Plum and Ricotta Crostini

September 13, 2017 French

By Sierra French-Myerson

Snacks. Wine. Conversation. Connection. Boom!

Booming* is weird. It’s a new adventure for me. Those of you not exploring the world of app dating might not understand “The Boom”. I barely do, but I’m trying. I’m trying hard. Trying hard to be open. Trying hard to think outside of the optimal “meet cute” in the produce section of a grocery store. Trying hard to date. Trying hard to date through my phone. It’s bizarre so far, to say the least…

I’m also not a tech / computer driven person. So, “virtually” meeting people has been a rapid adjustment for me. But…deep breath, take a pause…I’M BEING OPEN. It’s just especially weird for me because it feels like a perverse video game. You look at a picture. “He’s attractive.” So, you swipe right. BOOM! A connection is made. What does that mean?? He liked your picture too? OH MY GOSH, is it meant to be? IT can’t be that easy. But, ugh, I’m being “open” so, now, I will have a ton of awkward blind date-like app text message conversations with this man. Uh oh…

But, I’m ready for it, and it’s just a beginning. Sure, the beginning can be the hardest part. What do we talk about? I don’t care about rock climbing, but I do like tennis. I see that you are 7.6 miles away. Where do you live? Culver City…cool I say. “Where do you live?”, he asks. “East”, I say. And, then, radio silence. Really, that’s how specific we’ve gotten? In a city that stretches and reaches so far. And, where the biggest (certainly my biggest complaint) about meeting people is that we’re wide-spread. We’re in our cars. We don’t randomly meet. Especially, if we’re not 23 and regularly going to bars. So, 7.6 miles is really a deal breaker?

Therefore, I “app text” pause on this guy, and, keep swiping. I’M BEING OPEN. Because, I want to have wine and snacks and conversation with someone compelling and exciting and attractive…to me. And, ultimately have “that” connection…I want my “the one” BOOM. And, as much as I’d like it to manifest itself in a classic and authentic romantic comedy style scenario, I’m going to commit to giving this app dating a chance.

I want to make the snacks for someone. “Our” little tastes and treats that we eat while we get to know one another. That I make again once we know we like each other. And, then again, once we know that we love each other.

I will say this now…if, I actually end up with someone through this world-wide-webness, I will have fireworks at our wedding…ideally, simply just sparklers…at our own table…as an homage…BOOM!!

*To BOOM is to Bumble

Plum & Ricotta Crostini

What you'll need:

A loaf of Ciabatta, or other good quality fresh bread, sliced to 1/4 inch thick
2 different varietals of plums (I used both Dapple Dandy and Black Beauty, to offset tart and sweet)
Fresh whole milk ricotta cheese
Good olive oil
Salt & Pepper

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350. Arrange bread slices on large rimmed baking sheet. Generously drizzle with olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Bake until golden, 15 - 20 minutes. Let cool completely.

Meanwhile, slice / quarter plums. There is no right or wrong here.

Once, crostini is cool, heavily spread each slice with ricotta. Drizzle with olive oil. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper. Lay plum slices and segments however your heart desires; casually or with strong intention (just like dating). Drizzle plums with olive oil, and then again, season with salt and pepper.

And, keep your fingers crossed for a BOOM!

Frittata

August 31, 2017 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Do yourself a favor...Take time to make brunch at least once this coming weekend. Let if be uncomplicated. Let it be fun. Let it be easy. Let it be long. Eat. Talk. Laugh. Eat. Reflect. Breathe. Eat. Laugh. Repeat.

In our ever-growing complicated times, I'm finding myself having to remember to just stop and breathe more frequently. Shut down and breathe. 1,2,3...ok.

Throwing together brunch has become especially important to me for this reason. It is an almost essential part of my Sunday. I ritually go to the farmer's market in the morning, and then I keep it simple. Nothing grand.

A frittata. Simple salads. No fuss vegetables and fruit that I’ve gotten at the market. Sliced, olive oil, salt, pepper, platter. Whatever is around. No stress. Take your time.

Brunch is intended to be informal. Frankly, it doesn’t even require cooking if that’s not in your “at ease” vision of the day. Bread, cheese, tomatoes, fruit…brunch!

Brunch can even be a meditation of sorts. Morning focus and breathing and ease of mind with no pressure to deliver anything other than food for friends and family. The breathing even comes back naturally.

Again, I encourage you to grant yourself the time to enjoy an effortless brunch at least once on the weekends…I promise it will help guide you into the poundings that these recents weeks seem to continue to deliver. And, during the week while waiting in line, or on hold, or in traffic, turn down the news for just a minute and repeat the new mantra…Eat. Talk. Laugh. Eat. Reflect. Breathe. Eat. Laugh…before you know it, it will be time for brunch again.

Frittata with Caramelized Onions and Boursin Cheese

What you'll need:

2 Tbs olive oil, divided
1 medium onion (white, yellow, or red), halved and thinly sliced
12 large eggs
1/2 cup whole milk*
2 Tbs. chopped chives
2 Tbs. chopped Italian Parsley
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 package Boursin Cheese
Salt & Pepper

*The key to the perfect frittata is the addition of the dairy. For every dozen eggs, add 1/2 cup of full-fat dairy…whole milk, creme fraiche, heavy cream, yogurt are all good options.

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350. Heat 1 Tb olive oil in an ovenproof skillet over medium heat. Add onions; stirring often. Lower heat if onions start to brown too quickly. Cook until onions take on a nice golden color.

Meanwhile, whisk eggs, milk, Parmesan, chives and parsley. Season with salt and pepper.

Turn heat up to medium-high and add remaining Tb. of olive oil. Pour the egg mixture over the onions. Cook the frittata without stirring for 5 minutes until edges start to set.

Dollop Boursin over the eggs. Transfer skillet to oven. Bake until set, 25-30 minutes. Definitely don’t want to over cook the frittata, so air on the safe side and take it out 5 minutes early to double check if it’s done.

Transfer to platter, slice. Can be served warm or at room temperature.

Everyday Whole Grains; Part 2

April 25, 2016 Stephanie Farrar

By Sierra French Myerson

As Steph recounted recently, French & Farrar had a wonderful day in the kitchen with Ann Taylor Pittman, executive editor of Cooking Light Magazine a few weeks ago. She joined us at Steph’s house on a Sunday morning to cook a few recipes from her gorgeous and enlightening new cookbook, Everyday Whole Grains. We had a blast. With no pressure to feed a waiting party of people, the three of us were able to just casually cook, swap stories, and enjoy ourselves. The day really resonated with me. Steph and I had never met Ann. We loved her cookbook and aesthetic taste, so we imagined our general sensibilities would act as a common ground and comfort to our afternoon with her. “Hi, so nice to finally meet you. Let’s make salmon.” It could have been awkward and unnatural but, it wasn’t…at all.

Within a few minutes, we were fluidly chatting about everything, reaching way beyond culinary talk. Food may have acted as the ice breaker, but we actually didn’t need it. Before we knew it, we were laughing and gabbing our way through four of Ann’s recipes. We started with her Buckwheat Hot Cereal around which we set up a sweet and savory topping bar. It was so simple, satisfying, and adaptable. Then, we made the Kamut Salad with Roasted Cauliflower and Avocado. It was too delicious to breeze through to the next recipe, so we poured some wine, sat down, and relaxed over our perfect Sunday lunch fare.

