Cooking With Ideas

A Teaser

What murder mystery author has a new book out featuring coffee, chocolate, and . . . and acknowledgement to Cooking with Ideas? Now that truly made me smile. (And thanks to this site for the image, silly as it is.)

Keep an eye on this very website for a review of the book in question! And yes, I have finished it -- but am just teasing you here. . . .

New Geneva-Related Blog

Check out this blog from a William Smith feminist. . . . and someone who can really really cook.

High on the Hog

I love this phrase, though I would probably never use it. So, when I saw a book of this title on the library shelf, it came home with me and I have devoured it. HIgh on the Hog, by Jessica B. Harris, is subtitled A Culinary Journey from Africa to America and is a swell, detailed, overview of much of that history. It includes pain -- of course, given the history of slavery, Jim Crow and ongoing discrimination -- and lots of history I did not know. Not surprisingly much of this revolves around the ways food and culinary prowess have been historically important across the centuries. Thus, for example, slaves selling and bartering food as a way to survive and, on occasion, accrue enough to purchase their freedom, continuities of foodstuffs (including the Columbian exchange wherein plants made it from the Western hemisphere to Africa and then came back with slaves as part of their diet), the role of free (and enslaved) African Americans in food service in urban areas (I was particularly intrigued by a historical figure named Robert Bogle in Philadelphia and by the place of oysters in New York City), and the role of trains in the history of American culinary development. Perhaps most out of my expectation was the section on African Americans and western migration -- including African American cowboys. Yes, I knew about Buffalo soldiers, but I did not really have African Americans in mind when I thought about chuck wagons.

Harris has written loads of books and has a writer's skill in telling stories. Here she connects her own experiences -- for example an early trip to New Orleans -- to the history she weaves together. Sometimes this can be burdensome, but in the case of High on the Hog, it carried me along as though I was talking with a new friend. It was good for me to learn about both "Big House" cooking and the cooking of other slaves, and to see the many distinctions within what I can join others in erroneously lumping together. And Harris does a great job of dispelling any mythology linking African American foodways to unhealthy eating, whiile deploring the socio-economic and discriminatory practices that she called "culinary apartheid." From famous photographs of the Greensboro sit ins at lunch counters to tales of recent (sometimes controversial within African American circles) television shows, Harris covers it all.

Harris is remarkable as well because she is a professor -- at Queens College CUNY and has held the Ray Charles Chair in African American Material Culture at Dillard University. And her recipes, included at the end of the book, come from a wide array of sources -- her family and well beyond that.

For a review from the New York Times, click here. For a short bit and audio clip from Harris, click here. And, for a CUNY TV video which features Harris (yep, she is a professor at Queens College CUNY and wouldn't I like to take a class with her), click here. For more from the Washington Post, try here.

Chicago, Chicago, That Toddling Town 3: A Bunch More Places

Yes, this is a third entry on Chicago. I love Chicago. And yes, the title that keeps repeating is an allusion to a famous song, one that friends, long forgotten, used when I left college for Chicago. Here's Frank Sinatra singing it. Anyway, besides graham elliot and oak park and blackbird, we ate. Yep, one does. So here are a few more comments on food in Chicago.

First: the Drake which is, of course, the landmark hotel, where we stayed. It is a famous and wonderful place and looks out right at the water of Lake Michigan. Their huge pinkish sign is iconic Chicago. I never ever thought, when I lived there, I woudl stay on the Miracle Mile, let alone in the Drake. I think of it as the setting of Nella Larson's Passing, though I may be wrong. We stayed for a while, and ate there occasionally, including from the Coq D'Ur, the famous bar where, on our first night, in desperation we endured a rude bar tender (in my opinion) and between us consumed some oysters (not me), carpaccio (very good though a bit dry; ask for olive oil. And do enjoy the crisy capers) and some (in my case) lovely lovely bookbinder soup. Yes, the restaurant named Bookbinders is in Phladelphia; but hey, the soup was dandy in Chicago. We also ate breakfast once in the hotel (very good) and had room service on a day of a bad head for me -- burgers and fries. And I can say: they do a very very good burger and fries.What does urban spoon have to say? Here's their stuff on the famous bar, the Coq d'Ur:

Also in the Drake, is a lavazza coffee place. We became habitues almost we went there so often. There is a vague chance that it is called Expressions, but I may be wrong. No, I am right! Hurrah -- the wonders of google! In any case, delightful fruit salad in which all the bits were (shock of shocks) ripe and tasty. And good coffee and really really swell tea. The wait staff, perhaps better labeled counter staff, were young women with a sense of humor. And here's urban spoon's take:

 And, at the Drake, we also went along to the fountain room -- for drinks one night, after learning of New York's decision to go with marriage equality and after a fun evening of gay theater (ok, I shoudl say queer, because queer it was) at the neo-futurist joint. Not to mention a history of LGBT Chicago at the Chicago History Museum. (what does it mean when --admittedly vinyl -- albums you own are hanging on the wall as a sign of history?) Anyway, at the Drake, the music was wonderful and the dancing fun (did we, we still wonder, shock the folks at the Drake?) and . . . the snacks were just tempting enough. Perhaps most wonderful, the change tossed in the fountain goes to help women and children whose lives are affected by domestic violence.

Of course, that's not all we did -- we also went out. You know that already. One of the places, where we were treated by friends, was a lovely tapas place called Cafe Ba Ba Reeba. We had a blast and have returned as sangria addicts (well, we keep threatening to make it). We ate loads of little bits, from goat cheese croquettes to salted fried peppers to (one carnivore delight) chorizo wrapped dates with cheese inside. We also had an egg and potato torte-ish thing and spicey potatoes and desserts which are lovely, small, and intensely tasty. I loved this place and not just because I loved the company and the (did I say) sangria. We got the traditional sangria (red wine and fruit) but there are others. I need to go back to Chciago to try the others. Right? Here's what 1159 (the hugest number I have ever seen on an urbanspoon gizmo) has to say:

Finally, we were out walking -- and came upon a cupcake joint. Yes, I have been watching Cupcake Wars (infelicitously named, since we should all oppose war whether figurative or literal) but still. And so we went in, all not knowing that Sprinkles is actually the place that started it all. (Yep, Candace Nelson started Sprinkles in Los Angeles.) Anyway,  I was surprised when we came out and saw little televisions embedded in the exterior walls -- and yes, the faces were familiar. Oprah. And Candace. I had a lemon cupcake; my dining partner got some sort of chocolate. We had tea -- and got some cupcake mix for a friend. While we sat outside, listening to cupcake gossip, I realized: these were simple, good, and definitely worth the time. And, urban spoon? Here you go:

Chicago -- not only toddling. Not only Windy. But a place of history, food, friends. Hurrah.

A Teaser: FInger Lakes Culinary Menu Will Be. . . .

As you know, the Finger Lakes Culinary Bounty is coming up on August 1.  This fund-raiser for FLCB (honoring Deb Whiting) always is a multicourse meal, at Geneva on the Lake, with entertainment and a silent auction. This year its menu will include:

A Petite Pork Pie  -- made with local ground pork-bacon-egg-sage-thyme and pork stock baked in a savory pie crust

Chilled Sorrel Soup with Potato Frites, Salmon Roe and Evan Farms Yogurt

And, of course, more, including Normal Bread, but I want there to be surprises still. No surprise -- local chefs, local foods, and all sorts of silent auction items -- from local wines to local ice cream to B and B stays.

For ticket information, call Geneva on the Lake at: 315-789-7190.

Sheep's Milk Yogurt Plus Fresh Fruit = A Surprise Treat

So, I have been feeling more inventive in the kitchen lately (no clue why) and so I often end up just making something up. Sometimes this actually works. I have been adding dollops of this and that to plates, and trying to ensure the plating is lovely too. And, so, one night, there I was, with a sheep's milk yogurt, some sliced fresh strawberries, and 2 black velvet apricots I bought because, well, frankly, they were beautiful. The sheep's milk yogurt is from here. I have bought it twice because I think I will eat it and then end up using it to make things. The ginger is what attracts me. Plus, I am trying to have some sort of sense of food adventure. Anyway, here's what I did with the latest batch I bought:

1. I threw some strawberries into a small food processor (maybe 1/4 to 1/3 cup. I added some of the yogurt which, by the way, was ginger flavored to start with. How much? Maybe 3 Tablespoons? And then I whirred things for a bit. Not too lung, so there were some chunks. I added some finely chopped fresh ginger (maybe 1/2 Tablespoon and a few bits of candied ginger before I whirred.

