Food » LIFE ON SUGARBERRY

If At First You Don't Succeed...

Mar 202011

Before I make some suggestions to our readership, allow me to post a disclaimer.

I would never identify myself a chef per se.

To me, a chef is someone who can innovate, who can create unique flavor combinations that brighten each of the flavors individually and can reference a book whenever tempted to do so, but could easily continue turning out edible food without it. They have a natural gift that enables them to access all of their senses while they cook, and we’re the lucky bastards who by chance get to glimpse into their artistry for a brief, glorious moment as we gorge on the fruits of their labor.

I, on the other hand, am more like a cook.

I possess a few key qualities that make me highly qualified for this role:

I can read.
I can follow directions.
I can use a knife without maiming myself (or at least, most of the time)
I have food, a stovetop and an oven at my disposal.

Note that none of the above qualities require one iota of creativity. Aaaalll I need is a brain, two hands and an Epicurious web account.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t give it the old college try. Let’s be honest – I’ve added garlic to things that were better left bland. And there have been some attempts to ad hoc sauces that resulted in things…horrible, indescribable things…the stuff of snuff films [shiver]. But these completely FUBAR meals were punctuated with moments of brilliance, and you can bet your sweet ass that I cling to those creative successes like Charlie Sheen clings to the last threads of fame (you didn’t think that we were going to get thru without a Sheen bit did you? WINNING!).

So it is in our cooking as it is in life – trial and error often makes for the best outcomes. From my rare culinary epiphanies (and admittedly, the epiphanies of my favorite cookbook chefs), I’ve come to my own conclusions about what items every person should have in their pantry and/or fridge. I use all of these things weekly in one way or another and have learned to tame my impulse to add them in inconceivable amounts. Oh, and for those of you who are asking where things like olive oil, butter and bacon are on this list, those are beyond pantry staples – those are mainstays that belong on the “why eat it if it’s not an ingredient” list.

Go forth and season with reckless abandon.

Garam Masala - spicy on land...and apparently while in flight.

1. Garam masala – I bought this spice mix as part of a base for a homemade curry recipe I’d found. Before that, I’d never sought it out, but after my boyfriend added it to tomato-based pizza sauce, I was convinced that it should be as fundamental as garlic and onions are to…well, everything. It doesn’t take more than a half teaspoon to bring out a richer, smokier flavor in sweeter sauces.

2. Canned Tomatoes – Speaking of sweeter sauces, why buy another jar of pasta sauce when it is brutally simple to make your own? As long as you keep peeled, diced tomatoes in your pantry, you can easily throw in a mix of spices that are to your liking, let the brew simmer and pour over your favorite pasta. I’ve been forever changed by trying this myself.

3. Star anise – Another lovely spice that is everything nice, preferably purchased whole. Throw one into your sauces to add a hint of licorice but don’t forget to remove it so that your dinner guests aren’t gnawing on the shell.

4. Fresh basil – A quintessential carbohydrate compliment, mix with tomatoes for bruschetta, sprinkle over ramen or Italian pastas, blend up fresh pesto and spread on crostini. Basically, it’s my bread enabler.

5. Lemongrass – Just the smell of lemongrass makes my knees buckle with joy. I love throwing an entire stalk into my chicken stock recipes – it’s my attempt to mimic tom yum soup.

6. Sesame oil – Add a drop or two to your pan for a nuttier flavor to sautéed meats. Keep in the fridge so it doesn’t spoil. Avoid the temptation to overuse – and know that you will be tempted.

7. Chile peppers – pick your pepper to match your spice preferences. I like things that result in sniffling and crying, so I opt for thai chiles, but if you aren’t a fan of raw, molten heat, then aim for a jalapeno or Serrano. A good addition for just about anything – cornbread, soups, stir frys, sauces, even some alcoholic beverages can be surprisingly enhanced with a balance of sweet and spicy (try fresh strawberry AND a bit of jalapeno in your next margarita).

8. Feta cheese – Feta is not just for your sad lunchtime salads anymore. I keep it in the fridge and use it instead of parmesan for fresh pesto sauces. It results in a creamier version with a sharper flavor.

**What are your recommendations? Post a response and Share in Sugarberry! ***

Happy [Insert Name Here] Day - Living Between the Holidays

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Dec 052010

I don't know this lady, but I definitely recognize that feeling.

Ah, the holidays. They present a multitude of opportunities for self loathing.

Gorging on generously buttered delights without regard for January’s reckoning.

Sharing in the shame of choices made under the influence of an open bar (preferably with an awkward set of spectators that will remind you of your antics later – like coworkers ).

Graphic candy binges in response to the tension that comes along with balancing your checkbook or the reality show style anxiety of spending more than a few hours with relatives

All of which builds up to the climax, a final orgasm of wrapping paper, mimosas and guilt. Which implies that a deep sleep follows.

I don’t want to talk about any of these moments.

Instead, I’d like to focus on the delightful moments in between. As I’ve come to grips with being a bit of a granny, the thing that I appreciate more and more is the time I preserve just for me – the odd Sunday, a few weeknights. These simple hours are what allow for enjoyment when the crowd moves in and capitalizes on your personal space.

But no one said you couldn’t have a few self indulgent traditions set aside for the cozy nights in or the introverted excursions out of the town. Here’s a few of mine to try out, preferably with such mindless favorites as sleep, TV or social networking.

