Ritz Bites

Mobile Food Trend: Will It Stay or Should It Go? and Other Dwell on Design Thoughts

Edgy eyewear, crisp lines aplenty, sustainable materials up the yin yang, and the many other components that created the Dwell on Design gestalt were within tangible grasp of Los Angeles aesthetes. Of the panels and discussions, perhaps the most anticipated event was Saturday night's movie event hosted at the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA. Docs about Julius Shulman and environmental activism in Boston were part of the draw, but food on wheels proved to be the main attraction to the sold-out event. This was a Restaurant Row absent of any trace of Lawry's, the Stinking Rose, and Benihana.

Roach coaches from Sprinkles, Coolhaus (debuting its newest flavor, Louis Kahntaloupe; I struck out, alas), the Green Truck, Barbie's Q, Let's Be Frank and Locali's "Icycle" frozen dessert tricycle did brisk business. I was quite the permissive mom and James got INSANELY messy, between the cupcake and mint choco chip ice cream sandwich. NEVER underestimate the appeal a "truck with cupcakes" has to a toddler.

The trucks and customers activated the hardscape beneath the steel structure in an exciting way. But it also provided some fodder for geeky urban planning-type debate.

This latest craze makes perfect sense in our mobility-obsessed city, offers a big convenience factor, and can get people to experience public life and know sidewalks they might otherwise never see. And yet I wonder. Is it a hipster/bourgie fetish of something that's already existed for decades mostly in lower income communities out of necessity? Does this phenomenon celebrate or ultimately belittle food trucks, co-opting and turning it into a flash-in-the-pan trend?

Or will more eateries jump on the bandwagon, making it a permanent addition to the city landscape and a rare tool that manages to cut across socio-economic lines? 

But let me state that part of this anti-romanticizing comes from six years of having food trucks as my school cafeteria.

Anyway, getting back to what I actually saw, food-oriented highlights from the convention hall included the eye-popping green -- literally and figuratively -- recyclable kitchen by Valcucine, displayed with a fabulously practical plant wall that momentarily took me back to the Casa Camper in Barcelona. And after seeing the Zyliss SmartTouch salad spinner included in designboom's Kitchen Ecology exhibition, I might have to ditch my old trusty, beat up Oxo.

Other reports: Marissa went on the East Side home tour, and Pat at Eating L.A. spent a few hours at the Square Meal panels and demos on Sunday.

Coolhaus competition: where ice cream AND architecture geeks unite!

Since spotting the super cute Coolhaus ice cream sandwich truck tooling along Hyperion yesterday, I'm gripped with the compulsion to keep coming up with punny names for its naming competition co-sponsored by the Dwell on Design conference. (Read details about the Sweetest Contest Ever here on Dwell's website if you want to participate, and check out Alissa's video.) I'm usually terrible at this sort of thing -- especially compared to the pun masters Aram and my brother-in-law Jake -- but for patently obvious reasons, I can't resist giving it a shot.

Below are my corny ideas ... so far. But I really must stop already. And granted, not all of the inspirations are strictly modern architects/designers. (Links to the referenced architects attached.)

I.M. Peach (ginger cookies, peach Madeira sorbet)
Tadao Toasted Almond (lavender cookies, toasted almond ice cream)
Edward Durell Stone Fruit (sea salt cookies, apricot sorbet with crushed lollipops)
Norman Bananas Foster (caramel cookies, banana brown butter ice cream)
Herzog de Melon (clove-spiced cookies, cantaloupe sorbet)
Aldo Red Raspberry (basil cookies, red raspberry sorbet)
Jean Nougat (hazelnut cookies, nougat ice cream)
Eerie Spearmint-en (zucchini cookies, spearmint ice cream)
Gorge-on Cinnamon Bunshaft (cinnamon bun cookies, maple ice cream)
Josef & Anni Albariño (lemongrass-infused cookies, Albariño wine sorbet)
Mocha Chip-idus (mocha cookies, chocolate chocolate chip ice cream)
Yens Rice-Yum (green tea-infused cookies, sake ice cream)
Henry's Bacon (biscuits with bacon, vanilla-bacon ice cream)
Birchtram Goodhues (rainbow swirl cookies with birch beer ice cream)

Exclusively California architects edition:

