31 May 2013
by scolgin
in Food, Markets & Stores
Tags: farmer's market, farming, Gean family, Harry Iwamoto, Harry's Berries, Oxnard, Santa Monica farmer's market, Sauternes, strawberries
You know a product is good when it costs at least twice as much as the competition, and yet people are lining up to purchase it. That is the case with strawberries from Harry’s Berries.
Harry’s Berries strawberries with fresh cream
I’ll often pass by Harry’s when I’m at the Farmer’s Market, heading instead for the less expensive berries. And while in peak season there may be the odd berry here or there that tastes as good as Harry’s, you’re taking your chances. Then I wonder why I don’t buy the best berries every time — they’re certainly worth the extra $5 to $10 dollars per three pack. And I regularly — and happily — drop $10 on four ounces of sea urchin that are practically gone before I even open the package. More
07 Aug 2012
by scolgin
in Markets & Stores, On the Road
Tags: Columbia Gorge, Full Sail Ale, Joel Gott, Lake Oswego, morels, New Seasons, Oregon, Portland, Salt & Straw, Zupan's
I enjoy blogging from places other than home. Not merely getting ideas while I’m traveling, but actually writing while I’m there, letting place influence my musings much the way terroir does a grape.
Bounty of the Northwest — French-style farm butter, heritage pig bacon, Sunset Bay cheese, hazelnuts, local charcuterie, fava beans, tomahawk ribeye and wild mushrooms
My blog buddy, Rachel, has a lovely blog about her experiment to eat only food grown or sourced near to her home in Delaware. An admirable pursuit, and one I enjoy reading about and make some effort to emulate at home. It’s much easier, however, when I am traveling, particularly if I have access to a kitchen. More
24 Apr 2012
by scolgin
in Markets & Stores, Observations, Recipes
Tags: food, grits, Indian food, markets, palak paneer, paratha, recipe, red snapper, Santa Monica, Trader Joe's
Sometimes I feel like eating a cuisine I’m not particularly good at, or don’t have the cupboard resources to roll out on a dime. Chinese food is one example — if I ever want to feel inadequate as a cook, I’ll try to make a Chinese dinner. Same with Indian. I can could a reasonably good generic curry, but am lacking the encyclopedic pantry of spices and unusual ingredients to go much further. Fortunately, my cravings for either of these two cuisines is rare, and when need strikes I can usually survive on the occasional take out. I’m mostly satisfied with my repertoire, and will leave the meins and masalas to the experts. Or, I eat Trader Joe’s.
Palak paneer with Malabari paratha from TJ's
I get annoyed when I meet people from the East Coast who ask whether we have Trader Joe’s on the West Coast. More
13 Mar 2012
by scolgin
in Markets & Stores, Recipes, Starlets, Yoga Students & Quinoa (stories)
Tags: Beverly Hills, Iran, Iranian cooking, Persian cuisine, San Fernando Valley, Tehran, Tehrangeles
In the waning years of my pre-pubescent childhood in the quiet and sunny westlands of suburban Los Angeles, a strange thing happened. At 11 or 12, I was only vaguely aware of geopolitical events happening in far away places. But what I did know was that there was quite suddenly a lot more Middle Eastern people in my sphere than there had been the year before.
Why Iranians fleeing the Islamic Revolution wound up in the west San Fernando Valley I would never figure out. But arrive they did, evidenced by the abrupt abundance of columns and marble lions in front of 1950s ranch-style houses. Not your traditional poor huddled immigrants, they purchased liquor stores, dentistry offices and Italian restaurants, and by way of integration took western names. My friend, Gary, worked at the neighborhood liquor store — Greene’s Liquor — recently sold by old Mr. Greene to a pair of 30-something brothers, “Jock” and “Ben.” (“Your name’s not really Jock, is it??” I remember asking him once.) More
29 Nov 2011
by scolgin
in Markets & Stores, Observations, Recipes
Tags: chili peppers, garlic, Los Agaves, Lotería Grill, Poquito Mas, salsa, Sanchez Carniceria, Scoville, tomatillo, tomato
I think I’ve got salsa running through my veins. My two oldest brothers — twins, twenty years my elders — both married Mexican women. At my childhood home, our brick worker — Cisco — was practically a part of the family. I have formative memories of large, festive gatherings with mariachi and piñatas, huge bowls of crispy tortilla chips and dishes of smoky, addictive and dangerously hot salsa.
(l to r) Chipotle caramelized onion salsa, tomatillo arbol salsa, pan-roasted tomato garlic salsa
I would bravely dip a chip into the salsa — just a corner at first. Then half the chip, and eventually I would actually scoop. I would thrill at both the uncomfortable blazing tingle in my mouth, and at my increasing ability to handle it. And the abuelas would marvel at the Scoville heat tolerance of the little gringo. More
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