You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.
The ninth episode of the season features these restaurants: Pork Store Café (San Francisco), Pizzaiolo (Oakland) and Zarzuela (San Francisco).
Leslie Sbrocco: Wine Tips -- What to do with Leftover Wine
When a world-famous and beloved chef gathers together sixty years of the recipes he "love[s] the most" and stuffs them in a hearty cookbook that measures two inches thick, it's time to make room on the bookshelf. This fall Jacques Pépin publishes his newest cookbook, Essential Pépin, and gives his hungry fans over 700 of his favorite recipes culled from his six decades as an apprentice cook, professional chef, and cooking school teacher.
Always the perfectionist in and out of the kitchen, Jacques didn't go easy on himself when putting this book together. In his introduction, Jacques admits that he could have simply sent off all 700+ recipes to be published with no additional changes, however, he instead decided to reconsider each one and "adjust, correct, and retest [them] for a modern kitchen to make them usable, friendly, and current for today's cook, while retaining the spirit and flavor of the originals." Essential Pépin is essentially Jacques, and the recipes reflect his life in food from the fanciest French dishes to the homiest American comfort foods to his personalized approach to "fast food" cooking.
I don't know what Jacques' original recipe was for Onion Soup Lyonnaise-Style, but this one did me just fine on a pre-Autumnal evening. As I swim my way through a practically tangible haze of slowly simmering onions and browning mountain cheese, I will say that I wish Jacques had been a little more specific about what port is "sweet port." To me, all port -- ruby, tawny, vintage -- is fairly sweet. It's not like sherry where one is clearly sweet and one is clearly dry. I went with ruby for this recipe, but might try tawny another time just to experience a taste comparison. Also, I didn't use canned stock. What with all the scary news about what is going on with canned foods these days, I buy cartons of stock not cans. Of course, that's an even better excuse to make your own stock, which is Jacques' primary suggestion.
Onion Soup Lyonnaise-Style
Serves 6 to 8
15-20 slices baguette, 1/4 inch thick
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 medium onions, thinly sliced (about 4 cups)
8 cups homemade chicken stock or low-salt canned chicken broth
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups grated Gruyère or Emmenthaler cheese
2 large egg yolks
1/2 cup sweet port
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Arrange the bread slices on a cookie sheet and bake for 8 to 10 minutes, until browned. Remove from the oven and set aside. (Leave the oven on.) Melt the butter in a large saucepan. Add the onions and sauté for 15 minutes, or until dark brown.
Add the stock, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil and cook for 20 minutes. Push the soup through a food mill.
Arrange one third of the toasted bread in the bottom of an ovenproof soup tureen or large casserole. Sprinkle with some of the cheese, then add the remaining bread and more cheese, saving enough to sprinkle over the top of the soup. Fill the tureen with the hot soup, sprinkle the reserved cheese on top, and place on a cookie sheet. Bake for approximately 35 minutes, or until a golden crust forms on top.
At serving time, bring the soup to the table. Combine the yolks with the port in a deep soup plate and whip with a fork. With a ladle, make a hole in the top of the gratinée, pour in the wine mixture, and fold into the soup with the ladle. Stir everything together and serve.
I also tried one of Jacques' pita pizzas -- the one with red onion, tomatoes, Herbes de Provence, chives, and Gruyère cheese -- and it's definitely something I'm going to try out on my toddler. In fact, my husband was so taken with the pizza that I had to make another one right after we scarfed down the first one. I was out of tomatoes, so my second rendition was done up with slices of red onion, Herbes de Provence, chives, Gruyère, and a handful olive oil-dressed watercress I tossed on the pizza after it came out of the oven.
If I recall from my work on More Fast Food My Way, Jacques' pita pizzas are part of his "fast food" oeuvre, and clearly the onion soup smacks of his classical French background, so I decided to round out my Essential Pépin sojourn with his roast chicken recipe, a classic American entry.