1. Top Ramen – by far, Ramen is the most underrated food of all time and it’s not just for struggling college students anymore. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend integrating it into your daily food regimen since the salt content is high enough to induce instantaneous hypertension, but when the inevitable holiday party hangover strikes and stopping for Pho is just an impediment to lying in the bottom of your shower in the fetal position, then I’m guessing health isn’t at the top of your checklist anyway. I like that it’s a malleable ready-to-eat food – mince garlic, ginger, lemongrass and a Serrano pepper. Add to the boiling water along with the seasoning packet and the noodles. Top with minced basil, mint, a bit of Sriracha and a lime. Revel in the magical healing properties of processed food.

2. Hot Cider with Brandy – When the weather turns, alcohol’s warming capabilities are only truly effective with an incremental quantity increase. I’d rather drink hot cider with brandy. I recommend getting apple cider. Apple juice doesn’t do it and there are actually fresh pressed versions that are the best choice. Get a mug, microwave the cider for about 2 ½ minutes, then add a shot or two of brandy. Cozy up with a good book and a fireplace. Make sure that if you have a second, your cell phone is out of reach to avoid regrettable texting. Just speaking from experience.

3. Starbucks Peppermint Lattes Mochas and Cranberry Bliss Bars – There are upsides and downsides to Starbucks at this time of year. Upsides: little slices of gingerbread covered in cream cheese frosting and topped with cranberries washed down with minty nonfat lattes. Downsides: the long line you have to stand in to get it and the likelihood that you’re behind several people who are ordering elaborate drinks for five different people. Suck it up, it’s worth the wait.

Cheers, Berryfolk.

Jessica L. Anderson

Right in the Kisser - Craft and Commerce

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Sep 282010

I'm prepetually between steps 6 and 7 - Courtesy of Wikipedia

“Prohibition has made nothing but trouble.” – Al Capone.

Well, maybe not NOTHING but trouble. Allow me to make my case, Al.

It’s pretty hard to find a bar nowadays with the right balance – less drowning craft vodka in Red Bull, more high class whisky with a hint of mint. Less 130 BPM Beyonce, more Band of Horses. Less West Coast Jersey Shore, more flip flops and flannels. Oh and my waistline could do with more duck egg salads over jalapeno poppers and chicken fingers.

Our modern day reunion with the speakeasy has given way to a small but commendable cross section of San Diego gastropubs, hipster clubs and bars that hold themselves to a higher standard – Noble Experiment, Prohibition, El Dorado to name a few.

Given, the more well known that some of these hidden gems become, the more tarnished they are with the greasy fingerprint of douchebaggery. And true, the more people that know about any secret, the less alluring and self satisfactory it is. But it seems that the proprietors of these fine establishments aren’t necessarily willing to compromise their reputation for all that applesauce, which is why I believe that they’ll last beyond some of the 5^th Avenue come-and-go hot spots. I like that they don’t give a shit about deep tissue massaging our egos. They wanna massage my tastebuds. And maybe play footsies with my ego under the table. Fuck yea.

Enter Craft and Commerce.

: Bar at Craft and Commerce

My fantastic, elastic waistband wearing friend Erin was kind enough to drag me out of a slump in drinking/eating (induced by overwork) with a night out to the blossoming gastropub. I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by- Erin is no slouch when it comes to slinging forks and martini glasses, so I packed a bag in the hopes that I would be waking up on a couch. Before we’d stumbled into a cab, we were already a couple of cocktails deep. High five.

Craft and Commerce is located at the corner of Beech and Kettner. I specifically remember this fact because about a year prior, Erin and I had arrived at the same location where a lesser institution had lived during Taste of Little Italy. It was towards the end of the tour, the food there had been terrible and we were looking defeated by the cannolis we’d forced down at the prior restaurant we’d visited. As we were leaving, someone pointed out that we were wearing drawstring pants and laughed. We beamed with pride.

But I digress. As usual.

When we arrived this time, less sloppy and more eager than our previous visit to that spot, I was elated to see that the whole corner space had been reworked – the patio opened up to the bar opened up to the dining room, with less enclosed space, the lighting was much more intimate and warm, and fantastic music playing at a conversational volume. The bartenders were dapper in suspenders and pageboy hats. And what really sold me were the giant bookshelves heavy with old books.

“You can actually pull a book off and read it if you wanted to,” Nate Stanton , part owner and our guide for the evening, pointed out.

Nate’s no stranger to this – he’s been helping people like Mauricio Couturier and Arsalun Tafazoli to plant other watering holes like some previously mentioned in this article. He knows how much the details count.

That’s the kind of consideration that turns me on. The kind that makes you think to play audio books in the bathroom. What a great feeling to relieve yourself AND revisit George Orwell’s “Animal Farm.” Who wants to compromise? Not me!

Erin and I sat at the bar and over ordered, as is customary – mussels, duck egg salad, fried chicken, biscuits, I think that there were French fries somewhere in there but can’t quite recall. While we waited for the cavalry to arrive, cocktails were mixed.

The beauty of this place is that they have called in masters in the art of mixology to train their staff in whipping up simple, flavorful cocktails that preserve the essence of the liquor they honor. They brew all of their own simple syrups – grapefruit, cinnamon…some of them cooking for hours on end to bring out the maximum level of flavor. Many of their mixers are made on site, like their Bloody Mary mix. They also mix up punch bowls – I haven’t tried one yet, but I plan on having many more indulgent, drunken Daisy Buchanan moments there, so it’s only a matter of time.

