L.A.’s Star Salad

Cobb salad with heirloom tomatoes, Applewood-smoked bacon, roquefort, grilled chicken and farm eggs

Remember that famous episode of “I Love Lucy” where Lucy and Ethel are in Hollywood, and they go to The Brown Derby to look for stars? They see William Holden in the booth next to them, and through the usual hilarious misadventures, wind up causing Mr. Holden to take a pie in the face. (It’s the same episode where Lucy later catches her nose on fire while lighting a cigarette…)

Back in the day, The Brown Derby was not only the place to see the stars — it was where L.A.’s greatest salad was invented. Go watch that episode of “I Love Lucy” again, and you’ll see it was a Cobb Salad that Bill Holden ordered. Created by the restaurant’s owner, Bob Cobb (cousin of baseball great, Ty Cobb), it’s one of those magnificent salads where all the components fit perfectly like a puzzle — crunchy lettuce, crisp bacon, velvety avocado, rich eggs, tender chicken, sweet tomatoes and salty bleu cheese.

I’ve seen this salad made with all kinds of other random ingredients — corn, cilantro, seared ahi, chipotle-this-or-that… I’m not one for screwing with a classic. I will offer my usual advice, however — the better your basics, the better the finished dish. So I use heirloom tomatoes, Applewood-smoked Niman Ranch bacon, a good Roquefort cheese, eggs from my own chickens… This recipe serves two, like in the picture.

Cobb Salad

1 medium head romaine lettuce
1 chicken breast, sprinkled with salt an hour before cooking
1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
1 avocado
2 eggs
3 strips bacon, cooked (save the fat)
1/4 cup crumbled bleu cheese
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tbsp rice wine vinegar
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
flaky sea salt and pepper

Cook the chicken breast in the reserved bacon fat over medium heat, turning once or twice, for about 15 minutes or until firm. Chop the romaine lettuce up. Place on two plates. You’ll arrange the rest of the salad on top of the lettuce. You’re welcome to get mavericky and do it your own way. But here’s how I arranged my Cobb salad in the photo. Slice each egg in four, and place two wedges at two corners of your salad. In the other corners, place half an avocado, sliced, and your tomato halves. Slice your chicken breast into strips, and arrange half the strips on each of the salads. Break up some bacon and scatter it on top of the chicken strips. Then scatter some crumbled bleu cheese over the salad.

For the dressing, in a small bowl combine the mustard and vinegars. Stir the oil vigorously into the mustard vinegar mixture until thoroughly combined. Drizzle over your salads. Finish each salad with a sprinkling of flaky sea salt and a few grinds of fresh pepper.

Wine suggestion: a crisp New Zealand sauvignon blanc (that’s for you, Emma)

*Stay tuned for the next installment of my “Great Salads” series — the Cobb’s southern cousin, the famous Caesar salad of Tijuana, Mexico, complete with a dressing shortcut based on none other than mayonnaise!

Church of the Sacred Table

Preparing a meal is a part of my spiritual practice — kinda like meditation or prayer. I’ve never gotten much sitting in a church, listening to that guy on the pulpit talk. I would slouch in the back, as if it was math class, afraid he was going to he call on me, while he rambled on about sin and salvation.

Sitting in a hard, cold pew on a brilliant Sunday morning was not my idea of inspiration — I never caught a glimpse of God in there. But put me in a kitchen beside vegetables yanked from the earth and a briny fish fresh pulled from the sea, and I’ll get lost in an ecstatic reverie that can only be described as mystical.

What is it about this most basic of activities that is so deeply resonant on so many levels? For one thing, it’s useful. I’ve always admired guys who make chairs — there is nothing more important than a chair, especially one that is well made and comfortable. A meal should be the same — well made and comfortable. And yet, it can also be much more. Like a symphony or a work of art or a great achievement in architecture, it can inspire and make us feel our place in the flow of life more deeply. It can connect us to the world — both what’s right there around us, and what’s far away and exotic. And it is an egalitarian pleasure. A rustic bread baked in a tandoori in a grimy alley in New Delhi is every bit as noble as a duck torte from the Parisian kitchen of Ducasse. A $.50 fish taco from a street corner in Puerto Vallarta can linger in the memory just as long as a whole fried catfish from a seafood palace in Hong Kong.

