IDEAS IN FOOD

The Day After Discovery

Yesterday was great, ingredients and techniques meshed.  Dishes that were thoughts became reality.  Riding the wave of success I arrived early and started cooking.  Well, my plans for dishes fell apart like sand castles at the beach.  Theories failed, ideas were filed...and then things came back together.  I slowed down, looked at the organized chaos around me.  I looked at yesterdays leaps and looked to exploit them, refine, polish.  After sifting through my culinary wreckage, one dish emerged: Roast foie gras with warm yogurt pudding, jalapeno, mango-miso and mahleb. 

I let my pleasure of success create a fog.  Once it was lifted, I began to avoid the rocks and see the bright blue ocean.

Why It Works

    Has anyone ever noticed that the more you write, the harder it gets?  When we started this blog I was perfectly content to jot down ideas and opinions, with perhaps a brief scan before printing.  As our readership has grown though, so has my need to rewrite, revise and redo.  There’s a certain obligation to make sure that ideas are clearly written and expressed; that was definitely less prominent in the past.  The upside is that my writing is improving (I think),the downside is that I don’t post as often as I could because it takes more time now.  A double-edged sword if ever there was one.
    We’re tossing around ideas for a warm chocolate pudding using the methocel.  That’s tomorrow’s project.  I have a tendency to approach hydrocollooids, enzymes and additives with extreme caution.  New and unusual products that are meant to be ingested make me nervous, even though methocel isn’t really new at all. I’m a bit of a curmudgeon and it takes me a while to get used to innovations.  I liked the transglutaminase, or “meat glue” immediately because it’s applications made sense to me, but I’ve been ignoring the methocel and simplesse for a while. Although I’m the first to admit that foie gras without veins is a beautiful thing, when it comes to noodles, texture is an integral component. I’ll put my yogurt pasta made with flour and eggs up against Alex’s methocel yogurt noodles any day of the week.  Depending on whom we’re serving, it could be anyone’s game.  But, I’m getting into the spirit of things.  I’m starting to view these ingredients as natural tools, like cornstarch or egg yolks, something that can help me create new textures and differing levels of stability within our food.  So for me, it’s a cautious beginning, but a strong one nonetheless.
    I was recently asked if it was difficult to share a voice the way that we do here.  As we no longer sign our posts people have to guess who is doing the writing.  That is a deliberate choice for both of us.  The reason being that the blog chronicles what we do in the kitchen and our approach to food.  We try to keep it focused on those ideas and because of that, one voice is appropriate.  We have worked together for so long that nothing either of us does in the kitchen can truly be called a solo endeavor, even if we’re alone at the moment of execution.  We cook for each other in our minds all the time.  The shared voice can be a major source of frustration at times, but it is a true illustration of what we do in the restaurant and how we develop our ideas in food.  We stretch each other’s boundaries and force each other to look at things from new angles.  It’s the most important thing that we do for each other in the kitchen.  Our partnership is what makes it all come together.
    This week I’m the one stretching and opening to new ideas.  It’s been quite an experience and although I did not begin enthusiastically I am happy with what we achieved. We’ve pretty much crossed off everything on our current list.  The things that we accomplished with yogurt, mozzarella and foie gras were huge breakthroughs for us.  The hot puddings came up today and I'm sure that by Monday, we’ll be on to something else.  That’s the beauty of exploring food, we never know where we’ll end up next.

Shaping Foie Gras

Now that we are able to make hot foie gras without veins, we have gone about shaping the foie gras base for ideal cooking.  In our most recent attempts, we formed shapes similar to that of traditional sliced and seared foie gras.  The foie gras caramelizes nicely and the interior remains molten.  Future exploits may take us to making a foie gras hot dog and deep fried foie gras croutons without a breading. 

the Kitchen Mascot

Booboo's back.  As far as we can tell he and his sibling have been chased off by Mama Bear.  Apparently the Mama takes care of them for the first year or so and then chases them away so that she can have more babies.  His sibling is haunting the Barn down below, stealing feed when backs are turned.  Booboo has adopted the Guest House and we him in turn.  He doesn't seem to be frightened of us, even answered to his name this morning.  Of course one day he'll grow up and scare our guests, but for now he's our mascot and we adore him.  How could you not love that face?

Hot Foie Gras Torchon

In continuing our evolutionary discoveries today yielded hot foie gras torchon and foie gras dumplings.  The hot torchon has the texture of seared foie gras, seasoned throughout, without veins and impurities.  Similarly, the foie gras dumplings have the soft melting texture of seared foie gras, but the fat is retained inside.

Distractions are Good, just ask the Bear

A kitchen may become a consuming place; we have pots, pans, techniques to learn, discoveries to uncover, lessons to understand.  What goes on outside does not always factor into our lives.  And we live in Colorado, outdoor central.  Well, I got distraction today, and it made my afternoon.  Funny thing is, I did not know I needed a distraction until it happened.  Here it is.

More with Mozzarella

We continued to explore the uses of dairy today.  We were able to make a crust, a cooking vessel and gnocchi.  What I am learning is twofold.  First, do not assume something cannot be done.  Second, make sure you write down what the heck you are doing, so if you happen across something interesting you are able to repeat it.  Today we were fortunate, hopefully tomorrow will be equally fruitful.

Boat Drinks

The phrase boat drinks has kept my attention since I first saw it employed in the movie Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead.  Ironically, they talk of boat drinks, a sense of freedom, while being in Denver, Colorado, a land locked city.  I am similarly land locked, longing for the smell of salt air and in the breeze and the refreshing and intoxicating boat drinks.  Being in the southwest, where margaritas rule the roost, (I happily oblige to drink them) boat drinks are an after thought.  Yet, while growing up on the coast exposed to salt air and clam shacks, rum punches and dark and stormies defined summer.  These were boat drinks, refreshing and inebriating.  Sure, the hot summer days could wear you out, but two rum punches carried their own weight as well.  The combination of boat drinks and salt air are both olfactory and sensory remembrances of the sea, hard work, family, friends and freedom. 