One of the key components in preserving their exclusivity is the fact that they refuse to serve vodka, which completely transforms the experience. For those of us who can handle our brown booze, they offer a heavenly array of whiskey, scotch and bourbon. For those of us who can’t, you won’t be disappointed when they magically transform something you otherwise wouldn’t have considered drinking into a muddled elixir, blending ingredients that were likely pulled off of a branch or carefully distilled by hand instead of poured from a generic Smart and Final plastic bottle labeled “Margarita Mix.”

I tossed back a Lagavoulin over ice like it was my job, ordered another and gratefully received our dinner. I’ll spare you the graphic details of what ensued over the next hour, but in short, the biscuits were buttery, flavorful and delightfully delicate. The mussels stood apart from the other dishes – garlicky and a nice pairing for the biscuits, which I lavished in broth.

Everything was hearty and thoughtfully prepared, though I believe that they are a few gentle steps from finding their cadence with what they turn out – after all, it was only a month or two since opening and I don’t believe I’ve ever gone to a flawless restaurant premiere. They are not far from greatness in their edibles.

However, the drinks are definitely the stars of this show and they won me over, heart and soul. If nothing else, belly up to the bar, choose a liquor and have the bartender pull together his whim. And while you’re at it, order biscuits.

Across the eastern wall of the restaurant interior are the words “Demand Less.” What a fascinating, contradictory statement – a blatant demand unto itself, but also a plea to respect the simplicity of the ingredients at hand. I believe that the restaurant emanates this sentiment, even in the name across it’s doors – edgy and elegant, strong and delicate.

So Al, although I’m certain that the hundreds of people that died or suffered by your hand would agree that Prohibition sucked, and although I’d be appalled if it ever reared its ugly head again, there’s always a silver lining and more importantly, the timeless lessons in human nature, that we humbly inherited. We here in 2010 are grateful that the hush-hush world of the speakeasy, the one that made the art of the cocktail ever more exclusive, artful and classy, has been reinvented for us.

JLEE

Craft and Commerce

http://www.craft-commerce.com/

Finding Balance in Gluttony

Eating with JLEE 1 Response »

Aug 312010

Anyone who knows Rosie, (our dearest friend and fearless Sugarberry founder) sympathizes with the unique medical condition she deals with each and every day – a condition known as Appetite Induced Vertigo.

Some of you may share in her plight – symptoms tend to present themselves every 2-3 hours and range from running blindly into stationery objects that are prominently displayed, to losing control of sentence structure in mid-conversation. Prescriptions are typically craving based, but include such favorites as French fries, mango sticky fried rice, chocolate or a fresh roll of sushi. Through this harrowing “ordeal”, Rosie has become a culinary compass with a wealth of favorite foodie destinations, guiding people much like myself to the promised land of caloric delights.

So when I heard that Rosie and her confidant Razaana were teaming up to host a sushi and dessert tasting, I RSVP’d for two people and went solo.

I arrived at Razaana’s beautiful Alpine ranch in a loose, black dress (not an accident) and heels (mistake). Rosie greeted me and made sure I was equipped with sake and snacks, enough foreplay to keep me from pouncing on the spread of sushi and dessert that had already been laid out. The chefs at Panda Machi in Alpine were kind enough to bring a massive array of rolls and nigiri. And equally tantalizing were the many desserts on display, lovingly made by Trinessa Brown, who founded her own dessert company, The Sweet Spot. Her pecan tarts stared me down and dared me to dig in before everyone else. Ah, food knows me so well.

Thankfully, I redirected my energy to the amazing homemade samosas that were circulating and then cornered Trinessa and her husband Cecil, two warm and welcoming individuals who support each other in turning out mind altering desserts. Baking, being typically considered a science to most, seems to come naturally to Trinessa (the chef), who finds focus and peace in her craft. It clearly translates into her confections, which are born from recipes optimized with practice and feedback she receives from the always eager sampling volunteers she finds in her family.

Once the sushi was unleashed, our conversation slowed and my marathon began. I pulled from several rolls that looked familiar to me, but when I locked eyes with the spicy tuna/shrimp tempura roll topped with spicy mayo and a slice of jalapeno, I knew it was the one. The crisp, fried shrimp, the velvety mayo, the kick of what was almost certainly sirracha hot sauce and jalapeno – It sang to me. Overall, Panda Machi is a go – the fish was consistently fresh and everyone who had dined on site at their location in Alpine had raving reviews of the service.

I spent the remainder of the sushi feast eating more sushi whilst standing near the Sweet Spot table in anticipation of someone initiating the dessert buffet. No one wants to be the first, especially when they haven’t even finished their main course. They just want to be there when the first person starts so that they can jump in right after. I could see Rosetta from across the room, pacing, a stumble in her step.

It was all worth the wait. Trinessa lifted the glass lids and began the distribution of what turned out to be a set of edible divinities. The pecan tarts that had taunted me earlier saw their demise – miniature pie crusts with a subtlety of sweetness that allowed the pecan filling to positively shine. I also capitalized on the amaretto cheesecake that had been the belle of the ball. Trinessa glowed as the crowd swooned over their slices – cheesecake is apparently a newer addition to her repertoire, but you would never know it. Most cheesecake is creamy with density. This was pillow soft and incredibly rich. A slice should be eaten in slow, carefully considered bites to truly capture the texture and the depth of flavor that goes beyond being just sweet and dense. Amaretto rang thru what was a less tangy and more butter cream bite.

