high dive

what to do with an endive? i usually encounter them in the grocery store, looking wan and sad in a small pile along side other less popular vegetables. but i've always liked the look of endive - smooth and sleek, like little white torpedoes with elegant green tips.

endive (a member of the daisy family, i just learned), have only really functioned for me heretofore as edible cups for dips and appetizers. and who doesn't love an edible cup? cones (for ice cream), taco shells, wontons - even tomatoes and cucumbers hollowed out can become edible vessels for dips and salads. but is this all the lonely endive is good for? relegated to a life of bland transport?

in the february issue of food & wine magazine, my eye was caught by a simple and genius mode of endive preparation, conceived by tory miller, chef at l'etoile in madison, wisconsin. the article itself was totally adorable, about how as a way to bust the seasonal boredom, chef miller and his restaurant staff play broom hockey and then eat amazing wintry meals together. the meal highlighted in f&w had a "winter white" theme. when i saw the technique for braising endives in gin and orange juice, i wrote right on the magazine page in an excited scrawl "want to try this!" and stalked my neighborhood grocery stores until i found endives that seemed acceptable. perhaps a bit over zealous, i also splurged on high quality, local gin and organic fresh oranges.

there are very few dishes that i ever have, or ever will, refer to as "gorgeous." or "sensuous" or "voluptuous," or any of those over wrought food writer words that seem to convey more the party in your pants than the one in your mouth. and so, i struggle to find a way to describe this vegetable side that doesn't rely on those silly tropes. i will just say, before sharing this gem of a recipe: while eating the finished dish, i sat alone in my kitchen, uncontrollably exclaiming out loud to the universe, "holy shit, this is so GOOD!" it may be one of the best things i've ever made. the caramelized, tender leaves of the endives, dry juniper berry zing of the gin, and tart sugars of the orange juice are fast friends. however, the finishing sauce is what really takes this to a gourmet level, and is a sophisticated, awesome technique i am sure i'll employ a thousand times to come.

Gin & Juice Braised Endives

adapted from the February 2011 issue of Food & Wine magazine

~serves two as a side, or one hungry person who doesn't want to share~

~takes 30 minutes~

ingredients:

1 tblsp extra-virgin olive oil

5 belgian endives, halved lenghtwise

1/4 cup good quality gin

salt & pepper

1/2 cup (maybe a little less) fresh orange juice

2 tablespoons margarine or butter

2 tablespoons agave nectar, brown rice syrup, or honey

1 scallion, white and light green parts only, sliced (optional)

1 tablespoon roasted pumpkin seeds (optional)

balsamic vinegar, for drizzling

- heat the oil in a large, non-stick or well seasoned cast iron skillet. add the endive halves, cut side down, and cook over medium heat until nicely browned, about 5 minutes.

- slowly pour the gin over the pan and let cook until reduced by half. flip the endives over, season with salt and pepper (less salt if you plan on using margarine later), and add the OJ.

- lower the heat and cover. cook for about 15 minutes, turning the endives back over one time, about 10 minutes through.

- once the endives are tender, transfer them to a plate using a slotted spoon. add the margarine or butter to the remaining liquid in the plan, then swirl in the agave or honey. bring this radiant sauce to a quick boil, stirring gently with a spatula. when it's nice and syrupy (only about 2 minutes are needed), season with more pepper. this makes your kitchen smell amazing.

- pour the sauce over the endives, and garnish with the scallion and pepitas. i didn't have either of these things on hand, and trust me, it did not matter one bit.

- drizzle the plate with a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar, and serve.

for even further decadence, enjoy this dish with an ice cold gin martini

try to take your time with this heady, wonderful dish. your impulse will be to inhale them all at once in a fit of pleasure, but it's really worth it to savor each small bite, letting all the distinct but harmonious flavors and textures dance through your mind.

love,

emily

truffle shuffle

always the stuff of epicurean lore, i've only ever seen fresh truffles from afar, sitting preciously under glass in a fancy market. the price tag made me gasp for air and i assumed the closest i would ever really get was the lovely bottle of truffle-infused oil that my friend larissa gave me for my last birthday. i will admit - a bit of the stuff drizzled upon some soup or to finish a risotto adds a wondrous, luxurious earthy flavor that's made a believer of me. ryan claims that truffles don't really have much flavor, and are just ghastly expensive hype restaurants use to wow their jaded customers. it is hard to tell with rare things sometimes if they truly are special and worth their exorbitant prices to attain. is it all just a matter of suspended belief on the part of consumers and the crafty marketing of retailers who pander to foodies? or is it real?

despite this philosophical quandary, it is true that a small container of real black truffles (1 oz, to be exact) lives in the bottom of our fridge as i write this. they are nesting in arborio rice, like three wrinkly turds. see?

this way, the rice absorbs some of the flavor for future use!