My experience with this recipe was somewhat rocky. While I loved Jacques' tip about not covering the finished chicken with foil (because the steaming that ensues makes the chicken taste reheated), I did struggle mightily to keep the stubborn bird on its side during part of the roasting process. I ended up lacerating one of the drumsticks during the balancing act, but since the drumsticks go to my toddler, it wasn't a huge loss.
As my husband and I stood over the warm chicken, tearing off crispy skin and strips of juicy breast meat with our fingers, he mumbled through a mouthful, "Best roast chicken you've ever made." I then whisked some Grey Poupon into the pan of unstrained juices, warmed it slightly, and poured it off into a bowl. We continued feasting, this time dipping our fingerfuls of chicken into the sauce. In this book, there's Jacques the Chef.
I leafed through the rest of the book, scanning other recipes, and suddenly realized I wasn't even reading the recipes because I completely enthralled by the illustrations. In this cookbook, there's no glossy photography showing rivulets of garnet juices running down a slice of steak, no crooked fingers of steam rising from hot-from-the-oven rolls, there's just a gratin pan here, a curly head of Boston lettuce there, an occasional plump chicken pecking in the dirt -- all lovingly rendered in watercolor by the chef himself. In this book, there's Jacques the Artist.
Early in the book is a 3-page "General Information About Eggs" section, which is seeded with smidges of new-to-me information. Here Jacques shares a great tip about freezing individual egg whites in ice cub trays and how raw unbroken egg yolks should be covered with cold water for optimal refrigerator storage. However, the egg tip I find most fascinating is the idea that it's not it's necessary to bring eggs to room temperature before whipping up their whites. The master chef's opposing opinion is that the texture of egg whites is "tighter, smoother, and better if the egg whites are cold, even though the volume after beating is slightly less." Tucked among the 700 recipes are other snippets of advice, like how to make your own proof box for baking and ways to improvise your own fish smoker out of an old pot or roaster and a screen.
The next recipe I'm most looking forward to trying is the Grilled Squid on Watercress. Grilled squid is a dish I always order (sometimes in multiples) if I see it on a restaurant menu, but I've never had sufficient courage to try at home. With Jacques by my side, guiding me through each step, I think I'll finally be able to attempt it. In this book, there's Jacques the Teacher.
Packaged with the book is a 3-hour DVD of Jacques' techniques, which really deserves its own review. The very first technique Jacques demonstrates is the proper way of tying your apron to insulate yourself against burns, and attaching your towel to your apron for attractiveness and ease of retrieval. Genius. There are other worthy techniques, of course, and some are difficult -- making butter roses and gilding them with paprika for color -- and some are easy, like peeling broccoli stems for cooking.
Also not to be missed is KQED's 26-episode TV show, Essential Pépin, which starts airing on October 15th. KQED's specially designed website will feature 2-4 printable recipes from each episode along with delectable photographs of the finished dishes. The website also enables you to watch full episodes online a week before they air on TV.
In under a month, newcomer Local Cafe is already charming Piedmont Avenue neighbors and luring Oaklanders for a morning coffee or a quick bite to eat. Owners Megan Burke and David Crombie joined up with Colin Etezadi, formerly of Boot and Shoe Service, Pizzaiolo and Camino, to craft a menu that is seasonal, well-crafted, and relies on many local ingredients and products.
For breakfast, they serve drip coffee and espresso beverages from Graffeo along with fresh-squeezed juices, housemade granola, breakfast sandwiches, toast and INNA Jam, and pastries from Starter Bakery. I have yet to get over there in the morning, but I've heard rumors that the espresso drinks alone are worth the jaunt. I can attest that this is certainly the case with the salads and sandwiches.
Interior of Local Cafe
When you walk in for lunch, you're met with warm, modern decor (think Adesso with a cooler color palate), oversized lighting fixtures, chalkboard menus and a lovely community table. Walking up to the register, you'll see a cold case full of fun bottled beverages including lemonades, root beers, small bottles of Dr. Pepper and juices and teas. We were seated and given paper menus although I noticed a few couples ordering right at the counter, so it looks like it could go either way depending on how busy it is at the time.