Next up, we put together Ann’s Crunchy Zucchini Chips. Inspired by fried zucchini, but way better, way crunchier, and way healthier, they are truly an ultimate snack or bbq side dish, and beyond easy to make. We whipped up a simple aioli, and couldn’t help ourselves from dipping and grazing on them throughout the rest of the afternoon.

Having gone from breakfast to lunch to snack-time, the Crispy Herbed Salmon was a prime “dinner” choice as our fourth recipe from Ann’s book for the day. So flavorful and crispy, it is an ultimate dish to keep in your go-to reservoir. The crispy bulgar that coats the salmon is insanely good. I could probably eat it sprinkled on just about anything. Ann’s recipes are so versatile too. I will definitely be trying out the crispy bulgar on other fish and proteins.

As the three of us stood around the kitchen island nibbling on the salmon and gushing about the lovely day, I was struck by how at ease I felt. Cooking with Steph is always a favorite time for me. We are so seamless together, it makes it even that much more fun. Life can obviously get in the way of days like this, but that Sunday acted as a wonderful reminder to me about the heart of French & Farrar. We love cooking and hanging in a kitchen together, taking inspiration from others, and never taking it too seriously. And, Ann was a fantastic addition.

Crunchy Zucchini Chips

Recipe from Ann Taylor Pittman’s Everyday Whole Grains

What you’ll need:

1/3 cup whole-wheat panko
1 oz. Parmesan cheese, finely grated (about 1/4 cup)
3 Tbs. uncooked amaranth
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1/4 tsp. kosher salt
1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
12 oz. zucchini, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices
1 Tb. olive oil
Cooking spray

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425.

Combine first 6 ingredients in a shallow dish. Combine zucchini and oil in a large bowl; toss well to coat. Dredge zucchini in panko mixture, pressing gently to adhere. Place coated slices on an ovenproof wire rack coated with cooking spray; place rack on a baking sheet or jelly-roll pan. Bake at 425 for 26 minutes or until browned and crisp. Serve immediately.

Serves 4 (serving size: 8-10 chips).

Crispy Herbed Salmon

Recipe from Ann Taylor Pittman’s Everyday Whole Grains

What you’ll need:

3/4 cup Crunchy Fried Bulgar (recipe below)
2 Tbs. chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
2 Tbs. chopped fresh chives
3 Tbs. canola mayonnaise
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
Cooking spray
3/8 tsp. kosher salt
1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425.

Combine first 3 ingredients in a small bowl, tossing well.

Combine mayonnaise and mustard in a small bowl, stirring well. Arrange fish on a baking sheet coated with cooking spray. Sprinkle fish evenly with salt and pepper; spread mayonnaise mixture evenly over fish. Carefully pat Crunchy Fried Bulgur mixture evenly over fish. Bake at 425 for 10 to 12 minutes or until desired degree of doneness.

Serves 4.

Crunchy Fried Bulgar

Recipe from Ann Taylor Pittman’s Everyday Whole Grains

What you’ll need:

3 cups cooked bulgar
6 cups canola oil or peanut oil

Directions:

Line a jelly-roll pan with several layers of paper towels. Spread cooked grains out into a thin layer on paper towels. Let stand 1 to 2 hours to dry out surface moisture, stirring grains occasionally.

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven until thermometer submerged in oil registers 375. Do not use a smaller pot (moisture in the grains will cause the oil to bubble up vigorously). Add 1/2 cup cooked grains to oil; do not add more than this, or oil may bubble over. Cook 4 to 5 minutes or until grains are browned and crisp; do not allow temperature of oil to drop below 350 degrees. Remove fried grains from pan with a fine wire mesh ladle; drain on paper towels. Repeat procedure with remaining grains, 1/2 cup at a time.

Makes about 3 cups.

Everyday Whole Grains; Part 1

April 11, 2016 Stephanie Farrar

By Steph Farrar

One half of French and Farrar, me ... Steph ... is 5 days into an elimination diet called the Whole30. Two days ago, day 3, I was feeling strangely hungover and sluggish after wiping all traces of sugar, grains, dairy and alcohol from my system. My first thought upon waking up that day was, "what the hell am I doing?" and "I didn't drink last night, did I?" and "isn't this cleanse supposed to make me feel better?" Then I channeled an incredible Sunday, two weeks ago, where I indulged in delicious, healthy whole grains, drank Rose' and played in the kitchen with friends. Only 25 more days to go, and until then, I'll reminisce.

Sierra and I had the pleasure of hanging in my kitchen with the lovely Ann Taylor Pittman, executive editor of Cooking Light Magazine. She visited to cook a few recipes with us from her excellent, beautifully composed, and informative new cookbook Everyday Whole Grains.

Ann, Sierra and I immediately jumped into getting to know each other while sharing knives and swapping stories. You can never really tell how well you might or might not get along with someone you've never met, but after mere minutes in the kitchen together, a friendship was born. Born over delicious, clean food. The first recipe is a simple Hot Buckwheat Cereal. In Ann's book she points to the savory option. We decided to throw in a sweet version, which makes for a great brunch bar, when adding fresh berries, honey and/or maple syrup. You could even add brown sugar and a little cream if you wanted to get crazy (that sounds so good to me right now).

Flynn liked it too. He literally ate the entire bowl.

Next we got really excited to stink up my house with the smell of roasted cauliflower. Tip: if you're ever having company, I suggest baking something like brownies or cookies... or even sautéing onions and garlic for that "wow, it smells so good in here" entrance. With the cauliflower, folks will enter to the sweet smell of dirty socks. Or feet. Or simply the smell of cauliflower.

This is almost the exact moment I cracked open a bottle of Rioja Rose'. We didn't even need an icebreaker, but for an afternoon hanging in the kitchen, without the stress of serving anyone, Rose' was the perfect complement.

The cauliflower is roasted, the berries are cooked and pat dry and now covered in a bit of tahini dressing. It all comes together beautifully. This is one of the easiest and tastiest salads I've ever eaten. One I will make often. Once I can eat damn grains again. So May it is!

Thanks to sweet Ann for joining us in the kitchen and teaching us such yummy recipes. And to Zoe and Harry for helping out with photos and chasing Flynn around while we dined, dished and drank!

Savory and Sweet Buckwheat Hot Cereal

Recipes from Ann Taylor Pittman's Everyday Whole Grains

Ingredients:

2/3 cup cooked creamy buckwheat hot cereal
1 center-but bacon slice, cooked and crumbled
2 tbsp. reduced fat shredded cheddar cheese
2 tbsp chopped tomato
slivered jalapeno pepper
1/2 cup mixed strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp maple syrup

Recipe:

Savory - Top cooked cereal with bacon, tomatoes, cheese, and jalapeños... add a pinch of salt and pepper if needed.

Sweet - Top cooked cereal with berries and honey or syrup.

Each serves 1

Kamut Salad with Roasted Cauliflower and Avocado

Ingredients:

3/4 cup uncooked Kamut berries
4 cups cauliflower florets
2 tbsp evoo, divided
Cooking spray
2 tbsp tahini
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp warm water
3/4 tsp Kosher salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 garlic clove, grated
2 1/2 ounces baby arugula
1 ripe, peeled avocado, thinly sliced

Recipe:

Preheat oven to 475 degrees.

Cook Kamut according to package directions. Drain and rinse with cold water. Drain again and spread evenly on paper towels to dry.

