Smitten Kitchen Cakes

My first SmittenKitchen baking attempt was a disaster; I thought Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes would be perfect for St Patrick’s Day, considering my love of Jameson, Bailey’s, and stout beer, but my attempt ended up severely stuck the silicone (i.e. notoriously non stick) cups.  However, I was determined to enjoy some of the delicious cakes I’ve seen since I started reading her site.  My second recipe was chosen by my husband for his birthday in August (although I ended up making the cake a few weeks later).  Thankfully he chose a single layer affair without any fancy decorations.  The results were delightful and sentimental (it tasted so much like a torte from the old, but now defunct, Old Europe that I used to eat on our early dates).  This cake was easy, but it tasted like a professional effort.  It is definitely one of my favorite cakes for both its appearance and taste.

For our third legal anniversary, we pondered and agonized over several delectable cakes, and we ended up with the Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake.  The original recipe is for a three layer cake, but I only have two round pans so I made two layers and some cupcakes.  Although I tried to eyeball it, the batter distribution between the pans wasn’t equal which resulted in one layer being much thicker than the other.  I did not overfill the cupcake tins, but the silicone cups were not again not as non stick as I thought they should be when I purchased them.  I also tweaked the recipe a bit: unsweetened not too smooth peanut butter (in lieu of smooth commercial peanut butter) and an entire cup less of confectioner’s sugar for the frosting (next time I will probably knock it back an additional cup).  Deb at SmittenKitchen provides a page of layer cake tips as well as advice with each recipe that have really helped me make better looking cakes.

Sunday at The Slanted Door

Our Sunday was a could’ve, should’ve day.  First we slept in a bit later than we should’ve, second we could’ve gotten bagels for breakfast the night before.  We strolled down to Union Square to catch a bus to the Fisherman’s Wharf where we going to rent bikes to ride through the Presidio and across the Golden Gate Bridge down into Sausalito to enjoy a mid afternoon lunch and catch the ferry back; however, it was my lack of food and general bitchiness that threw a wrench into our plans this time.  I think I was worried about whether my out of shape body would be able to bike the few miles.  So instead we walked down the Embarcadero in the blazing sun and against the flow of pedestrian traffic away from the gapping tourist trap of Fisherman’s Wharf.  At the Ferry Building, things suddenly looked much brighter (figuratively as I don’t think it could’ve gotten much brighter literally).

The Slanted Door beckoned our empty bellies, but the thirty minute wait directed us to the bar.  I began with a kir royale to quench my thirst, and my husband went with an unfamiliar wheat beer.  Our seat at the bar was directly in front of the raw prep station so we both ordered a half dozen raw oysters; I opted for West Coast options which were all quite delicious, and my husband ordered the plate as is and also enjoyed it thoroughly.  With our fortune at the raw bar, we decided to share a live scallop; it was absolutely heavenly with its fresh creamy saltiness.  If I could regularly eat raw animal this tasty, I would never dream of giving up flesh.  Following with the Bay Area obsession, my next drink was Summer on the Danube which consisted of sparkling wine and elderberry liqueur; I do now love elderberry liqueur.  For my next dish I moved to the hot side and ordered the bánh xèo (Vietnamese egg crepe); the food runner was kind enough to tell me how it is normally eaten as I most likely would’ve skipped the leaf lettuce completely which would have greatly taken away from the dish.  The crepe is sliced then wrapped in the leaf lettuce then dipped in the sauce then eaten.  All of the flavors came together to make this dish my favorite from the trip, from the slight bitterness of the lettuce to the earthiness of the mung bean sprouts to the clean crispness of the mint and basil leaves to the sweet, spicy ginger of the dipping sauce to the greasiness of the cooked crispy egg.  I have not stopped craving this, even after I attempted to make a vegan alternative that was less than awesome.  The ginger pushed me into a dark and stormy, which is a drink that has sentimental value; I first enjoyed it the week before we married in Key West, and this trip to our friends’ wedding doubled as a big three (legal) years anniversary celebration for us (albeit a couple of weeks before the actual date).  This version is the epitome of a dark and stormy.  Their house made ginger syrup is the secret; it has such a powerful ginger punch that cuts through and combines with the sweetness of the dark rum and the soda to make bliss in a cup.  After the dark and stormy and the egg crepe, my tofu entree was good, but I really only remember the exotic sweetness of the lemongrass.  Our service was slow with many long moments of trying to get our bartender/server’s attention to order the next drink or dish or get the check; however, the food was wonderful.