A wave of memories floods over me as I sit in the summer's heat and drink that dark and stormy.  What is even better is that these are fond memories.

Kitchen Conversations

Other people continue to make us better.  To challenge yourself with questions and ideas is good, to be challenged by others enables growth and discovery.  Aki and I push each other questioning how and why in the kitchen.  We are able to develop further by asking questions and having conversations.  Some days these conversations turn into arguments, that is OK, for in the end we reach resolve if not a solution.  And we do not just  have conversations with ourselves, we also bring books into the fray.  How then do you converse with a cookbook?  Think about how many times you look at the recipe and say, that cannot be right, or how did that idea emerge?  It creates one way banter.  Actually the book presents its side of the story with the reader filling in the rest of the conversation.

Similarly, I get phone calls from my father while he is shopping for a dinner party.  Technology is great.  He walks through the store with some part of the menu in his head and we choose ingredients and decide dishes.  Later, I get several phone calls during the progression of assembly and he fills me in on how he changed everything, but thanks for the ideas.  He forces me to be calculated and spontaneous in conversation, and he is able to learn and then change the ideas of his youthful son.

Consequently, I enjoy picking up the phone and calling other chef's to ask questions and understand old and new concepts in the kitchen.  We are able to talk through ideas and uncover new ones.  Also, our blog is helping us converse with more individuals as they ask questions or give comments which push and inspire us to delve deeper into the abyss of food.

Sometimes you need to make some noise to be heard.  My point is that kitchen conversations are essential to our growth and inspirations.

Yogurt Noodles...and more with dairy

I have been fascinated by cooking with yogurt mostly because I was told you really cannot do that.  First, we caramelized yogurt.  That worked well and the flavor produced was rich, tangy and rounded.  Since then I have wanted to actually cook yogurt.  In our current exploits we have begun with yogurt noodles and sheets.  The texture is not quite right, but it is close.  We also have tried and happily put together yogurt spaetzle.  Similarly, these applications have applied well to buffalo mozzarella, and we look forward to trying with sheep's milk ricotta.  Further shapes like gnocchi are also bouncing about as are the applications with tofu.  I also plan to use the yogurt to encapsulate foie gras and fish for slow cooking, but that is another concept to be explored further.

I began with the need to cook yogurt, then took a side step, and with a few  directional words of wisdom  now I continue to ask why and why not?  Unfortunately, I have not gotten these noodles to the texture we want so there is much more work and fine tuning.  Today I have a small smile on my face.  I believe we are getting closer to being able to serve roasted foie gras on yogurt noodles.  The wake up call is Aki saying they are not right yet, try again. 

Back to the kitchen.

The Execution of an Idea: Flipping a Coin

I have been pondering the thought of execution; the means in which we carry out our culinary plans and ideas.  Within the same thought, it occurred to me that more often than not we execute our ideas--in this case sentence them to death, by not executing the idea.  The process to take an idea from thought to finished product may seem insurmountable.  The complexity and levels of difficulty of an idea then act as the executioners.  We can overcome our own obstacles if we begin by moving forward with the small tasks.  The completion of several components of an idea will begin to build up and what was once impossible is now completed and successful.  It is interesting that one word is able to describe both the life and death of an idea or creation.  Many times I must figure out what side of the coin I am looking at.

Use the Tools You Are Given

Imagine being a carpenter, a pretty good one, who only uses half of his tools.  Sure, a screwdriver works well for putting in screws, but it is quite inefficient at hammering nails.  That is the point, one which I had recently overlooked until yesterday.  I did not need to use a screwdriver to hammer in nails, I had a hammer for that.

Why Use the Color Yellow?

In the process of exploring food, from the grounds treasures to the scientific application of products, it is difficult to pin point the drive and direction we are taking.  I do not come close to understanding many ingredients and the application of them.  Rather, I continue to put my hands in as many pots as possible and adapt to what I experience. 

I have taken a road which has probably been traveled by many, just not me.  Some days the path is clear, while on others it is over grown and full of underbrush slowing the way.  I have recently wondered if perhaps I am looking for obstacles?  I run into them like I specifically search them out.  Yet, at times I realize that what appears to be an obstacle from afar is just part of the path I am currently traveling.  I do not plan to run into trees, yet when looking at other natural beauties, sometimes a tree jumps in the way.

That leads me to the question, why use the color yellow?  Ask a young child why they choose a specific color from a box of crayons.  Some days a long indepth answer ensue,s while on most days the answer is because I wanted to use yellow.  The same simple approach to the box of crayons may be applied to artists and chefs.  Unfortunately, at a later stage in life we have many more influences on us and are more apt to discuss the merits and uses of yellow and how its interplay ties into the complete coloring.  And the funny thing is, the young child is giving a more sincere, stripped down interpretation of a vision.  Sure the child may not produce a painting for the MOMA, but he could.

To look at ingredients of all sorts with fresh eyes is incredibly difficult and equally daunting.  Yet, if on occasion we can just pick the color yellow we might discover something fresh.

False Yuba

I have been busy putting my new scale through its paces, now actually able to measure accurately small amounts of products.  In my explorations, I stumbled across a means to make false yuba.  Yuba being the skin which forms on the top of heated soy milk.  In our case, I began heating water with the introduction of methocel.  It began to form a skin on the bottom of the pan, strongly resembling yuba.  I could even scrape it up and remove it.  Great, but what good is water yuba?  Not much, but flavored yuba, now that is interesting.

I began today with truffle juice.  I am having some consistency problems, but I am pushing through.  Rather, I just make more than I need.  Here is one of the first productions using the false yuba.  More to come.

