I’m not dead, just buried under moving boxes

Hello, all! When I last posted, Chef and I were packing for a move to south Florida. For those of you who’ve been clenching your butt cheeks in anticipation of what happened, relax, we made it! For those of you who weren’t, maybe you should have. I imagine tightening your tuckus for two months straight would leave your rump quarter-bouncing beach ready.

Speaking of which, this is across the street from our new place:

In other news, Chef is working on the new restaurant, and I found a job in less than a week! (Insert Arsenio Hall woo-woo-woo.) But the downside of that is that I don’t have a lot of time to cook. However, we have been eating our way through south Florida. Some highlights:

Pubbelly

Dumplings from Pubbelly (from pubbelly.com)

This Miami Beach restaurant describes itself as a “gastropub” because they’ve got the laid-back feel of a tavern but the chef-driven menu of a finer dining establishment. Both are true. If you are lucky enough to walk by and see an open seat inside, take it. Their menu offers a little but of everything, from fried chicken with an Asian twist –kimchee and mustard miso — to udon noodles with an Italian one — carbonara style with peas, bacon and a slow-poached egg.

Barceloneta

A perfect snack at Barceloneta (from barcelonetarestaurant.com)

Right next door and also part of the Pubbelly family is Barceloneta. Like the name implies, the menu features Spanish small-plates and mucho vino. But if I were you, I would start with one of their specialty cocktails. Pero por favor, pace yourself because they go down like water. A lot of the ingredients didn’t seem like they would work together — langoustines with garlic and chocolate? — but after sampling almost the entire menu, I’d say just go for it. Although you can clearly discern each component, no ingredient overpowers the other.

Buccan

Hamachi tiradito at Buccan (from buccanpalmbeach.com)

When I grow up, I want to be a regular at Buccan. This of course means I want to be a well-dressed woman who’s had some some work done and owns an ocean-front mansion in Palm Beach. Aside from fabulous people-watching, Buccan offers a rotating menu of “progressive American” small plates. Which I think just means food stolen from another culture because their menu has a lot of Asian and Latin ingredients. That being said, the food is worth the drive. My one complaint, however: what the hell is a piece of romaine doing in a conch ceviche?

Jojo’s Tacos

Assortment of tacos from Jojo's (from jojostacos.com)

This is a causal joint down the street from our place. The chef always has a rotating menu of specials like Lick Me (beef tongue) and Mahi stew flavored with squid ink alongside his regular menu of tacos. He is such a master at combining flavors and using the best ingredients that you probably won’t even notice these little taste explosions are served in a store-bought tortilla unless you’re a picky Latina who considers it blasphemy to not make your own. But I will forgive this sin in exchange for a plate of Lick Me.

Cafe Martorano

Eggplant stack at Cafe Martorano (from cafemartorano.com)

Do me a favor and click on the link above. One look at the homepage and you’ll know exactly what kind of place this is. But even so, I will suffer through club music, strobe lights and guidos hitting on me for their grilled octopus and baked clams. They also claim to be home of the world famous meatball. If my ears ever stop ringing from our last visit, I’ll let you know if this is true.

Of all the restaurants we’ve been to in Miami, Fort Lauderdale and the surrounding cities, I can count those worth mentioning on one hand. I’m hoping my visits to db Bistro Moderne and JG Grill turn out better than those to Sushisamba and Setai: everything at Sushisamba was drenched in acid, and the paneer and pork belly at Setai were awful. Though, I’d happily go back to both for drinks. But that can be said for every place we visited.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s why everyone here looks so damn good. No one eats, they just drink.

P.S. — MD loves her new beach life. She doesn’t shiver anymore and spends the majority of her time outside or wishing she were outside:

I only wish Linus could have lived long enough to retire in Florida. RIP, the sweetest Rottweiler this Earth has ever seen.