Stylin' O. Clementine (rhubarb cookies, clementine sorbet)
Thom Mayne Blueberry (honey cookies, Maine blueberry ice cream)
Toffee-ael Soriano (molasses cookies, toffee crunch ice cream)
George Washington Granny Smith (dried cherry cookies, granny smith ice cream)
Cloud Beerman (vanilla cookies, malt ice cream with layer of marshmallow)
Walnut Neff (walnut cookies, chevre ice cream)
Three Alarm Siren Hunt (cayenne pepper cookies, jalapeño ice cream)
Cool-ya Morgan (strawberry cookies, Captain Morgan rum raisin ice cream)
Marron Cliff-Ce (iced oatmeal cookies, marron glace ice cream)
AlFreddo RosenThyme (thyme cookies, rosewater ice cream)
WellDone Becket Biscuit (brown butter biscuit, buttermilk ice cream)

Final note: despite the length of this list, I have no delusions of any of mine becoming the winning entry. Yet I have nothing to lose but a little bit of my time. And dignity.

More this n' that from the JBFAs

I've already summarized the Angeleno presence on Monday at the James Beard Awards. Here are some other miscellaneous observations and dish.

I know from seeing plenty of celebs that they're always smaller or bigger than you expect. Martha was, like, a giant. I recognize those gottahavethem Manolo d'orsay pumps; looks like she's a size 40 to me, and has a very high tolerance for stiletto pain. Martha and Lorraine Bracco had a lot to talk about as Ms. Steward balanced herself on the couch arm next to me in the press room before the show started. I don't want to dwell on other starstruck moments, but Grant Achatz up close...Foxy!

After all the orange ribbon medals were handed out and the near-Oscars-length ceremony ended, it was time to eat at the Women in Food themed gala. Yay, finally. I've been to some disorganized, patience-testing tasting events. This was definitely NOT one of those. The food and drink were plentiful and efficiently churned out for a big crowd. That's the way to do it y'all, and thankfully all the pros are there to impress with their A game. 

The small bites ranged from the familiar to the uncharted. To wit: Fiore di Nonno burrata on bulgur crackers with artichoke and green olive (Jody Adams of Rialto) vs. Bolinas goat tongue on a thick crisp crouton with Meyer lemon, fenugreek, mint and tomato chutney (Loretta Keller of Coco500) .

Jennifer Petrusky of Charlie Trotter's super seasonal fava bean and onion surprise did leave us wondering what the that mysterious element was. The morels were obvious, but the terrine seemed to have something else to make it dense. Turns out it was all morels in there, topped with the pickled onions, more morels, and duck gizzards. Surprise!

A few desserts required a second round. Green apple sorbet topped with Alaskan king crab and crab butter powder served in little bamboo bowls by Holly Smith of Cafe Juanita

showcased intriguing texture, flavor, and temperature contrasts, even if the sorbet was a little overly sweet.

Danica Pollard's beautiful toasted almost and rose bonet (similar to flan) with rhubarb and candied rose petals and Kate Zuckerman of Chanterelle's warm coconut-cardamom rice pudding with rhubarb and kumquats were both gorgeous to look at and taste.

Green apples in the pink rose and verbena flower arrangement at Pollard's Lidia's Kansas City station is something I'll have to copy in future flower arranging  endeavors. Asparagus with white tulips at award-winner Maria Hines of Tilth's table, where the Best Chef Northwest winner set out beef carpaccio with asparagus, horseradish creme fraiche and sorrel, wasn't quite as pretty, but I love these efforts to incorporate food with flowers. 

One last little thought. Given the overflowing trash cans full of plastic plates and utensils, I recommend there be a Green Food /Good Habits attempt in future years.

Late April/early May: A lovely time to visit Central New York

Yeah, of course NYC is always fun, but sure isn't relaxing. A few days in Ithaca felt more like the vacation we wanted. A few images from around the Finger Lakes region, where hopefully the quality of the cooking will someday soon better honor and be on par with that of the locally cultivated ingredients.

Beautiful spring flowers at the Ithaca Farmers Market. Lilacs are just starting to bloom; in a week or so they'll be in full force like the blazing yellow forsythia is.

Talk about determined bakers. They hitch and TOW their wood-burning oven to make on-site pizzas and other breads. The croissants were dense and forgettable, but the berry brioche was delicious (not baked in the featured device, obviously).

Beautiful aggressively local mushrooms.

The Piggery, terrific Trumansburg folks who've made a successful go of it pig farming and making amazing fresh sausages, bacon, terrines, and other porky goodies. Oh man, did we LOVE the spicy Italian combined with local kale raab from Blue Heron Farm with pasta that night. 

Many visits to Gimme! Coffee, State Street, Farmers Market, and Cayuga Street locations, but mostly the recently remodeled Cayuga (pictured). Henry could not be more proud of his hometown. Not that Moosewood isn't a pride-worthy community asset...

