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

You Bore Me...

Let’s just say that I went on a blind date with – I don’t want to name names, so we’ll call it “Schmanco” – and let’s just say that I’m not that into it. If you want, I’ll say it’s me, not you, but...

Ok you lost me at cheesy poofs, if I’m being honest. Cheesy poofs are what they are – flour, salt, egg, gruyere. Not earth shattering, ok, but I’ve said before and I’ll say again, I’magirlthatlikestoknowwhatI’meating. But I didn’t need to know this. Was it really necessary to go on and on? You may call them “gougeres,” but I call them… (yawn). Wait – what was I saying?

Oof and then I have to say, really? In mixed company? You’re going to pull that out? Tomato salad with cucumbers. Should be a safe bet for any situation. But you throw down a fistful of salt and, what should have been a rather innocuous experience turned, well, shocking, to be honest.

I let it go. I mean, we don’t even know each other. Things can be awkward at first, misunderstandings, whatever. I can get over it. But after three long hours of what was simply uninteresting at best and really, what was becoming rather tedious, you try to round the bases with julienned squash in a red sauce? This is not pasta. If you’re trying to impress a vegan, you do realize we eat grains, right? Don’t tell me your favorite activity is “cooking vegetarian” just to impress me. Uh-huh - and I read comic books. Religiously. Right. I hate an ass kisser and frankly, “Schmanco,” we both know who you are. It’s not sexy to pretend.

I didn’t want to have to say these things, but you pressed the issue. Maybe this is why you’re alone on the weekends so often. Take up a hobby; experiment; educate yourself. I have no hard feelings, but, I’m not going to say “let’s be friends.” I have lots of friends. Thanks anyway.

secret lovers

Garlic and I have had words before.

It's not that I don't respect his lingering scent or his strong presence - I mean, I dig that in a potential partner. But the three-day garlic hangover after he's long gone, the middle-of-the-night garlic hot flashes, the taste of him on your lips well after you know he's moved on.... Those kind of things can haunt a woman. And I'm not into suffering.

But roasted garlic, that's another story. Whole clove, oven-roasted, tiny forks to remove the melty goodness and spread it on the toasted olive bread, that's my kind of lover. Steamy but not overpowering; complex, yet also gentle. A perfect presentation of in-the-moment passion without the long-felt heartbreak.

Cardwells' Mediterranean plate is a long-standing tradition with chunks of feta, toasted olive bread, dolmades, rotating salads like tabbouleh or cous cous or ratatouille, and of course, the roasted garlic.

Don't tell though - I don't want him to get any ideas.

life lessons.... cheese plate edition

Friend and I have started a list of life no-nos. It's more or less a compilation of general rules to be followed by the general public.

1. No chewing gum with your mouth open. just don't do it. Smack is whack.

2. No chicken salad in class. Don't bring it and eat it with crackers. This also applies to tuna salad, egg salad, ham loaf, corned beef hash, and anything else made by injecting recognizable edible items into jello moulds.

3. Never tell a person that you will "shoot them an email." Emails are not shot, no matter how "Wall Street" you think you are, they are "sent."

4. The four-minute hip hop sex ballad on your voice mail before the message begins? Really? I mean really?

And I would now add 5. Don't slice the cheese on a cheese plate; it's meant to be chunky. You have to use nuts. You must include dried fruits. And don't forget the freaking bread.

Modesto: you made a good effort with the honey-slathered walnuts and grapes; but your american-cheese-like slices were a huge turn off. Massive.

And 33, you're a wine bar; get with the program. 4 cheeses is great! But you gotta at least gimme a cracker, darnit.

Everyone, take some life lessons from your wiser counterparts:

* * *

Mosaic in STL:

Ok not great photos - but there are several chunks of cheese, nuts, a little shot glass full of aged reduced balsamic, grapes, garlicky crostinis, watermelon slice. The works! And the cheese is standing upright. How often do you see that?! Awesome.

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Niche in STL

I've had the pleasure of enjoying a cheese plate at Niche on three occasions. They rotate their cheeses frequently, as well as the spread (quince paste? apple dill compote? raspberry rhubarb jelly?), and always accompany with house-toasted crostini and candied nuts. Fabulous.

* * *

In Chicago, some wine bar across the street from Union Park on the green line.

This one rocked - multiple bread choices, tons of dried fruit, including figs!, goat cheese, brie, mancheygo, and more, nuts, apples, pears. Oh my. This may very well be the best cheese plate I've ever had. Even better with the $19 glass of wine (I am not kidding). Not sure I get the onion roll, but at least this plate diversified.

