A few years ago I became a head chef flunky at the Culinary Stage of
the Los Angeles Times Book Festival. It was a way to keep up my prep
cook skills, meet some heroes (Suzanne Goin, Lidia Bastianich, Martin
Yan, Mary Sue Milliken & Susan Feniger, Govind Armstrong, Nancy
Silverton) and TV star chefs (Giada DeLaurentiis, Tyler Florence, Dave
Lieberman, Cat Cora). The stage’s consulting producer, Michael
Weisberg, took a leap of faith and allowed me to bring along Patricia
Zarate and a few of her girls from the Homegirl Cafe to assist the
celebrity chefs. This will be their third year at the Culinary Stage.
A Celebration of Chefs and Others
A Celebration of Chefs
CHEFMAKERS Cooking Academy
It’s fortunate that the world’s largest atom-smasher shut down in Geneva, Switzerland this past week and had to be repaired after just ten days of operation. Los Angeles’s own human particle accelerator 2003 Bon Appétit Chef of the Year Alain Giraud was gearing up to teach class at the always stimulating Chefmakers Cooking Academy in Pacific Palisades (Chefmakers.com) last Thursday and there is no way these two powerful kinetic instruments could work at the same time if planet Earth hopes to remain on its axis. (Chef Giraud has a great new restaurant called Anisette Brasserie in Santa Monica and Alain thought he would take a breather from his 7:30 am to midnight duties and teach a class to 26 drooling citizens. I’ve been there for breakfast and lunch and I can barely chew because I’m smiling so much after each bite.)
Sand Cake, No Grit
I was with friends last night for an Italiam-themed potluck meal. My firend, Bobbie, brought a dessert she found in one of Michael Chiarello's cookbooks. Rosemary Sand Cake with Summer Berries is a light, lemony cake flecked with bits of fresh rosemary.
I used to watch Chiarello's Food Network show every Saturday. I love his casual style and his down-to-earth approach to food preparation and entertaining. And he just seems like such a nice guy.
He often made use of fresh herbs in the dishes he prepared on his show. For this cake, he chose rosemary.
The recipe calls for potato starch. It has a silky texture, similar to cornstarch and gives the cake a fine delicate texture. Bobbie found potato starch at our local natural food co-op, but I think many grocery stores carry it. It's probably on the shelf with other baking ingredients.
Walking Against the Wind
When I was 15 years old I went to Royce Hall at UCLA to see Marcel
Marceau. I really hate admitting that because people razz me about it
all the time, but honestly, I was dazzled by what I saw. The idea that
you could make people laugh without uttering one word fascinated me.
Seeing him play the strong man in the circus and give the illusion of
holding an enormous barbell as he bends all the way back to the ground,
or “walkeeng against zee weend”, or being trapped in ‘zee box’, just
blew me away man.
I don’t know what gave me the balls to do this, but I went backstage. After gushing for 5 minutes I asked him if he could recommend someone in Los Angeles who could teach me the technique. Let me first say, that when he opened his mouth and spoke, out came a high-pitched, reedy voice. He chose the right trade. But the guy was so kind and gracious. He told me that Richmond Shepard was a former student of his and a good teacher.
Al Fresco
I just drove by the sweetest scene: an elderly couple picnicking in Palisades Park on Ocean Avenue, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Elderly, I say, when they are probably only ten years older than me. I am eternally drawn to the romantic notion of al fresco dining. (Al Fresco sounds like the name of a gangster gunned down while dining in Little Italy, though not necessarily outdoors.)
I have a fantasy of serving meals outdoors to be eaten on a long picnic table with a vintage French tablecloth and beautiful cutlery and cloth napkins. I also have a fantasy of hiking Mount Kilimanjaro, but it ain’t gonna happen anytime soon.
While I might like the idea of eating outdoors, I hate fighting the elements and the insects. So I never serve a meal outside and don’t really enjoy outdoor dining unless, perhaps, it’s on a screened-in porch. I like a barrier. I will, however, contradict myself and tell you I choose the patio at most restaurants because it can be infinitely more charming. Like, say, at The Ivy. Ivy at The Shore is safer from wind and flying bugs because it’s covered, so that’s the patio I prefer. But the charm of the patio at The Ivy in West Hollywood cannot be beat.
A very romantic, picnic-throwing person lives somewhere deep inside me. But she appears only every twenty years or so. Like a cicada. That’s how often I will organize (I use the word organize loosely, more like throw together) a picnic lunch. I was once obsessed with those terribly expensive picnic baskets that come with plates, napkins, thermos and all. OBSESSED!! Had to have one. Put one on my bridal registry.
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