Cheese Platter at Local Cafe
We began with a few housemade iced teas and the Cheese Platter which featured fresh pears and a few different kinds of soft cheeses. I have to say that I do like a firm salty cheese with my pears as well; this would be a nice addition. Other than that, the pears and cheeses are accompanied by thinly sliced, toasted bread and it makes for a nice nibble while you're waiting for your lunch to arrive.
Chef's Salad
My handsome dining partner and I split the Chef's Salad and the Egg Salad Sandwich served on an Acme roll. I always associate Chef's Salads with bad, corporate cafeterias but I hadn't tried one in so long and it was the most substantial salad on the menu so we went for it. The lettuce was nice and crisp and the salad itself was lightly dressed and seasoned. This is a good one to split with someone in conjunction with another dish--I think on its own it might be a little on the not-all-that-special side.
Egg Salad Sandwich
The Egg Salad Sandwich, on the other hand, veers to the other end of the spectrum: it is a very special sandwich. So often the problem with egg salad sandwiches is that the eggs can be over-boiled and turn into a crumbly mess only held together by gobs of mayonnaise. Not at Local Cafe. Here the eggs are soft boiled and mayonnaise is used only sparingly. There are capers and watercress and great crusty bread. While I did share this sandwich, I probably wouldn't again--it's one you're going to want to enjoy all on your own.
After lunch, there are a few cookies and simple desserts along with Tara's Ice cream. When we were finishing up lunch, we asked about the root beer they sold and how sweet it was compared to more commercial root beers. Co-owner David Crombie was working the register and checking in with his customers but he took the time to actually pour us a sample and chat about our favorite brands. It's apparent from the beginning when we walked in and were greeted quickly by the inviting interior and the friendly waitstaff that this was a promising spot on Piedmont Avenue. It became even more apparent as we were leaving and chatting with David about soda, sunshine, and Oakland in general. Isn't this how all good lunches should end?
Local Cafe
4395 Piedmont Avenue, Oakland CA
(510) 922-8249
Hours: Tuesday-Sunday, 7am-3pm
You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.
You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.
Outerlands is the kind of restaurant that you dream about stumbling upon. Ironically, I've lived in the Bay Area for years now and I just recently met a friend at Outerlands for the first time. And then went back. And then went back again. It's the kind of place you don't want to tell too many people about but at the same time you can't stop gushing anytime someone asks you where they should eat in they city. And so it's come to be, quickly: Outerlands is my favorite restaurant in San Francisco. Hands down.
I've noticed a funny thing happens when I try to explain why I love Outerlands to people. I become vague. There are hand gestures and lots of "seriously, just trust me's." You walk in the front door and feel immediately at home in the space and at home in the neighborhood that is the Outer Sunset. The restaurant itself has beautiful salvaged fence-wood walls, a long bar with tangled driftwood pieces hanging here and there, and a small smattering of tables. All of this adds up to an undeniably warm and rustic ambiance. It reminds me, in that way, of Big Sur Bakery. There aren't many restaurants around that make you feel so comfortable and so at home so quickly.
Outerlands on a Cool August Evening
If you're not familiar with the Outer Sunset neighborhood, it's s a foggy little enclave pretty far removed from downtown San Francisco--not necessarily in miles but in mood and certainly in weather patterns. It's a hop away from Ocean Beach and hosts a few other great spots to check out, including Trouble Coffee,Polly Ann Ice Cream and Devil's Teeth Baking Company. There are surf shops, music shops, bigger apartments, and wider streets. And there's bread. Oh, is there ever bread.
You can't talk about the food at Outerlands until you mention the bread. David Muller and Lana Porcello set out to open a warm, inviting cafe with simple, beautiful food and Muller's bread is very much at the centerpiece of that. He learned the technique for his Levain loaf from Tartine's Chad Robertson, and I think it actually differs a great deal (in a good way). Muller's loaves are dark on the outside with a surprisingly tender crumb on the inside. They somehow straddle the line between the best sourdough you've ever tasted and a really nice loaf of whole-wheat bread. The folks at Outerlands serve it in fat wedges alongside soups and salads. It's also, obviously, the foundation of many a sandwich. Or order it straight up with a bit of homemade butter or Cowgirl Creamery Mount Tam cheese. I'm not sure it gets much better than that.