But the real treat for me was an unassuming plate of what looked like fluffy sugar cookies. I imagine that Trinessa must have made these a thousand times because the recipe could not be more perfectly balanced to result in a texture so light that it was reminiscent of cotton candy. The cookie makes it to your lips, then collapses delicately with one bite into a buttery, crumbly mouthful. Absolutely divine.

I was excessively sated by the time Rosie walked me out to my car. We shared a laugh over stories of our shared clumsiness, situations that result from awkward moments, hunger and just a general lack of awareness when it comes to our surroundings. It’s reassuring to know that we can count on each other for validation when our body and mind demand food, liquor and any number of other gluttonous consolation prizes. And it’s satisfying to know that we can share in moments like these, supported by individuals with a passion for what they produce, people who put heart and soul into it.

Rosie can tell you – nourishment is stabilizing on every level.

Rosie chats up anyone near the dessert table.

JLEE

Coming Soon – Look forward to Life on Sugarberry events like this one for readers to attend!

Panda Machi
http://www.yelp.com/biz/panda-machi-alpine

The Sweet Spot
A grass roots, family business by referral only. Please email Life on Sugarberry for more information.

Special thanks to Razaana and family for hosting!

These Little Piggies Went to Market

Eating with JLEE, Food 1 Response »

Jul 242010

Unlike other hard working individuals in their early twenties, my friend Liberty and I were not exactly putting away our then meager earnings in hopes of one day settling down or paying off our student loans. To the contrary! We were living at home, oblivious to fiscal responsibility and blowing our paychecks on sexy, edible accessories to good company. I’d say we were nothing short of flavor junkies.

At the time, I was working as a hostess at Mille Fleurs in Rancho Santa Fe, a French restaurant originally run by Bertrand Hug, father to the current proprietor Julien Hug, aka one of the many man-flavors from The Bachelorette, season 5. Sigh! Name dropping is fun.

Working at a place like Mille Fleurs meant you were sampling from the finest that SD could manage – Chinos farms produce, Martin Woesle’s heart stopping wienerschnitzel, lobster salads so delicate they made my eyes rain. At the ripe age of 19, this seemed to be the absolute apex of culinary decadence. The only thing more mind boggling to an underage college student than watching someone leave behind two thirds of a bottle of Cristal is being invited to finish it.

So, as you can imagine, an addiction took shape, one that was difficult (and expensive) to satisfy. And being the excellent friend that Liberty is, she allowed me to drag her down into a calorie laden, wallet emptying fine dining binge that lasted about, oh, a year or so (basically, until we both moved out and California rent beat the shit out of our food budget. That’s when I was reborn into the glory of Top Ramen – recipes in a future blogisode, stay tuned).

We haunted Sbicca in Del Mar on Tuesday nights for half priced wine, pressed our ears to the ground hoping to hear the urban rumble of a restaurant opening, met owners and chefs and in short, received an all out education on the art of eating.

In present day, I’m fortunate enough to have Liberty as my roommate and she continues to serve as my partner in culinary crime. Of course, we’ve learned to exercise some restraint (one of the few gifts that age can offer), but we do indulge in the occasional five course extravaganza. As we did recently at Market in Del Mar.

Let me start off by saying that I’d heard about this restaurant for months. Some of the most reliable foodies I know were enamored with the quality of the ingredients, the flavor compositions, the frequent shifts in menu offerings to accommodate what’s available. It’s all very compelling.

Liberty and I sat in the bar in hopes of a more casual atmosphere to catch up in. It’s clear that Market is one of the Del Mar hotspots, despite its off-the-main-drag location near the Polo Fields. The flossy crowd surrounded us on all sides as we settled in with menus.

One thing that really struck me was that the service was excellent – wait staff weren’t stuffed into arrogant costumes and parading about for what they believed to be the important tables. The waitress was approachable, knowledgable, incredibly attentive and comfortably dressed.

Let’s get to the good stuff, shall we?

An amuse bouche arrived immediately after we ordered a split bottle of Penner Ash Pinot Noir (2007, Willamette). A single slice of nectarine, smear of house made strawberry jam, Boucheron goat cheese, crouton for texture, served in a Chinese soup spoon. I wouldn’t say it was one bite, but the nectarine was at the peak of its life and the textures were sublime – from punching through the skin of the nectarine to letting the slip of Boucheron, salt and jam burst forth, it was by far the highlight of the meal for me. My bouche was all atwitter.

Next course: grapefruit salad with pink and white grapefruit, avocado, endive, goat cheese, sea salt, pistachios, olive oil. The balance of oil and acid was fantastic and this is another dish that inspired us to wonder if Chef Carl Schroeder had a method by which he identified the precise tipping point between too young and too old for each ingredient. A simple dish, elevated by what nature had to offer.

Third course: Duck confit, spicy white nectarines that were mystifyingly edgy by way of a Mostarda glaze, arugula. The confit was nicely prepared and it was refreshing to see someone play with the flavors and reach beyond cherry. We were absolutely on cloud nine at this juncture.

I wish I could say it was a complete fairytale. But alas…

Fourth course: we decided on sushi, since they had what seemed to be a robust and bold selection of rolls. We ordered two – a Lobster Roll and a Taylor Made roll, which was doused in truffle oil. Seemed like a no brainer.