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Lesson 13: The Only Thing You Need to Pack for a Move

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Current home: Raleigh, NC

When you live in one city for several years, you accumulate a lot of stuff. Vintage clothes you purchased for a Halloween costume years ago; ticket stubs and posters from your favorite shows; gag gifts that are inside jokes with friends — visual memories of the fun times you’ve had.

It’s easy to pack these odds and ends into a box and set them up again in the same city and even state, but how do you move them across the country? Easy! You don’t. Whether you’re re-locating to start a new job, pursue a new relationship or just to get away, there’s only one thing you need to pack: your laptop.

Technology has made it impossible to forget anything. All your proudest and most embarrassing moments are just a Google search away from being discovered. But that being said, everyone and their mother (literally) is on Twitter or Facebook, so they’re a free and fast way to keep in touch. But be careful what you post. No one cares that you had a great breakfast much less wants to see a blurry picture of it, but they will care that you got a promotion or a new dog. (But if you really must tell everyone about your wonderful breakfast, WordPress is a good blogging tool.) Also keep in mind the frequency of your posts. Try to limit it to once a day Monday-Friday around noon since mornings are usually spent catching up on what happened overnight.

Another great tool for digitally archiving your past and present is 1000memories.com. Simply scan your photos and they’re instantly viewable by family and friends in a different state. There’s even a free ShoeBox iPhone app that lets you scan photos from your phone. Two great ways to chat “in person” are Skype and Qik Video. The latter is my favorite because you can record things on your phone and send them as video messages that can be viewed anytime, which is especially convenient if you’re in a different time zone.

With all the ways technology helps us document our lives, there’s no need to lug your memorabilia from state to state. Take pictures of Halloween parties and concerts you attend, post inside jokes on your friend’s Facebook wall. And hey, even if your computer crashes, the memories will always be in your heart.

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Soon-to-be home: Ft. Lauderdale, FL

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Lesson 12: Vinaigrette

While Chef is in Florida, I’m in charge of my own dinners. This means, of course, that I’ve been eating nothing but salads topped with a grilled protein. Though, he did leave me with The Making of a Cook by Madeleine Kamman — whom he’s cooked with — to keep me busy while he’s chilling in the same hotel as Dennis Rodman. (That doesn’t say much about the hotel they were given; Rodman is probably so broke these days he can’t afford to color his hair.)

This is one of those cookbooks that reads like a book, which I love. And Kamman gives you the history of most recipes as well as the science behind ingredients reacting the way they do. It’s a great source of information and inspiration.

I decided to follow her recipe for vinaigrette because it sounds easy:

One paragraph, three ingredients. See? Easy!

In explaining the ingredients, Kamman says, “A dressing made with olive oil tastes better when the acid ingredient is lemon or lime juice.” It’s like she knew I’m out of vinegar & can’t hobble to the store to get more with a broken foot!

I followed her measurements exactly: 1/3 cup acid (lemon juice), 2/3 cup oil (olive), and 1 egg. So far, so good. It looked like vinaigrette.

The next part is where I lost her. She writes, “Combine the seasonings of your dressing to your heart’s content.”

How the hell am I supposed to know what seasonings make my heart happy? Help me out here, woman! While she offers tips, like steeping dried herbs in the vinegar and adding fresh ones into the already-mixed dressing, she doesn’t suggest which herbs to use or how much.

I’ve seen Chef whip together vinaigrette in seconds, so I figured it can’t be that hard. I scoured the fridge and found what looked like fresh herbs. Luckily, a quick Google search gave me this herb-for-dummies chart to help me identify them:

Thank you, epicurious.com. 1. cilantro, 2. mint, 3. parsley, 4. dill, 5. basil, 6. oregano, 7. rosemary, 8. chive, 9. sage, 10. savory, 11. thyme, 12. tarragon. 13. marjoram.

According to this, we had cilantro, parsley, dill, and basil. Sounds good to me. Following her advice, I added a bunch of the finely chopped herbs to my acid, oil and egg mixture. It looked beautiful!