We slowly strolled out of the Ferry Building into the bright sunshine and decided since we were in the Financial District we might as well hit the SFMoMA.  Much like the MoMA, the SFMoMA was overwhelming at times.  I enjoyed many of the pieces, but others annoyed me.  One piece was a short Airstream style travel trailer; another was a colorful painting that I initially liked, so I read the placard for it to discover the protrusion was a piece of elephant dung.  The photography exhibits were the highlight and made the admission (twenty dollars including the five dollar surcharge for the Richard Avedon exhibit) worth it.  Unlike many museums, the SFMoMA allows non flash photography.

Exhausted from all the walking and alcohol, we walked through the Yerba Buena Gardens but decided to skip through it.  We caught the F line back to the Embarcadero so I could check out the Diego Rivera murals in the Rincon Center (another example of us backtracking).  We then rode the California car up to Nob Hill so we could see the Fountain of the Turtles and Grace Cathedral.  The cathedral was amazing and humbling; I respect churches that spend all their money on doing good works, but I love and cherish the magnificent buildings that religious congregations build.  I took photos of the doors called The Gates of Paradise, but I felt disrespectful taking photos of the interior.

After the cathedral, we returned to the apartment for a refreshing 7 and ginger and showers.  For dinner we decided that nothing could possibly top our lunch plus we were reeling from the cost; Uncle Vito’s on Powell St seemed like a good place for cheap eats.  Cheap they were, but even so the service and food left much to be desired.  The service I can forgive, because it was cheap.  The food, however, was bland, boring, and not even worth repeating.  If ever in San Francisco, avoid Uncle Vito’s.

Chinatown and Top of the Mark

On Wednesday, my honey dubbed me Drill Sergeant because I was determined to take in as much of the city as we could during our week stay (with days eaten by travel, wedding events, and weather) so before we had to get ready for the 40 minute BART ride to Pleasant Hill, we checked out Union Square and Chinatown.  My favorite part about San Francisco’s and Vancouver’s Chinatowns were the gates and the bilingual street signs (although Vancouver has a better gate).  I also loved how CitiBank and Bank of America gussied up their buildings (the Bank of America we drove past in the Castro actually had rainbow flags hanging in the lobby).  For his lunch and dim sum fix, my honey ate at the Four Seas; I did not partake as I was not yet hungry, but the service was abysmal.  Although we arrived at lunch, he only saw two dim sum trays before our time constraints required us to leave.  After several minutes of being by passed I gave my credit card to the hostess which she delivered to the wait staff; we waited another several minutes for someone to appear with the receipt.  A lady we had not seen arrived with our check, but rather than drop it she hovered over our table while my husband completed it.

After all the waiting and watching him eat, I realized that I might not be eating for several hours (depending on the wedding reception fare) so we wondered around Chinatown making our way back to North Beach, but Italian wasn’t calling my name.  Somehow (I cannot be trusted to navigate), we missed Portsmouth Square but (walked several blocks north and out of the way and) found Washington Square and St Peter and St Paul Church so we caught a bus back down Columbus where I did take this neato shoot of Cafe Zoetrope and the TransAmerica Pyramid.

