Showing posts with label Anthony Bourdain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anthony Bourdain. Show all posts

Friday, July 2, 2010

From Friday, June 18, at 3 Doors Down Cafe, a cocktail and an appetizer

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House-made maraschino cherry sidecar, a refreshing cocktail with the added delight of those two cherries, one Bing, one Rainier. See the juice about the drip from the Bing?

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Thanks to 3 Doors Down Cafe for widening my food experience well beyond its former boundaries. Here you see the latest in a six-year-long line of luscious-looking dishes whose tastes, smells, and textures are all designed to please the senses. This is an appetizer, a house-made rabbit and pork terrine, served with accoutrements: the mustard and the cornichons (tiny tart pickles) and the toasted, sliced baguette. The roundish shapes in the slice of terrine are hazelnuts I found out once I had finished and flew to the kitchen to ask, "What's that nut in the terrine? "Hazelnut," Dave answered, a slight smile on his face, as Lamont stood to his right, sort of shaking his head in wonder that I've eaten the terrine and loved it. (He does that whenever I eat anything new and different because he knows what a picky eater I was growing up, really disgustingly picky.) I loved my first hazelnuts, too. Yummy mild flavor, smooth texture. Every single bite of that terrine, slowly eaten to extend the experience, yummy. I confess, I didn't eat any of the mustard--I'm not much for mustard--it's too pungent for me. But that bread, that terrine, those cornichons, a perfect combination of flavors, crispness, and densities.

Curious about the terrine's provenance, later on I got Lamont to explain it to me. Seems that at 3 Doors Down, the rabbit and pork are rough ground, mixed with eggs and spices (I didn't get a list of them), the hazelnuts, then poured into a thinly-sliced-proscuitto-or-pancetta-lined iron loaf pan (Lamont couldn't remember which P--they're both divine Ps from pigs to me.) The loaf pan is placed in a water bath which is then placed into the oven where it is baked. Lamont explained that because the mixture expands as it bakes, once it's out of the oven, while still in the loaf pan, it's wrapped in foil or paper--I can't remember what for sure and I've already called the poor guy twice in the last three hours--and a piece of something sturdy (like cardboard) is cut to fit onto the top of the loaf, fitting up against the inside rim of the pan, then something heavy, like a brick or two or a ten-pound weight, is put on top to cover the entire sturdy piece completely in order to compress the mixture as it cools. The whole idea is to compress the ingredients into a firm loaf that will slice smoothly into an attractive piece of forcemeat. See the photo for success.

And I have to say that thanks again to 3 Doors Down Cafe, for when I read page xiii of "Medium Raw," I knew exactly what Anthony Bourdain meant when he wrote these words: terrines, rillettes, and pate. I've savored bites of each one of them at one time or another there where my two sons and a whole lot of other intelligent, creative, determined, hard-working people willingly step up repeatedly to prepare, to cook, to serve those of us blessed with the time and the money for a night out, dining on the results of their excellent efforts. Thank you, one and all.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Squint. Use your imagination. It's really Bourdain.

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Somewhere early on Bourdain told us that he'd spent part of the day signing 1400 books, that Portland had put him on the best seller list! He did sell out both shows put on by Powells Books--a signed book came with the ticket.

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Maybe here he's talking about how to keep his daughter out of the clutches of the Clown, the King and the Colonel. You'll have to read the book, "Medium Raw," for the whole story.

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It seems to me that Bourdain couldn't talk without using his hands. I know Southerners do that--I'm one of them. Do New Jerseyans talk with their hands, too? They must. You can see the blurry evidence right here. What do they call people from New Jersey anyway? I found New Jersyans at Famous New Jerseyans Dot Com and at About New Jersey Dot Com.

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Bourdain opened up the floor for questions, the floor and the balcony. I even managed to get to ask him a question, from the second row, stage left, thanks to Lamont's "Down front!" or something like that. Anyway, I asked, "You're such a good story teller. Do you come from a tradition of story telling?" Bourdain explained, in so many words, that indeed he did come from such a tradition, story tellers in the kitchen that is, those who stand around on break, or sit down together after the kitchen closes and tell about what went on when ... well, I can't remember exactly what he said, and even if I could I would not type it here. After all, he's Anthony Bourdain, and he's some kinda profane!

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A blissful hour gone by--filled with Bourdain's tidbits from "Medium Raw" and his answers to questions from throughout the Bagdad, plus his swallowing of two shots of Maker's Mark that two different guys in the audience asked if they could buy for him--and he showered smiles as he blithely walked off, stage left.

All too short. I'm on page 227 of 281 in "Medium Raw." I recommend it to those of you who are Bourdain-o-philes. I am certain that those of you who know him not would be somewhat shocked. If you're interested in reading Bourdain for the first time, start with "Kitchen Confidential," then "A Cook's Tour," then, "The Nasty Bits," then "Medium Raw." I myself have somehow missed "No Reservations: Around the World on an Empty Stomach." I'll let you know about it one of these days. And be sure to catch his Travel Channel program, "No Reservations." Hearing him on the show lends his quirky, mellifluous voice to every single word that you read.

Monday, June 28, 2010

What an event!

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Lamont, Leland, Sarah (from work), her friend whose name I cannot spell, and I experienced the 9 p.m. show! I took this as Lamont and I walked afterwards to his car--he gave me a ride home. The photos I took during Bourdain's talk and Q&A session are not very good--no flash photography allowed--but I will figure out which one(s) I like best and share them with you!

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

ABC Wednesday - C is for Chard

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I'm walking across the Hawthorne Bridge, eastward. It's the middle of May. Purely by chance, I glance down toward my feet, something I am not wont to do on a bridge because I'm afraid of heights and might accidentally notice that the Willamette is far below. On the sidewalk up ahead, I see this rather large green leaf. When I stop to take a closer look, I see that it is replete with white veins and all by itself. Lamont identifies it for me later on as chard. Bonne chance! I have an ABC Wednesday C photo! Three cheers for the comely chard--hip, hip, hooray! Thanks to the congenial comer-and-goer who left the chard leaf for me to come across.

Update: It's no wonder that Mama is weak right now--she has lost about 13 pounds since she became ill, so we're embarking on a campaign to improve her dining selection as many days a week as possible. On the evenings Lamont works at the restaurant, he has permission and plans to make her a small take-out meal which either I or Leland will pick up and take the Mt. Tabor. Other days one of us will cook something at home and take some of it to her. Dr. Yutan OK'd this and also said to get her vitamins to her--she's malnourished. She's to return to see him in three weeks. She's ready to keep working at getting better, even if she does have a rash all over her back and night sweats two out of the last three nights; Dr. Yutan believes both to be a reaction to a drug she'd started taking after the stent went in, one that helps make the platelets not stick to the stent. He put her on a new drug today. He is glad that she shows no signs of depression, something we've not seen either.

Duncan is better each day although he has yet to gain any weight. We rode the bus over tonight after work, visited a while and got home in time to see most of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations from Tuscany and from New Orleans. Well, I watched. The tired little dog is asleep in his chair. Bourdain alternates from irreverent to reverent with each passing minute, but, oh, does he love food, eating food, learning about food, cooking food, shopping for food. Each episode I wish I were on his crew. OK, I'll tell the truth--I'm not sure I could deal very well with the Asian foods, but I'd still want to be there, camera in hand, peanut butter and crackers stashed away, just in case.