It tasted terrible. I added salt and pepper, which helped a bit, but it needed something else. The book offered me no “how to save a bland vinaigrette” tips, so I just covered it and put it in the fridge for Chef to fix when he comes back home.

I’m sure I could have done it myself with another Google search, but I’ve been spoiled with one-on-one cooking lessons from Chef. The time we spend cooking and eating together has  been the best part of my day — and life — for the past year. So, you can see why I gave up on my vinaigrette; cooking without him is as sad as getting instruction from the internet.

P.S. Chef took the job in Florida. I don’t have any specific details, just that WE’RE MOVING! Hurry up and heal foot; I need to start working on my beach body.

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Lesson 11: Steak

It’s been so long since I’ve written a post you’d think I broke my hand and not my foot. If only! My broken wrist was a breeze compared to this broken metatarsal. I may not have been able to dress myself properly with a bum hand, but even with a twisted sports bra and my shorts on inside out, I could still go running. I’ve gone from running seven miles a day to barely walking seven feet. But things could be worse. And at least my black boot goes with everything:

Good thing boots are in season for winter.

Aside from garnering sympathy, the boot also gets me A MOTORIZED CART AT COSTCO:

Costco carts should be bigger. This was barely big enough for my bubbly.

You haven’t lived until you’ve driven a cart around Costco shouting, “Tell me or I swear I will crash this cart into this chocolate display!” (I’m sure Chef thinks otherwise, judging by his distancing himself from me in the store.)

Let me tell you a secret: I love Costco. Nothing says America to me like jars of mayonnaise the size of a small child & cuts of meat as big as a dining room table. Even as an adult, I still measure myself against boxes and bags of this and that and laugh at how small I am in comparison.

Chef is going out of town, so we stocked up on food I can make with my limited mobility. Among the purchases was something as American as bulk-stores — steak. (Costco has stepped up its quality in recent years so if you’ve never thought to buy meat from there, think again.)

NY Strip

Now, there are plenty ways to flavor and cook steak. I don’t eat red meat often, but when I do, I want maximum meat flavor, which means minimal seasoning. There are all kinds of marinades out there, but as with most things, the best ones are simply prepared and use fresh ingredients. Here are two quick and easy versions using a fat, an acid and flavorings I usually have in the pantry or fridge:

(This was for 2 steaks.)

Option 1:
juice from 1 lime
2-3 cloves garlic, finely minced
3-4 splashes Worcestershire sauce
drizzle of olive oil
salt
pepper

Option 2:
fresh thyme, chopped
fresh cilantro, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 tbsp cider vinegar
2 tbsp olive oil
salt
pepper

Rub the marinade into the meat and let it sit in the fridge for at least 30 minutes before throwing it on the grill. I prefer mine mid-rare, but to each his or her own. Once it’s cooked to your desired temperature, let it sit before slicing and serving.

Grilling a big piece of meat is ideal for people with a broken foot whose significant other is leaving them for a while because you can eat the leftovers for days, in different ways. Want Asian? Make a nam tok salad:

Chef’s nam tok. Photo by Jay Winfrey, flickr.com/photos/jaywinfrey.

Nam tok is Thai for “waterfall,” and the dish is called nam tok because the meat is cooked rare to mid-rare, meaning it’s still bloody, or watery. Chef makes his salad version with tatsoi, an Asian green that has a bit of a bite. You can use anything you’d like, but to continue the Asian flavor try mint, shallots, shaved papaya, and fried garlic flakes in a Thai chili-lime vinaigrette.

Feeling fiesta-ish? Make carne asada tacos with homemade salsa and tortillas:

Don’t have the energy to cook or wash dishes because you’re sad that you’re all alone? Eat the cold meat over the sink and drown your sorrows in tequila.