I spent most of our day wine tasting as designated driver, yet managed to sneak in some semi-responsible sips.  Our extremely carefully planned itinerary (there are MANY bad wineries to avoid) was mostly centered around Keuka Lake and Seneca, with stops and buying sprees at Ravines and Dr. Frank, of course. We bought some late harvest dessert and ice wines at Hunt Country, and squeezed in a last tasting at Hermann J. Wiemer (above). It was the stinkiest, most sulfur-smelling spot, but not without other distinct advantages: the tasting room is in the actual belly of the winemaking beast, and the very tasteful, simply appointed wine shop sells only wine. No "Got Wine?" shirts or other painfully tacky wine paraphernalia. 

I'll be able to enjoy the Reisling bounty in a year or so, but in the meantime, I got something out of the day: antiquing in Hammondsport. All for the better. I needed to reunite with my inner rummager rather than drinker anyway.

 

Neo-crunchy: The Hazelnut Kitchen, Trumansburg, NY

If you were tell people who grew up in a very-small-town-outside-of-what's-already-a-small-town that their hometown probably has the best restaurant in the area, they might not believe you. Particularly those who have since moved away from said very small town. I imagine a lot of our friends from Trumansburg, NY, which is a few miles away from my husband's charming hometown, will have that reaction.

But the good people of Trumansburg, the "progressive yet rural community" that houses many small organic family-run farms and such, are lucky to have the Hazelnut Kitchen around. (The quoted description above of T-burg comes from the restaurant's website.) Part Americana cafe, part sophisticated bistro, and part venue for encouraging locavore-ism, it's a friendly, delicious restaurant I'd be absolutely thrilled to have in my big city neighborhood. It likely would be packed all the time. Instead on a Thursday night it's a low-key, quiet, well-worn but not at all shabby room with high ceilings, wood booths, an open kitchen and checkerboard floors -- the space was the funky town diner for many years -- with a smattering of happy customers and a couple of loud crazy toddlers running around (our fault).

Hazelnut Kitchen is the next logical step for the post-Moosewood generation who have come to expect the legacy of Chez Panisse and some classical techniques in this type of neo-crunchy context, versus meals that make you feel like you just "ate the lawn," as my father in law would say. Which isn't to dis the original wonderful institution of which my fabulous cousin David is still a part.

Back to the kids; the little ones have NO idea how good they have it there. The grilled cheese on thick country white bread with sesame crust plus two sides combo was truly exceptional, and easily would cost twice as much than its modest $6.50 elsewhere. Us adults wound up polishing off the sandwiches after the tots filled up on fries and peas.

We also loved the delicate fluffy pea flan that was redolent of spring in the area and served with a refreshing radish, asparagus and minty salad. The pork chop special with okra, both sauteed and served under the chop as well as with a couple battered and fried pieces, was a major tone shift, but perfectly prepared and full of flavor. I didn't finish the tart with local beets, potatoes, local goat cheese, and chunky that was heavy on the pepper because dessert was an absolute must. How could I refuse apple bourbon strudel with ice cream on a bed of creme anglaise, and hazelnut butter cake with fresh plums integrated into the cake, creme anglaise, and hazelnut ice cream?

So should you ever happen to be passing through Trumansburg, Ithaca, or anywhere in a 30 or so mile radius, this is the spot, folks.

53 East Main Street
Trumansburg, NY
607.387.4433

Coming to a home near you: Mozza To Go

Because we're on vacation in New York and Ithaca for a couple of weeks and I don't have much time to post, I'll just cannibalize my own Squid Ink LA Weekly post about the latest forthcoming addition to the Mozza Empire. Cheers! Yay! Etc.

Sprouting broccoli smackdown: Weiser vs. McGrath

Spring in SoCal is made extra special thanks to the magical world of broccoli. A couple weeks ago on a whim I grabbed a big bag of Weiser's sprouting kind. With no thick central stalk around which the plant is arranged, its spindly skinny stems, purple florettes, and funny leaves shoot out every which way.  What a goofy vegetable.

Being unsure about the outcome, I trimmed the stalks down a lot and mixed it with cauliflower to roast and make one of my veg-pasta standards. It added some nice contrast to what's otherwise quite the exploration of monochromatic foods, what with the pasta, cauliflower, pine nuts, shallots,  Parm and whatnot, but this mix probably just muted the pure sprouted broccoli experience.