While Kamut cooks, combine cauliflower florets and 1 tbsp of oil on a foil-lined jelly-roll pan coated with cooking spray. Toss well to coat. Roast at 475 degrees for 15 minutes or until browned and crisp-tender.

Combine 1 tbsp oil, tahini, lemon juice, the warm water, 1/2 tsp salt, pepper, and garlic in a large bowl, stirring well with a whisk. Toss cauliflower with 1 tbsp of dressing. Add Kamut and arugula to bowl with remaining dressing, toss gently to coat.

Arrange 1 cup of Kamut mixture onto each of 4 plates; divide cauliflower and avocado evenly over servings. Sprinkle avocado with 1/4 tsp salt.

Serves 4

Roasted Beets with Burrata and Blood Orange Vinaigrette

February 11, 2016 French

By Sierra French Myerson

You know how hearing a certain song can transport you back in time? Instantly, you’re in the 7th grade, or on a family vacation, or having you’re first kiss all over again. We produce our own life’s soundtracks through our experiences. Food has that same power of time travel for me. A particular taste, smell, or texture can immediately conjure a memory and send me somewhere else. The pop of a warm, freshly picked cherry tomato and I’m 5 years old in the backyard with my mom and our vegetable garden. The smell of freshly caught grilled fish happily delivers me to Spain in the summer I travelled there after 9th grade. The tender chew of octopus summons the first time I had sushi (other than a cucumber roll) with my dad.

Beets play a funny role in my food-memory bank. I grew up in “the healthy house”. There were no pizza-bagels for me at snack-time. A bowl of frozen organic fruit was the after-school treat at my house. We had the best back yard in town, and everyone still wanted to have play-dates at Caroline’s or Ali’s. It didn’t matter that one’s mom was strict or that the other’s brothers would rough-house us, they had epic junk food pantries.

My mom was clearly ahead of her time in the food shopping department (and in other of life’s departments, as well), and it ultimately, thankfully, rubbed off on me. We shopped at the only two health food stores in L.A. back then. Now, there is one on every other block. Organic was a no-brainer to her before it was really accessible. Now, organic shaming seems to be common practice among new parents. If only I could time warp young Caroline and Ali to my house for a play-date in 2016, they would be jealous of my pantry and all of it’s healthy and en vogue snacks. Sesame crackers. Check. Veggie chips. Yep. Almond butter. Second shelf.

So, needless to say, beets were around while I was growing up. And, their earthy flavor instantaneously takes me back to being 4 years old at The Source restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. At the time, The Source was probably the only organic vegetarian restaurant in town. So, naturally, it was pretty much the only restaurant at which we ate out. I can vividly remember sitting in a booster seat eating tofu and sipping on freshly squeezed watermelon juice (my version of candy). My mom would always order an enormous salad and feed me some of her veggies. But, the raw julienned beets really stuck to my taste buds. They tasted like sweet dirt, and I enjoyed it.

Let cool and then the skins will just slip off

It was during one of these dinners at The Source, while I nibbled beets and gulped down my watermelon juice, that my mom went into labor with my sister. The excitement of the actual arrival of my new sibling was beyond thrilling. I can recall it like it was yesterday. Therefore, delightedly, beets always blast me with a quick burst of joy, as I remember getting to finally meet my new forever friend and sister.

*Side note: Thank goodness I wasn’t eating a gross processed soggy bagel-pizza when one of the greatest moments of my life occurred.

Roasted Beets with Burrata and Blood Orange Vinaigrette

What you’ll need:

1 bunch of beets (about 5), well scrubbed (the smaller beets are sweeter)
1 blood orange, juiced
1-2 tbsp
red wine vinegar
6-8 basil leaves, torn
1/4 cup of olive oil
1-2 balls of fresh burrata
Sea salt, to taste
Freshly ground pepper, to taste

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Wrap 2-3 beets, depending on size, in foil. Place on a baking sheet. Roast beets for 45 mins to 1 hours, until they are soft to the touch. Cool beets in foil packets until they are cool to the touch, and peel off the skins.

While the beets are roasting, make the vinaigrette. In a small bowl, whisk together the blood orange juice, red wine vinegar, and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.

Quarter the beets, or cut in eighths, depending on size. Toss beets in the vinaigrette. Let them marinate until you are ready to plate and serve. They’ll just continue to soak up the dressing, so no rush.

Center the burrata on your platter. Spoon the beets around it. Drizzle olive oil over the burrata. Sprinkle basil over the dish. Finish with a pinch of sea salt.

Lemon Yogurt Cake

January 26, 2016 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Well, we’ve almost made it through the first month of the new year. The holidays are over and done with. Champagne and Auld Lang Syne are a distant memory once steeped with positivity and eager foresight. And now, for most, the resolutions are beginning to teeter. The work-outs are getting shorter. The carbs are in full re-entry mode. Self-doubt is rearing its ugly head.

I say, “Screw that!”.

At the end of every year, we pressure ourselves to resolve to change things about ourselves in the new year. The misstep in that, for me, is that we’re saying that something is broken and needs to be fixed. I mean, sure, we all have things we’d like to adjust in our bodies and lives, but the stress of “the resolution” can’t be good for the cause. Aren’t we just setting ourselves up for the fall?

I personally made an adjustment this time around. After a year of conscious hard work within myself, I wasn’t about to trip it all up with some invisible, yet forced, vow to lose 10 pounds or regularly organize my piles of paperwork or always put my laundry away as soon as I’ve folded it. All worthy goals to work on if the modification will make me happier. But, rather than pledging to do something that will inevitably make me feel guilty if I’m unsuccessful at it within the set timeline, I’m working on intentions. Ideas, notions, hopes, guidelines. No hard and fast rules or official goal weights, just intentions. Broad strokes in life.

The end-game for me has to be happiness and contentment. Granted, this hasn't always been the easiest category for me to fulfill for myself. It’s one of my intentions that is a constant work in progress. Figuring out how to just be ok with it all can be tricky. What I’ve learned for myself, is that sometimes just sitting with “it” for a while helps me be ok with “it” (whatever “it” is).

Once I've come to terms with why I’m uncomfortable or unhappy, I’ve noticed that it seems to naturally works itself out. Take this lemon yogurt cake, for instance. A lot of you have a wicked sweet tooth, and may have resolved to cut out treats all together in the new year. Don’t be crazy. If it’s something you enjoy, just figure out a way to easily manage it for yourself. This recipe calls for yogurt and a little bit of vegetable oil, instead of the loads of butter in most cakes. And, truly, there is no trade out in flavor. In fact, I prefer the added tartness and light texture to this recipe over others, so far. Obviously, don’t go nuts and eat the whole loaf. But, have an occasional slice, and let yourself enjoy it. “It” is ok.

Perhaps, moderation is the best resolution of all.

Pour the lemon syrup over the warm cake and let cool

Lemon Yogurt Cake

Thank you Barefoot Contessa (with slight adjustments for added lemon punch)

What you’ll need:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
1 1/3 cups sugar, divided
3 extra-large eggs
2 Tbs. lemon zest (2 - 3 lemons)
1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

For the glaze:

1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 Tbs. freshly squeezed lemon juice

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8 1/2 to 9-inch loaf pan.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt into one bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, lemon zest, and vanilla. Slowly whisk the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. With a rubber spatula, fold the vegetable oil into the batter, making sure it’s all incorporated. Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake for about 50 minutes, or until a cake tester placed in the center of the cake comes out clean.