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The Five People You Meet at the Host Stand

I’ve hosted on and off at several restaurants for the past three years. Whether I was working at an upscale small plates place or a casual BBQ joint, greeting and seating billionaires or bumpkins, the clientele could all be divided into five categories at the host stand:

1. Peace Signers
These people don’t acknowledge you with a verbal greeting, let alone a smile. They’ll walk up tight-lipped, holding up two fingers like somehow hostesses the world over know that means “Good evening. There will be two of us for dinner.” They probably won’t talk the entire meal unless it’s to give their order. Or if they’re businessmen, their conversation is so important they can’t break to ask for a table. Usually these are the same guys who don’t put down their sandwich the entire meal. They’ll just hold it in one hand while they shovel fries into their mouth with the other.

Thank goodness for stock photos. dreamstime.com

2. No Reservation, We’ll Wait for a Booth
Usually a first date where the guy is trying to impress the girl. Rather than call ahead and make a reservation, he and his cologne will casually stroll over to the host stand and tell you that he and this lovely lady — look at her, you think she’s lovely, right? — are going to have drinks at the bar, but to save them a table because they’ll want to sit in the main dining room eventually. An hour and two fruity martinis later, you’ll walk them to their table where they will sit, fidget with the place settings, frown, and ask for a booth. Even though there are no booths available and the restaurant is at full capacity. So you get the joy of starting the whole process over again with them and re-setting the silver and linens they messed up.

Clearly for a 2-top. Seven Restaurant and Bar in LA, la.eater.com

3. Peak-Hour Inquisitors
It’s 8 p.m. and they just want to take a look at your menu. Find out what vegetarian and gluten-free options you have. Ooh, and can they sub this for that? What’s this ethnic word mean? Do you know that because you are from that ethnic place? On second thought, they’re going to try someplace else.

Note: picture chosen for situation, not style. tablecheck.com

4. Saturday Night Large Party Stragglers
Generally a birthday/bachelor/bachelorette party that will be arriving in a party bus. You’ll know this because they’ll tell you when you’re taking their reservation. These people roll hard. So hard they lose track of time and forget they have a reservation. Don’t worry; they always show up. Maybe only two at a time, and maybe never the full 24-top, but over the course of the night, they’ll show up. You’ll know who they are because they’ll come in on their cell phones, wander around the dining room, then come back to the host stand to ask where the so-and-so party is.

I’m sure there’s a full bar and bowling alley in there. uscoachwayslimousine.com

5. Women
Look, ladies, no one is a bigger feminist than I. I even went to an all-girls college, for crying out loud. But when you come in as a group, the majority of you are rude. You walk by the host stand without so much as a smile; you bitch about sitting by the window, you complain about being too close to the kitchen. You want your sauce on the side and your drinks skinny. You talk while servers are explaining specials, and you seat yourselves in such a way it’s impossible for anyone to get around you. And the biggest shame, you’re notoriously bad tippers. I’m sure you’re a delight at home and at work. Please be that way in a restaurant.

I googled “group of women laughing” to get this. butterandwhiskey.com

That last line goes for all of you.

Note: This post is meant to be comical. The views expressed in this post are solely those of the Novice, a former hostess, and not the Chef’s or her previous employers’. 

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Lesson 10: Looking Ahead

When I was in 7th grade, our biggest project was to write our biographies. We had to talk about our birth, childhood, and yet-to-be-determined Futures. I was a serious, overly-anxious 12-year-old, so aside from doing a stand-up routine in front of the entire school, this was the worst project imaginable. I didn’t know what I wanted for dinner that night, let alone what I wanted to be when I “grew up.”

So, I decided on something that sounded safe and attainable: “By the time I am 30, I will be a married doctor who has two children and drives a red convertible.” Kids are dumb. And I don’t mean that in a bad way; most have no solid idea where babies come from at that age, so you can’t really expect them to think about life’s obstacles when setting goals.

Anyway, here we are, the last day of 2011, and I have achieved zero of the goals I wrote for myself 15 years ago. This would have killed former me. She would have told herself, “It isn’t too late; you still have three years before you’re 30!” But old me was a chump. She spent so much time worrying about all the things she hadn’t done that she couldn’t see all the things she had.