Maple Syrup Cornmeal Shortbread

    On my prep list today were mignardises, those little bites that come with the check to help sweeten the blow.  Usually we do some sort of miniature cookies or chocolates, just one for each person.  I personally love these tiny treats but have been daunted by them at many fine dining restaurants.  The problem is that by the time they arrive I am sated and thus face the options of missing out or making myself sick.  Frankly, most people look at you oddly if you ask to take them home and unfortunately these beautiful little indulgences often don't live up to the hype.  There's nothing worse than giving yourself a stomachache for something that tastes like sawdust. 
    One of the first things that I did this morning was pull out some butter to soften to room temperature.  I do this almost every day because it always comes in handy sooner or later.  Today was no exception as the butter on the counter drew my mind to shortbread.  Pancakes earlier in the week left maple syrup on my mind, which of course led to Vermont, New England, johnneycakes, and then cornmeal.  Truthfully, my mind almost always wanders in that particular direction, but today I was inclined to follow it.  Shortbread seemed like a good mignardises for tonight's menu.
    Normally I would use maple sugar but we were all out, so I decided to play with the syrup and see what happened.  It was early enough to change gears if it didn't work out.  I started whipping my butter in the mixer and drizzled in some cold syrup.  It took some time to come together, at least partially becuase I used cold syrup, and although it finally started to get light and creamy there was still some definite separation of butter and syrup.  The final bits did not want to come together.  Frowning slightly I glanced around the room and noticed the bin of sugar.  Perfect, the additional graininess could be just what was needed to homogenize things.  I added a few tablespoons and things came together as planned.
    I figured that I would need about 2 1/2 cups of flour for the amount of butter I was using.  Normally I would use 2 1/4 cups but with the extra maple syrup I decided to go with a bit more.  I substituted 1/2 a cup of cornmeal for flour and threw in a 1/2 teaspoon of salt for flavor.  I mixed the dry ingredients together and added it all to the fluffy, sweet butter.  Once the dough formed, I wrapped it, chilled it and let it rest for half an hour.  An old kitchen trick is to flatten out the dough before chilling to make things easier when the time comes to roll it out.  I rolled the dough out to about a 1/4 inch and cut out my cookies to the size of a quarter.  Baked them at a 300°F convection for about 6 minutes until they were golden brown.  Once they were cool they were delicate with a grainy, crispy crunch from the cornmeal and the slightly nutty, aromatic sweetness of the maple.  It was a complex mouthful for such a small bite, and the perfect ending to one of our meals.

Maple Cornmeal Shortbread
8 ounces sweet butter (we use Strauss Organic)
1/2 cup grade B maple syrup
2 tablespoons sugar
2 cups flour
1/2 cup cornmeal
1/2 teaspoon salt

Whip butter with syrup and sugar until light and fluffy.  Combine fours and salt and add to butter mixture.  Stir until just blended.  Flatten out dough, wrap in plastic and chill for at least 30 minutes.  Roll our dough and cut into desired shapes.  Bake at 300°F convection or 325°F oven until golden brown (approximately 6 minutes for 1/4 inch thickness, adjust as necessary for larger cookies).

Sometimes It Is Just a Strawberry

We received real strawberries late yesterday afternoon.  What is a real strawberry?  That is the question.  Picture the berry, hulking, red almost explosive with flavor.  Then the first bite, nothing.  No juice, no flavor, perhaps just water.  Try another.  Nothing.  Try again.  Insipid.  How can it be?  The strawberries looked amazing with a floral aroma and heft to the basket. 

It is all about the show, the fluff, the pomp and circumstance the ideal of what a strawberry is.  In many ways I fear strawberries.  I love them in pie and shortcake, as jam and confiture.  Yet, inevitably I am working with one hand tied behind my back.  The strawberries just do not deliver.

Something changed yesterday.  We have a local farm who has fought a strawberry battle similar to what I have previously described.  I called to see how everything was going and they said, "late, but we have amazing strawberries."  That was the last thing I wanted to hear.  I was strawberry gun shy, but I wanted to believe in the local farm and its produce.  I ordered five pounds of the berries. 

The strawberries arrived late yesterday afternoon.  The summer storm clouds were gathering and thunder was rumbling almost to signify another berry mistake on my part.  I looked at the berries, they were small, deep red and dense.  These were not the California show pieces of my past.  So I ate one.  It was good.  I ate another, it was really good.  I looked up at the farmers daughter who had just delivered the fruit and she just smiled as if to say "I told you they were good."

They are realyl good all the way through.  That is important to me.  Today we cook with real strawberries.

A Day at the Beach

What is it about summertime that tugs at people's emotions?  It's hot and muggy outside.   I'm listening to a Jackopierce CD and thinking about summers at the ocean.  Growing up in NYC, the beach was an integral part of summertime.  In elementary school I'd start watching the thermometer in late April hoping that it would be warm enough to go to the beach that weekend.  It usually didn't happen until the second half of May or even June if it was a particularly cold spring.  I loved going to the beach as a child.  We would get up early to beat the crowds and guarantee a spot near the water.  We would stop for coffee and doughnuts on the way to the Long Island Expressway.  It was a long drive 30-40 minutes or so in the mornings and longer in the afternoons when traffic crawled in either direction.  I loved it.  I relished sipping my coffee or hot chocolate and watching the scenery change, flattening out and becoming less populated, and finally the sight and smell of the ocean.  We had to cross a drawbridge to get to the beach and it was like the gateway to another world.  The window would be rolled all the way down, the radio would be blaring and I would breathe in the salty air with my hair whipping around my face.