Heading back to the apartment, we caught the California car that led us to the Top of the Mark which we had missed on our previous day’s itinerary as a drink spot.  I am glad we visited during the day as my honey took some gorgeous photographs of the city.  I enjoyed a lovely fourteen dollar Valley salad (baby spinach, grilled endive, Point Reyes Bleu, tomatoes, and candied walnuts)  along with my fourteen dollar a glass pinot noir.  I must say that the salad was delicious with a surprisingly generous portion, and my pinot noir was rather tasty (Gloria Ferrar).  I decided to forgo the $23 a glass Moet White Star (please note this bottle retails for around $60), but I did understand that I was paying for the breath taking views not whatever was being served.  In fact our server assumed we just wanted to take the pretty pictures as he brought us our drinks and the check before I had a chance to order lunch.

After such delightful daytime views, I insisted we return for evening views.  Unfortunately, the loudest New Englanders imaginable sat one table away recalling their days of drunken debauchery; however, I did get to sample a 12 year old Jameson pour with my molten chocolate cake.  The pour wasn’t as enjoyable as I wanted (it was more like scotch than my beloved Jameson), and the cake was dry and missing the super chocolate divinity of the last molten cake I enjoyed (thanks Rezaz).  My honey did enjoy his $13 Mojito more than his $10 chardonnay from our previous visit.

Climate Change

The facts supporting climate change have been widely reported across numerous media outlets; I wanted to post this to add one more blog to the list in support of making drastic changes to our lifestyles.

Climate change is just one of the many ills our society suffers because of our addiction with fossil fuels.  Looking for purportedly cheap coal, we send fellow citizens to work in coal mines; once the vein dies or becomes too expensive, we raze the mountains and dump the top into the surrounding valleys creating wastelands in lieu of forested habitats.  Those stream beds supply someone’s water somewhere in the chain are then filled with poisons and waste from the mining, and during rainy years like this one the fills can create huge landslides (which if it doesn’t kill you isn’t covered under a homeowner’s policy).

Our love of the automobile has lead us to build massive expanses of blacktop.  The power of the car has allowed us to move further and further from work and commercial centers which leads to more traffic congestion then demand for less congested roadways.  The fuel for these vehicles will not last forever, and even if it did, its exhaust is killing us.  Furthermore is the fuel worth the national security risk; what would the economy do if for whatever crazy reason OPEC decided to stick it to us tomorrow?  Public transportation was squashed by domestic automakers, and many people still argue public transportation will never be self-sustaining (thanks for a good jab, Doug Gibson!).  Funny how the sweetheart lease deals we make with big oil doesn’t impugn them.  However, as our population grows the stress on the current roadways will increase while the demand for housing increases, and no one wants to live near the noise and smell of major roadway.

Our food is tied closely to energy prices because almost everything Americans eat is soaked in oil starting from the time the seeds are delivered from Monsanto to their drive to your home in plastic bags in the back of your car.  If you are eating processed foods then you have even more oil on your hands not to mention the spare tire around your middle.

Even if our elected officials refuse to act, we can each do something small like grow some food, bring your own boxes and bags to the store, do without the car, or insulate your home.  These little things when compounded will help, but a phone call or email to elected officials can’t hurt.