* * *

Sashas in STL:

First, the cheese comes on a slab of marble. That's just classy. Second, you get an abundance of cheeses, breads, nuts, and fruits. And they are named charming titles like "French Tickler" and "Euro Trash." Ok not so clever... but better than not having a cheese plate at all, really. Isn't it?

Garlicky homemade crostini, walnuts, dried cranberries, mancheygo, mahon, some sort of goat's milk cheese, and the yummiest of yummies, the caramelly delicious Geitost! Darn good. Good wine too.

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Cardwells in STL

Now they are most accomplished in the Mediterranean-plate arena (see coming post "secret lovers"), but they are nevertheless adept at putting together a decent cheese plate. Especially given their West County locale! (eegads)

Note the cube of quince paste and buttery toasted olive bread.... yum!

* * *

RL in Chicago (for those not in the know, that's the Ralph Lauren bar near Mich Ave.)

So it's in a haze; that doesn't change it's goodness. Everything's better name-brand, too, right? (I wonder what a Louis Vuitton cheese plate would look like?! oh my!)

* * *

The secret? chunks of good, if not rare, cheese.

Salted/roasted/sweetened/candied nuts

Fruits - dried and otherwise.

Jellies and pastes - such as quince paste (Cardwells!) or apple dill jelly (niche!).

* * *

There's a method; a formula. Don't mess with success. Take it from a near-vegan cheese plate connoisseur!!!

Things you NEVER want to see

1) mastodon phalluses on your plate. I dig it, Agave, you're trying to be all vegetarian and rice-bally and stuff, and I do appreciate your meat-free entree, but this was horrible. Hideous. I can't even tell you. I think Poblanos ‘Estilo RELLENO’ must mean something terrifying in Spanish.

2) last night's "dinner" memorialized in a cartoon. Uncanny, right?

3) ribs in the bathroom. R I B S I N T H E B A T H R O O M!

raw blog

I like the idea of raw, I really do. I know that it's healthy for you (despite my father trying to convince me that NOT cooking food zaps its enzymes), I know this. I have considered embracing a raw lifestyle, I have. I have pored over the pages of this cookbook, and I even registered for a vegetable dehydrator for my big event that begins with a W and ends with an ING, I did. But, for now, I'm still dabbling with the vegan thing; once cheese and I are on the skids permanently, maybe the transition to raw will be the inevitable next step. We'll see.

So for the moment, my raw lifestyle exists only in short bursts; usually when I'm traveling, because the one and only lonely raw restaurant in STL closed a while back. So, when I'm in NY, I hit PURE Food and Wine. This place is the one featured on SATC. I think it was the one where Samantha met Smith. Or at least that's the rumor. Or at least that's what New Yorkers let Midwesterners believe when they come visit, so they have a story to tell back home. (Remind me to tell you of the time I meet the Doog in NY... he's no MD, let me tell you!!).

The thing about raw is that it looks like "normal" food (whatever "normal" is). It's not some new invention concocted that highlights the food's natural raw beauty; nope, it's lasagna, pizza, tamales, risotto, etc. But the weird thing is that it's not just "normal" food uncooked (or kept under 118 degrees); rather, it's all kinds of unusual ingredients used to make food that resembles rice (which requires serious cooking), cheese (which is from an animal), etc. Hence, cashew cream, celeriac risotto, sprouted wheat crackers, and the like.

So at PURE, that's what we had--regular old run-of-the-mill food made from wacky ingredients and kinda room temperature. Here goes:

Caesar Salad with Pignoli Parmesan and Nori: Spicy Thai lettuce wraps with pea shoots, mango, cabbage, and a tamarind chile sauce:

Marinated shitake, avocado, ginger, and cucumber "sushi":

Creamy cauliflower samosas with banana tamarind sauce and mango chutney:

Chanterelle mushroom and Kalamata olive ravioli in macadamia nut cream:

White corn tamales with raw cacao mole and marinated mushrooms in salsa verde:

Wild mushroom and asparagus En Papillote in celeriac cream:And last but not least, Zucchini and Roma tomato lasagna with a basil-pistachio pesto and pignoli ricotta:

Holy zucchini!

So here's the thing, though. These dishes are amazing; they look stunning on the plate, all vegetably and fresh, and they taste incredible. It might not taste like Grandma's cheesy Ragu lasagna, but you get the idea--it's kinda "cheesy," it's tomato-y, the zucchinis are shaped like noodles. And it's good, it's way flavorful. It's fresh. It's healthy........

But I just can't commit to that right now. For the moment, I'll keep my rawness for special occasions or for when I need to detox. I'll still cook my beans til they're done. And in the mean time, in an attempt to eschew the animal products and embrace the earth, I'm on the hunt for yet another GREAT VEGAN BAG.

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.