A plate of homemade food is also the antidote to our fast-food culture. I remember feeling encouraged years ago when the Slow Food movement emerged. Preparing a meal from scratch, even if it’s a simple pasta that only takes 20 minutes, is the opposite of that 20-something guy in the Carl’s Jr. commercial grunting and spilling ketchup all over himself. It’s an act of love and respect, toward yourself and the bounty that has been afforded us. Go to the farmer’s market, buy whatever’s in season — not shipped/trucked in from Chile or New Zealand, but from the guy who grew them a few miles away. Listen to what he has to say about sin and salvation. Clear your afternoon and invite some friends over. Invite the farmer. Invite that guy from the pulpit, if you’d like. Open a bottle of wine. Enjoy every moment of slicing the food, watching it transform in the pan, composing the plate as if you were painting your masterpiece. Revel in watching your friends enjoy what you’ve made. Cooking for only yourself? Leave the Souffer’s or Lean Cuisine to freezer burn and get out a pot and pan. Make yourself a three course dinner — after all, who deserves your love and respect more than yourself?

And then take it to the next level, and try growing some vegetables, keep some chickens and collect eggs if you’ve got room, buy a goat and try making cheese. Get your hands into the earth and see how your food grows. Pick a corn right off the stalk and eat it there, the life still pulsing through it.

I once heard the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Naht Hahn, tell a long story about sitting on a beach in France peeling an orange. Touching the peel, experiencing the scent, biting into the flesh. “An orange, dear friends,” he said, “is nothing less than a miracle.”

As I write this, I am reminded of what’s so important about cooking to me, which is that it reminds me what life is all about. Passion, love, laughter, sharing, family and friends, kindness, generosity, being absolutely in the moment. All the ingredients of a meal shared together. All the ingredients of a life well lived.

Pomodoro!

10 lbs of heirloom tomatoes on the stove, slowly transforming into sauce

My friend Debra left a message last night:

“Hi. I’ve got a cooking question. I want to make a pomodoro and I’m not sure what to do with the tomatoes. Do I blanch them first and peel them, or do I just chop them up and put them in the pan? Well, you’re not there… so I guess I’ll just have to figure it out myself. Bye!”

Fresh local tomatoes are, in my humble opinion, the greatest treasure of the summer. There are big ones, tiny ones, tart ones, sweet ones, orange and yellow and green and purple ones, some that look like teardrops and others that look like ox hearts. Perhaps, like me, you grow them yourself. I hope, unlike me, you have more than you can use and share with friends. Unlike giant zucchini, tomatoes are always a welcome gift.

Like gazpacho, a simple pasta pomodoro is a seasonal dish that highlights tomatoes at their best. Don’t do too much to this dish, and don’t make it in January. It will be utterly unlike the metallic, chemically tasting pomodoro you’ve ordered at Olive Garden. Better, even, than your favorite jar tomato sauce from Trader Joe’s.

Now back to Debra’s question — to blanch and peel or chop up — I would do neither. I prefer an even simpler method. I throw tomatoes in the blender, give them a rough puree, and set them to a simmer in a pan with olive oil and a bit of crushed garlic. You could add some chopped up tomatoes if you like chunks. I like it silkier. It’s kind of a philosophic question: How do you like your peanut butter — chunky or smooth? Note: skinny starlets and yoga students will love this dish.

Serves 2 (double for 4, etc.)

Pasta Pomodoro

1/2 lb dried pasta (I prefer spaghetti for this, but you can use your favorite dried pasta. Potato gnocchi also goes well with this preparation.)
2 large very ripe tomatoes (or 4 smaller tomatoes or a whole bunch of cherry tomatoes)
3 large garlic cloves, smashed
1/4 cup extra virgin olive, plus extra for drizzling
5 large basil leaves
freshly grated parmesan Reggiano (not the stuff in the green tube)
tsp crushed red pepper
sea salt

Cook the pasta in a large pot of salted water. (Please do not waste your olive oil by putting olive oil in the water.) Add spaghetti or pasta and cook until al dente. While the pasta is cooking, puree the tomatoes in the blender for about 10 seconds, more if you want a smoother sauce. Place tomatoes in a large pan over medium heat with olive oil and crushed garlic. Salt liberally to taste. (When you taste the sauce, it should taste a bit salty… it will disperse in the noodles.)

Stack the basil leaves, roll them up tightly like a carpet and then mince tightly to create a chiffonade.

When the pasta is all dente, use tongs to transfer it directly from the pasta water into the tomato sauce, which should have thickened some. (It’s good if some of the pasta water makes it into the sauce — the starches in the water will help bind the sauce to the pasta.) Turn heat to high and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, tossing frequently, until the pasta is well covered with sauce. Remove from heat.

Plate pasta between two plates, drizzle each with a little additional olive oil, then top each with a sprinkle of sea salt, a sprinkle of crushed red pepper, some freshly grated parmesan and the basil chiffonade. Serve!