Broccoli Soup and a Glance at the Menu
While I can't speak to the brunch at Outerlands, I can say that I've heard rumors that the Dutch pancake and the open-faced egg sandwich are worth traveling distances for. Dinner is similarly worth traveling for. What to order? Every time I've eaten at Outerlands I always order soup. It's something they do very, very well and fits perfectly into any meal whether you're at a cozy indoor table or under the heat lamps outside. The first time I ordered a potato leek soup that our waiter mentioned he'd made that night with a bunch of different odds and ends they had in the kitchen (a little of this, a little of that). He was very proud of it; I couldn't not order it. The soup was exquisite. So when I returned recently, I ordered the broccoli soup which was equally fantastic. Not at all too creamy or heavy. We sopped up the remaining few spoonfuls with a hunk of bread and butter. That, in and of itself, could be a lovely little meal.
Beyond the soup and bread though, there are a few different ways to approach dining at Outerlands. I generally share a few small plates with my dining partner although you could certainly go the more traditional entree route as well. Their salads are all simple and beautiful. They generally have one featuring bitter greens which I love and appreciate, but which-- I've learned--not everyone feels the same way about. On a recent trip, I had a wonderful mustard greens salad with figs and walnuts. We also ordered the local sardines with quinoa and pole bean salad served with tomato jam. The menu changes often, but you can always count on a soup, a few salads, special side plates, and a few more substantial entrees and seasonal desserts.
Outerlands opens for dinner at 6 p.m.; the list begins filling up promptly at that time. If you don't feel like waiting (although I find waiting and lingering around the block to be quite lovely), plan on getting there close to 6. They have a nice, small beer and wine list in addition to their new-ish cocktail program that begins at 6 p.m. and runs until 10:45. The three nightly drinks all feature a different spirit. For example, the night I was there recently, they were serving tequila, rum, and gin-based cocktails--all with interesting herb and botanical complements that make actually choosing just one rather difficult. After dinner, be sure to order a pot of Sightglass coffee to share with your tablemate.
After-Dinner Coffee from Sightglass
Each time I've been to Outerlands I've run into an old friend. The first time I was there it happened to be an old high school friend I hadn't seen for years. Most recently, it was a writing friend that lives up in Portland. Both times we hugged each other and stared in shock, asking one another what the heck we were doing. And both times, the answer was a silent look around the room, a look back at one another, and a nod in recognition that there really couldn't be a better place to spend an evening in San Francisco.
Outerlands Address:Map
4001 Judah Street
San Francisco, CA 94122 Phone: (415) 661-6140 Hours: Tues.-Sat. Lunch: 11am-3pm; Dinner: 6pm-10pm
Sunday Brunch: 10am-2:30pm
Closed Sunday evenings and all day Monday
The Nom Nom Truck. All Photos courtesy of Nom Nom Truck
It’s amazing what a reality show can do for your food truck.
Second place finishers on the Food Network’s "The Great Food Truck Race" and Los Angeles food truck staple, Nom Nom, have spread their love to the Bay Area.
Co-owners Jennifer Green and Misa Chien met during their time at UCLA. It was also during that time that they realized they could fill a niche in the growing food truck scene.
Nom Nom Truck owners: Jennifer Green and Misa Chien.
“It started in 2009 when we had a lot of Kogi BBQ trucks around the UCLA campus and their popularity grew out of nowhere,” says Jennifer. “I made a lot of Vietnamese food for my friends on a regular basis and I realized the lack of Vietnamese restaurants in the West LA area. Then it clicked.”
Green and Chien chose the classic Vietnamese baguette sandwich, banh mi, as their truck’s specialty not only because there was a lack of places that served it in their area, but because it’s easy to eat.
