As a Korean-American foodie who resides in West Oakland, I’m lucky that there’s a slew of fine eateries not too far from our home all along Telegraph Avenue in Temescal.
Archive for October, 2008
This summer I made a vow to get over to the farmers’ market—any farmers’ market—once a week. For the most part I’ve managed to do it. And for the past 3 or 4 months I’ve purchased a bag of fresh ripe tomatoes each week. Ever since they hit the market, I’ve been obsessed. And now I’m in a downright panic, as they are on their way out.
On Friday October 10th the Asian Culinary Forum kicked off with a sold out tasting event, The Six Asian Flavors. What made this program such a fantastic success was the opportunity to see, handle, smell and taste examples of the defining flavors of Asian cuisine that spans many countries.
At sixty-eight, my Dad has professed himself confused as to why I want to work on a farm, since it was a job he did out of necessity and not pleasure. However, he listened patiently when I went on at great length about locavores, the connection between farm and table, and Jen Maiser, and a year later, he sent me the following childhood recollection. Given how natural it was for my grandparents to source, buy, and eat locally, I’m not surprised Dad has been somewhat unimpressed by all the chatter surrounding the newest eat local resurgence. What I want him to know is, in many ways, the current eat local movement honors our parents and grandparents who got it right the first time around.
Noshing on sticky buns the approximate size of your head is a Midwest breakfast tradition. I came to this realization early in life when, on a trip Up North to a friend’s cabin, we had some relief from the constant yodeling (on the radio, not the parents, though it was the their choice of music for three hours straight) when we stopped at Tobie’s in Hinckley, MN. Halfway between Minneapolis and Duluth, Tobie’s is a famous rest stop/family restaurant where people mostly load up on enormous rolls, sticky with caramel and studded with nuts, while reading all about the famous Hinckley fire on informative place mats.
When you hear the word “horchata,” what comes to mind? I’m sure the answers will vary. The most literal-minded of you will think “rice milk,” some of you may simply associate it with the concept of the “taqueria,” while others might draw a complete blank. I for one can’t get the image of the mouthy whores of the Mission district out of my head. Not that I associate them with actual drink, it’s just the phonics of the word that lead me there.
One of the best things about having an apple tree is being able to go in my own backyard to pick apples to make a cake. I have quite a weakness for apple cake, especially when the apples are crisp and sweet. So, in honor of my tree and the many apples it has bestowed upon us for apple slices, apple tarts, apple butter, and, yes, apple cakes, I’d like to share my recipe.
Every few years an amazing baking book comes along. You may already have a tried and true favorite, but if you are still on the hunt I have a suggestion for you, check out The Art and Soul of Baking from Sur La Table. Beginning bakers and seasoned experts alike will find something to love about the book. With glowing recommendations on the back cover from baking authorities and pastry chefs such as Peter Reinhart, David Lebovitz, Sherry Yard, Emily Luchetti, Dorie Greenspan and Flo Braker and an introduction from Alice Medrich you know it must be good, right?
I’ve lived near Fillmore and Sacramento in San Francisco for about six years. There are benefits to spending so much time in an area — I know exactly where to shop, where to drop off my dry cleaning, and when the neighborhood Victorian gets a new paint job. But there are also frustrations — shops and restaurants can bore me after a while. Don’t get me wrong — I love sitting at the bar at Florio when I’m feeling flush, and think that Ten-Ichi is a good neighborhood sushi place, but I was getting tired of the same old scene.
Sunday mornings are special at my house. Instead of rushing around and trying to make breakfast for my daughters while finding homework or soccer shoes, I get to lounge around, reading the paper while my husband cooks up a pot of steel-cut oats. I live for Sunday mornings, with my hot cup of coffee and steaming bowl of oatmeal.
Having just recently returned from the UK, I am currently obsessed with a dessert that is considered, by many of my British friends and family, “nursery food.” I am speaking of bread and butter pudding. At its best, bread and butter pudding is both crispy and creamy, sweet and salty, simple and comforting, with just the right amount of butter, enough custard to soak through the layers of bread, a few sprinkles of raisins, and a toasty golden brown top. (At its worst it’s a soggy, insipid, flavorless blob with too many raisins, but we don’t have to go there.)
Next weekend, the inaugural Asian Culinary Forum kicks off at the San Francisco Ferry Building and the theme is Asian Food Beyond Borders. There will be tours, classes, workshops and panel discussions. Learn about chutneys, kimchi and sambal, how to pair wine with Asian food, all about Asian diasporas, the delights of South India and so much more.