Cowboy Cooking in the Old West

When our friends, Donna and Markian, told me they were moving into trailers on a big piece of property on the last mountain before you get to the sea, my mind immediately went in one direction: chuckwagon!

The compound

The compound (“chuckwagon” cooking area at center)

While not the height of culinary sophistication, chuckwagon cooking has always had some appeal to me. There’s something undeniably romantic about the image of sitting around a campfire in the open air, a steak sizzling in a pan, beans simmering, a kettle of crummy cowboy coffee burning. I like the elemental quality of the cuisine, where a slice of grilled cow counts as a vegetable. Plus, I wanted people to call me “Cookie,” even if just for a day. More

Giving Jon a Second Look

My friend Jon has long served as comic relief for my blog. If my cheffy friends are the Shakespearean thespians, he is Falstaff, the bumbling kitchen clown. I like to post shots of his attempts to make himself dinner, or stories about his inviting his visiting parents over to our house for a meal.

A few nights back, we were invited to dinner at our friends the Tehranis, and Jon would be joining us. He called me beforehand. He wanted to know if he made his specialty, Coke-and-Jack Daniels sausage, if I would feature him on my blog again.

Jon, like a proud papa, and his sausages

Jon, like a proud papa, with his sausages

“The first time is free,” I said. “After that, you have to pay to be on it.” More

The Curious Case of the Szechuan Peppercorn

One of the strangest culinary experiences I’ve ever had was more than a decade ago, when our friend from Szechuan, Guonan, invited us over for Szechuan hot pot.

IMG_3397

Among the more unusual items on the condiment plate that evening as we sat on the floor around a bubbling pot on the coffee table of her Marina del Rey apartment, gazing out at the twinkling lights of the boats in the harbor, was duck tongues. More

The Oldest Spice

A few weeks ago, I was making choucroute, a German-influenced French specialty of the Alsace region, when I realized I didn’t have any juniper berries. (After all, who has juniper berries?) I emailed pal Ernie, who would be joining us for dinner that night to see if he might have some, in addition to caraway seeds and whole clove.

“I have caraway seeds,” he replied, “But I have no idea how old they are. They’ve been in here a long time.”

Old spices from my spice drawer (l to r): Chinese powdered ginger, herbes de Provence (who ever uses herbes de Provence!??), something so old I don't even know what it is, some Jamaican curry a friend brought me back from Jamaica when we were in our 20s, and ancient saffron from my dad's friend Pierre

Old spices from my spice drawer (l to r): Chinese powdered ginger, herbes de Provence, something so old I don’t even know what it is, some Jamaican curry a friend brought me back from Jamaica when we were in our 20s, and ancient saffron from my dad’s friend Pierre

I then queried neighbors Chris and Glennis to see if they had any juniper berries, and was pleased when Chris responded that they did. More

Fab Fabada!

Our friends, Dan and Nonie, spent part of last summer in Spain. (Or was it the summer before? Time flies…) Good friends that they are, they were thinking of us as they browsed that wonderful country’s grocery stores and open markets. And they brought us back a large shrink-wrapped plastic package containing dried white beans and several pork products — fabada Asturiana.

Beans, salt pork & blood sausage on the stove

Beans, salt pork & blood sausage on the stove

They bought one for themselves as well, and invited us over to sample it. They threw everything into a pot of water, covered it, and let it simmer for a few hours until the beans had assumed the orange of pimentón from the chorizo and general porkiness from that and the morcilla blood sausage and salt pork also included in the package. More

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