The sushi arrived and we rolled up our sleeves to dig in. One bite and my heart sank – the rice was severely undercooked. I’m not a picky person, but the crunchy texture of the sushi rice completely derailed the silky truffle oil bathed yellowtail, or in the case of the lobster roll, the buttery chunks of fish. Liberty shrugged and took the high road, reveling in the quality of the fish, which, agreed, was delicate and flavorful. I sighed, the pessimist to her optimist, and hoped for a sugary miracle to cap off our experience.

And we were given one. The S’mores dessert was absolutely divine – toasted marshmallow over a warm, thick and gooey chocolate center cradled by a mini graham cracker pie shell. The highlight was that the shell was drizzled with smoked sea salt, cutting the sugary blow it dealt and absolutely giving us a reason to return.

By the end of the night, we decided that on the whole, we’d been sold. We dismissed the rice snafoo as just that and returned home, confident that we’d tempered our fine dining urges, at least temporarily.

These experiences are always money well spent – never second guess that. Admittedly, when my student loan payment cuts through my paycheck, I wonder if I could’ve done without the nights of shameless gorging and wine guzzling. But then I realize how much we value and appreciate every bite now, regardless of its source, and I pat myself on the back. Maybe I’m just making excuses, but the way that I look at it, others invested in life. We invested in living!

JLEE

www.millefleurs.com
www.marketdelmar.com

I got a fever...and the only perscription...is more cow

Eating with JLEE, Food 3 Responses »

Jun 252010

I am a born again carnivore.

That’s right, who’d have thunk that anyone, let alone me, could give up such glorious edibles as bacon, ribs and fried chicken just to pull a few dollars away from horribly managed mass producers of our furry and feathered friends?

For five years, I lavished in Mother Nature’s everyday harvest (including some fish – omitting sushi sounded like a prison sentence), a wide array of Morningstar appetizers that bore a distant relative type of resemblance to actual meat, and a lot of Soyrizo (which rendered friends of mine confined to the restroom for extraordinary amounts of time – I was somehow immune). More roughage made its way thru my digestive system than thru a Husqvarna lawnmower.

It felt good to know that my beliefs were realized in action, to sacrifice for a greater good. And honestly, to this day, I still have restaurants I love, recipes I cook and tricks I’ve learned as a consequence of being a pescatarian.

But, as some of you will attest to, optimism thins with age and the realization that life is short starts to wear on your resilience against things like saying no to another cocktail or choosing to work out over sitting on your ass with a good book, a pizza and a bottle of wine (and as you can plainly see, all of my weaknesses involve liquor, but I digress ).

So, about a year ago, upon hearing from a doctor that I might benefit from eating things like chicken again, I caved. It was especially easy knowing that there were a multitude of planet friendly ways to enjoy meat, a fact that I used to make myself feel better about the whole situation.

His recommendation – stick to poultry. My corresponding course of action – a frickin’ meat free for all.

I ate meat with reckless abandon. Pork, beef, duck – it was all fair game again. The grocery store busted wide open with options. For some reason, pepperoni was a long lost favorite and how else does one eat pepperoni but upon a fantastic piece of pizza? My best pairs of jeans whimpered.

And of course, I relished the fact that I could return to an all American favorite enjoying a revival in the restaurant scene – the burger.

Over the past few years, to my delight, the “upscale burger joint” has become hip, trendy and widely accepted, a seemingly defiant turn of events for a Southern Californian audience. Of course, most of these spots offer free range, grass fed lines of beef and offer alternatives like home made veggie burgers and chicken breast sandwiches, so they’re not completely turning their backs from going green. It’s the guilty pleasure that’s become cool again, however it’s moderated.

The Neighborhood on G Street Downtown is a personal favorite and it’s where I was burger born again. I’d been there before for beer and appetizers – they boast some obscure craft beers and the staff are practically beer sommeliers. Plus, I love the atmosphere – a gastropub with slate colored walls punctuated with a variety of paintings altered to pose famous figures with their burgers (the Mona Lisa, Jesus, Jimi Hendrix, etc.). Their Neighborhood burger is sophisticated and never disappoints – blue gruyere, carmelized onions and mixed greens give it a complex marriage of bitter, sweet and salty. The burger itself is lean but still juicy throughout. Burger juice plus sugary onions equals you win.

For those of you in North County that don’t feel like making your way south, The Counter in the Forum serves up a good burger as well. This is more of a build your own burger situation where you’re provided with a hefty list of meat, topping, condiment and bun options. Their beef is 100% hormone and antibiotic free, humanely treated (although I couldn’t find anything on their site to clarify how that’s defined). They offer turkey burgers, house made veggie burgers and chicken patties. You can also opt for a “burger salad” – sans bun. You can even pick the patty weight. Oh, and they have a full bar. My liver smiles when I hear that.

The Counter - photo credit to The Counter Website

Admittedly, this is a chain, but I wouldn’t have known it. I had a beef burger with feta, pickles, red onion, thousand island and avocado on a multi grain bun. They cook their burgers to their standard of medium, which is bordering medium rare, which was my preference anyway. It was well prepared, toppings were very fresh and their sweet potato fries made my day.

If someone said to me, where will you eat your last burger based upon current San Diego options, I’d still pick Burgerlounge, hands down. I’ve mentioned this place before – it’s also a chain (local to SD though). Their beef is grass fed, never frozen. They have a simple menu with only three burger choices and the accessories don’t change – fresh white onion, thousand island, tomato, lettuce and either white cheddar or American cheese. There’s something to be said for a place that doesn’t fiddle with a good thing. And they use what they call a “Lounge Bun,” which is like a Kaiser roll. Delicious and I highly recommend it.