“It’s portable, it’s fast and has a fresh taste that you can’t get from a burrito or hamburger,” states Jennifer. “The great thing is that we can also put a little bit of our gourmet twist on it too. One of the most traditional banh mi ingredients is grilled pork and I grill it with honey, which is a little different than the traditional. We also have Lemongrass Chicken and Vietnamese tacos, which are like a banh mi in your hand.”
“We also work with Le Boulanger to have our bread baked especially for us from a recipe I worked really hard on.”
Deli Banh Mi sandwich.
Indeed, the perfectly crusty on the outside, pillowy on the inside French bread roll is key to a good banh mi, and it was the highlight of the sandwich when I got a chance to sample their Honey Grilled Pork version. The pickled carrots and daikon that topped the sandwich were flavored well and super fresh, but I wish I’d gotten more of them to create more of a textural and taste contrast to the sweet pork. And I missed the lack of fish sauce flavor that brings it all together.
All in all, it seemed like something similar enough to what I could get in a Vietnamese Mom and Pop shop. So what’s the big deal?
First, the size of this sandwich is double the size of one you’d get at a typical brick and mortar. Coming in at 12 inches long, it’s a torpedo of a dish. But more importantly, Nom Nom is obviously trying to appealing to those who have never had a banh mi before.
“It’s exciting to see how many people who have never had one before try it and see their reaction, says Misa. “It’s like an introduction to Vietnamese food for those who have never had it. We’re appealing to the American palate.”
Lemongrass Chicken Tacos
Their popularity has grown steadily, peaking when they started showing up on the Food Network reality show.
“We went into it wanting an adventure and it was a great way to expose our truck to a larger audience. People totally embraced us and it was great to see that feedback,” says Misa. “To see a small town embrace a food dish they’d never tasted like banh mi was a great experience.”
“We were bummed we came in second, but deep down we had to tell each other it was just a reality show. And the great thing was that we won the chance to travel and it was amazing,” says Jennifer.
Nom Nom recently acquired their third food truck and their next move was up north…at least for Misa.
“We decided on San Francisco because it’s a real foodie town and it’s been a dream of mine, personally to live up here,” she says. “We have two trucks in LA and one in San Francisco, now. I’m not complaining that I had to move up here! And the response has been great. People up here come to the truck, whereas in LA, you have to go to the people. They’re a little lazier down there.”
For now, Green and Chien don’t have any other plans to expand. “We have three babies right now and we’re focused on them,” says Jennifer.
For two women fresh out of college, running several food trucks in two major cities can be a challenge, but their goals are clear.
Misa says, “At the end of the day, we want to make people happy through our food. And as employers we want to hire staff that will work together to create an amazing company and work environment. Plus I get to build a great business with my best friend!”
You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.
What's on your locavore's barbecue this Labor Day weekend? A slab of beef tri-tip, our favorite regional cut, sliced and nestled up to a stack of red torpedo onions and dry-farmed Early Girl tomatoes sounds mighty tasty. If you prefer fish, try a side of grilled sockeye or king salmon topped with this easy corn relish. And to start, what captures the taste of our unique coastal landscape than a a platter of oysters plucked from the salt-sweet estuaries of Tomales Bay or Point Reyes?
You can shuck and serve them raw, with nothing more than a squirt of lemon and a shake of hot sauce, or get a little more fancy with a saucer of mignonette sauce. Mignonette may sound lah-di-dah, but it's nothing more than a tart dunk of minced shallot, black pepper, and champagne vinegar. At its popular restaurant and oyster bar in the Ferry Building, the Hog Island Oyster Company has California-ized this French classic into a "Hog Wash" of shallot, minced jalapeno, cilantro, and both seasoned and plain rice vinegar. Or you can raise a toast to a particularly local tradition and barbecue them right on the grill. No shucking required; just place oysters, flat side up, on a hot grill until the shells pop open. Off the heat, remove the top shell, loosen the oyster within with a quick swipe of an oyster knife, and top with your favorite barbecue sauce. You can return the oysters to the grill for a minute or two to heat the sauce through. Whatever you do, the oysters will be sexy and succulent, with a clean ocean taste like the first fresh slap of a wave against your face.