So last week at the market I saw McGrath has its own kind. It's not as exotic in the color department; it's basically a dark, iron-promising green. The leaves and stems are shorter and less gnarly than Weiser's, so I just rinsed and roasted with olive oil, garlic and shallots. If only making vegetables were ALWAYS this convenient without involving food science and creepy vacuum-packed bags from commercial supermarkets. When munched raw the broccoli had a little spicy tang, which was mostly lost in the cooking.

Upshot is they're both great. (I'm never much one for competition anyway.) And it would be nice if all these guys could hang around longer. But then they'd be less special. Tough call. Anyway, if you come across some, buy a big bag (it's pricey at about $5/pound, but it's all usable so worth the price), then let the stalks, trees, and leaves be untamed. Let sprouting broccoli's freak flag fly.

Holiday with family, friends and strangers: Passover at Angeli

The idea of having a holiday ritual meal in a restaurant always seemed depressing. Thanksgiving and Passover meant hanging out with my friends and family in a private home, with no public or any shared space involved whatsoever. The exception being Christmas, which doesn't count since we don't celebrate per se it and always eat out on the eve of the 24th (drinks at Shutters followed by dinner at Javan, as most of our friends know).

Or so I used to think.

While I love cooking for holidays and having folks over, even one or two of these big fat meals per year start to wear on you. It's tiring being The Person That Almost Always Hosts [Passover, New Year's Eve, Thanksgiving if we're in town, etc]. With no motivation to host Seder this year and no invitations coming our way, I made a family executive decision to do the unthinkable: celebrate Passover in a restaurant.

My dad was thrilled. My husband relieved. My mom OK with it. My sister sort of shocked (she doesn't live here anyway, and instead would be hosting 20 people at her NYC apartment). And a few friends were happy to join us.

Evan put together a fabulous, soul-satisfying meal at Angeli with a BYOC (Bring Your Own Ceremony) policy. The price for the traditional trimmings, sweet and sour pesce en carpione, chicken matzo ball soup with dumplings, pot roast, roasted chicken, "mazzagna," spring veggie stew called cianfotta, salad and dessert was more than right at $40. We rushed through my mom's Eight Minute Haggadah in about five due to a restless toddler, but we inspired our dining neighbors to join us for a few rounds of "Go Down Moses" and "Dayanu." It was my second communal meal at Angeli that week; meeting strangers and pleasant conversation is inevitable at the Melrose neighborhood standby.

Best of all we ate a perfect mix of Italian, Mediterranean and Ashkenazi foods (the pasty Sephardic style haroset was a welcome change from our usual chunky version), uncorked our own bottles of very non-kosher Consilience, paid the bill, went home, and woke up in the morning still full and without a pile of dishes to tackle. I think we've found a new tradition.

Boccalone pancetta: The pig that keeps on giving

When two-plus POUNDS of cured pork product from San Francisco's Boccalone shows up on your doorstep (thanks, Cicely!), what does one do?

First, feel grateful to be in possession of a well-sharpened meat slicing knife. This is a tough mofo to cut. Then use the ginormous slab of peppery and herb-infused pancetta piana in all dishes in which lesser pedestrian pancetta or bacon would otherwise be used: spaghetti alla carbonara, bucatini all'amatriciana, my own variation of carbonara with thinly sliced zucchini, roasted Brussels sprouts.

For a couple weeks we were eating a lot of this really porky stuff that turns a beautiful translucent ivory when cooked. And I eventually learned that less is certainly more. (And remember what I said about having over two lbs of it?)

I'm out of ideas. So what next?

Piroshki Lady, Plummer Park

I hope I'm not ruining a good thing by posting this info, so I'll keep it simple.

If you happen to be hungry and at Plummer Park in West Hollywood, look out for the old Russian lady with the bubushka, heavy clothing and world-weary posture to match, and a sweet smile pushing a beat up shopping cart. She's usually around mid-day. Choose between peppery potato or sweet cheese pierogi, or rather, piroshki.

Give her a dollar for each one (which BTW is not called a piroshki in the singular form.) She hands you the warm filled dough in a paper towel, and hangs out with her cart holding the keep-warm steamers and Ralphs bags until the parents and kids at the playground and chess players exhaust her supply.

Her product isn't the softer, dense semicircular, round or mezzaluna shaped dumpling we often associate with Eastern European pierogi, but are single servings formed like a long potato or a mini football. (As a [mostly] Russian/former Soviet-descended Jew, I feel guilty for not knowing more about this food genre.) The outside crust is rather firm, and either baked or fried -- the former, I hope -- to a perfect golden brown.The filling has some room to breathe inside all that expanded dough.

It's a treat that brings the boys and girls of all ages to the yard.

7377 Santa Monica Blvd.
West Hollywood