Come to Jicama moment...

Dear Food:

We need to talk... Where do I begin?

It’s been a long year. Neither of us has been happy. I know you’re going to say that I’VE CHANGED. But truly, I think you have, too.

This is not an attack. I am the first to admit my wrongs, my faults, my shortcomings. I admit that I haven’t made this easy for you. I’ve been impatient, and, well, rude. Even things that you do well, or we’ll say relatively well, I’ve criticized. I know I can be demanding and judgmental, and while I’m not picky, maybe I’m holding you to an unrealistic expectation. You should be allowed to have an off day, make mistakes, learn lessons, grow, change. I acknowledge that I’ve made it hard, that I’ve been walking around town saying, “I don’t even know who you are anymore” or “maybe I never knew you” and, ok, I get that it’s not easy maintaining confidence when your partner is constantly disparaging you.

But food – really. I’m dying here. I spent four months only eating Whole Foods salads. I’ve lost weight. I can't remember the last time I took your picture. And, well… I am hungry.

So what do we do? How do we remedy this? Your Katie’s Margherita Pizza that once captured my fancy seems dull and lifeless these days.

Don’t get me started on your Monarch hummus (shudder).

It can’t be just me. I have to believe you’ve let yourself go – your tomatoes aren’t as fresh, your mozzarella not as melty, your chickpeas, a little too canned?

Brasserie in all of your French former-Chez-Leon owned-by-Niche glory? The cauliflower gratin is. Just. Cheese. On. Cauliflower.

I ate it, yes, paired with a lovely Bordeaux, and I didn’t squabble with the fact that I couldn’t eat your chicken-stock risotto. But I need MORE.

Please hear me – I’m not trying to pin this all on you. But what do you want from me? I’m a grown, educated woman, and I’m relegated to midnight toaster-oven nachos and lumpy Trader Joes’s instant fair trade cocoa made with water! I need love! I need adventure! I need compassion!

I’ve tried being independent, I’ve given you your space. I've done the whole "fly solo" thing. Heck - I mastered a three-egg omelet with breakfast potatoes!

I’ve even got a specialty in my pear-leek-goat cheese pizza accompanied with an orange-and-toasted-pumpkin-seed salad!

But we all know that god invented – ahem – food for a reason. Girl’s got needs.

So here’s the deal, food. I know we love each other; now we just need to start treating each other better. I don’t know how, but I will promise to try.

Let's compromise: you cook up something new and exciting, I’ll try to muster up the old thrill of food-photographing and stop declaring to anyone who will listen, “I’m not even sure it’s worth eating anymore.”

Or if that’s too much, let’s try baby steps – you start by never bringing up eggplant again, and I’ll get back to work on learning to love olives.

Maybe, if we work really hard, we’ll meet in the middle. Preferably at a vegetarian restaurant, but I haven’t forgotten my earlier comment so yes, I will be happy even with a good veggie menu option.

Good chat. Thanks. I feel closer to you already.

Sincerely,

MegFood

Maybe this time...

Maybe this time, I'll be lucky

Maybe this time, he'll stay

Maybe this time

For the first time

Love won't hurry away

-International Superstar Sally Bowles

I know I just wrote you off, St. Louis. I apologize. I had things to say, and while you might not feel better, I do, for having said them.

Of late, I’ve felt a spark. Just a little fluttering. I don’t want to read into things, because I know that our chances are slim, but The Good Pie has shown me that there may be hope for us yet.

Hand made crust cooked perfectly in a hand made brick oven, topped with fresh tomatoes crushed into a sauce and buffalo mozzarella and fresh basil. That’s all. Just perfectly warm, crisp, melty, and delicious.




Let’s not jump the gun, here. Let’s just leave it at maybe, just maybe...

Pizza Parade

Being cheese-wary (and no longer an adolescent), I don't consume the mass quantities of pizza that I used to. And too, I just loved Chicago-style pizza, and though I can appreciate Imo's and the St. Louis creation provel, my heart belongs to another crust. (sorry)

Nevertheless, there are times for pizza, and during those times it is crucial to have the proper balance of veggies, sauce, cheese, crust, spice, etc. This may vary from person to person, I will grant you. But I will also tell you this list is right. It just is.

First off, I'm not a fan of Blackthorn. To those unfamiliar, it's gooey, it's cheesy, it takes literally and seriously 2 hours to get your pie, and the restaurant (really more of a bar) is smoky. I know that people go crazy for it, but it's just too much cheese for me and I leave feeling like a stuffed (soy-based) pig. One stuffed with 2 lbs. of cheese, that is.

The pizza that I find most delicious in the STL is Pizzeria Della Piazza. It's on the Hill, of course. It's wood-fired, it's local, it's fresh, it has that awesome cornmealy crust, and it's not overly cheesed (well, rather, they respect your request for light cheese). I always get it with tomatoes, mushrooms, and onions. It's phenomenal. It can take a while to get your pizza, just like Blackthorn, but it's well worth it. And the house salad is yummy too! And the wine! (This is why I have my birthday party there every year...)

I have pizza in my family, which means that my taste has been upgraded slightly. I can no longer just take the old Domino's as it comes; no, I've been spoiled by home made and organic. My brother is a bit of a pizza connoisseur, and for holidays and visits he makes his own dough and whips out his famous pear-leek-goat cheese or lemon margherita. wow!