2. I divided what I got between two small ramekins and stuck them in the freezer, covered with some clear wrap. I let them more or less freeze (not quite the whole way because I am not known for my patience).

3. Meanwhile, I peeled the two apricots (which, alas, were a tad overripe) and tossed the fruit into the (clean) food processor, added a bit of yogurt and whirred again. I then added this on top of the (now more or less frozen) strawberry stuff.

4. Once the now striped wonder froze, I served it with a few strawberry slices and a piece of mint on top. It was actually among the more delightful things ever. The tastes went well together, the strawberry and apricot went nicely with the sheep yogurt flavor and the ginger brought out the highlights. If I make it again, all I will do is make it a tiny bit less sugary by, perhaps, omitting the candied ginger.

Chicago, Chicago, That Toddling Town 2: Blackbird

So, at graham elliot's we indiscretely asked the waiter: where else would you go in Chicago? And one place he mentioned was Blackbird. So off we went, for lunch because . . . . well, we wanted to try Blackbird and lunch was what we could arrange. And a dandy lunch we had. A dandy one.

Ever since then, various songs have been flitting through my brain involving blackbirds. And not blackbird pie but songs like this one. Yep, the Beatles. No reason -- just came to mind when I first heard of a restaurant called . . . Blackbird.

What did we eat and drink at this Michelin starred restaurant?  Well, I just had to order the drink called the blackberry betty. And my dining partner drank a wine (a cotes du rhone)  -- which was not so swell and eventually was replaced by a blend with the word blackbird in its name. (My tweak to the restaurant -- and to us -- is trust the diner's judgment. If the diner thinks, on a quaff or two, that the wine won't work, it is already not working and should, as this one eventually was, be replaced. At no cost to the diner. Quickly.)

Tweaks to the contrary notwithstanding (a phrase I love), the meal was swell. We each began with cucumber soup -- and it was the most cucumber-y thing ever. Smooth. Green. Cucumber-y. With it, I had a pork belly sandwich, which I chose after some dithering because face it, I love pork belly. It was swell, though I admit it was a bit much for me. It came with a cucumber and fennel salad which had a light cream-like dressing and which was really really nice -- light, just the right fennel (aka licorice) note to the ensemble casting. And my dining companion had duck confit and sausage. This was delightful; the confit not too salty or dry, and in fact with a mouth feel closer to braised, and the sausage finely groundf and lightly seasoned. Mmmm. Afterwards? Well, yes we got espresso (I do not know why and I admit I prefer mine to come closer to dessert) and desserts. What were the desserts? Lovage ganache and quinoa crunch with chocolate (on my part) and a frozen parfait-like thing deconstructed (which came with the most delightful milk meringue floating beside it -- whiter than any food I have ever seen before).

The setting was nice. We liked the sleek but welcoming mix of white and steel. I especially liked the swoop of steel -- or at least metallic -- above the area of the kitchen, and hte combination of white table cloth vibe with easy going, white paper on the table vibe. There was a little more hautiness to the wait staff vibe than I actually enjoy -- really, I do know food, really I do -- and I do not think treating people in a snotty sort of way improves the food -- but hey, I had just been to several other nice places.

All in all, and despite that, a lovely lunch. And what urban spoon thinks, though more likely about dinner, is still relevant:

Oak Park . . . .

So, we were in Oak Park, which is kind of outside Chicago (not far) and we wernt to the same place twice: Prairie Bread Kitchen. The food is wonderful, clearly the place is beloved by locals, right next to the train track heading to and from Chicago, and the young people who serve and work there seem endlessly sunny. Among other things, they have the best cheese sticks ever -- with just the right soupcon of cayenne and a very cheese-y (in the good sense) flavor.  The first time I went there (this trip) I had a curry chicken sandwich which had sun dried tomato, cucumber, a sort of apple chutney, and sour dough bread. It was delicious. The second  time I had a BLT salad and a chicken gumbo soup. I loved hte rice in the coup and the soup overall. And the blueberry lemonade I had was nicely tart. Not quite as perfect, perhaps because I was not quite as ravenous, but delicious nonetheless. And, later that day, I had a peanut butter cookie from them. I wish we had one of these in Geneva. Hmmmm. I am not surprised that urban spoon says this:

We also went to Trader Joe's in Oak Park. Yep. For the ROAD TRiP home. We bought all sorts of lovely things, including too much chocolate. I think it is all gone now. And we still say -- wow, those were good. A much better solution to staying alert en route than too many too acid-y coffees. Trader Joe's -- huzza. And why do we not have one here?