(Note: pork lovers could include a crumbled up pork sausage to the sauce while it’s cooking. Seafood lovers might add 8 or 10 anchovy filets, and reduce the salt.)

Wine suggestion: a medium bodied, Italian-style red such as sangiovese or zinfandel.

Aloha at Home, Wherever You May Be

Growing up in Southern California, my family would go to Maui a couple times a year. And I developed a love for Hawaiian food. There’s something both comforting and essential about digging into teriyaki chicken thighs or Korean short ribs draining sweet soy goodness all over a mound of overcooked white rice, the toothsome chew of mayonnaisey macaroni salad, the tangy interplay of tomato, onion and lomi lomi salmon, and lots of fresh tropical fruit to clear the palate.

It’s hot and muggy in Topanga today. Tonight my family is eating Hawaiian. Just cuz I’m in a mood. I’ll put on iTunes and stream some traditional Hawaiian music — I like KKCR community radio out of Hanalei, Kauai … they sometimes speak Hawaiian, and even the commercials are relaxing, or AM 940 Hawaii. Maybe I’ll mix some fruity tropical rum drinks, or maybe just cold lager.  That’s how we haoles roll when we’re gettin’ our aloha on.

Here’s what we’re eating. Wanna join us on the islands? It’s fun and the kids will love it, especially if they’ve been to Hawaii. Just scroll down for the recipes, and mahalo

Teriyaki chicken, mac salad, rice and lomi lomi salmon, fresh fruit, lau lau (pork and fish cooked in taro leaves)

Serves 4, including the keiki (lil’ ones).

Hawaiian Dinner
You can make the macaroni salad, rice and lomi lomi salmon well ahead, so all you’re cooking at dinner time is the chicken. If you want to have a Hawaiian dinner party, increase the amount accordingly. (Double for eight people, etc.)

Teriyaki Chicken

1 1/2 lb skinless, boneless chicken breasts (you can also use the same amount of thinly sliced beef short ribs on the bone — Korean style — for a meat dinner)
1 thumb-sized piece fresh ginger, grated
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup low sodium soy sauce
2 tbsp ginger

Grate ginger with a cheese grater or zester. Place into large bowl, add soy sauce, onion and sugar, stir together and let sit for 5 minutes. Toss chicken in mixture, and let marinate for a couple hours in the fridge. Turn the grill onto high heat, let it get nice and hot, and grill chicken for about 5 minutes each side, until golden and brown. Spoon extra marinade and onions on as you cook. You can keep warm in a 200-degree oven while you plate the other stuff. Before serving, slice each thigh across the grain with a very sharp knife into 3 or 4 pieces.

Lomi Lomi Salmon

1/3 pound very fresh salmon, chopped into dice and salted
1 very ripe tomato
1/4 cup chopped sweet onion
sprinkle Japanese togarashi pepper (if you’ve got it)

Sprinkle about half a teaspoon of salt on your chopped salmon about an hour before you pull the dish together. After the hour, toss the salmon with the onion, tomato and pepper. Taste to see if it is salty enough. Cover and place in fridge until ready to use.

Island Macaroni Salad

1 cup dried macaroni, cooked to al dente
2 heaping tbsp mayonnaise (about 1/4 cup)
1/4 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup chopped sweet onion
2 tbsp chopped Italian parsley
dash of soy sauce
salt & pepper

Cook your macaroni until al dente and drain. Toss with a little olive oil and let cool. Once the macaroni is cool, toss in a bowl with the celery, onion, parsley and soy sauce. Add salt and pepper to taste, cover and place in the fridge until you’re ready to serve. (Note: you could give this an Asian touch with a dash of sesame oil, some sliced sugar snap peas and a bit of minced cilantro. Although I think, why mess with simple perfection?)

Rice and fruit

Steam some long grain rice according to directions well before hand (give it an extra bit of water and an extra 2 or 3 minutes on the stove), and leave sitting covered until ready to eat. It’s okay to serve it at room temperature. Slice up plenty of fresh pineapple, mango, banana, guava or other Hawaiian fruits.

To serve:

Spoon a big scoop of rice and mac salad on each plate, place some sliced teriyaki chicken next to the rice, and a bit of lomi lomi salmon next to that.

Good Gadget, Bad Gadget Pt. 1

I get several emails a week from Sur la Table and Williams-Sonoma, usually trying to sell me something I don’t want or need. Many of the gadgets people invent for the kitchen are downright silly — created by those with too much time on their hands. Here are some gadgets you definitely DON’T need in your kitchen — followed by a few you do!

A corn peeler. How often do you peel corn?

More

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