My transition into adulthood hasn’t been easy. I’ve spent the past two years trying to correct the series of mistakes that was my life from 18-25. But despite that, I am happy. I’ve learned the difference between friends and people with whom you drink. I’ve replaced dead-end relationships with a healthy, loving one. And most importantly, I see all the sadness and stress I’ve brought my family and am working on bringing them joy and pride.

If I continue to focus on what I have instead of what I lack, 2012 will be my best year yet. I’ll toast to that.

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Lesson 9: Bœuf Chasseur

What do I love? Tomatoes!

What do I love more? When they’re on sale! But there seems to be a rule that when you buy a bounty of fresh fruit and vegetables, you’ll be too busy to cook them. Since it’s the holiday season, Chef has been busy with large parties at work. And because I went home to see my parents for a few days, I couldn’t take advantage of the tomatoes, either. But the ever-resourceful Chef had a solution for the now mushy tomatoes, Bœuf Chasseur. (Which is just the fancy French way of saying hunter-style beef.)

Sauces are the stars in classic French cooking, with recipes dating back to the Middle Ages. In the 19th century, Antonin Carême, aka King of Chefs and Chef of Kings, classified all the sauces into four categories — Béchamel, Espagnole, Velouté, and Allemande.

The King of Chefs, chillin’ after categorizing the mother sauces

A century later, Auguste Escoffie said, nu-uh, homeboy, there are five: Béchamel, Espagnole, Velouté, Hollandaise, and Tomate.

Escoffier telling Carême, “I don’t think so.”

Anyway, Chausseur is a small sauce, or one that’s made with a mother sauce base. The traditional recipe, coined by Phillipe de Mornay, is a brown sauce made with espagnole and demi-glace bases, mushrooms and white wine, but of course there are countless variations.

For ours, we’ll be using tomatoes and red wine in place of the mushrooms and white wine. Normally I’m hesitant to cook sauces, but Chef modified this recipe for ease, i.e., he took out the mother sauce.* Seriously, I didn’t even need supervision; Chef just shouted instructions to me from the laundry room.

*Obviously the “chausseur” in the name of this recipe isn’t for the sauce, but for the style of cooking.

Bœuf Chasseur

2 hunks of meat (We had filets, but you can use any cut you want. Just keep in mind leaner ones are best.)

6 tomatoes
4 gloves garlic, minced
1 medium onion, sliced
salt
pepper
olive oil
fresh rosemary
1/2 cup red wine

1. Cut the tomatoes in half and squeeze the seeds out. (Seeds are sour, and sour does not a good sauce make.)

2. Coat an oven-safe pan with olive oil, and layer the garlic over the oil. (It’s best to put the garlic on the bottom so it doesn’t burn. Roasted garlic is good, too toasted is bad.)
4. Place the tomatoes skin-side up on the garlic, season with salt and pepper.
5. Put the onions on top of that, then drizzle with a little olive oil.
6. Broil the tomatoes until the skins start to crack. (Keep an eye on them! If the onions turn dark, push them toward the bottom)
7. Take them out whenever the tomato skins peel off easily. But let them sit for about ten minutes first, unless you’re planning to commit a crime and could do without fingerprints.
8. Get the peeled tomato mixture back on the stove and add a few sprigs of fresh rosemary.
9. Cook that for about five minutes, add the red wine and let that simmer down. Once it’s reduced, put it aside until you’re ready to pour it over your steak.
Pour le bœuf:
1. Add about 2 tsbs olive oil to a pan & let it get hot. Then add 1/2 tbsp butter and let it melt.
2. Sear one side of the beef.
Now, you can either sear the other side, cooking it to your preferred temperature, or you can take it off the heat and let it finish cooking in the oven to get a more tender piece of meat. We chose the latter option. (Our meat took about 5-7 minutes for a nice medium rare.)

Add a glass of red wine and ta da — the perfect winter meal. (cooking.com)

You couldn’t ask for an easier entree. As for the sides, you’re on your own.

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