Burgerlounge in Little Italy - photo credit to Burgerlounge website

It’s been glorious getting to know this city’s restaurant scene all over again since my rebirth. Now that I’ve shared my favorites, go forth and celebrate your primal roots – please revisit Sugarberry and post your two cents. I’m a hack, you may know better.

Oh, and don’t be surprised if you run into me at one of the above locations and don’t be disgusted if I’m a hot mess eating my burger. After all, I’ve been depraved and I’m still playing catch up.

JLEE

http://neighborhoodsd.com/
http://www.thecounterburger.com/
http://www.burgerlounge.com/

I Left my Heart in Makawao

Eating with JLEE 1 Response »

May 272010

: A wayward traveler, seeking relaxation and pastry love.

I am not known for being charming if woken before about 7 in the morning. In fact, I’m liable to bite someone’s head off. Sleep is almost as holy if not holier than food, and especially when I’m on a week’s vacation in Maui, I cherish the moments of extra shut eye that don’t make their way into my everyday life.

That’s why when I found myself in a mini van with my family and a gaggle of tourists at 3:00 AM (Hawaii time) to head up to watch the sunrise on Haleakala and bike to the bottom, I was not to be trifled with. Coffee was nowhere to be found at that hour and I summoned all of my faculties in the hopes that the sunrise would ruse some sleeping beauty from within (fat chance).

The van wound its way up in darkness while the driver pointed out various highlights along the way. I’m sure it was all interesting, but I had pulled my hood over my head and was leveraging my window seat, reveling in the promise of a nap. I’d completely tuned him out until we passed thru a small town called Makawao and he stopped in front of an unassuming, unlit building.

“On the right, you’ll see the best bakery in all of Hawaii, probably the best bakery in the world. I would recommend stopping here on your way down.”

Shadows of sleeping heads popped up like alarmed ferrets from the seats and leaned towards the window to absorb this one piece of information before sinking back into their seats and sleeping for the remainder of the journey.

A lovely sunrise full of the promise of deep fried happiness

Fast forward to a few hours later – my spirits renewed from good company, good scenery and the extra z’s, we parked our bikes in front of the locally famous Komoda bakery. And the pearly gates opened before us and gave us…donuts.

Behold the gates of heaven!

The donut. A national treasure, the police equivalent of truck stop dining, and the cubicle delight that brings at least a tiny ray of sunshine into an ordinarily hum drum office environment. These clichés are for ordinary donuts.

A bit of history – we actually have the Dutch to thank for our breakfast binges. They brought their olykoeks (yes, that means oily cakes) here to the US of A, where they lovingly fried up sugary dough in pork fat. Ah, the glory days!

Thank god I’d don’t live in Maui, because if I did, I would be at the door of Komoda Bakery in Makawao every morning with teeth bared and a hint of crazy in my eye. Make no mistake, this is a life changing donut.

It’s a large, family owned bakery with a small grocery section and an odd back room filled with a ménage of hoarded items to hold your interest for hours while you make your way thru the selection of pastries they offer – coffee tins for sale, old standup life size advertisements for cigarettes and beer, and most engaging were the posters with photos of the original owner, Takezo Komoda, who left a plantation job and started the bakery in 1916.

Komoda and a few of his admirers, in costume no less

Four generations later, the ancestors of Takezo Komoda are making the same donuts. They do not disappoint. Each of their donuts is made with a sweet dough reminiscent of Hawaiian sweet rolls, giving them a texture that’s doughy yet light and moist throughout the center. Many of their donuts are served on sticks – smaller donuts stacked across a skewer. After a glaze bath, they’re encrusted with coconut or macadamia nuts. The grainy, sugary texture of the glaze, the slight crunch of the fried exterior and then your teeth melt into the gooey center. Heaven. They’re also well known for their cream puffs – messy, rich and easily devoured in multiples. I’m not sure you could go wrong ordering anything that they offer, from pies to cookies to any variety of donut they sell like the guava malasada, which is basically a guava jelly filled donut.

We entered the bakery with the intent of having a quick snack before heading to the base of the mountain. We left with a bag of sweet rolls, three more donut sticks, a cream puff and an éclair. We slowly enjoyed them for the days to follow and although they weren’t quite as fresh as the day we purchased them, I was pleasantly surprised at how well they kept their flavor and texture.

Now, back on the Mainland, we’re left with the everyday donut. My sister in Chicago has been having incessant dreams (literally) of donuts on sticks and here in San Diego, I reluctantly (but gratefully) ate an office donut while dreaming of pulling delicate bites of happiness from sticks on an island a couple thousand miles away. Just another reason to pine for the island life.

Aloha,

JLEE

The motherlode.

http://www.makawaotowncenter.com/index_secid_thenandnow_catid_2.htm

http://www.yelp.com/biz/t-komoda-store-and-bakery-makawao

Photos compliments of Matt Spangler, artist extraordinare.

The Joys of Emotional Eating

Food No Responses »

Apr 142010

They say that when a door closes a window opens somewhere. That’s how I see unpredictable mood swings – the door of productivity, social interest and active engagement with the world around you closes, but ah, the window of gluttony opens to provide you with ample excuse to neglect yourself by way of otherwise inedible delights.