Once your appetite is whetted, you might want to know more about these intriguing little bivalves, so rich in history and lore. Oyster Culture by Gwendolyn Meyer and Doreen Schmid, is a great place to start. Illustrated with Meyer's beautiful, evocative black-and-white and color photographs as well as historical documents and pictures, the book, published by Petaluma's Cameron Press, delves into the history and ecology of the local oyster industry. How did the book happen? Via email, Meyer told us,
"The book evolved from a photo essay on how oysters are farmed on one farm into the bigger story of oyster farming out here in West Marin. I started shooting grainy black and white film images back in 2001 out on the water and the gritty grainy look captured the hard working farmers on the bay on its foggy overcast cold windy days. The Tomales Bay is a special and unique place, one of the few clean estuariane systems left in California. The water-based farms fascinated me, and being out on the bay was captivating. Getting to know some of the people involved with oysters here and the history of the east shore-- I realized that there was a story that hadn't been told.
Photos from Oyster Culture copyright Gwendolyn Meyer
People in California have been eating oysters for centuries. Archaeological digs at Coast Miwok campsites have revealed piles of oyster, mussel, and clam shells. The native oyster of California's indigenous peoples and first settlers was the small, coppery-tasting Olympia oyster, Ostreo lurida. It has since been replaced, first by Atlantic varieties shipped in from the East Coast, then, since the 1930s, by Japanese Pacific varieties like the Miyagi and the Kumamoto. At first, commercial oyster farming was concentrated in San Francisco Bay, but as silt and pollution threatened the beds, the oyster companies looked north, to the more pristine estuaries of Tomales Bay and the Point Reyes peninsula. Oysters thrive in flat tidal estuaries where the river meets the sea, as part of a very particular coastal ecology. Once railways were established, linking the once-remote hamlets of West Marin to San Francisco and the surrounding towns, local aquaculture took off. As Oyster Culture notes, "For a brief moment in the 1950s, Tomales Bay was the largest oyster producer in California. Today, it is the state's smallest production area, but home of its oldest oyster farm and last oyster-canning factory, at Drakes Bay Estero."
Using an attractive and inviting layout, Oyster Culture explores both the natural and cultural histories of oysters, oyster farming, and oyster-eating around the Bay Area. At an early age, left to its own devices, an oyster attaches itself permanently to whatever solid surface it can find. Raising oysters is more like farming, or raising livestock, than fishing, since the oysters stay where they're planted. Marin's oyster companies, including Hog Island, Tomales Bay Oyster Company, Point Reyes Oyster Company, Cove Mussel Company, the Marin Oyster Company, and Drakes Bay Oyster Company (formerly Johnson's Oyster Farm), have evolved their own systems for raising and growing their oysters, each producing slightly different results. Along with ranching and farming, the oyster industry makes up a significant part of Marin's agricultural history and current agricultural and aquaculture-based economy. As Meyer told us,
"What was striking to me was how involved and familiar with every aspect of oysters everyone who works with them is, from the oyster bar shuckers to the farmers. There is a wealth of information about the oyster, and people who work with oysters know so much. Everyone in the industry has a particular philosophy about how they grow. Their understanding of the bay and the water and the environment they work in is impressive. I think a memorable story comes from Jorge out at Drakes Bay. Jorge has worked on the water for 30-plus years at Drakes Bay, for the Lunny family and the Johnsons before them. One early morning, he and Kevin Lunny got disoriented in the fog out on the estero. The fog blanketed out any recognizable features and they got didn’t know which way was home. They mistook the light on shore for that of a boat and headed away from it towards the ocean, which could have been disastrous. Fortunately, they managed to figure it out and didn’t head out to sea.
The story reminded me how even experienced [oyster] farmers with years of working on the same body of water are at the mercy of changing conditions. It may look calm and protected out there on the bay and estero, but it’s a landscape very much affected by many influences, both natural and man-made. I think the environment keeps farmers constantly on their toes.