Wine Country

Thursday forced us to split up for pre-wedding events; the boys went golfing at Lincoln Park (the fog killed all Golden Gate Bridge photo ops), and the ladies were driven around by a lovely designated driver of a bridesmaid to three Dry Creek Valley wineries followed by a truncated Muir Woods visit (we arrived so late thanks to the congestion we didn’t even have to pay the $5 admission).  Our first winery was Dry Creek Vineyard; this was my first wine tasting (thanks Biltmore for being so understaffed and overcrowded!)  Unfortunately, we did have to pay at each winery (unless you purchased a bottle or more), but at Dry Creek we were able to choose which wines we wanted to sample.  I ended up buying a bottle of their chenin blanc at a grocery store, and at 12.50 I think it’s a nice little bottle.  Our next stop was a short walk across the street at Passalacqua; it reminded me of Biltmore: the grounds were much better than the wine.  Our final stop was Forchini, and it combined a lovely tasting area with pleasant wines.  The tasting room was closed when we pulled up, but by the time our awesome driver got the fifteen passenger van turned around in the small driveway, we were flagged down by (who I assume was) Jim Forchini.  We ate our picnic lunches on his shaded patio, and Jim poured us several glasses of his wines.  With all of the wines he gave what sounded like detailed discussions of the wine making.  I really enjoyed the chardonnay, cabernet sauvignon, and reserve zinfandel; much to my surprise I preferred the cab to his Chianti styled Papa Nonno.  I thought it was cool that the Forchini wines are estate bottled, and they sell their chardonnay grapes to Sonoma-Cutrer (my overpriced chardonnay of choice).  On our return trip we drove over the Golden Gate Bridge, but the fog was so thick that even driving over the bridge, one would have been hard pressed to identify it.

After wine country and Muir Woods, the ladies joined the boys at a dive bar briefly before we adjourned to our twenty top dinner reservation at a sushi restaurant in the Noe Valley, Hamano Sushi.  Of course in classic cliched fashion the boys failed to communicate our dinner reservervations so all twenty of us crowded the tiny doorway to wait for the restaurant to find a solution.  The restaurant threw together several tables with room for most of our party, but the North Carolina contingent ate apart in lieu of being crammed beside the stairs.  The sushi was much cheaper than in North Carolina according to my darling husband (however, we spent more than we would have at a normal sushi outing), but I cannot say that the quality was significantly better.  The selection of nigiri, however, was another plus: I had my first toro.  Of course my first encounter comes as my love of sushi and flesh in general is waning; therefore, I will not be reviewing Hamano other than to say they did a wonderful job of handling our mob.

After our long days and not really knowing which buses to take, we took our second cab ride of the trip home.

Wednesday in the Park

On our first full day we woke early to buy our seven day MUNI passes ($24 a piece for unlimited rides, including the $5 per ride cable cars!) and catch the 71 bus down to the Haight-Ashbury for my totally touristy photo and our adventures in Golden Gate Park.  We arrived too early in the morning for the Haight; the entire population consisted of bums and closed store fronts so I was too afraid to take my touristy photo for fear of drawing the pan handlers.  We walked around a bit waiting for the San Francisco Cyclery to open at 10am.  The morning was cold and foggy (and it didn’t really change as the day progressed), but we were prepared with jackets and pants.  We visited the serene beauty of the AIDS Memorial Grove;  it was much larger than I had envisioned.  My honey took some lovely photos with my favorite below.

AIDS Grove dry stream bed

Upon our return to our bikes (they are not allowed in the hallowed ground of the grove), we promptly biked right past our next destination, the Japanese Tea Garden.  After our confrontation with 19th Avenue we turned around and found the entrance.  The Japanese Tea Garden is quite lovely, although not as lovely as the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden in Vancouver.  However, there is a funding difference (the Chinese Garden cost double the Japanese Garden), and the Japanese Tea Garden was full of pretty scenes.

round bridge in the Japanese Tea Garden at Golden Gate Park

Due to time constraints, we by-passed the De Young Museum (although missing Tutankhamun was surely a mistake) and skipped across the Temple of Music Pavilion to the California Academy of Sciences.  The twenty-five dollar admission for adults (discounted by $3 for using public transit!) covers the entire building which houses the  Steinburg Aquarium, Morrison Planetarium, the Living Roof, and the Rainforest.  We both fell asleep during the Planetarium, but otherwise I felt the money was well spent.  The main draw for me was the Steinburg Aquarium, and I was not disappointed (I still prefer Vancouver’s Aquarium).  When you add the four story rainforest, it was certainly worth it.  My wonderful husband took these photos from the aquarium and rainforest.