Where are these places?

Prairie Bread Kitchen, 103 N. Marion Street, Oak Park, Illinois

Trader Joe's -- well, lots of places, just not Geneva, NY. In this case: 483 N Harlem Ave
Oak Park, IL 60301-6400

 

EAT LOCAL -- REALLY

Are you a fan of local food? Are you a fan of local wine? beer? cocktails? juice? Are you a fan of local chefs? Are you a fan of people you have never seen before who enjoy similar things? Call Geneva on the Lake, in Geneva, NY and join us all for the Finger Lakes Culinary Bounty Harvet Dinner. Celebrate local. Celebrate Deb Whiting. And, of course, celebrate the Finger Lakes.

Chicago, Chicago, That Toddling Town 1: graham elliot

Graham Elliot is following me. Really. First, I go to his restaurant (where I do not see him but do have a really swell waiter and a really really swell meal). And then he is everywhere. He is in Bon Apetit (with the lovely moniker of rebel). And then, I watch Master Chef ( for one of the first times ever) and there he is. Graham Elliot is following me.

But really, about the restaurant. Here's the scoop: the place is hip. In fact, for a tiny moment, I felt unhipbecause I felt too old for the place, but that drifted away as we both got compliments (on the fish shirt my dining partner was wearing) and debated the menu (tasting of a shorter or longer version or, gasp, a la carte?). In fact, I eventually felt hip. Not really me, but hmmmm. Hip?

We went with the medium length tasting. And believe me, it was pretty damn good. It included bits and bobs that were not there on the menu, most excitingly a short trip to the kitchen (where alas, not even the chef of that evening was still there, but still) and a really great waiter who both got us, got food and wine, and was kind. Plus, they gave us a copy of the (autographed) menu at the end of the evening. Well, two copies, one autographed. And a fois gras lollipop which sounds bad but was actually really good. In a sort of Mae West kind of way. And, we mentioned having wanted one other thing not included on the tasting and voila, it appeared, sans charge. Yes, we spent a lot. But it was a truly amazing meal.

So: the menu: in all it's luciousness. A menu that went on for some time. That made us happy. That made us smile. It all began with popcorn. . . and for me, it ended with a fois gras lollipop. Here it goes:

Popcorn: with parmesan fluff (aka lightly grated), black pepper, and (I think) chives. It was great. Why? Truffle oil. Yep. And it went well with the drinks. I wanted to lick the little serving gizmo. In fact, we have been trying to replicate it at home. We'll never q    uite get to the surprise of what it was that night, but we keep on trying. And yes, I do own truffle oil.

Then, an amuse bouche. It was a green panna cotta in a shot glass (who invented that) and it was amazing. It had some caviar on it -- steelhead roe -- and the combination of tastes was perfectly savory. The caviar popped. In fact, it popped so much I was unsure it was caviar.  And it was made with ---- wood sorrel. (That's what made it green.)

This was followed by the first official dish of the tasting, octopus. I was a tad nervous but this was one of my favorite dishes. The menu said "liquid olive" and smoked potato and piquillo pepper. The liquid olive was the smoothest, olive-y-est green goo with a tiny dollp of red (yep, the pepper) and the octopus was both charred tasting and sweet simultaneously.

This was followed by one of the restaurant's most famous bits -- a caesar salad - kind of deconstructed into a brioche twinkie with gem lettuce inside and a white anchovy on top. Yep, once again I was nervous because I am not an anchovie person. I was converted. On the other hand, I found the lettuce a bit too cold for my taste. My dining partner, though, loved loved loved this dish.

This was followed by an onion course. Yep. Onion soup. I actually love it when you get a soup bowl with bits in it and then the waiter pours liquid into the bowl. In this case, the lovely green soup came out of a beaker; and the bits in the bowl included a green gel-like strip and the menu says things like icycle scallion and pickled ramp. This was, in many ways, the best course. (But I may say that about others.)