Meanwhile, cook the 1/3 cup lemon juice and remaining 1/3 cup sugar in a small pan until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is clear. Set aside.

When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Then, carefully remove it from the pan and place it on a baking rack over a sheet pan. While the cake is still warm, pour the lemon-sugar syrup mixture over the cake and allow it to soak in. Cool completely.

For the glaze, combine the confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice and pour over the cake.

Apple Pie

October 7, 2015 French

By Sierra French Myerson

The weirdest thing happened… I missed a season. Seriously. It vanished. First came Spring then came Autumn. Summer vaporized into a vortex.

Perhaps it was the oppressive heat that started way too early (and still hasn’t gone away) and may have paralyzed a part of my cortex? I’m sure that played a part in the disappearance. It’s certainly no secret that I don’t thrive in extreme weather.

Conceivably, and more likely, the seasonal vanishing is largely in part to great anticipation, both professionally and personally. In expectation of a monumental and exciting fall and winter, I may have in fact willed the summer to quickly sneak right through my personal time line.

Professionally, French & Farrar has been working its butt off on another project that we cannot wait to share. It encapsulates all that we love and inspires us. To say that I’m living on the edge of my seat to get it off the ground and flying is an understatement. Truly, I can hardly wait. Evaporated-summer mystery “Part A” solved.

I believe mystery “Part B” is due to an excitement I’ve only just begun to understand. My little sister is having a baby. I’m going to be an auntie. The love I have for someone I have yet to meet is overwhelming. The awe I feel towards my sister as I watch her become a mother is beyond heartening. My new best friend is set to arrive around Thanksgiving.

The timing of his or her debut is apropos to say the least. Thanksgiving is my holiday of choice and sentiment. Friends and family and food together with no other intention than to be together enjoying food and one another.

My sister is the pie maker of the family. At our annual “come one, come all” Turkey Day dinner, I do the turkeys and sides, my mom does her famous dressing and sweet potatoes, and my sister satisfies our post-pig out sweet tooth. In anticipation of her impending and significant nesting period, I thought I should hone my pie making skills. Thanksgiving needs apple pie, and no better way to capture the attitude of Thanksgiving than to pass on a tradition. And, on the off chance that the baby is arriving as the turkey is coming out of the oven, my apple pies will be ready.

Classic Apple Pie

My ultimate crust recipe is courtesy of Cooks Illustrated. It never fails me.

What you'll need:

3 lbs. apples, about 6, cored and sliced(I like a mixture of sweet and tart, such as Gala and Granny Smith)
1/2 cup of sugar
2 Tbs. flour
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
2 Tbs. fresh squeezed orange juice
4 Tbs. cold butter, diced
1 egg yolk, for egg wash
3 tsp. water, for egg wash

Directions:

Prepare pie crust recipe according to directions. Roll out one pie crust disk and fit it into a 9 inch pie plate. Set in freezer.

Make the filling. Toss the apples, sugar, flour, spices, and orange juice. Spread apple mixture in prepared pie plate and dot with butter. Place back in freezer.

Meanwhile, roll out second pie disk. Place over apples. Fold overhang, and crimp edges as desired. (It’s an apple pie, it can look rustic. Might even taste better if it’s not perfect.)

Whisk egg yolk with water. Brush crust with egg wash. Slice top of crust in several places.

Bake for an hour to an hour and 10 minutes, or until crust is golden and and filling is bubbling. Let pie cool completely on a wire rack.

Greek Salad with Tomato-Water Vinaigrette

September 26, 2014 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Here’s the deal… I was spoiled rotten by a tremendous vacation to Greece this summer. It was truly life altering for many reasons. I was blessed enough to get a much needed escape. I thickened some very cherished friendships. I developed some sure-thing life-long new relationships. And, I fell in love with the Grecian way of life. It really is so transforming to get out of your constant.

I experienced the archipelago for a week aboard the epic Sir Winston Churchill, a spectacular sailboat. I told you I was spoiled rotten…truly killed with kindness by the generosity of old friends.

The color of the Aegean Sea is incomparable. The landscape of the islands is stunning. The food is delicious.

Greece is a family style country. They pass and plate and share. They take their time. It’s really a lovely way to appreciate the understated goodness that is Greek food.

In fact, one evening (night really…dinner doesn't happen until at least 10 o’clock), we went to a recommended restaurant on the island where we were docked. My fellow Americans had clearly not taken notice of the family style notion during our previous meals, and preceded to order “entrees” individually. Our confused waiter left the table and within seconds the chef appeared. He was bewildered by the number of duplicate requests of main dishes. Quickly, friends (whom had grown up spending the summers on the island) adjusted the order and set it straight. Then, slowly, large platters of deliciousness started to be shared around the table.

The mid-days while on The Churchill will forever resonate with me. We would anchor ship at a swim spot. Jump in the insanely beautiful water. Dry off in the sun. Pour a glass of wine. And, gradually, gather around the large dining table on deck. Me being me, I would position myself so that I could watch the chef prepare our lunch through the galley’s port hole. And, then, exquisite dishes of seafood or traditional fare would be served. Every day was something different and delightful.

Not a meal went by without some version of a Greek salad, which for anyone that knows me understands that this is a very good thing. It embraces two of my favorite things…peak in season tomatoes and cucumbers. The sweet, salty, tangy, crunchy, briny goodness of this effortless salad just makes me happy. It’s an ideal companion to any summer meal.

(Foodie Nation, keep your eyes open for Chef Kostas Papacharalampous. He’s going to be a big deal.)

Greek Salad with Tomato-Water Vinaigrette

What you’ll need:

2-3 ripe summer tomatoes
2-3 Persian or Japanese cucumbers (or 1/2 an English cucumber)
1/4-1/2 green bell pepper
1/4 red onion Greek olives
Good Greek feta cheese
Oregano (I prefer dried for this recipe, fresh is a little too strong)
Olive Oil
Red wine vinegar Sea salt

Directions:

There aren’t too many rules to this recipe. Really only five suggestions in order to make the salad in the way that the Greeks do it:

Cut the vegetables into big chunks. This is not a diced salad the way that we see it in deli cases in The States.

Top the salad with 1 or 2 big slices of feta, or several slabs if you’re making this for a crowd, generously sprinkled with oregano.

Serve the salad in a shallow bowl or serving dish. This is not a tossed salad so there is no need for a bowl here.

Be sure to have a big hunk of crusty bread to sop of the delicious juices that will accumulate.

Always use the freshest vegetables, obviously.

*Oh…treat yourself to a really good bottle of Greek olive oil! They’re wonderful.

Makes 2 servings. Easily multiplied.

Directions For The Tomato-Water Vinaigrette:

*Inspired by Michael Ruhlman’s Pasta with Tomato-Water

The salad is absolutely satisfying with a splash or two of red wine vinegar, a healthy drizzle of olive oil and a good sprinkle of sea salt. But, I’m such a junkie for the liquid goodness that pools beneath the veggies that I decided to play around with a quick tomato-water dressing to amplify the salad’s nectar.

Cut up the tomatoes first and season them generously with salt. Set them aside in a bowl. Allow them to sit for at least 15 minutes, and up to an hour. By now, a generous amount of tomato-water should have been drawn out of the tomatoes. Pour the tomatoes into a strainer over another small bowl. Add a hefty splash of red wine vinegar to the tomato-water. Whisk in olive oil.