When we arrived at the parking lot there were usually only a few other cars awaiting us.  Jones Beach has enormous parking lots and by the time we would leave in the afternoons they would be packed, lines of cars shimmering in the heat, stretching all the way back to the entrance.  But we would park at the entrance to the pathway to the boardwalk.  It was a long walk to the water and when we arrived at the boardwalk, we would pick up egg sandwiches and carry them down to the beach.  Fried eggs with ham and cheese, salt and pepper, on a buttered kaiser roll.  They steamed in their packages as we walked down to the beach, checking the water line so we wouldn't be subject to ambush by the waves later in the day.  Once we were settled, sheets and blankets down, chairs up, we would eat breakfast.  I loved egg sandwiches all year round, normally purchased from the delis near my house and my school, the ones at the beach were differentiated by the thicker, firmer, saltier ham and the coarse texture of the salt and pepper used at the concession stand.  I savored my warm, salty, creamy, chewy sandwich and then raced off into the waves.

I would stay in the water till my lips were blue and my shoulders shaking from the cold.  I drove family members insane until I was old enough to swim by myself and no longer needed a guardian at my side or watching from the shore as I dove and played beneath the rough blue green waves.  I loved to lie on the ocean floor as a particularly strong wave crashed over me.  I could feel it's vibrations down there, but it couldn't hurt me or send me tumbling to shore.  It was this tiny oasis of peace beneath the thundering water and it only lasted for seconds before I would have to surface for air.

When the elders finally forced me back onto the shore, it was usually lunchtime.  We almost always brought coolers of food from home for lunch, sandwiches or cold fried chicken, sodas, chips, whatever.  I was always hungry and it always tasted wonderful sitting there on the hot sand.  We'd wander up to the boardwalk for dessert, devouring items never eaten at home.  Lindy's butter crunch cookies, rocket pops, ice cream sandwiches, astro pops and the cherry soft serve italian ices sold from their own concession.  We'd walk along the boardwalk from one beach to the next, trying to avoid splinters and look cool at the same time.  We'd test the clam chowder and french fries from one food court to the next, checking to make sure that we weren't missing out on anything not found on our beach.  Then it was back to the water and the sand and the waves.

Around two, the young men in sunglasses with coolers on their shoulders would appear along the shore, hawking frozen candy bars and fudgesicles.  Sometimes other people would come by, selling jewelry made from mother or pearl and shells culled from the beach.  We'd walk along the sand, searching for sea glass until we were hot enough to plunge back into the water.  It was always an internal struggle for me, whether or not to leave the water in time let my bathing suit dry out for the long ride home.   It was a major loss either way and early in the summer I would choose to swim, while later in the season a dry suit won the battle.

We'd stop for ice cream cones or italian ices on the way off the boardwalk to sustain us on the weary walk back to the car.  The intense cherry flavors and  soft grainy texture as the ice melted against my tongue softened the blow of leaving as we passed through the tunnel leading to the parking lot.  I often surveyed the field of cars wondering how others had the energy to trudge all the way back to the ones at the far end.  Sandy and content, I'd spread a towel on my seat for the ride home.  I'd watch the scenery until we crossed the drawbridge and then drift off to sleep for the rest of the trip home.  Those days at the beach were a hallmark of my early years, one of the first where freedom and food were intertwined.  Sometimes now on hot summer afternoons when I'm tired and lethargic and cooking seems so hard to do, memories of those days help to spur me on and to remember why I love the kitchen.  It's not just about the food, it's about creating experiences and fond memories.  As I well know, they can sustain a person for a lifetime.

Techniques and Execution of Random Thoughts

Thoughts and ideas seem to appear at random times.  What I am learning is that in constantly taxing our minds to explore ideas we are able to  turn random ideas into avenues which we can travel.  By continuing to write down our thoughts we are able to give them substance and an actual space which can be referred to.  It is important to me that I follow through on random thoughts and source and discover techniques which will then allow us to execute our random thoughts.

A current example of executing a random thought and finding an appropriate technique is our bacon cracker.  Why would you want to make a bacon cracker?  I did not have a reason, I just wanted to.  So, we looked for a method to turn my thought into reality.  And that is where I am going.  It began with the random thought to write about random thoughts, now these thoughts are helping to define and punctuate our cuisine.

Engage Your Mind

We have had the pleasure of getting both positive and negative feedback on our website.  In either case, it has allowed us to think in new directions and further our own culinary development.  Interaction with others enables us to formulate and put into practice our ideas rather than just talking about them.

The only way in which we are truly able to develop is by engaging our minds.  The key for me is to look everywhere and try as much as possible in order to get a mental work out.  One difficulty I have is getting stuck in a particular pattern or mindset.  If I am able to notice a rut before it is too deep than I am able to look elsewhere and find new challenges.

In fact, as I write, I have come to realize that in publishing a Digital Notebook we are then responsible for our thoughts and their derivations.  In other words, our writing and picture taking is the result of needing to engage our minds.  Each day something influences us, and we are able to reflect and learn from it while also sharing the experience with others whom will eventually engage their minds.

Therefore, we must thank those of you who read and visit our site.  These interactions engage our thoughts and push us to look deeper into our culinary escapades and fine tune our endeavors.

What Distinguishes Us: A Letter to Meryl

I woke up this morning and recieved an email with a key question; what distinguishes us?  I thought long and hard about it and the words then came.  Being that I wrote the response letter, I felt I could include it here, for it got me to think about who we are and what we do.

The combination of two different sensibilities is the cornerstone in our culinary procedures and development.  We look at food and ingredients from not always opposing angles but certainly different ones.  Because we come to the table with a variety of views our culinary discussions may then result in a greater whole. 

Similarly, in being in a remote part of the country in an intimate setting we are free from rules and preconceptions.  We just have conversations with purveyors, each other, acquaintances and then cook.  Later on we combine ingredients.  But the freedom of no rules to a creative is key.  We can travel any path, make a mistake and realize we have discovered something new.  That resulted in our fat crackers.