Next: foie gras with compressed rhubarb, caraway streusel (yes, you can get it without the streusel if you have an allergy to caraway), and candied angelica. MMMMMMMM Compressed rhubarb may be my next favorite thing. And I know I am supposed to be opposed to foie on all sorts of grounds but I am not. I love it.

There then followed a surprise pallette cleanser which tasted absolutely wonderful and sounds weird: green strawberry, honey crema and macona almonds. The best tart bit ever.

And we were on to proteins for a bit: swordfish, skate, chicken, lamb. Each bit was a bit (yep, they scale servings to the tasting you are doing.) I can still see and taste the chicken, which sounded sort of ordinary and tasted extraordinary -- chicken with baby carrot, israeli couscous and honey granule. The chicken was the most perfect chicken ever. And just a bit. I like the two fish tastings as well -- I make skate occasionally and somehow they managed to make it less oily. My one quibble with the whole meal was the lamb, which . . . .just did not do it for me.

Then there was a brief trip to the kitchen, which was fun fun fun -- and I was amazed by the orderliness and an intermezzo, served in a beaker, of madagascar vanilla, morello cherry, and soda spritzer.

Dessert: here's where we lost control, because I mentioned we'd been torn about the tasting because of one of the desserts which was not on our tasting. Rather than substitute, they brought us that one as well. So, three desserts -- hte lemon had blueberry gelato, violet foam, and a poppy ribbon. The poppy ribbon was white, and tasted more like poppy seeds than anything I have ever eaten, including my beloved Mohn torte from Dano's. The surprise involved lemon thyme and honey and . . . I will leave you in a mystery. The final (Not quite) was chocolate which involved majari cremeux, jivara ganache, and ancho chili. I ate two.

And yes, I ate the whole foie lollipop. What a meal. What a meal.

  DRINKS: Ok, I began with a drink that involved the word fiddleheads and in reality involved cucumbers (which seem to be all the trend in drinks these days) as well as a combo of gin and vodka (I think) and talked my dining partner into a split of champagne, which was lovely (since I had some) before we started the pairing with the tasting. THe waiter was great in putting it away appropriately in a lovely silver bucket.) The quanitity consumed may have been just a teeny tad too much for me in the end but we also slowly but surely ate a lot. In any case, the drink was absolutely the best drink ever. The champagne was great and the pairing was to die for. The whites were especially good and the final dessert wine. Here are the details:

    *with octopus: 2008 barranc "dels closes" garnacha blanca/macabeu/pedro ximinez, priorat

    *with caesar: 2009 domaine des vieux benjamin gaubert semillon/sauvignon blanc, graves

     *with onion: 2009 gustave lorentz pinot blanc, alsace

    *with foie: 2008 couly dutheil "les chanteaux" chenin blanc, chinon

    *with swordfish: 2009 coenobium bianca terbbiano/malvasia blanca, verdicchio, lazio

    *with skate: 2009 grosjean pinot noir, vallee d'aosta

    *with chicken: 2009 tamarack cellars cabernet franc, wahluke slope

    *with lamb: nv sean b. thackrey "pleiades xix" old vine red blend, bolinas

    *with lemon: sloeberry gin fizz. In memory this slides a bit into the cherry spritzer, but was dandy. . . .

    *with chocolate: I so loved -- noe 30 year pedro ximenez manzilla that I may buy some. Over the top.

As an utterly exciting side note: we did have one other item to drink (besides the water): the spritzer noted above. Wowzers.

SERVICE: As noted, the waiter was splendiferous. He chatted and even, when asked, did break down and tell us his second choice Chicago restaurant(s). We went to one. He was kind, informed, and had a sense of humor.

SETTING: KInd young hip meets trendy formal?

ON THE WALLS: Not a lot.

 BATHROOM REVIEW:I can't remember. I do not care?

Graham Elliot has a Michelin Star. Yep. This may only be the second time I went to such a place, since Charlie Trotter's did not have its two stars when I went there. Maybe one place in Paris? Anyway, graham elliot has one. And, oddly, urban spoon does have something to say. Here's what

We spent money. We were there for hours. We'd go back. It was a truly great meal. And this despite the fact that graham elliot is following me.