But if you're in the STL and it's not a holiday or brother's not visiting, then the closest thing, probably, is the newest pizza joint in town, Katie's Pizzeria. It's actually pretty good. They have the gourmet style pizzas with light cheese and fancy toppings; I think they're more like flatbreads, but really yummy. Mushroom is awesome and so is the potato.

Next of my preferences, I'd say, is La Villa Pizza in New York. You may disagree pizza-wise, but remember I'm right on this (and also, everything's better in NY.). Their vegetale is crazy-veggie-insane. Tons of veggies. Lot's of garlic. There's not even room on the crust for too much cheese. Unfortunately, I don't know how this represents in NY Pizza terms; this guy doesn't even rank it. But it's become a standard for me whenever I visit.

Another new St. Louis pizza place, Onesto, is pretty good. The pizza is super wet and doughy--lots of sauce, lots and lots of garlic, big, fresh crust. But I think that it's best because of the atmosphere; despite an hour wait just to get a table, the restaurant is just really nice; people nice; wine nice; grassy area nice; neighborhood nice. Pizza nice, yes, but mostly just nice place for a bite.
Then there's the standard fast-food answer to gourmet pizza, California Pizza kitchen. For being in the mall, it's pretty OK. It sure beats Pizza Hut and Dominos! The mushrooms on this baby were awesome; but it was super super cheesy, which kinda did me in after a slice. Leftovers, however, leftovers!!

I don't know about other cities, but the newer upscale restaurants in STL are really into including pizzas on their menus lately: Revival, Koko, etc. It's just the thing to do, I suppose (mac-and-cheese, too). But here's my thought: yes, you can, and yes, it might be OK, or even good, but let's leave the pizza to the Pizzerias of the world and let the chefs cook up some other ingenious food creation. Right? I mean, if Iron Chef put every ingredient on pizza (squid-ink pizza, cod roe pizza, praying mantis pizza!!!!, etc.), then who'd watch? Not me. Ok I know that they do that on the American version of Iron Chef (shoot, even the secret ingredient one time was "pizza dough,") but still, good restaurants ought to try to fight that urge, branch out, get off the crust, folks!! That's what I say. And yes, the pizza at KOKO was pretty OK, but nothing like good old vegetale or Pizzeria Della Piazza. I digress...

Finally, if we're spanning coasts (and time), then we have to tour west for California-style. I have two that are opposite ends of the spectrum for CA-style: one overly cheesy Italian roasted veggie and one raw. Yep, raw. Made with wheat germ mold crust and cashew cheese. Both good, both a little shocking to the system for obviously different reasons, but still, both pizza.

Late night dining: addendum

Ok here's what you don't need at 4am: Sugar or a lottery ticket.

But what you DO need is a pizza. And nerds.

Yep.

vegan supper club: inaugural dinner

Vegan Supper Club began many moons ago when the cows were crying and the lambs were screaming and we were hungry. Something like that. Well, rather, the real story is that vegan cupcake friends wanted like minded individuals to dine with them, but also to do some of the cooking so they didn't have so much work to do. I think that's how it went. You'll have to ask them.

So the theme was "fall" and the hosts were serving butternut squash ravioli. I of course chimed in with "BRUSSELS SPROUTS!!!" and the others claimed soup and salad. Being the vegan cupcake friends, the hosts also provided dessert.

The first course came with spicy pumpkin peanut soup cooked by some friends (who also have a blog!!!). It was delicious!!!!!! The soup was not thick like you might think, but rather a nice, light, pumpkiny, peanuty, spicy, delicious soupy treat. They call it Thai; I called it Yum.

It was paired with host's famous bread:


Breadmaking seems so "old world." But it's so worth it; this ain't no Wonder bread. (I mean that in the best possible way!). (My brother also makes his own bread and pizza crust too.)

Next course was this amazing fall salad. It included greens, of course, but also apples, figs, candied walnuts, pepitas, radishes or turnips or something little and white (from their garden!) and I don't even know what else. Each bite revealed some new secret, rendering this salad something from the category 'delicious'; it's not hard to find a 'fall greens' salad, especially when it's fall. But this one was unusually delightful.

And then came the most fantastic raviolis you've ever experienced: they were not too soft and not too rubbery, but rather the perfect noodle consistency. I'm fairly well-versed at ravioli-making in particular and noodle-making in general, but these raviolis were so well crafted that I contemplated selling them. I mean, we're only blocks from the Hill!!


But here's the thing: the topping. You can't put a cream sauce on a vegan ravioli, and a red sauce will mask the delicious squashiness... so what's a girl to do?

It wasn't so so long ago that I tried my own hand at butternut squash raviolis. They were not for a vegan crowd, however, so when the recipe called for a "brown butter glaze, I delivered (actually, it was the butter crowd of my parents and co. so it was perfect). But the raviolis, as delicious and successful as I could have hoped, in the end, tasted like butter to me.














Vegan Supperclub Friends' raviolis, being vegan, were not coated in a thick butter sauce. On the contrary, they were topped only with a small dollop of caramelized onions. Wha? Who'd a thought? It was perfection. The sweetness and creaminess and tanginess of a caramelized onion complemented the sweet-yet-savory squash-filled little pasta pockets. I still dig the idea of a sage-brown-butter glaze, mostly on account of the sage, and the word glaze, which sounds so delicate, but next time maybe I'll try it with more sage, some Earth Balance, and a little caramelized onion action.

Anyway, I digress. this entree was accompanied by my first attempt at BS and the meal was completed with S'mores Vegan Cupcakes. I'm telling you this today, because VSC2 is forthcoming!!! Yum! Indian Delight!!!!