sis lauren brought some home from her new gig at one of philadelphia's finest food retailers, an extraordinary splurge, even with a 20% discount. so, like true kitchen royalty, for the past week we've been sprinkling and shaving truffles, like so many flakes of gold, on all kinds of unsuspecting and humble dishes: root vegetable soup, pizzas and pastas. and here goes nothing: the hype is real. these bizarre hunks of fungus make shit taste just amazing.

truffles work well, apparently, with simple clean flavors and only the smallest amount of truffle is needed to impart a whopping amount of its flavor. so we've truffed and truffed, and still have so much left. anyone have ideas about how to best use the remainder?

and, as a quick aside, i must attend to one important matter: it is widely known that the majority of wild truffles are sniffed out by trained dogs and pigs. to some very strict animal righters, this might not make them really vegan because of the animal labor involved. while i respect that take on things, it is not the one i subscribe to right now. i'm ok with the truffles labor industry, or at least, i can let it go. in fact, one of the articles i was reading earlier about truffles mentioned that many times, when the pigs find the truffles, they immediately eat them! oh, just imagine a disgruntled frenchmen throwing his cap to the ground and cursing "merde!" at the deliriously happy pig, chomping on its prize.

and finally, if you ever find yourself with your own little truffle cache, you simply must use some in this very seasonal soup, from my girl sally schneider's comfort repertoire.

Root Vegetable Crema
adapted from a new way to cook by sally schneider (adapted from a chef at chez panisse)

ingredients:

2 teaspoons fat (oil, margarine, butter)
1 medium potato, i just can't get enough yukon gold
1 small celery root, peeled and finely diced (3/4 cup)
1 medium leek, or one small onion, sliced (just the white part if using a leek)
2 small parsnips, finely sliced (1/2 - 2/3 cup)
2 - 4 garlic cloves
1 sprig fresh thyme, or a healthy pinch of dried thyme
a pinch salt (about 1/4 tsp)
a pinch sugar
2/3 cup water
3 cups broth, preferably homemade vegetable stock
freshly ground pepper, white pepper if you have it
tiny pinch of nutmeg
1/4 cup soy creamer, or real cream if you cook with dairy (optional)
part or all of a fresh black truffle, pounded into a paste with a mortar & pestle, or a drizzle of truffle oil

- heat the fat in a medium or large saucepan over medium heat. add all the ingredients down to water (not the broth) and bring to a simmer.

- cover and cook for 15 minutes, until most of the water has evaporated.

- add the stock, bring back to a simmer, re-cover and cover for another 15 minutes, until all the veggies are soft.

- puree with your immersion blender. don't stop until it's really, really smooth. or, if you are without, carefully puree the soup in batches in a food processor or blender. if you want to go the extra mile, you can strain the soup back into the pot for a more dramatically creamy texture.

- season to taste with salt, pepper and nutmeg. careful with the nutmeg - too much will really overpower the soup. add the soy creamer, and then the pounded truffle paste and stir until completely mixed into the soup.

- finito! a perfect winter soup in, like, 40 minutes.

love,
emily

Distrit-WHOA

pretty recently, emily and i got all gussied up and headed over to jose garces' distrito, in university city. for some reason, i've always had a secret little flame of curiosity for this restaurant. i know of garces' other restaurants, tinto and amada, and neither ever really piqued my interest like distrito did. and let's be honest, i've never actually been to a tapas restaurant before, despite my many discussions of "how great tapas are", and that didn't help keep the curiosity fire at a low burn either.

a friend from work mentioned their 5 course tasting menu for $55 (i was more interested in the 3 courses for $35 myself) and i thought, "hey, that's not as insanely outrageously expensive as i thought it would be!" and then i got some birthday money from my dad, specifically to be used for taking myself and emily out to dinner (does my family know what i like or what?) and then it all just came together. i decided to call distrito to inquire if they wouldn't possibly mind whipping up a little something special for us, instead of just making us ask for 'no queso' and still pay the $10 price tag for a bowl of guac? the hostess/receptionist was waaaaaaay nice and accommodating and after a short while, our reservation was set for tuesday at 8 and a vegan tasting menu would await. we had no idea what we were in for.

(see this menu? we didn't need it, they brought us everything all special-like.)

the first thing i should point out is that the decor of this place is OOC (out of control). gold, bright pink, neon green, yellow, etc. our table top was gold glitter and the menu was white and hot pink. my eyes hurt a little bit, but my tummy was excited and that emotion outweighed all others. our waiter came over to take our order, at which point i mentioned the "call ahead" we had done and he promptly responded "ah yes, the chef has something special prepared for you all". WOOOO! we ordered margaritas (emily, the watermelon, i, the mango) and they were......the best margaritas i ever had. after looking at the menu just for fun, our first course came out.