Pour some of the vinaigrette into the base of the serving dish. Arrange the vegetables and olives. Remember, this is a rustic easy dish, don’t over think the presentation. Pour more vinaigrette over the vegetables. Place the oregano topped feta cheese on the vegetables. Generously drizzle with olive oil. Finish with a bit more sea salt, if desired.

My Kind of Baby Shower

May 13, 2014 Stephanie Farrar

By Steph Farrar

When someone truly special moves to a different city, and when that someone is a glue amongst her lady-friends, we all suffer a little. Enter Mrs. Kelly Mathis Hellenga. Boo hoo.

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of lending my in-laws home to a few lovely ladies to host a baby shower for Mrs. Kelly. I literally did nothing to contribute to the party except secure the location (get father-in-law out of the house asap) and fight with my daughter. And of course, during a brief lapse in toddler negotiations, thoroughly enjoy a perfect afternoon party. There has never been a better Bloody Mary and Mimosa bar to date.

Betsy provided the bar with, as you can see, a wild array of Bloody additions, pickled onions, olives, celery, lemon, lime, spices, hot sauces and the deal-sealer, beef jerky straws. On the adjacent table, mini sliders (served cold blew my mind yum), deviled eggs, crudite, peel-and-eat shrimp and an entirely stocked Mimosa and wine bar, fresh juices, and crispy breadsticks. This is just the bar folks. Not the meal.

Meghan's beautiful mason jar arrangements as party favors

Meghan chose the lovely navy tablecloths and beige napkins, arranged these striking mason jar floral favors, one for each party-goer to take home, picked the striped red straws to complement the color scheme, and managed the brawn to set it all up. Sierra, with the help of Meghan's grocery stop, whipped up food for forty all by herself. (I'll let Sierra share her post on the mind-blowing menu).

When someone as significant and special as Kelly bowed out of our L.A. female force, we took it hard. We're taking it hard. Clearly staking her mark on all our hearts, if it weren't for the baby growing in her belly, her man's life settled in Atlanta, and a desire to be closer to family in South Carolina (okay, okay) we would have forced her to stay. But dammit, that baby's being born and raised in the South. I ain't got no problem with that.

It seems as if pregnancy is something in the water lately, as I can claim six friends who are currently with-child. SIX! Three of them at this party! Sweet Kelly in red and purple...

The always lovely Claire in yellow. Jesse and Betsy, already mothers of young boys, I assume are thrilled to not be pregnant.

Sexy Shannon in black with TWIN boys. Insane, right?

Lola and Sarah and I enjoying some champagne, just before Vesper gave me a bloody lip, (kind of) accidentally. The joys of parenthood!

Back to the shower.

Then we have this tall drink of water, Laura, and her stunning daughter Ginger in the most inspired look of the day, carrying a diaper cake. If having children scares you, just channel these two... the kindest, gentlest angels of all.

Celebrating a new life coming into this world is a wonder. First time motherhood, while scary and daunting, is one of those rare jobs where endlessly thankless moments are made valuable in the smallest, tiniest smile. I can't wait for Kelly and Shannon to experience it for the first time, and Claire all over again. As soon as a milestone is met, another challenge awaits.

Saying you want to have children is one thing. Living it, marking your growth (and age) alongside these little people, dating yourself by their developments and breakthroughs is quite another. Then you get to put a Superman hat on a little boy amongst forty emotional, hormonal women. And you win.

What a day! Thanks to Pearly, my rock of a Mum-in-Law, for lending her beautiful home for this special day. Thanks to the Guest of Honor herself for these gorgeous pictures. Thanks to Sam, my husband, for taking my Ded-in-Law to golf so he didn't overhear the hen party and all our cackling.

Most importantly, thanks to Betsy for the Bloody Mary ideas, especially these.

Braised Artichokes

May 3, 2014 French

By Sierra French Myerson

I heart-a-chockes. Yep, nothing like one of my favorite vegetables to bring out my really good “dad jokes”. No shame here. “What did the green bean say to the eggplant?”…ok, no, not really.

But, seriously, artichokes make me happy. Some people don’t get them. “Too much work with not enough payoff.” I suppose I could understand that, what with the teeth scraping and inner beard cleaning. Eww that sounded inappropriately dirty. But, I dare these haters to try artichokes again in the height of their season; and, the braised way.

It was during a conversation with one of these artichoke bigots that it dawned on me…to braise. He kept saying that except for the heart the scoured bits from the leaves tasted like nothing more than the mayonnaise in which they were dipped. I clearly disagreed, but it got me to thinking about how to infuse flavor into the hearty veg pre-creamy sauce dunk.

This last winter, I officially became a braised chicken bitch. At least twice a week, I was browning and drowning my chicken thighs in lemon, wine, and aromatics, and it never got tired. Every last bit had exceptional flavor. Not a bland bite on the bone. Ok, then why not mimic this with my robust friend, the artichoke?

Well, a bright idea it was! (I know I wasn’t the first to think of it, but I’m darn pleased with myself nevertheless.) Every drag and pull on the leaves equalled an especially flavorful morsel. Though, I used the braising liquid to make a simple sauce to accompany the artichokes, I vote to try them first as is. Embrace thy Mediterranean vegetable flavor bomb.

Braised Artichokes

What you’ll need:

2 - 4 good sized artichokes, trimmed and halved lengthwise*
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup dry white wine
2 cloves of garlic, smashed
3 lemons, juiced and halves
Reserved 6 - 8 cups of water
4 - 6 Tb of butter, cold and cubed Salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

Heat oil in a large 8-10 quart pot over medium-high heat. Add garlic; cook until fragrant. Add artichokes cut side down. Cook for 2-3 minutes until heart is slightly browned.

Flip over artichokes. Add wine, lemon juice, reserved squeezed lemon halves, water to cover, and a good sprinkling of salt. Bring to a boil. Lower heat to a steady simmer.

Cook artichokes until tender, about 45 minutes. Pull off an outside leaf and test for tenderness. Remove artichokes to a platter; cover to keep warm.

Reserve 2 cups of the braising liquid. Discard the rest. Return reserved liquid to pot. Cook at medium heat until reduced, about 15-20 minutes. Remove from heat.

Add butter; whisk until combined. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon sauce over the artichokes, or serve on the side as dipping sauce.

*Be sure to pull off all of the tough outer leaves. They won’t soften up unless you overcook the rest of the artichoke. I also like to remove the artichoke “beard” with a pairing knife before I cook them. It makes for a neater eating experience.

Makes 2-6 servings. I always like to make extras. They are so good as a chilled leftover snack.

Pure and Simple

April 2, 2014 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Do you ever wake up from a dream that is so good that you try to force yourself back to sleep so you can finish it? That’s how I felt about the cauliflower soup I had at one of my favorite lunch spots recently. Eduard, the chef/owner, prides himself on his vegan (not something I generally gravitate towards) purees. He swears he never uses potato to thicken or enhance his soups. So, when I asked Eduard what made it so flavorful, he coyly smirked at me as only this particular French Moroccan can do.

For days, I had cauliflower on the brain. Not being a veg that I generally crave, I was stumped. So I did what any obsessed soup fan would do, I became totally preoccupied with unearthing Eduard’s secret. I knew it was based on cauliflower. It was vegan, so no dairy or chicken stock, though it was creamy and rich. No potatoes, yet still thick and velvety. And, then, it hit me…duh!