We are currently fielding questions about our  chicken skin and bacon crackers.  To our knowledge, no one is making them yet.  We figured out how to do it.  On another note, check out the Shrimp photo album, it has slow cooked shrimp, margarita jelly and cocktail sauce crackers.  It is like sitting at the bar on a hot summers day enjoying the best of life, all in one dish..simple, to the point.

With regards to our food blog, it is a digital notebook.  It has ideas, thoughts, concepts, pictures, interactions and inspirations.  And it is open for all to see.  How often can you get into the mind of two opposing chefs, who are married, that work together and produce a final product.  Think about it, without tension there would be no suspension bridges. 

What we make in the kitchen is a result of our interplay, experiences and whatever comes to mind.  The smoked sea trout roe came from our smoked salt.  After that we came up with vanilla, habanero-mezcal, sake, and maple-smoked roes.  But, we could not have come up with them if we were not dealing with a great producer like Steve Stallard at blis caviar who was willing to take a leap of faith with our ideas.

Our vinegars came about because we had left over wine.  Why put it down the drain?  It was good to drink so why not turn it to vinegar.  One vinegar worked so then we opened the doors.  I wanted and had never seen maple vinegar, so we made it.  Port vinegar was just something I knew we could make rather than pay top dollar, and Tequila vinegar is ground breaking.  The stuff is amazing, even in its infant state.

We do not make soy sauce in our kitchen, rather we manipulate it.  The first was smoked soy sauce, the next infused with vanilla, then habanero, then cocoa nibs--which became pureed to form a miso like product--and most recently coffee.

The vinegar martini was experienced based.  We had just had ice wine martinis in aspen, and when the drinking vinegar showed up we tasted it and figured it would be an interesting extrapolation of ideas.  The addition of the walnut oil in one case balances the vinegar and also adds a rich undertone to the drink.

At the end of the day the list that distinguishes us can be paired down to the simple fact that our ideas and food is a distillation of two minds working both in harmony and complete tension.  Volatile and loving relationships produce greatness, when the two are intertwined who knows what is possible.

Mac and Cheese

It's 90+ degrees outside and we're at home making macaroni and cheese.  We have some guests coming to dinner tonight, one of whom is six and ostensibly the reason for the macaroni and cheese.  Truthfully though he would prefer the stuff from the the blue box, there's no guarantee that he'll even eat the homemade stuff.  But, it's been a long couple of weeks and this is the first evening we've had off in a while leading into the first day off in over two weeks and we're beat, mentally and physically.  So, although there will be slow cooked ribs glazed under the broiler, chips and salsa, a very fresh bean and vegetable salad, leftover banana cream pie and Guinness chocolate cake...we're focused on the mac and cheese.  We don't have everything we'd use in an ideal situation but we do have aged Vermont cheddar, hot sauce, organic milk and elbows.  Although I'll definitely devour a rib or two, macaroni and cheese and a cold beer are definitely dancing on my horizon.

Temperature Control

We have spent the weekend fine tuning--more so narrowing error gap--dishes with regards to temperature.  We worked with slow cooked duck breast--which were glued together for a thicker loin like appearance--in several mediums from steamer to sous vide.  We resolved to cook the duck loins for an hour and twenty minutes at 51.7 degrees C.  The steamed duck resulted in an intensely flavored meat which was utilized in a shaved salad preparation. 

We also worked with red shrimp which were cooked at 70 degrees C for six minutes.  The resulting texture and sweet flavor was exactly what we were looking for...we got lucky.

Our veal neck fared well, cooking for 48 hours at 70 degrees C.  The meat is melting but with a rich texture.

Beyond slow cooking we explored broiling and glazing black cod.  The decadent fatty richness was held in place by the sweet-salty-spicy-aromatic lacquer. (maple syrup, matouks hot sauce, soy sauce, fresh ginger) The high heat of the broiler seemed to be the best method to caramelize the lacquer and similarly allow the fish to cook well.

The resulting dishes are pictured in the Black Cod, Shrimp  and Duck photo albums.  The veal dishes are coming soon.

Fat Crackers

It began with the chicken skin cracker, went to bacon and today was duck skin.  I had a bit of trouble with the duck skin.  It made a nice smooth batter, but then I pulsed it once to much and the batter separated.  So, I added some cornstarch, lecithin and another egg white and the batter came back into emulsion.  Well almost.  It was speckled with some fat pockets, but I gave it a go.  It dried nicely and crisped into its cracker goodness.  More liked duck skin lace crackers, but still good.  Then it dawned on me, can I make other other fat crackers?  For example what about hollandaise sauce or ravigote.  They are fat based as well and in theory could then be turned into crackers using my current formula.  I am about to begin; we shall see where it goes...first attempt is sauce choron.

Old Fashioned Tools--New Technology

While reading through A. B. Marshall's book of ices I saw and was inspired by a picture of an old fashioned hand crank ice cream maker.  In reading further, and looking at the device, I began to wonder about using this simple mechanism in conjunction with a super ice or liquid nitrogen.  I could then make traditional hand cranked ice cream nearly instantly; yet with the denser richer texture of yesteryear.

I do not have either the ice cream maker or the liquid nitrogen currently in our kitchen, I am currently discussing a speculative attempt at dealing with a product and the inevitable outcome.  Yet, I wish to broaden my thoughts.  I am now beginning to look for tools and concepts used by our predecessors in order to apply today's technology to them or vice versa in an attempt to heighten my own awareness of the past and being able to apply it to today and tomorrow.

Traffic Jam

I was not planning on writing about clogged thoughts and how a multitude of ideas may congest in the mind, but that was what faced me this morning.  In many cases, the flavors may align while  the finished dish resembles the hodge podge from where it originated.  A fine example of how this looks is a new cheese course we are working on.  Its current state of disruption is visible in the Cheese photo album. 

