat in a grand house with glass walls overlooking the water in my favorite beach town.



Q. What was your biggest fear throughout this whole project?

A. When I first started doing this blog, I never wrote to anyone at The French Laundry to ask permission; I just did it. Then, one day (about 6 weeks into it), I got an email from Michael Ruhlman with the subject line "Your blog" and I almost passed out. I thought, for sure, it was some sort of cease and desist order or perhaps just an email from him along the lines of, "you are a crap cook and you should never write anything because you suck at writing, and also did I mention the crap cook bit? How about the sucky writing? Did I mention that? DID I?" I was afraid to open the email (I literally closed my laptop and hid it in another room for a few hours), but when I finally got up the courage to read the email, I was pleasantly surprised to find a very nice note from him which paved the way for me to be able to not just meet one of my literary heroes, but also honestly and gratefully being able now to call him my friend.

So, getting that particular email from Ruhlman that early in the blog's life showed me that my biggest fear was two-fold: I was afraid I wouldn't be able to honor this food and this book in the way it deserved and would thus be told to knock it off; and, I was also a little afraid to write in my own voice because I'd never really done it before and hoped I wouldn't suck too badly. When you do what I do for a living, you're always writing in someone else's voice about someone else's business or issue. I didn't know what it was like to write like me about my own stuff. A few weeks ago, I got an email from a friend with whom I worked nearly 20 years ago. We haven't seen or spoken to one another in at least fifteen years, if not longer. She'd Googled me, found this site, and said in her email to me that when she read through the entries it was like could hear me talking as if I were sitting right next to her in our old offices and it was 1991 all over again. Coming from an accomplished writer (and someone who knew me in my professional formative years), that tells me I'm doing something right -- and I think at the core of it all, that's all any of us wants to hear: that what we put out there is true to who we are.

I don't know how other writers feel about this, but I think it's hard to put yourself out there in writing, in this relatively new medium, in a really transparent way and be who you are, and not a cariacature of who you think you might be/want to be/are supposed to be/wish you were. But honestly, having the amazing support, feedback and participation from all of you (and some of you from the very first weeks) has alleviated any fear I might've had along the way. I feel incredibly lucky to be able to do this, and also to have such amazing, smart and funny folks join me along the way. This blog wouldn't exist if you all weren't reading it. Otherwise, I'd have folded it up and gone away ages ago.


Q. The earnest, respectful and thoughtful comments of your readers speak volumes about your blog. Seriously, do you even get trolls?

A. I love that someone asked this question (and thanks for the compliment leading up to it, because it's so true -- you guys are the best!). Do I ever get trolls? Nope. And I'm amazed by it. In the entire lifespan of this blog, I've only ever had to reject/delete four comments. Two were entirely inappropriate because they attacked other commenters for no reason. Another one was really disrespectful (and a tad threatening) toward me because I didn't have a positive experience making tripe. And, the last one had to be deleted/rejected because it went a little something like this: "lol i luv blogs of fud and h00rs and r u kute srsly?" It was after I got the "I know where you live you tripe-hating bitch" comment that I posted my Comments Policy because I think there's a certain social compact we all have with one another in life that doesn't always carry over online, and it should. I will be the first to admit that I've been guilty of being an anonymous bitch toward others from time to time online in the past, and you know what? It's not right, and I've knocked it off. If I'm gonna say something or comment about something, then I need to stand behind what I'm saying. So, I figured I need to walk the walk and be sure that what I say online is something I could honestly defend or say to a person's face if I were speaking to them directly.


Q. What part of this project did you love the most, and hate the most?

A. What I loved the most is being given the opportunity to cook amazing food, write about my adventures in the kitchen, and meet some pretty amazing people. I love being able to write about something I love that is mine and not a client's. I have loved being able to entertain in my home nearly every weekend for the past year and a half, and to have learned so much about food and cooking. I also loved that doing this blog and cooking every dish in The French Laundry Cookbook has changed my life in ways I'm not yet able to articulate, but that I see in random little moments when I least expect it. I love that doing this blog has made me aware of how different and much fuller my life is as a result of taking new kinds of risks.

What did I hate? Softshell crabs. I loved writing about the crabs, but, damnit, I hated making those stupid things. I'll never do that again. Never. Not even if Mike Bloomberg begged me to. That's how much I hated it.


Q. If someone offered you the chance to make a fabulous living cooking or writing, which one would you choose?

A. Writing. But, writing about cooking. I never wanted to cook professionally, as in work the line in a restaurant, but if I could find a way to incorporate writing and cooking, I'd be a pretty happy camper.


Q. Who or what are your biggest influences in your writing?

A. I'm largely influenced by reading great writing -- whether it's a book, newspaper or magazine piece, or an essay or blog post online. I also count among my influences the proximity to really great stories. I think because of what I do for a living, I can tend to be quite cynical and jaded about a lot of things -- and it's my job, quite frankly, to poke holes in things to make sure my clients have every i dotted and every t crossed, and that they're buttoned up and ready for action. So, I have a decent crap detector and a pretty solid nose for news, and I enjoy being able to ferret out what makes a good story and what doesn't. I consider myself fortunate to be one of those people who is surrounded by great stories every day, and great storytellers. It definitely has an influence on my writing.

