Tableau Vivante

I know there are a few of you out there.

WAY back in the day, when this blog was on Livejournal (seems so long ago now…time flies) an up and coming caterer named Rachel Hailey approached me and asked for permission to use some of my photos for her new business website.  Well, she’s in business now, doing all manner of impressive things, and my only gripe is that I can’t hire her myself.  So you hire her.  She’ll make you tasty seasonal foods.  The whole ‘personal chef’ thing?  I love to cook, but there are times…oh man.

Little side note: other places my images have been used?  A K-12 teacher’s guide on educating about agriculture in California, a farmer’s marketing materials, and a greeting card.  This is a fun life.  Funny how it took a camera to help me see it.

Congratulations, Rachel!  Salud!

My schedule goes through these hills and valleys of time and no-time.  I had told a friend recently that I take tons of photos every week - usually of food - but that I haven’t really had the time to write up a decent post.  I’m under the impression that a blog, or any website for that matter, should be content driven and be able to add a little ‘aha’ or ‘huh’ to one’s brainmeats.

“So? Don’t the pictures speak for themselves?”
“Well, yeah, but I’d like to provide some content.  I’d like to think it’s not all about the pretty pretty pictures.”
“Photos are content, which is better than no content, right?”
“…yes…”
“And you say you’re not a writer. Just post.”

So, the point was made. I’m posting the shots from my Sunday trip to the Hollywood Market, working on the premise that some > none. On with the eye candy.  Mangia.

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Did I mention I like eggs? There is only one caveat to that - they should be cooked right. By this I mean no overcooked, dark rimmed yolks. They should have cohesion without being chalky. I give them just under five minutes in a boil and then they get a quick ice bath. Voila, tender albumen surrounding a custardy yolk.

I try hard not to fall in love with Trader Joe’s products. If they can’t keep a supplier, they toss it. Their frozen caneles come to mind - I haven’t seen them since early August at either of my local branches.  Such teases! Though imagine my happiness when I finally - FINALLY - spied Trader Joe’s frozen puff pastry sheets.  Hoping they keep the latest make of their vegetable shumai - que yummy and do not require the accompanying ponzu sauce to be so. Also? A perfect fit in the bento. Two by two…

Worth a three week wait? Oh yes. Oh hell yes.

We taste-tested them at two weeks and were a bit overwhelmed - the salt/sour was pucker inducing. Third week’s the charm apparently. The sour mellowed its sharp tang to a dull roar. The garlic and spice warm them ever so slightly.  I’m listening to the sweet music of jars sealing right now. I have four quart jars and three pint jars. Allegedly they will mellow a bit more over the next week. JJ wanted spears, so spears he got. Made packing the jars easier.

My hands smell like pickle juice now. But these are the sacrifices we must make for good food. Darn.

Dinner #10 brought us back to the Grand Floridian, our home base for this gastronomically epic adventure.  It is the very essence of Victorian luxury situated right on the beach of Seven Seas Lagoon.

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The first time I had udon noodles, I was in my apartment kitchen in Baltimore. I had been making a habit of going to the Korean grocer down the street from my apartment rather than hop in the car and drive uptown to the supermarket - the best green veggies were there…I so miss having that within walking distance of my front door.

But I digress. I’m the girl who buys Double Noodle Chicken Soup and then fills the bowl with noodles and maybe a few tablespoons of broth. I love noodles - the texture, the flavors of different kinds, the way they fill me up without feeling like a brick in my gut. So when I saw neatly stacked packages of thick and meaty udon noodles for the first time, there was no question about bringing them home. They became my default dinner most weeks - easy to prepare and adulterate and highly satisfying.

Then the cafe up the street started serving udon stir-fried in black bean sauce with veggies. Between that and my trips to the grocer, it quickly became the Year of Udon.

The udon in my lunch today echoes those now out-of-reach flavors, reminding me of a time when life was lived richly on the cheap. Kind of sums up bentoing for me, too. Click through for the details.

I really do like eggs. Sometimes too much. But for lunch, they make a quick and easy protein. The dill helps keep them from filling up the box with its sulphury aroma, but if you’re really picky about it, wrap them in plastic. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t - depends on how much of a hurry I’m in. Click through for the content details. I’m going to go eat this thing now.

The locals were abuzz recently when they learned that Thomas Keller was coming to L.A. (Beverly Hills specifically) to open a Bouchon on Canon Drive.  He’s in the local news again this morning, but as a writer in this week’s LA Times Food section.  Dipping his toes into the LA media pool?  Not a bad way to make nice with his upcoming market - though frankly, the world is that man’s market.  What foodie doesn’t have dinner at The French Laundry on their ‘must do’ food list?  The end of the article mentions it’s based off a speech he gave previously to the California Restaurant Association, but even his seconds are pretty first rate.

I started in on (again) making both my and JJ’s lunches a few weeks ago. This was the bento that never was. Sadly, it was forgotten on the counter as we made our mad morning rush out the door so he could catch his train. Ah well.

On the left, a halved ‘potato boat’ on top and bottom, Sangre de Toro peach slices, and a gently cooked egg with dill. On the right, red bell pepper slices, Autumn Royal grapes, and leftover corn on the cob.

A potato boat is just a baked russet, cut in half, and restuffed with a mix of potato innards, celery, carrots, peppers, dill, salt, and a touch of mayo to help bind it, then rebaked. It’s a childhood memory food that I make when I’m feeling nostalgic.

If you do a Google search of Sangre de Toro (bull’s blood en ingles) peaches, you’ll pull up a whole mess of praise for a Spanish wine, but absolutely bupkiss about the peach varietal. This is a peach that will require you to go straight to the source for info. Is it this mystery that drives people to ask for it by name? A sort of locovore password that gets you a validating smile and nod from the growers?

The Tenerelli Orchards in Littlerock, CA are the peach wranglers of note when it comes to the Sangre de Toro. So I took a moment to chat with John Tenerelli this morning to see what the hubbub was.

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