Way to complicate the uncomplicated, Sierra. Frankly, I was slightly disappointed with myself. For someone who prides herself on celebrating fresh produce, I was overlooking the obvious.

Eduard simply honors the purity of his starring vegetable. If it’s extremely fresh and in season, said veggie doesn't need much help at all. Just respect and delight in the pure and simple.

Pure and Simple Cauliflower Soup

Adapted from Paul Bertolli, formerly of Chez Panisse

*As Spring arrives, I’m super excited to try this recipe with other vegetables…peas, asparagus, zucchini, and on and on. Play around too…let me know what worked for you.

What you’ll need:

3 Tbs. olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, sliced thin
1 head fresh cauliflower, broken into small florets
5 1/2 cups water, divided
Good extra virgin oil, to drizzle
Salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

Heat the olive oil in a heavy bottomed pot. Cook the onion over low heat until just translucent. Don’t let the onions brown.

Add the cauliflower, a good pinch of salt, and 1/2 of a cup of water. Cover the pot tightly. Raise the heat to medium and let cook for 15-18 minutes, until the cauliflower is fork tender.

Then, add 4 1/2 cups of water. Lower heat, and bring to a low simmer. Let cook uncovered for 20 minutes.

Take off the heat. With a hand blender, puree the soup until smooth and creamy. If using a proper blender, puree in batches. Once pureed, let soup stand for 20 minutes. It will thicken up a bit during this time.

Thin the soup with 1/4 -1/2 cup hot water until you reach your ideal consistency. Reheat the soup. Ladle into bowls. Serve drizzled with good olive oil and freshly ground pepper.

Something in the air

November 14, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Ah, Southern Cali. We might not have the turning of the leaves or a first frost, but I swear, we do have Fall. The seasonal shift is ever so slight, but it is there. We get it right at the end of September.

Just as the days are getting shorter, the magical Santa Ana winds start up. They bring us that fresh air that the rest of the country so fondly relates to as fall. The gusts clear out the smog and bring us our version of a pure autumnal smell. Oh, I love that smell.

Then, we, Angelenos, get to babble on as though we are New Englanders…We talk about how stoked we are for fall…How we can’t wait for boots and sweaters...And, winter squash and roaring fires. The atmospheric aroma changes the days for us.

And, subsequently, it gets absurdly hot again. Then, Halloween arrives. Every Booby McGee (sorry Ms. Joplin) in the town is ret to go and it, rightfully, becomes “cold” for the night. Nipples at full mast. (I'm not going to lie, I’ve been known to do a little cleavage dance on All Hallow’s Eve, but for purely satirical and ironic reasons…I swear.) Cut to November, and it gets super hot again. Summer hot.

Perhaps we have a harder time transitioning between the seasons because the fall temperatures still lend themselves to peaches and snap peas, but that smell in the air is beckoning our taste buds towards the gourds and root vegetables that are taking over the farmer's tables at the markets? We’re trapped in a schizophrenic season / food transitional period. Stuck in the middle. While we're still seeing the red of the tomatoes, new shades of crimson, known as apples, are simultaneously resting at the vendor’s stands. Not quite ready for slow cooked stews and apple pies, we are primed to move on from hot weather produce delights.

Ultimately, the winds return bringing with them that natural air-perfume. Our Southern California hallmark of fall. Even if it is 80 something degrees outside, when the Santa Ana's blow back in for Thanksgiving, that “smell” always magically arrives just in time. And, we get our season.

Spaghetti Squash in Sage Browned Butter

*This is the perfect transitional winter squash dish for me. It makes me feel cozy and ready for the colder season, but it is still light enough to weather the heat that actually still exists outside. You can roast the squash whole, or cut it in half as I do. There is no right or wrong when making the decision. It mostly depends on whether you have a knife that is sharp enough to easily slice the spaghetti squash without hurting yourself.

What you’ll need:

1 Spaghetti Squash (3-4 lbs)
Olive oil for brushing (if cooking halved)
Course salt and freshly ground pepper
3 Tbs. unsalted butter
3 - 4 sage leaves, roughly chopped
A good grating of parmesan or pecorino cheese

Directions:

Preheat oven to 400.

Carefully slice spaghetti squash in half lengthwise. Scrape out the seeds. Brush with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place squash cut side up on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake for 45 minutes or until fork tender. If roasting whole, prick squash in several places. Allow an extra 15 to 30 minutes cooking time until it is soft to the touch.

Remove squash from oven. Let cool for about 10 minutes until easy to handle. Meanwhile, heat a small heavy bottomed sauté pan over medium heat. Add the butter. Once butter is melting, add chopped sage leaves. Allow the butter to cook until it turns a rich brown and has a nutty aroma. Watch it carefully. Be sure not to burn the butter. Once done, set off of heat.

When squash has cooled, scrape the flesh out with a fork into long strands. Place in a bowl or platter. Toss with the browned butter. Season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with grated parmesan or pecorino.

Makes 4 - 6 servings as a side dish. Or, 2 - 3 as a vegetarian main dish.

Summertime Whiskey Ribs

October 8, 2013 Stephanie Farrar

By Steph Farrar

I try to never make the same mistake twice; a mistake like not preparing enough baby-back ribs during a summertime BBQ. A week ago, I went overboard, making six racks for ten people. Needless to say, we had leftovers, and no one was disappointed.

My recent rib obsession started back on Adina, where we used to live and cook, plan and party, eat and entertain; it was at Adina that I tried to perfect these ribs. In a relatively small kitchen with an oven sans vent, dwindling counter space and a crappy old grill... I managed to get it right. However, in this Malibu kitchen, food just tastes better. It's either the sunset, the crisp open air, or the endless space... I'm still undecided.

A while back, Sierra and I craved summertime dinner with our best friend Ari and my hubs Sam. What better napkin-tied-to-your-neck meal than Whisky Ribs with potato salad and butter leaf, radish, snap pea greens? Prefaced by either (or both) a Lemon Shandy or a Mint Julep?

No better.

There's nothing quite as satisfying for me as breaking bread with friends and family. Although, there was no bread on the table, we made do. A close second would be listening to the new Haimrecord, but that's beside the point. Except, you should totally go and buy it now. And third would be drinking an entire bottle of '89 Far Niente Cabernet, meaning I would no longer be pregnant, growing steadily larger by the minute.

Back to the ribs.

I'm from Tennessee, as you probably know by now. A rack of ribs is not far from my taste-buds' cravings... usually plated next to a rich, mayonnaise-heavy potato salad and cole slaw, slow-cooked bacon baked beans and buttery cornbread. But I now live in California. And after finding guilty pleasures in Almond Milk and Green Juice, I succumbed to the healthier potato salad option Sierra suggested, as well as a gorgeous butter lettuce salad with radishes, snap peas and ricotta salata... a perfect summer meal. Thank god I gave in, because I think I ate a whole rack that night... but who's counting?

I truly wish I had written this recipe. If I were a liar, even a good liar, I would attempt to pass this off as my own. But, of course, it's not true. This recipe is one part of many attempts to find my way around a kitchen, to perfect a quiet evening with dearest friends, to learn from other great cooks like Sierra. Scott Hibb, who is fortunate enough to claim this recipe, has won several awards for them and rightly so. So give him a high-five if you ever meet him.