The fare at the California Academy of Sciences cafeteria brought to mind ski resort food, so famished we rode down JFK Avenue to Rainbow Falls in route to the windmills when the groom called to arrange a meet up after they obtained their marriage license (sadly they drank across the bay).  My original itinerary had called for a lunch near Stow Lake, but we didn’t pack a picnic; with the fog we would not have been able to enjoy sunset at the Cliff House either so we turned around and headed back to the to the Conservatory of Flowers.  I oohed and ahhed over the free outdoor dahlia garden, but my husband insisted sustenance was the next order of business so we skipped the conservatory, returned the bikes, and hoped on the 71 Muni back to Union Square.  Below are a few of my favorite dahlias.

After a few cold ones back at the apartment, my honey was ready to get his raw on so we walked to Swan Oyster Depot only to be turned away.  They close start breaking down at around 4:30 and close the door at 5!  We stopped into the nearest doorway for a consolatory drink and something, anything for our empty bellies.  We sat at the bar in an attempt to get more prompt service, but alas, twas not the case.  The bartender was friendly enough, but she was kept busy by a large party elsewhere in the restaurant so we were attended by her and a manager.  I hadn’t really settled into a drink groove yet, so I perused their specialities and settled on a San Francisco sunrise (grapefruit juice, tequila, and grenadine) while my partner in dine had a local beer.  While we were waiting for the appetizers we had ordered we watched the manager restock the bar.  First she pulled out the big bottle of Patron and filled then fifth up and returned it to its place, then I watched as she took down a small bottle of Bailey’s and restocked it from a handle of Carolans!  With coffee, Carolans and Baileys are close enough; with a rocks pour, however, the difference is major, not to mention the price difference.  I’m not naive enough to think that restaurants don’t pull the old switcheroo, but a complimentary bottle of ketchup is a far cry from a $7 drink.  The food was fine (raw oysters for him and eggplant rollatini for me), but it wasn’t anything that one could not find in any number of restaurants in any number of cities across the country.  The service left much to be desired, and the deception made us regret ordering our food.

Hearty, filling Italian seemed like the best possible meal after our chilling day of biking around the park so North Beach beckoned.  I also got to go to City Lights and purchase a book.  We walked a few blocks from City Lights to Trattoria Pinochio.  Although I did not find the service at any of the other restaurants stellar, the staff of Trattoria Pinochio was on point.  They were exceptionally professional and timely without any annoying hovering; plates and silverware were removed once we were done, and our drinks (both water and adult) were filled as needed.  I do believe that the Kir Royale (I couldn’t drink enough sparkling wine the entire trip) I ordered was actually the Pinocchio Fantasia (the umbiquitous elderberry flower liqueur and sparkling wine) that I ordered later in the meal, but that was the only perceived service gaffe.  I ordered the caesar salad, but I ended up eating a good portion of his calamari.  The calamari was breaded lightly (not as lightly as Nona Mia’s) and served with an aioli and marinara; the marina was a perfect mix of spicy and tomato, and the aioli tasted much like I remember store bought mayonnaise tasting (albeit with herbs and a touch more lemon flavor).  My caesar was forgettable.  My gnocchi made up for the caesar with its pillowy texture, but much to my dismay the marinara served with my gnocchi wasn’t the same as the calamari sauce.  Instead I received an overly sweetened sauce, but I still enjoyed the dish overall.  Even though the portions of each course were generous, I still had tiramisu for dessert; while it didn’t live up to my La Caterina Trattoria memory it was better than most.

Olea

Part Two of my much anticipated series on our magnificent San Francisco vacation.  This installment consists of our dining experience at Olea.