But reading really strong writing has an influence on me because it motivates me to be better at what I do. I have a small stack of eleven books on the bookshelf next to my desk that serves as a constant reminder of the kind of writing I like -- whether it's the author's tone, style, sense of humor, or the way they tell a story. And they're not the great classics, or anything like that. They're simply books that have stuck with me for one reason or another, but largely because the writing made it memorable.


Q. Are you an avid reader of things non-food-related?

A. I like to think I am, although I've been spending quite a bit more of my free time in the kitchen these past 20 months than I used to, so I haven't been able to read as much as I'd like. I also feel like there isn't a lot of good fiction out there right now... or at least fiction that appeals to me and my interests. I just get tired of non-fiction every now and then, and I want something a little different. I'd welcome any fiction recommendations you guys have -- with the caveat that I really don't like sci-fi/fantasy, chick lit, abuse memoirs, anything that starts out "It was 1913 and while the rain was coming down hard on the streets of Berlin, a young boy in Chile was haunted by the ghost of his great-grandfather's mailman who carried with him envelopes of doom," or anything with the Oprah logo on it.

Books aside, I read four newspapers (the print editions) cover-to-cover each day, as well as more magazines than is probably healthy for any one person to admit they read. I do read food books and food-related literature from time to time, but I like a healthy balance of subjects/stories to read about.


Q. Any tips or advice for those of us who like to write but want to get better at it?

A. Write every day. Read Anne Lamott's Bird By Bird. And, find a good editor or a mentor who will be honest about your work, and who will pick it apart and edit to help it evolve to where it needs to go. I think you learn by doing, so really, write every day. Every day. The adage "practice makes perfect" exists for a reason.




Q. What made you pick The French Laundry Cookbook out of all the other tomes out there?

A. It's all in the timing, I suppose. You can read the story of how this whole blog started here. But I suppose the reason I was attracted to this book is because I thought it was impossible to cook from. And, I think you guys probably know me well enough by now to know that I'm the kind of person that if someone tells me I can't do something (even if the "someone" is just one of my other personalities), I'm stubborn enough to want to prove them wrong. And in this case, I felt like it was not just me doubting myself and/or suffering from general malaise in the kitchen, but also the mainstream consumer food media telling me through their programming and articles that real cooking is hard work and shouldn't be attempted because I'm clearly not smart enough. Apparently, processed foods and shortcuts are the way to go. In all honesty, it was either bitching about the state of dumbed-down food media to my friends (which I'd already done, and they were sick of hearing about it) or actually doing something about it. So, I decided to do something about it, and this is what clicked at that exact moment.

The French Laundry Cookbook, at first approach, is incredibly difficult, intimidating, a tad frightening and completely perfect, and made me feel like I had no clue what I was doing... until I got over myself and actually COOKED FROM IT. And the big secret of it all? None of these dishes are impossible for a home cook. It's true. It's all in the patience, organization, and willingness to take risk and try doing something you haven't before... and, the dedication to not half-assing it, and really trying to do it right, because there are reasons these dishes are done the way they are -- and I'm a far better cook (and a far better person, honestly) for having worked my way culinaryily and mentally through this book. It's not for everybody, but it was right for me.


Q. How has cooking from The French Laundry Cookbook changed your approach to cooking, and, aside from learning new techniques, how has it made you a better cook?

A. If anything, it's taught me that being a neat freak and a compulsive, list-making, hyper-organized planning maniac has its benefits! Doing this project has been illuminating in so many ways; let me see if I can capture them all...

It's made me a better cook because I've always wanted to be able to go to the market and be able to see an eggplant and instinctively know sixteen different ways I could do eggplant and be able to pick up all those ingredients while I was there, as well, without relying on a specific recipe from a magazine or book.

It's made me a better cook because I've really slowed down and thrown off the cloak of laziness and learned to love my kitchen all over again. It can be really hard sometimes to get excited about food and nourishment when you work all day, and for those who have kids, manage a job and your family and still be able to make something delicious when you come home at night. However, I think sometimes we can all fall into a trap of thinking that making good food is difficult, and it's really not. I applaud people (especially all those parents out there) who can get great food into themselves and their families without any stupid gimmicks or processed crap. It's not always easy for us single folk either, because so many of us are busy with a multitude of things and sometimes it's just easier to take the path of least resistance. But I've found great reward in reprioritizing some things in my life, and food is one of them. I don't eat in front of the TV anymore -- I set a place at the table (even if it's just me), and I pay attention to what I'm eating. Sometimes I read; sometimes I listen to music; but mostly, I have made it a priority to make time to cook well and eat well, and it's really made a difference in my overall health and happiness.

During the week, it might not be possible for any of us to cook the kinds of adventurous, more complex foods we want to try. But if this project has taught me anything, it's shown me that there is great reward in setting aside an entire Saturday to cook and have people over for dinner that night, and feel really good about what I put on the table.