course #1: traditional guacamole with homemade tortilla chips, smoked salsa roja and salsa verde and a chopped mixed salad with tortilla strips on top. firstly, the salsa verde literally tasted green. i don't know what was in it, but if green is an ingredient with a taste, it was in here. (this is a good thing, people). secondly, we all know how much i love avocados (remember?) and this was THE BEST guacamole i've ever had. hands down. it was so creamy it felt like my tongue was getting a massage. oh and it tasted good, too. the salad had a cumin-lime vinaigrette, cherry tomatoes, romaine lettuce, walnuts, orange segments and a lot of other things that tasted awesome. first course RULED!

the bowls were real fancy too!

course #2: this is where things took a turn for the.....BETTER. because that is when they delivered this baby to our table:

that beautiful vibrant (well, in real life at least) baby is called a "huarache" which is, according to wikipedia "a popular Mexican dish consisting of an oblong, fried masa base, with a variety of toppings. The name "Huarache" is derived from the shape of the masa, similar to the popular sandals of the same name." ok, laymen, it's a grilled flatbread pizza thing but ours had vegetable toppings and no cheese and no meat. what it did have was a cilantro-yucca puree topped with cherry tomatoes, jicama, radish and micro-cilantro. yes, that means tiny little microgreens of cilantro, before they are full grown sprigs. adorable and delicious. this was emily's favorite dish of the night. it was clean and pure with bold fresh flavors that really mingled nicely with the smokey crunchiness of the flatbread. alongside this spotlight stealer was a melon salad with three different kinds of melons, cucumber, yucca, pepitas, and a lime dressing with a dollop of lime sorbetto on top. this was really delicious and fresh, a palate cleanser of sorts but with no real cleansing properties, as it had some crazy awesome taste profiles going on, as well as the juicy ripe melon versus the salty pepita texture battle that won over my taste buds in a second flat. the real beauty of this dish was the uniformity of the diced ingredients. emily and i honestly marveled at the chef's precision in cutting.

look at those cubes, people!

not only was the waiter checking on us at just a perfect amount of "constantly" but it was between course 2 and 3 that the CHEF came out to our table to check on everything and say what's up. i was a bit nervous to be in the presence of such an open minded culinary master but dude was totally chill and it wasn't a big deal at all. he told us he was a vegan in college for four years and was actually pretty psyched to make this meal for us, which ruled because we were kind of nervous he would begrudgingly make us three courses of salad and cucumber soup. nay! he understood veganness all well and good. he told us he was going to buy some special ingredients except that no one reminded him of our reservation until 4pm that day and he had been working on our meal with just the kitchen ingredients ever since! bravo, sir!

before the third course, our waiter came out to inform us that "your night just keeps getting better!" and said that because the cost of ingredients for our meal was so low, we would only be charged $25 per person instead of the normal $35. wha-wha-whaaaat? passing on savings to the customer in the restaurant industry? that's kind of unheard of and em and i giddily and happily cheersed the glasses of our second drinks together. we totally rule!

course #3: this wins the prize for most adorable course which not coincidentally is why it was my favorite dish. one enchilada per person in a teeeeny tiny cast iron skillet, as well as two more tiny cast iron pots - one of corn and the other of black beans.

so tiny, so delicious. the enchilada was topped with some pickled jalapenos, radish and cherry tomatoes and filled with a yucca mash and smoky mushrooms. do you notice how the ingredients seem to repeat a lot? we did, too, but we DIDN'T CARE AT ALL. we knew the chef was working within the confines of his kitchen and we also actually really enjoyed the absence of tofu or seitan which really just let the vegetables shine through as they should: fresh and clean. the waiter told us that normally the corn dish would have mayonnaise and cheese mixed in. ours was straight up corn and onions with some chili powder and tasted like sunshine. the beans were your typical black beans simmered to perfect softness topped with some veggies. i thought of it as the entree but i guess with tapas everything is tiny and there aren't really entrees in the traditional sense. but these were tiny amounts of entree-like foods. i just want to keep talking about how tiny they were, ok? i mean look at that damn pot!

dessert: the waiter told us we'd be receiving a selection of sorbettos for dessert (not as exciting to either of us, because em works at capogiro and eats it all the time, and i go in for free samples all the time) but soon after came back to tell us never mind on the sorbet, the chef has something special prepared. and special it was! grapefruit brulee! a grapefruit cut in half, sprinkled with sugar and then torched till the sugar caramelized. topped with a scoop of coconut sorbet, this was the perfect ending to our meal. mostly because i don't think i could have eaten anything more substantial, but it was also just really amazing and wonderful as a dish in and of itself.

i think it was actually this bright

we then sat back, bellies full, but not too full and marvelled at what had just happened. while we were marvelling, the chef came out AGAIN to make sure everything was ok. yes, it sure fuckin was, sir. we thanked him profusely and then he won our hearts by saying, "thank you for the opportunity."

let's recap: funky over-the-top but fun interior, super not-annoyingly friendly wait staff, open-minded chef who accommodated our request - if we had stopped there and the food was so-so, i still would have given this place props. but then, THEN they had to go and blow us away with the food and THEN they had to give it to us for cheaper than usual. of course they told us to come back (and bring friends!, they said), and of course, we will.