After our grueling day of flying, we stayed close to the apartment for dinner.  Olea is a bright, little hole in the wall at the corner of California and Larkin Streets (although please strike from your mental image any dinginess); our first dinner in San Francisco was a lovely welcome.  In my husband’s eagerness to get his seafood fix covered he chose the clam  and chorizo appetizer with the familiar Duvel for his drink.  I chose the Fiddlehead Sauvignon Blanc (of which I recall nothing either good or bad), but none of the appetizers called my name.  Instead I chose to save room for the dessert: Gateau Breton.  For my main course I chose the vegan option (mind you this was not a vegetarian restaurant), a nice quinoa vegetable medley; it was light and tasty, but I regularly make a comparable dish at home so I wasn’t overly impressed with the dish.  The quinoa was fluffier than my home style preparation, but the plating was identical (as you can see from the crappy photo just dump it into a bowl).  My dessert, the best part of the meal, was buttery, much like a heavy pound cake.  The delightful tartness of the fruit sauce cut through the overpowering buttery flavor to create a lovely dessert, but the cake was served with slightly less sauce than required to complement it.  My husband shared my cake assessment; he thoroughly enjoyed his duck (it was a fair portion, too), but I did not partake.  Our server handled the entire thirty seat restaurant as host, server, and buser well.  Halfway through our meal a group of eight or so high heeled and tight skirted women descended upon Olea, and our server continued to run the front of house smoothly.

Olea Quinoa

Olea Duck

Olea Gateau Breton

Change the World Wednesdays

I’ve been slack about posting the Change the World Wednesday Challenges from Reduce Footprints, but this week the challenge involves food.  This week if you are an omnivore then go vegetarian one full day, and if you regularly eat veg then go vegan one full day.  Our household will go vegan as much as possible this week (cheese is something I cannot live without).

My extended family and the other meat eaters in my life seem to get hung up on the “missing” protein and fear of tofu.  Just like chicken that isn’t properly cooked and seasoned, tofu will not taste good.  Another issue with tofu seems to be texture; we use extra firm almost all of the time even for marinara (it gets pureed in with the rest of the veggies using the immersion blender).  To make tofu more firm and chewy, press it to remove excess water (between your hands or with a weight) then freeze it.  My husband also likes to bake it for 30 minutes on 350F in a flavorful liquid then add it to the stir fry or salad.

Earlier this week I threw together a nice fresh little meal of quinoa and baked tofu; I messed up by not making enough for lunch the next day.  We had two servings each for a dinner.  Below is the recipe.

Papaya Quinoa

• 1 cup quinoa, rinsed
• 1 cup papaya juice (feel to substitute the fruit juice of your choice)
• .25 cup water
• 1 pound extra firm tofu
• 1 tablespoon tamari or soy sauce
• 2 gloves garlic, peeled and minced
• 1″ fresh ginger root, peeled and minced
• 1 tablespoon oil
• 1 yellow onion, peeled and minced
• 6 or so leaves of kale, de-stemmed and chopped
• 4 carrots, peeled and chopped

Preheat the oven to 350F.  Pour the quinoa into a strainer and rinse it for a few minutes to remove the bitter coating (better safe than sorry on the rinsing because if you skimp you will ruin the entire dish; I speak from sad experience).  Move into a medium sized saucepan and toast for a few minutes over medium heat.  While the quinoa is toasting, slice the tofu into four slabs and press the excess water.  Back to the quinoa, add .75 cups of juice and the .25 cup of water to the pan then increase the heat to high and bring to a boil.  Once it boils, stir it once or twice then reduce heat to medium and cover and allow to cook until the liquid is absorbed (twenty or so minutes).  Once done set aside.

In the meantime, place the tofu in a glass baking dish and cover with the rest of the juice, tamari, garlic, and ginger.  Turn the tofu to be sure both sides are exposed to the liquid.  Bake for about thirty minutes, flipping the tofu halfway through.  It is done when it has a nice crust and smells yummy.

After you turn the tofu at the halfway point, heat the oil over medium heat in your favorite skillet (we can’t live without our seasoned cast iron one). Begin preparing and cutting your vegetables then add them as you cut them.  Grind the pepper over the veggies and allow to cook over medium-low.  By the time the kale’s green has brightened, your tofu should be done.  Cube it and add the entire baking dish to the veggies.  Stir in the coriander and the quinoa and serve.