Q. What's your ONE best piece of advice to anyone looking to cook on The French Laundry Cookbook level?

A. Yeah, right. Like I'm only gonna be able to narrow it down to ONE thing. You'll be lucky if I can even stay on topi...... hey, look, a bunny! I would say: have fun, and be willing to learn and make mistakes. The earth won't stop turning if you screw up lobster jelly. I'm living proof of that. Are some mistakes or mishaps more costly than others? Absolutely. But that's just one possible outcome of taking risks, I suppose. Laugh at your mistakes, learn from them, and try it again or move on to something else. OH! And this applies to any kind of cooking projects or endeavors: always, always, always start with a clean sink, an empty dishwasher and an empty trashcan. You're welcome.


Q. Some recipes have earned a place in your permanent repertoire. What techniques from The French Laundry Cookbook are now indispensable for you?

A. I talked about this a little bit in my last Q&A, but I do think, upon reflection, that now I tend to strain things more than I used to. I also steep my lobsters instead of just tossing them in a pot of boiling water. The recipes for stock in The French Laundry Cookbook are the best I've ever made, so I'm sticking with those from now on. And, even though it might not be detectable in my photos, my knife skills have gotten so much better, so that's an added bonus.


Q. Do you think you'll ever cook any of the recipes from The French Laundry Cookbook again once the project is over? Which ones?

A. Absofreakinlutley. Creamy Maine Lobster Broth, Gougères, Cream of Walnut Soup, and the Foie Gras with Pickled Cherries, because in my mind they're all pretty easy to do and in their simplicity are quite stunning and impressive while being really good and not fear-inducing for non-adventurous eater friends of mine. I'll also probably do the Maine Lobster Pancakes again when pea shoots are back in season because they are really easy, too. It's probably easier to list the things I wouldn't make again (softshell crabs, tripe).




Q. Are you going to give watermelon lipstick, etc. a shot when Keller's new book comes out?

A. You bet. Now, who wants to buy me a Cryovac machine?!?!?! Anyone? Anyone? But in all seriousness, I hope Thomas Keller's new book Under Pressure will have an important impact on the home kitchen. It may not happen right away, but I think it will, at the very least, get people thinking about cooking sous vide. The equipment involved in making something restaurant-quality sous vide is cost-prohibitive for many, and Chef Keller was the first to say that at an embargoed press event for the book back in June. Cryovac machines are not cheap, and a new immersion circulator can run anywhere from $1,200-2,500. However, there are ways a home cook can cook sous vide. In fact, I've already cooked sous vide in this very blog -- before I really connected the dots in knowing I was using this technique.

Chef Keller was also very clear in saying that you can't use a FoodSaver to vacuum-pack your food to prep it to cook sous vide because in addition to sucking out all the air, it also sucks out moisture. So, the trick is to learn how to wrap food tightly in Saran Wrap and be patient with keeping the proper temperature of the water or whatever liquid it is you're cooking in.

I'll write more about and cook from Under Pressure as part of the new blog/website/etc. that I'll roll out this fall, so stay tuned. I think it's exciting stuff, and having recently eaten some surprising food (corn!) done sous vide, I can say it yields the most incredible flavor. It really is a phenomenal technique/process and I'm excited about trying it.


Q. Would you ever consider a similar undertaking like this again? Cooking your way through an El Bulli volume, perhaps? (Although you'd need a lab, not a kitchen, for that)

A. Without giving too much away, yes, I would consider a similar undertaking.... only, I've got to up the ante, now don't I? So, while I may not cook my way through an entire El Bulli volume, I am going to continue to push past my comfort zone to see what I'm capable of in some new arenas. I'll tell you more about it in the fall.... and yes, it is KILLING ME not to be able to talk about it in great detail right now. There are just some pieces that need to fall into place before that happens, so it's good I improved my patience in the kitchen while cooking my way through this book or else I'd be a basket case by now with the anticipay-ay-tion. You already know it's going to involve this and this... the rest you'll just have to wait for.


Q. What's the latest on the TV deal?

A. The latest is that we're "having conversations" with a few media entities, and that's all I can say right now.


Q. Are you working on a book deal?


A. I'm "having conversations" with a few media entities, and that's all I can say right now.



Q. When you're done, how long will the blog stay online, or are you planning to take it down?

A. I have no plans whatsoever to take down the blog. I doubt once I'm done that I'll update it (unless, of course, a new, revised edition of the book comes out with new recipes, then all bets are off and this puppy will be up and running again full-force). But I'll certainly keep it up and running for reference purposes as long as the internet will allow... which is maybe forever.

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Quite a few of you asked about my top 5 favorite dishes, or what I would recommend someone start out with to get their feet wet. I'm going to do a post in a few weeks (once I'm done cooking every dish) that will outline all these things -- I'll tell you my favorites, my least favorites, which ones are good for those ready to jump in and try something, and I'll also put together a few suggested multiple-course menus for you, since some folks asked about that.

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