I am not sure where the dish is going to go.  Sometimes I just need to put the thoughts into motion and let them reside elsewhere.  In being able to get some of the ideas moving, even if it is not the direction I originally intended, I am able to free and dislodge other thoughts in order to focus and polish dishes.

Coconut Vinegar

We had the good fortune of being contacted about coconut vinegar this morning.  No, we have not used coconut vinegar, though it has been bounced about in thought and conversation.  Yet this morning we received an email with questions about the product.  Such inquiries usually rekindle thoughts.  Aki did some quick digital research and located the vinegar.  We now have some arriving next week.   

The coconut vinegar sounds fascinating--a product of the coconut tree sap-- and I am now eagerly anticipating its arrival.  We shall see what direction it takes us.

Chestnut Honey Vinaigrette

I've been reading a lot about chestnut honey recently, it seems to be everywhere I look.  I took that as a sign and got some in as it's been a while since I've played with it.  The honey that we got was from Piedmont and had a lovely complexity, a syrupy texture and a slightly tannic finish like tea.  It was wonderful and I pondered the best use for it.  I wanted to use it in a savory dish in a way that would best highlight it's unique characteristics.  An idea for a vinaigrette came to mind.  I used some warm water to dilute the the honey and melt it into the liquid.  I added lemon juice for my acid, salt and some grapeseed oil.  I deliberately chose the lemon to accent the tea-like characteristics of the honey and the grapeseed oil for it's neutrality to let the other flavors shine.  They worked together beautifully and since Alex was cleaning some chanterelles as I made the vinaigrette, they seemed like a natural match.  We seared the mushrooms to a crispy golden brown and then tossed them with the vinaigrette and left them to macerate.  The result is the best of both worlds where the sum is greater than it's parts, sweet, tangy, earthy, chewy and simply amazing.  We will be serving them tonight with seared skate wing, braised baby turnips and bacon dust.  Wish you all could be here to taste it.

Bread and Tea

Our daily bread tends to reflect whatever mood I'm in as I approach the mixer.  Yesterday I had a few things on my mind and the result was a three seeded dough that changed with every bite.  This morning I was feeling somewhat more contemplative and less scattered so I reached for some tea.  Harney & Sons Paris to be exact.  It has a haunting fruity and floral flavor that lingers on the palate like a fine wine.  I brewed a few cups and used it as the liquid for my bread dough.  The dough itself contained just the basics: flour,water (tea), yeast and salt.  It rose beautifully light and crisp with a delicate crumb.  The flavor of the tea just permeated the dough and, just like the beverage, left a haunting reminder of itself on my palate.  A warm, crusty roll with some cold Animal Farm butter and
Malden sea salt was the perfect boost to get me through the rest of my day.

*Later that evening I discovered that the Paris tea, in bread form, pairs beautifully with Bingham Hill Blue cheese.  That was dinner in the kitchen.

Lovage-Fromage Blanc Sorbet

Aki put together an incredible sorbet this morning.  She combined a lovage tissane made with simple syrup with fromage blanc, creme fraiche and pure lovage puree.  The cleansing nature of the lovage with the tang from the fromage blanc were rounded out by the creme fraiche.  I see a strawberry-rhubarb tart in the future; though that is only my first thought...more to think about this evening.

Beyond the Duck Press

Everyday I am intrigued with how the mind links ideas.  Even better is how occasionally the links make sense and an interesting dish may be assembled.  Today that happened.  After talking about the duck press my mind wandered to the duck itself.  We worked through four new duck dishes which are now in the Duck photo album. 

Coffee Soy

We began with cocoa-miso.  The flavor is rich, bitter, fermented and flavorful.  I wanted to emulate that discovery with coffee.  I began by soaking coffee beans in soy sauce.  After several days the roasted coffee flavor had penetrated the soy sauce.  My original plan was to grind the coffee and soy together to create our coffee-miso paste.  The clean coffee flavor in the soy sauce has led me to change direction.  We will let it infuse for another day and then strain it.  Coffee-soy is born, now what?

Vinegar Martini

We were turned onto an interesting product, Edelsaurer T Noble Sour vinegar, a drinking vinegar.  It arrived with some nut oils (pine and walnut) we had been waiting for.  Upon tasting the vinegar I immediately thought of a martini.  My thought was most likely influenced by the ice wine martini we saw being served over the weekend.  Ideas obviously come from everywhere.  The drink, a splash of the drinking vinegar, gin and several drops of walnut oil.

Other thoughts for the drinking vinegar are with foie gras, drizzled over ice cream, served from an atomizer and spritzed on tomatoes.

Aromatherapy

We received some new teas this week.  They smell amazing and fortunately they’re for the kitchen to use.  We recently picked up a stainless steel steamer perfect for use with teas and other aromatic liquids. Although bamboo steamers can be wonderful, they impart a strong flavor on their own which can interfere with any new flavors you may try to introduce.  With a stainless steel steamer you can control all of your elements.  The power of scent and steam can be amazing.  It imparts flavor without dilution so that a piece of fish steamed over an aromatic jasmine pearl tea becomes infused with the tea’s flavor without losing any of it’s own.  You can also adjust the amount and type of tea in the water to the intensity that you wish to convey in your finished product.  The steaming liquid can also be utilized for a sauce or a broth to go alongside whatever you have steamed.  The temperature and speed at which you steam something also affects the finished product.  You can change the textures in perfect cadence with the rate of your steaming.  Something steamed quickly over a high heat will have a tougher texture than something steamed slowly over a gentle heat.  Either method can be a good thing.  For example a dumpling takes very well to a high heat, the wrapper will absorb any aromatics used to enhance the filling and your steaming liquid can be used to add extra layers of flavor to the dipping sauce.  On the other hand, pink shrimp steamed slowly at a low temperature will become barely firm and custard-like while absorbing the essence of the vapors.  The shrimp can be painted with a light reduction of the steaming liquid or served with delicate baby greens lightly dressed with a vinaigrette using the liquid as it’s base.  Best of all, when the cooking is done and the lid is off, you can take a few seconds to breathe it all in and create a bit of peace in a hectic day.