Tempeh

The next vegetable protein I discovered was tempeh.  While it is still a soy protein, it has a solid texture and more of its own flavor (although still very mild).  We usually get the flax seed flavor for its omega-3 punch.  The first tempeh dishes I cooked I just subbed tempeh for tofu in stir fry.  However, I think tempeh lends itself to sandwiches since it comes in nice square or rectangular packages, and I would much rather have tempeh in my burrito than tofu.

Tempeh Sandwich

• 2 tablespoons miso (I prefer something milder than red, like chickpea or white)
• 4 tablespoon water
• 1 tablespoon lemon or lime juice
• 2 tablespoons tahini
• 1 pound tempeh
• 1 teaspoon oil
• 1-3 cloves garlic
• eight slices of thick, hearty bread
• 1 ripe avocado
• half of a red onion (or less depending on taste)
• 1 cup spinach

Combine the miso, water, and lemon juice to make a paste.  Stir in the tahini.  This is a riff on a dressing recipe from Miso Master, and I usually don’t measure it but rather taste it.  Slice the tempeh into half crosswise, making two rectangles then divide those into four thinner pieces (like dividing a cake layer).  Cook these in a skillet with oil and garlic until they have a nice crusty exterior or bake or grill them.  Divide all of the ingredients for four sandwiches and assemble them without the miso spread as heat kills the beneficial bacteria in miso.  Toss as many onto a panini press as it will hold and toast the bread for a few minutes.  For our wedding we received a Forman grill which works great as a panini press, but before that I would’ve tossed the sandwich into the skillet and used a spatula and some elbow grease and flipped it to toast both sides.  Once it has been toasted spread the miso spread on the top slice then reassemble and cut diagonally for eating ease.  For a vegetarian option, I love this with manchego.

Seitan

My most recent vegetable protein find and probably my favorite is seitan.  It is the meatiest of the vegetable proteins, and as such it lends itself to more fine dining applications, although I think it is just perfect in my lentil and peanut butter stir fry and seitan phillies (even without cheese).  The Laughing Seed works magic and turns seitan into soysage, which I think is so similar to grocery store sausage patties from my childhood that they are perfect for someone scared of vegetarian cuisine.  In the winter I make a delicious stew that I envision should be made with game, but between the mushrooms, seitan, rosemary, and red wine there is no need for game.  The Co-op has had some amazing shiitakes for the past few weeks, so for my honey’s birthday I made him the mushroom bourguignon from SmittenKitchen (I didn’t take any photos, though).  With shiitakes being a bit pricey, I added much cheaper seitan to fill the dish out.  Homemade seitan is really easy to make, especially if you purchase the wheat gluten rather than make your own, but unless you have a pan and the storage to make pounds I think it is more cost effective to purchase it.

mushroom bourguignon from the archives

When thinking about vegetable protein, please don’t limit yourself to the “meat substitutes”.  Lentils, chickpeas, fava beans, mung beans, and quinoa among other grains and beans are fairly good sources of protein with none (or substantially less) of the fat found in animal protein (not to mention the cost benefit).

Zambra

I love eating at Zambra; the ambiance is malleable.  If you sit at one of the banquette tables, it is cozy and romantic and exotic and possibly private (depending on how busy they are), but the open dining area works well for parties too (tapas are so conducive to sharing).  Either way you should order a bottle of wine because the cocktails are pricey (albeit creative and tasty).  While the expansiveness of the wine list can be intimidating, Zambra has plenty of under $30 selections scattered throughout the higher and much higher priced wines.  For me I like wine, and with all the wines to choose from I have no desire to spend much more than $30 a bottle at a restaurant especially knowing full well that the mark up is so high (e.g., The Marketplace and the $30 2006 Carro Tinto I drank retails for about $10).  However, a restaurant cannot hope to win a Wine Spectator Award of Excellence without a pricey wine list.