On days like today, when little frustrations add up to result in a complete abortion of focus, there are few things greater than food and drink. I think that comfort food is the wrong word – comfort food is for situations like break ups. Emotional eating is for days when the gardener starts blowing the leaves off your porch at 6AM, when you just can’t deal with one more asshole driver, you’re sick of email and Outlook reminders, and you’ve sat in a plethora of meetings that render your brain completely barren. All on the same day. More like a “Fuck this shit, I’m eating” mentality.

Typically, there aren’t consistent dining options in these situations. It’s not like a planed event – “I’m probably having a mood swing on Wednesday, so I should make a reservation.” Nah, it’s more of a spontaneous move. Sometimes in these situations, I feel like my car is driving itself thru the In-N-Out drive thru.

However, I can definitely make recommendations that you can tuck away into your subconscious. Then when it appears, your car knows where to go. Here are a few of my favorite binges. And feel free to post some recommendations of your own! No shame!

For those who prefer a quick and easy, savory binge, here are my top 3 craveable spots:

Burger Lounge – There’s one in Hillcrest and one in La Jolla. I just went with the Queen of Sugarberry, Ms. Rosie, and if anyone happened to see us with runny burger juice running down our fingers, they were probably pointing and laughing at our expressions – eyes closed, fingers licked, Rosie dancing in her seat (typical – she has a dance that she does when food is good). Completely decadent grass fed beef burgers on Kaiser rolls with aged white cheddar. Oh, and fries. And onion rings. And they have red velvet cupcakes for those who like the complete end-to-end binge. Like me. And all of it is good.

Bongiorno’s Pizza – Located in Solana Beach on Stevens Ave. I’m not gonna lie – I would probably go streaking for a tomato, garlic and olive oil pizza from this place. I’ve gone there multiple times in my pajamas, a clear indication of the mood swing factor, and it didn’t seem to phase the guys behind the counter, which makes me believe that others may have done the same. Thin crust slices and full pies that are what I believe true New York style pizza should taste like.

Rico’s Taco Shop – An Encinitas favorite. Quick. Cheap. Consistent. No lard, which is like a consolation prize for shoving an entire Vegetarian burrito with guacamole into your grateful maw. Plus, not only do they have one of the best hot sauce recipes that I’ve found (more like a salsa than a hot sauce but peppery in the best way), I swear that they have the best Pepsi I can find anywhere in San Diego. Is there anything more satisfying than the precise chemistry of syrup to carbonated water? Really, people.

For those who prefer a sweet binge, here are my top 3 craveable treats:

Pizookie at BJ’s Pizzeria – How about a piping hot, deep dish cookie topped with a giant pile of ice cream? Order the Pizookie. Cookies in different flavors like white chocolate macadamia nut and oatmeal raisin. I don’t feel like descriptions are necessary here. Sometimes, chain restaurants deliver. Visit in La Jolla.

Ciao Bella Blood Orange Sorbet – So for those of you who have no desire to be around other human beings when the crankiness hits, then this is a great option. Normally, I’m not running for the fruity options, but this sorbet is rich in a tangy, citrus laced way. You can buy the minis or the pints at any grocery store including Vons. Refreshing for the summer – highly recommend it.

Mango Sticky Rice at Siamese Basil – In Encinitas on Hwy 101, you will find a fantastic Thai restaurant called Siamese Basil. I’d recommend lots of things on their menu, but I can’t think of a dessert that I crave more than mango sticky rice and they do it to perfection. Fresh sliced mangoes and sweet, white sticky rice covered in sugary syrup. I’ve heard from Thai friends that it’s not the easiest thing to make, so you can appreciate the artistry whilst eating your cares away.

Here’s to feeling chipper and full,

JLEE

Rico’s Taco Shop:
http://www.yelp.com/biz/ricos-taco-shop-encinitas

Burger Lounge:
http://www.burgerlounge.com/

Bongiorno’s Solana Beach:
http://www.bongiornos-sb.com/

BJ’s Pizzeria:
http://www.bjsbrewhouse.com/menu.aspx

Ciao Bella:
http://www.ciaobellagelato.com/

Siamese Basil:
http://www.yelp.com/biz/siamese-basil-encinitas

The Very Thing That Sustains Us

Eating with JLEE, Food No Responses »

Mar 282010

I'm a sucker for a good deal and a good pie.

Both my mother and my grandmother were culinary geniuses. At no point in my upbringing were they whipping soufflés together or roasting duck. Those are different kinds of geniuses. The mother figures in my life were taking leftover potatoes and bricks of welfare cheese to make miracles of nothing.

I know, I know – this sounds like a condescending conversation with a child – “I had to walk thru 10 miles of snow butt naked to get to school.” The point is, we all have stories about how food shaped our upbringing, provided us with opportunities to commune with loved ones, and comforted us when life couldn’t. It’s been a friend and an enemy to most, an indifferent participant in the day-to-day for others.

Ultimately, in my humble lifetime, food was always my way of giving tough times the middle finger. When the purse strings were tight and the pantry was empty save a few fundamentals, we rose to the challenge as a family and faced it head on as an opportunity for creativity in the kitchen. On days when the potatoes, the frozen broccoli and a wedge of cheddar were all that was left, I frowned at the knowledge that others were more fortunate, but mom and grandma laughed defiantly and made decadent soups that were well seasoned and full of flavor. I learned quickly that resilience and ingenuity took any circumstances and transformed them into pure joy.

In short, when all we had was lemons, we made lemon meringue pie.