Edit Yourself

Many will laugh but I must reference L.A. Story.  In particularly, the comment by Sara Jessica Parker with regards to getting dressed and jewelry accompaniments.  To paraphrase, look at yourself in the mirror, look away for a moment, and then look back quickly.  The first thing that catches your eye is what needs to be removed.

The same examination should be applied to cooking and constructing dishes.  In fact, I apply this approach or technique to our compositions.  The key is the willingness to take something away even it you really love it.  Edit yourself.

Wahoo!!!!

We were sent a sample of Wahoo to cook with and my only regret is that I have not eaten or cooked with it before.  We first ate some raw, then semi cooked and finally grilled.  I enjoyed all the preparations though my favorite is raw.  The fish has a buttery richness and melts in the mouth, and with a spicy olive oil drizzled on top it becomes sinful.  Eat wahoo, its unbelievable.

Pursue Your Passion

It is difficult to put into words what drives us.  Many times it is a smell, a concept, a quick thought or several key words.  These sparks ignite and continue to fuel our internal fire.  The reason such small seemingly random events are fuel is because we are pursuing our passion.  Fuel for our fire comes from almost anywhere as long as we pursue our passion.

Knowing and Not Knowing

There are too many points in the world of food and wine to fathom knowing it all.  I can grasp that fact.  The key is realizing that we can eventually find the answer or piece of knowledge we desire as long as we are willing to ask questions.  It is very difficult to say you do not have the answer or the knowledge.  It is tough to ask others for help in solving a problem.  Overcoming these obstacles uncovers a new trail head down a path which will allow for the discovery of incredible sights, sensations and experiences.

What you do not know is even more engaging than what is stored and cataloged as known.

Think Fresh

I woke up tired and in a bit of a funk.  What am I doing, and where is it going?  Sure, we are developing our cuisine that is great and yet I still felt off. 

And something turned me around.  We are able to Think Fresh.  By being small and remote and beyond the constraints of our many peers who may be constricted by big city dining, we are able to cook our way.  We have a creative environment where we are able to ask why and then challenge that question.  We are fluid.  If we make a mistake, we learn and more often than not we choose to repeat the mistake for it leads us in a new direction. 

I write about our freedom, but anyone can Think Fresh.  As it dawned on me this morning you just have to make the choice to do it.

Culinary Fingerprint

Food is looked at and treated differently by every individual.  In looking at food closely we are able to see and in some cases feel the approach in the handling and manipulation of ingredients as they are assembled into dishes.  When we are cooking well, it is very gratifying to see our own culinary fingerprints on dishes and throughout the process of constructing them.  It is similarly intriguing to note the differences between how two chefs handle products.  In working as a team, Aki and I can see our individuality in how we manage ingredients while the final dish is a combination of our efforts and thus represents our Gastronomic Signature.

Gastronomic Signature

We have been asked on more than one occasion what is your food philosophy.  For a period of time I tried to define our philosophy and have written in depth about it.  The funny thing is people asking the question tune out after about three sentences.  Sure it is great to talk about the philosophies which guide our approach to food, but in today's ADD world no one is able to hang onto a philosophy.

In that case, we have a Gastronomic Signature.  Like a letter or anything personal, formal and otherwise our signature concludes the document.  Therefore, why not have a Gastronomic Signature, a tell tale sign that a dish was composed by Aki or myself.  In writing, our signature is

• Appear Simple
• Look Natural
• Be Extraordinary

These brief points dictate our cuisine and thus act as our signature to our food.  It is much simpler to sign your name rather than trying to explain the why you have a name and what it means.

Harnessing Energy

In order to continue our evolutionary process in the kitchen we must continue to move.  Ideally, we are moving forward, continuing to climb.  An issue which arises is how to sustain our motion.  The answer is we need to harness our energy.  Oh, and it has to be absolutely positive energy.  Being in a remote location is difficult...we must use that isolation as a means to fine tune ourselves, our food, our philosophy and to define why we cook.  Deep inside exists an honest reason for putting up with kitchen conditions, the hours, the stress.  The key is discovering what that reason is and make it the driving force.
By unearthing our own mission statement we will then be able to harness the necessary energy to achieve and fulfill it.

The Flaw

The Vanilla salt was received well at the Aspen Food and Wine Classic.  In fact, many people asked us where they could buy the salt in the future.  The salt was distributed in tins with our logo, the description and our Keyah Grande web address.  We made one mistake, we used tins.  Unfortunately to those who do not use the salt in the immediate future they will notice a decomposition of the lid of the tin.  We apologize for the inconvenience.  Please feel free to transfer the salt to a plastic bag which will not react with the salt.  You will then be able to keep the vanilla salt indefinitely. 

The tin made sense for aesthetics and distribution, we just did not consider long term storage.  In the future, we hope to see the larger picture.

Metronome in the Kitchen

Timing is essential in the kitchen.  Without timing, from digital to internal clocks, food and dishes do not come together.  Time drives the kitchen--from the amount of time needed to brine pork belly to the time needed to slow cook shrimp so they set like custard its background presence is essential to the conception of food. 

Many cooks insist that they do not need to use timers, they just know.  Bull, and I speak from experience.  Timing is essential, and exact timing just gets us closer to preparing better products.  When I first started cooking I burnt five trays of bacon in one shot.  Not good particularly as a young cook who needed the bacon to make 40 Cobb salads.  I learned to use the timer for I did not need to go through the embarrassment of explaining sheet pans of over charred pork products.