For a picky eater like myself, Zambra poses a special challenge in that I cannot order the same item (or items) repeatedly because their menu changes nightly, and they run specials on top of the nightly refreshed menu.  On our visit last week we shared the cheese plate, fried panko encrusted tofu with garam masala, an arugula salad (I didn’t write it down so I only remember that it had some nuts, berries, and cheese), seasoned chickpeas (roasted red peppers, spinach, and my first preserved lemons) and a mushroom and edamame saute with sweet potato wontons; my honey had a flesh fest with pork belly, lamb tacos, and sesame encrusted scallops.

I enjoyed all of dishes I sampled (although I did not interfere with the flesh fest).  Other than a sodium overload with the mushroom saute all of the tapas were delicious, and even the super salty saute was edible unlike the duck confit from our last visit a while back.  The preserved lemons were quite a shock with their strong bitter briny lemon flavor, but they balanced with the chickpeas.  For beauty and presentation, the scallops win hands down; he received three large diver scallops crusted with sesame and panko framing bright green avocado slices, which were wonderfully ripe and creamy.

Our service left a bit to be desired; he had difficulty opening the wine bottle, which isn’t too bad in and of itself but  to increase leverage he actually put the bottle between his knees.  I find it strange that an Award of Excellence winner would have skipped the wine service training.  When I inquired about the cheese on the cheese plate, he searched in his book for the answer, and the only answer we received was goat, sheep, and cow.  Fortunately, we did not have any other questions regarding the menu, and Zambra has ample support staff or good team ethic because while our server was gone for long stretches our food and water seemed to arrive in a timely fashion.

A gift certificate from my husband’s most wonderful employer brought us to Zambra along with my desire to drink absinthe again (especially after the MountainX write up and video), but I had forgotten about the $15 price tag.  I guess I’ll have to create a special occasion in which to visit Zambra again and drink my absinthe.

Blue Mountain Pizza

After much pushing from my mom and youngest brother, we finally stopped into Blue Mountain Pizza last week on our way back from lovely Hot Springs.  I always wake up early when camping, but I woke earlier than usual thanks to a morning shower so we arrived in Weaverville just after 11 am.  We were the only table in the place until fifteen or so before noon, but the kitchen wasn’t ready to be open.  My salad and the husband’s bruschetta took about thirty minutes to arrive, and by the time the two pizzas arrived we could order beer.  I was impressed with their draft beer selection, but I can only recall two of them at this point: Pisgah Pale and Bell’s Oberon.  Although I saw the server pour beer from the Bell’s handle, our beer decidedly did not taste like a wheat beer.  Either the lines were crossed with the Pale; they were dirty; or some other table got our Oberon (around noon a bunch of cyclists arrived along with a church group).  At this point it didn’t seem worth bothering our server with the beer as we were both ready to get home and unload all the camping stuff.

My Greek salad was good; I love that they use spinach rather than lettuce.  The bruschetta was fine, covered with loads of tomatoes on thick bread.  I created my own pie with sun dried tomatoes, mushrooms, spinach, and artichoke hearts; the toppings were generous and enjoyable, but the crust tasted like something you might expect from a box or the frozen food section.  It wasn’t thin enough to hide behind the flavor of the toppings, and it just did nothing for the pie.  My honey enjoyed The Boss (extra cheese, onions, pepperoni, and jalapeños), and believe me extra cheese means extra cheese.

We ate our leftovers for dinner as neither of us had the inclination to cook, but the next day we were both clutching our stomaches and damning Blue Mountain Pizza.  He has vowed never to return, so I don’t believe we will be returning for their family pasta night or any of the nightly live music.  If the crust hadn’t ruined our pies and we hadn’t gotten sick, I would say a return trip might be in order in the future, but for now we’ll stick to making it at home.