Eat a local oyster, and you're supporting local jobs, something that makes putting oysters on the menu particularly appropriate for Labor Day. It's cold, wet work, tending to the rough-shelled babies out in the Bay, scrubbing and shucking, but it's an industry with deep roots, one that both provides jobs and presents a model for how for-profit agricultural businesses can work within protected parklands. "Because Tomales Bay is part of the Gulf of the Farallones National Marine Sanctuary, the farm [Hog Island], like all those within this sanctuary, works with over twenty agencies that manage land use and water quality in and around the Bay," the authors write. Says Hog Island co-owner Terry Sawyer, "None of this would be here without the Point Reyes National Seashore--we all owe a huge debt to its creation."
Now that she's an oyster expert, what oyster does Meyer prefer?
"Lately I’m particularly fond of the Tomales Bay Oyster Company's golden nuggets. They are beautiful oysters that are tumbled, not grown on the bottom, and because of this their shells are really pretty. The oyster itself is a deep-cupped, plump, rich tasting and perfect-looking oyster -- really a delicacy. I believe TBOC is the only farm doing tumbled bags on the bays. I prefer them freshly shucked, on the half shell with a squeeze of lemon. I like their briny taste of the ocean and want the full flavor of that, especially as we come into the winter months when they are at their prime.
Recipe: Oysters with Chorizo Sauce
Summary:This recipe, adapted from the book Oyster Culture by Gwendolyn Marks and Doreen Schmid, comes from the kitchen of The Marshall Store, a popular seafood restaurant on the eastern side of Tomales Bay.
From the Marshall Store
Oysters with Chorizo Sauce. Photo copyright Gwendolyn Meyer
Prep time: 10 minutes, plus 1 hour's chilling time Cook time: 5 minutes Total time: 15 minutes, plus 1 hour's chilling time Yield: 24 oysters, serves 6
1. Soften butter at room temperature. Saute chorizo until thoroughly cooked, then crumble. Place in refrigerator to cool.
2. Place butter in a small bowl and break up with a wooden spoon. Add cooled chorizo and mix thoroughly. Add parsley. Place the mixture in the middle of a sheet of waxed paper. Roll into a 2-inch wide log, twist ends shut, and chill in the refrigerator until firm.
3. Prepare a gas or charcoal grill. While grill is heating, shuck oysters and leave in shells. When grill is hot, top each opened oyster with a thin slice of butter cut from roll. Cover and cook just until the butter starts to bubble.
Note: If you don't have an outdoor grill, these oysters can also be cooked under the broiler. To broil, cover an ovenproof plate or platter with a layer of slightly moistened rock salt about 1 inch deep. Set oysters, in shells, on the rock salt, making sure they are level. Top each oyster with a thin slice of chorizo butter. Broil just until the butter starts to bubble.
Chef John Fink at Heritage Fire. Photo: Laiko Bahrs
Juicy Loins, Tender Rumps
Bacon, the Gateway Meat
Needs Salt
Smells Good in Here
Ms. Delicious
Pigs are Magic
And let's not forget my very favorite bit of meat geekery, Bacon Gives Me a Lardon.
What is it about studly-butcher culture that loves a pun? (The fondness for bacon needs no explanation.) Whatever it is about long days spent with a knife and cleaver, or all-nighters tending the smoky maw of the barbecue pit, the t-shirt slogans that result are always worth wearing. Especially if you've stained it, proudly, with the ducky goodness dripping off something as mind-bendingly awesome as a handmade duck hot dog piled high with duck confit, chicharrones, diced duck egg and duck foie gras.
Sausages from Smoakville. Photo: Laiko Bahrs
But even if, like me, you arrived just a little too late to snatch up one of those already legendary duck dogs, there was plenty of meat for the munching on offer at last Saturday's Cochon Heritage Fire in St. Helena. Cochon 555, the parent organization, is known for its celebrity chef spectacles celebrating the pig across the country ("cochon" is French for "pig"). But once a year, in Napa, the all-pig menu is diversified to celebrate heritage breeds of beef, lamb, goat, and poultry, many of which are staked whole and slow-cooked outdoors over a wood fire.