And in honor of that fact, I’m sharing my grandmother’s lemon meringue pie recipe. It’s a tangy spring/summer dessert that’s fairly simple to make and doesn’t require complex technique or components. Enjoy it in all its simplicity, and think back to what’s made you appreciate that the very thing that sustains us is a constant source of gratitude and happiness.

Here’s to you, grandma!

JLEE

LEMON MERINGUE PIE
1 baked 9-inch pie shell (I use a graham cracker pie shell)
1 cup sugar
1/8 tsp salt
1/4 cup cornstarch
2 tbsps butter
1.5 cups boiling water
1/3 cup lemon juice
2 tsp grated lemon rind
3 egg yolks

Mix sugar, salt and cornstarch. Add water and lemon juice. Cook in top of double boiler over hot water until clear and thick. Pour the hot mixture slowly over the egg yolks and return to double boiler. Cook 1 minute longer. Add butter and cool. Pour into baked pie shell

MERINGUE

3 egg whites
6 Tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla

Beat egg whites until they stand up in peaks, but not dry. Fold in sugar. Add vanilla. Spread meringue on top of pie, being sure meringue comes to edges of pie with no spaces between, as it is less likely to ‘weep’ or shrink. Bake in slow over (300F) for 30 minutes. Cool away f from drafts.

I never used a double boiler because I didn’t have one. I just cooked the mixture slowly and stirred constantly. Also I always added just a little more juice (tsp or so) and maybe a teaspoon more or less of grated lemon rind to get that tang everybody loves so much.

Pockets Full of Gold

Eating with JLEE, Food 2 Responses »

Mar 152010

It would be negligent, nay, sacrilege of me to write about another restaurant in this city before I pledged my allegiance to the delicate little bites that are turned out at Dumpling Inn.

Most people who live in San Diego know that you can chuck a dart in the general direction of just about any strip mall off of Convoy and end up with a memorable meal, or at the very least a thought-provoking one. Of course, depending upon your level of exotic food tolerance, you could be eating something as straightforward as ramen noodles or you could be sitting down to a plate of unidentified food matter. And both could be equally tasty.

But Dumpling Inn, or D.I. as it’s known to its nerd following…well, it holds a special place my heart and the hearts of those I know who make a regular Saturday pilgrimage. When I started my current desk job (after my last desk job), I started hearing whisperings about a weekend commitment that a few coworkers had made to eating dumplings. I asked my friend and fellow cube farmer, Wendy, when and where said grazing took place. She’s a respectable food paramour – I’ve watched her smear an entire ounce of caviar onto half of the last English Muffin in her fridge. No craving boundaries – hats off to her.

Anyway, it took a few rounds of overcommitted weekends before I had the chance to meet up with everyone. I made sure to wear elastic banded pants.

Now, if you don’t have a GPS unit to get you there, print out directions ahead of time – I’ve had more than one frustrated friend give up and go home before they could even find the place. Once you’ve spotted the mall signage and battled others for a parking spot, find your way to the northeast corner of the shopping center and you will find your happy place sandwiched between a foot massage parlor and a doctor’s office.

It’s a narrow, ten-table space without being claustrophobic. There used to be a philosophy of arriving early, but D.I.’s gotten enough press lately to guarantee you a wait at pretty much any hour. It’s worth it and honestly, I’d rather wait for quality then have them churning out mass quantities of flavorless crap.

I discovered not long after my initiation that they do to-go orders, so if you’re not feeling like standing around, it’s just as good if you can get it to your mouth within 15 minutes of picking it up.

Once your seated, hot green tea on the table and menus in hand, then it’s a proper family style gorging. The crew that I first went with did and (to this day) does order a very specific cross section of core menu items, with peripheral orders varying between seaweed salad and hot & sour soup.

First out every time are potstickers. I recall buying the Costco potstickers and attempting to get that crispy flat side while still maintaining a tender pocket of pork, which usually ended with me just boiling the shit out of them and making snot out of dumpling wrappers. I’ve learned as of late that there’s a steam/fry dichotomy that must be balanced, and D.I. has mastered it. Ask for them with the homemade hot sauce.

Chinese sausage fried rice follows. Curling Chinese sausage that has a sweet and savory blend of flavors akin to brown sugar over bacon, but thicker with more substance. Egg, green onion and sesame oil. Simple and pure in its flavor components. Nothing fancy like onion trains at Benihana, but fabulous as an intermediary between dumpling courses.

The crown jewel of Dumpling Inn is my personal favorite, and apparently the favorite of every Yelp critic – Xiao Long Bao, or pork soup dumplings. These tiny purses of joy are filled with pork and pork broth, so when you delicately pierce the dumpling wrapper, you pour soup into spoons, then chase it with a dumpling. Hot, brothy, soothing. Baptize it in chili oil and let it cleanse your hangover or lack thereof.

You will leave with a food baby and with the indelible need to return repeatedly. The miscreants I drop in with never seem to tire of it, and I am equally comforted by the knowledge that each Saturday, I can rely on starchy, pork-laden bites to revive me from my Friday hangover or prevent my Sunday one.

‘Til then,

JLEE

Photo Credit - Karen L., Yelp

Dumpling Inn (on Yelp)
http://www.yelp.com/biz/dumpling-inn-san-diego

Older Entries

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Happy [Insert Name Here] Day - Living Between the Holidays

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Finding Balance in Gluttony

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I Left my Heart in Makawao

The Joys of Emotional Eating

The Very Thing That Sustains Us

Pockets Full of Gold

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