The trick to these ribs is slow-baking them at 300 degrees in the oven for about 2 1/2 hours before grilling them, all while making a spicy-sweet BBQ sauce from scratch. You're cooking the ribs anyway; you might as well make the sauce while you're waiting. Get a grill nice and hot once you take them out of the oven and let them rest for at least ten minutes before grilling.

Place them directly on the grill, basting them on each side for only about 3-4 minutes, without burning them too much. A little char adds insanely good flavor.

Don't forget to raise your glass and toast to a job well done, a meal well made, and a night well shared.

*all photos courtesy of the lovely Christopher Wray-Mccann

Summertime Whiskey Ribs

*adapted directly from Scott Hibb's Whiskey Ribs

Ingredients:

Recipe makes 4 servings (1/2 rack per person)

2 (2 pound) slabs baby back pork ribs
1 tbsp ground red chili pepper (cayenne)
2 1/4 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 cup minced onion
1 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup tomato paste
1/2 cup white vinegar
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 1/2 tbsp honey
2 tbsp Worcestershire
2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp coarsely ground black pepper
1 1/4 tsp liquid smoke
2 tsp whiskey (I use Jack Daniels)
2 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp onion powder
1 tbsp dark molasses
1/2 tbsp dark red chili powder (I use way more, cause I like these spicy)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 300 degree F (150 degrees C).

Cut each full rack of ribs in half, so that you have 4 half racks (or have butcher cut for you). Sprinkle salt and pepper (more pepper than salt), and 1 tablespoon chile pepper over meat (or more for added spice). Wrap each half rack in aluminum foil. I place the ribs on a baking sheet, since the drippings will burn through the foil, causing excess smoke in oven. Bake for 2 1/2 hours.

Meanwhile, heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Cook and stir the onions in oil for 5 minutes. Stir in water, tomato paste, vinegar, brown sugar, honey, and Worcestershire sauce. Season with 2 teaspoons salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, liquid smoke, whiskey, garlic powder, paprika, onion powder, dark molasses, and 1/2 tablespoon ground chile pepper. Bring mixture to a boil, then reduce heat. Simmer for 1 1/4 hours, uncovered, or until sauce thickens. I tend to leave the sauce going until about 15 minutes before the ribs are done. Remove from heat, and set sauce aside.

Preheat an outdoor grill for high heat.

Remove the ribs from the oven, and let stand 10 minutes. Remove the racks from the foil, and place on the grill. Grill the ribs for 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Brush sauce on the ribs while they're grilling, just before you serve them (adding it too early will burn it).

Simple Green

September 9, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Fresh leafy lettuce. Red wine vinegar. Good olive oil. These are a few of my favorite things. I mean, if I'm being totally straight, I'm a salad junkie. I know, it's a cliche. L.A. girl likes lettuce. "I'll just have a salad and some water", says the lady to the waitress.

Seriously though, I'm crazy for the green crunchy stuff. Still, let's be clear, unless it's arugula, mache or frisee, I'm talking about real lettuce. The kind that can stand on it's own. Red leaf, green leaf, romaine, red oak, green oak, butter, and gem lettuce. None of these so-called "baby mixed greens". I've noticed that these tend to be people's base for a throw-whatever-you-feel-like-into-it salad. I can appreciate that there is a place for that somewhere, just not my somewhere. But, don't get me wrong, I wholly respect and hold in high regard the chopped Italian salad, a shaved summer vegetable salad, the rustic Greek, the elegant Caprese, and the classic Cobb (among others). Though, these, to me, are in an entree salad/side dish category all of their own. Nonetheless, when it comes to salad greens, I'm totally comfortable being called a purist snob.

I suppose, I could give people the benefit of the doubt, and assume that they've probably only had the run-of-the-mill super market stuff. So, in that case, by all means, load it up with peppers, nuts, berries, cheeses, carrots, meats, and thick creamy dressings. You have to cover up the nothing flavor of your "baby mixed greens". But, I swear to you, fresh farmer's market heads of the delicious leafy veggies are good on their own. Really good.

Outside of simple additions such as radicchio, watercress, endive, radishes, cucumbers, or tomatoes (only when they're good and in season…ok I'm snooty in this department too), honor thy lettuce.

Some sea salt, a simple vinaigrette, and a light tossing. Let it shine, don't bury it.

Simple Green Salad

What you'll need:

A couple of fresh heads of lettuce*
1/2 cup of good olive oil
1/3 cup of good red wine vinegar**
Sea salt

Directions:

Wash and spin or dry the lettuce. Tear into big bite size pieces. Place in serving bowl. Whisk together the olive oil and vinegar. Alternatively, pour olive oil and vinegar into a clean recycled jar, and shake. Add salt to taste. Pour the dressing over the lettuce and gently toss.

*Try different varieties while you're at the market. Discover for yourself which are your faves.

**Play around with the amount of olive oil to vinegar. Commonly, people use a 2:1 ratio. But, I like a particularly tangy vinaigrette. Furthermore, experiment with a white wine or champagne vinegar. Or, cut the vinegar in half and add a Tb. of dijon mustard.

Good Food

August 10, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

I have a standing date with Evan Kleiman on Saturday mornings at 11am. I imagine, so do most of you? For the hour that Good Food on KCRW airs, I'm completely in my comfort zone. Farmer's market profiles, recipes, food historians, the weekly anticipated Jonathan Gold review, I'm always enthralled.

As a native of L.A., Evan Kleiman also means Angeli Caffe, which means childhood comfort food to me. It opened in 1984 just a few blocks from my elementary school. The ever-popular modern trattoria on Melrose Avenue was a mainstay of my best friend's family. I remember many a night, pre sleepover, post long pool days, and definitely after school plays (we may have still been in our 4th grade "Fiddler on the Roof" make-up), devouring the Spaghetti alla Checca , and that bread…oh that bread.

Many years later and still close friends with her and her brother, we all rented a house together just down the street from Angeli. We regularly went together and with other friends. And, those many years later, the Checca was just as good. The elegant simplicity of both the restaurant and the food never failed to deliver. Though, in January of 2012, Evan Kleiman sadly decided to close Angeli's doors for good. I may never have that pizza dough bread again, but I'd be damned if I couldn't somehow replicate the Checca.

The true beauty of a checca is the ease of it. It's a raw sauce generally consisting of ripe summer tomatoes, garlic and basil. Chop, let macerate, and pour over perfectly al dente spaghetti. Still to this day, when I eat this dish, I can feel my 8 year old hot pink post pool/bike riding cheeks slurping up the spaghetti and searching for more of the melty mozzarella.

Spaghetti alla Checca

Influenced and adapted from Evan Kleiman's Angeli Caffe

What you'll need:

Lots of ripe tomatoes, chopped (about 2 pints cherry or 5-6 large)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 -1 cup of good extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
8 fresh basil leaves, gently torn
6-8 oz. fresh mozzarella, chopped and brought to room temperature
1 lb dried spaghetti

Directions:

In a large bowl, mix tomatoes, garlic, basil, salt, and pepper. Add enough olive oil to cover the tomato mixture. Let the sauce sit at room temperature for 2-3 hours.

Cook the pasta in a large pot of heavily salted boiling water. Trust the pasta experts here, take the pasta out 1 minute before the suggested time on the back of the package. You definitely want that al dente bite with this fresh sauce.

Pour pasta into a serving bowl. Top with mozzarella and tomato mixture, and quickly mix well to coat.

Makes 4-6 servings.