Over time I have learned what I can do in a period of time and that understanding acts as an internal metronome.  It keeps me in check, or at least it did.  I had learned how long a braise took and quickly bacon cooked.  I felt confident in my ability to keep time.

Yet, in recent months I have realized that a timer is still indispensable in the kitchen.  With our evolving rehearsed cooking, particularly slow cooking in an aquatic environment, precise timing is again becoming essential.  Sure, I listen to my internal metronome, that keeps the rhythm, but a timer and a thermometer help define the parameters in which we are able to consistently produce perfectly cooked products.  The metronome is our backbone and instinct which we use to narrow the guess work and capture the ideal window for cooking ingredients.

Unfortunately, I have not quite come around in the scale department and the creation of recipes.  I believe scales are necessary though, in our current environment where improvisation and inspiration spark many of our combinations I am willing to  then go back and  retrace  our steps to catalog precisely.  Our approach allows for the free flow of ideas, not hindered by the steps necessary for exact replication.  The long and short of it is I have come around with timers and am looking into scales.

Culture of Learning and Teaching

It is a humbling experience to realize how little I actually know.  In the ever growing cosmos of the kitchen more ingredients are unearthed, techniques rediscovered and questions asked.  What I have come to appreciate is learning and teaching go hand in hand.  Everyday I learn something new either in the kitchen or which  in some way relates to dining.  It is important for me to share as much as possible of these lessons.  By sharing my experiences and culinary lessons others are willing to share theirs and in the end we all benefit.  Today we are part of a culture which is balanced by learning and teaching.  Without either balance is not achieved; when they are both equally desired and achieved our success is able to out way failure.

Duck Press Dining

I have had a fascination with the duck press for a number of years.  It symbolizes a style of dining rarely witnessed today.  The press is used to extract the rich juices within a roast duck in order to make a table-side sauce, rich with the flavors of game and a perfume of the wild.  Today we have more show in the dining room, from cooking in boxes to table side liquid nitrogen presentations.  These seem to be the evolutionary steps of the duck press.

But the duck press is more than just show.  It acts and represents as a means for extraction, essence, and an emotion.  That is what we are striving to achieve.  We need to extract flavors.  Our goals revolve around the essence of food, dining and the experience.  These goals in turn are shaped by guests emotions.  In working like the duck press we are able to combine old and new ideas to extract flavors, techniques, concepts and ideals previously locked within the world of food and wine.

Terrifying Symbol of Excellence

In order to truly put our best foot forward we must continue to challenge ourselves.  Everyday we need to be better, more focused and driven.  Without these personal challenges we would not be able to continue to climb.  What drives us is the terrifying symbol of excellence.  To be extraordinary we must be excellent.  The challenge is that excellent today is expected tomorrow.  We must improve upon ourselves in all situations in order to stand up to the associations of what is excellent.  And that fact, the daily challenge, is terrifying in that we could trip and stumble, and we have, and knowing that is frightening.  Yet, we can get up and try again.  We must get up and climb higher, hopefully getting closer to excellent.

Back to Work

Well, we hit the ground running this morning.  Lots of issues, very few of which are food/beverage related.  Pink frette sheets (that used to be white), scheduling issues (good staff is hard to find), computer issues (can't do payroll if the time clock refuses to give up people's hours), mysterious piles of laundry that a housekeeper just decided to hide instead of washing... and it's not even 9am yet.  Alex just brought me to my first cup of coffee and I'm taking a minute to make us some breakfast which we'll snatch bites of as we run back and forth.  Just can't do Monday on an empty stomach...so here it is: mini casseroles of ham, eggs and gruyere eaten with toast or a bagel quickly toasted on the grill.  Easy enough with a good pantry and you can throw it under the broiler and pull it out the next time you run by.  Quick, easy and yummy.  Sustenance for a busy day.

Looking Backward to Move Forward

It is as simple as it sounds.  New experiences and ideas are constantly being weighed and measured.  Our constant processing of thoughts, to our researching  ingredients and techniques we are constantly making comparisons.  Today is looked at through the eyes of yesterday, because that is what we know.  In fact, because of what we know we may also challenge existing thoughts.  Sure, everything has already been done; a given in the world filled with knowledge hounds and creative individuals.  Yet, we still are challenged by what has not been done, combined, examined or expressed.  We need to relive experiences and tastes of yesterday to make them more explosive than when we were first exposed to them. 

In order to move forward with food we must look at ours and others yesterday's to make today better and get closer to a more explosive tomorrow.

Gut Level Dining

At the end of the day, what does your gut tell you?  It is probably our harshest critic.  If in the process of cooking something is off, your gut will let you know.  Sure I could be just talking taste, flavor etc, a direct reference to the gut; though I also want to mention the gut as litmus paper for what we do in the kitchen.  In looking and examining our cooking we must make sure it feels right in our gut.  If not, what are we doing?  Cooking and the experiences around dining must first make us feel good; if not it will certainly not be the best for diners to experience.  It comes down to our gut in more ways than one.

Sense of Place

A restaurant must create a sense of place.  From beginning to end dining is an experience--from a personal getaway to an evening out-- which when all the notes are hit guests may reach a personal place.  Sure, they may just be dining, but if the parts work well together a greater whole may be achieved. 

The question is how to create a sense of place?  Everyone must believe the story.  Not a made up or conceived story, rather just the story behind the restaurant, what it is, how it integrates the many facets of dining, allowing for an alignment of facts which when combined show and tell a great story and pull diners into a new place.  The restaurant is the environment, the food and service are the experiences and the story is the catalyst which sparks the events and allows for the creation of such a place.

Without a catalyst, nothing happens.  We must then focus on who we are, what we provide, believe in it and allow ourselves to create the catalyst which will exemplify a sense of place.