Perhaps the setting--the shady emerald lawn, complete with fountain, fairy lights and gazebo, of the very posh Charles Krug winery--inspired a little more decorum in this year's organizers and chefs. Participants couldn't really wander from roasting goat to spitted feet-dangling chickens as they could at last year's slightly more rustic event (then called Primal Napa). Whole beasts were definitely being cooked, but their funkier bits weren’t so much in evidence. No pumpkins filled with pork liver, no skewers of heart, no smoky lamb jawbones (tongues included) for Neanderthal gnawing. The offerings were a little more restaurant-refined, the gluttony a little less greasy. The butchering demos, by Dave the Butcher (Marina Meats, the pork happy hour at Fatted Calf) and Joshua Applestone (Fleisher’s), were held upstairs at the tasting room, not with the meaty carcasses strung up on a rock-star stage in the middle of the feast.
Whole animals cooking at Heritage Fire. Photo: Laiko Bahrs
That said, the meats on offer were absolutely delicious. What did I love best, the pink, tender slices of lamb cupped in Boston lettuce leaves with fresh mint and pickled red onion, or the succulent Indian-spiced lamb masala patties? The crackling skin sliced off the enormous chanterelle-stuffed porchetta, as good as any I’ve had at farmers' markets in Italy? The moist chunks of fennel-rubbed rabbit? John Fink of the Whole Beast's treyf special, roasted tandoori-spiced goat with goat yogurt? The snappy, ruddy Italian sausages from Smoakville BBQ in Napa? The long, slow chew of Woodlands Pork'scountry Mountain Ham, made from forest-reared, terroir-expressing pigs rooting through the hollers of West Virginia? According to Woodlands' Irish-born president and ham obsessive Nicholas Heckett, this is no dainty appetizer ham. Said Heckett, "I like it after dinner, with whiskey and a fine cigar." The finish is so long, and the taste so concentrated and intense, he explains, that it would knock out any less robust entrée to follow. Like the famous French chef Joel Robuchon, who frequently included a plate of utterly unadorned jamon iberico as part of his tasting menus, Heckett staunchly believes that high-quality ham needs no adornments. (Then again, Robuchon, sad man, has probably never had a warm Southern-made buttermilk biscuit, split and stuffed with slivers of country ham and a dab of homemade peach chutney.)
Rabbit menu from Heritage Fire. Photo: Laiko Bahrs
We end up, as one does at these events, lying under the trees, drinking wine out of GoVino’s reusable plastic cups (picture a Riedel stemless wine glass, reimagined for picnicking), conjuring up the outrageousness of meats past. "Remember those bacon eclairs?" says one friend, dreamily. They were thumb-sized, she said, filled with something bacon-fatty, with a crunchy slice of bacon on top, where the chocolate glaze would otherwise go. Another friend toyed with recipe ideas for the twine-wrapped package of lamb liver that he’d begged off the crew doing the lamb butchering demonstration, using a whole lamb from local Stemple Creek. (The various cuts of meat from each demo were raffled off at the end of the evening.)
This being a chef event, the eating and drinking had to continue at an after-party held down the street at Farmstead. And naturally, there had to be a fire, in this case a roaring bonfire built in the sand pit out back by Heather Shouse, a red-headed, Southern-twanged food writer on hand from Chicago. Shouse, the author of Food Trucks: Dispatches and Recipes from the Best Kitchens on Wheels, is criss-crossing the country as a Cochon camp follower as she works on an upcoming Cochon cookbook. Before becoming a writer, "I worked in restaurants all my life," she said, and she has the tattoo sleeves to prove it. One chef brought out a plate of salmon he'd smoked the day before; another crew arrived bearing a deep hotel pan filled with bite-sized chunks of pork, juicy and sweet, carved off the last animal left over the coals. A bright full moon shone down. There was meat, beer, cigars, and a ring of sweaty, smoky men and women kicking back after doing what they do best: taking care of the people who love to eat.