The Tale of Two Trips, Part 2

August 3, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

The maternal family pilgrimage…A trip we've talked about, and planned, and cancelled, and planned, and finally, made happen. My mom and her sister, our Auntie Gayle, were born in Kentucky, and my sister and I had never been. This was the trip for us to see where the family roots of of our mom's maternal side were planted, and to get a glimpse of the southern birthplace that still held a deep embrace for both my mom and her older sister.

The trip began in Michigan where Auntie Gayle lives. My cousin, Michelle, was getting married. A perfect kick-off celebration to get the journey going. It was a beautiful wedding, followed by a gorgeous sunset yacht ride along the river. The cousins, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles drank and danced the night away. We got the partying out of the way, and now we were ready for the road trip portion of the expedition.

Two days after the wedding, my mom, my sister, my aunt and I jumped in a rental SUV, and hit the road to Ashland, Kentucky. Granted, there was a gas station stop, an argument about a AAA drop by, and an electronic's store visit before we were officially on our way, but we were off. The car was packed and we were headed south-bound with my sister in the driver's seat, my mom in the passenger seat co-piloting, and my aunt and I in the back seat giggling like little kids. I'll save you all of the inner workings of a three state car ride with the four us, mostly because it was a memorable keep sake of a trip that I'd like to hold onto for myself, but it was an adventure to say the least.

Truthfully, I was very much looking forward to seeing all of the places that my mom held so dear to her heart: her grandparent's old house, the railroad line that her grandfather conducted, the graves of my ancestors, and the tree that she and her sister played under that still stood tall on the cul-de-sac street where they thrived. But, I was also, selfishly, really looking forward to the food. I had vowed to throw health, diet, and sanity out of the window so long as it welcomed biscuits and gravy, fried okra, grits, bbq, and pie…lots of fresh pie. I couldn't wait to walk the quaint small town streets stopping in one culinary mom n' pop establishment after another.

But, sadly, it was truly a foodstuffs tragedy. As with most industry in our vast country, the food seems to have dried up with it. Aside from a "French" restaurant off of Main Street that got rave reviews from the hotel manager (but was sincerely one of the worst meals I have ever eaten), the only place for us to eat was on the other side of town. Over the bridge lived the little bit of thriving business…a big box store, a mid level department store, and every chain restaurant you can imagine. And, though I was fiendish for southern treats, I in no way mean to come off as trite. It was a shattering discovery. I was certainly anticipating to see a depressed economy in the small town, but I did not expect an empty town. Every independent store front was vacant. Though, as we drove through the residential streets, life was still existing. Nice lives at that. Picturesque family homes, bikes in the drive ways, neighbors waving at one another, the works. A heartening atmosphere, really.

I just have to hope that behind all of the doors of the homes of Ashland, Kentucky, family's are still having their traditional Sunday dinners...sitting together around the table feasting on all of the southern fixings that have been passed down generation to generation. Those same dinners, that to this day, my mom and her sister can still taste.

Inspired and a Bowl of Soup

July 31, 2013 Stephanie Farrar

By Steph Farrar

Not too long ago, a few friends joined Sierra and I for a summer bowl of soup, cornbread, mango micheladas, mint margaritas and a key lemon tart with blueberries. Even on a hot summer day, a bowl of soup can work... as long as dear friends share a seat in the shade and join us sipping something cold.

This past week, Sam and I were miraculously able to see a few movies together, two in the theater, two at home. While I love going to the movies, the two documentaries we watched on Netflix at home were not only informative culturally and socially, but they were inspiring on a subject I've been focused on lately: a life's dedication to work and how that dedication and love of work leads to success. First we watched Jiro Dreams of Sushi, a 2011 David Gelb film, following the 75 year career of, arguably, the world's finest and hardest working sushi chef. And secondly we watched Senna, the 2010 Asif Kapadia film which documents, entirely from raw footage, the impeccable career of Brazilian Formula One driver Ayrton Senna.

While the films have nothing to do with Chicken Tortilla Soup and having friends over for an afternoon party, I've been obsessing, clinically and radically, over food, its preparation, its science, its beauty, and its grip on me for the last few years. Even more so in the last few months. After watching and somewhat studying Jiro and Ayrton's allegiance and passion for their work, I'm beginning to finally understand how loyalty to ones craft is born: continue doing what you love and never stop, never concede. The legendary English marathoner, Sir Ranulph Fiennes, only months after having heart surgery, ran 7 marathons in 7 days on 6 different continents. I'm reminded of one of his best quotes,"That part of the human mind which tells us to give up... that part is suspect."

It seems like a little ole' housewife thing to do: enjoy cooking and feeding people. Seemingly the opposite of female evolution. I fear my doctor and lawyer friends, my career motivated artist and fashionable lady-friends might jeer at this. Alas, I can not avoid or deny the sheer pleasure it gives me.

So, I will. I will continue cooking, inviting friends for dinner, posting, writing, working, doing what I love... and never stop. That is, until my presence becomes a nuisance or in any way interferes with the product, the meal, the race. I'm trying to avoid coming across like a motivational speaker here, but it's hard to not be inspired by the relentless work ethic of Jiro, who has loved every single day of his life in work, making the same thing over and over again, for the ten special guests who grace his subterranean Roppongi Hills subway sushi stop.

It's hard to avoid being influenced and encouraged by Senna's unyielding desire to be number one, to put to shame that arrogant Frenchman, Alain Prost, to win more World Championship's than anyone in history, to exist as the idol Brazil needed and deserved.

A bowl of soup does it for me. Friends visiting for a drink, a football game, a chat, a sweet dessert to complete a perfect afternoon in the Los Angeles sun. If I've done that right, I'll do it over and over, forever, continuously, relentlessly. If that brings joy to my soul and to my friends' palettes and personas, I've won.

*Photos courtesy of Christopher Wray-Mccann

Chicken Tortilla Soup with Cornbread

Soup Ingredients:

3/4- 1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into cubes
1 tbsp. olive or vegetable oil
1/2 small onion, chopped
1 tbsp. chili powder
1 tbsp. tomato paste
4 cups low sodium chicken broth
6 cilantro stems
1/2 cup corn kernels
1/2 cup black beans 1/2 cup diced cherry tomatoes crushed tortilla chips

*diced avocado, chopped cilantro, crumbled queso fresco, sour cream and lime wedges for serving

Soup Directions:

Heat oil in large pot over medium heat

Add onion and cook for about 3 minutes

Stir in chili powder and tomato paste and cook for 30 seconds

Add broth and cilantro stems and bring to a boil.

Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered for 10-12 minutes, until reduced to 3 cups

Season chicken with salt and pepper and add to broth. Cook for 3 minutes

Discard cilatro stems

Divide corn, beans, and tomatoes between bowls. Pour piping hot broth over ingredients.

Add avocado, lime, cilantro, cheese, and sour cream. Enjoy!

Serves 2

note: if you have oven-proof soup bowls, keep in warm oven before adding corn, beans, tomatoes and chips. Soup cools rather quickly once the hot broth touches the cool ingredients.

Buttermilk Cornbread

Grandmother's buttermilk cornbread from www.allrecipes.com

Ingredients:

1/2 cup butter
2/3 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 cup buttermilk
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 cup cornmeal
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease an 8-inch square pan

Melt butter in a large skillet. Remove from heat and stir in sugar. Quickly add eggs and beat until well blended.

Combine buttermilk with baking soda and stir into mixture in skillet.

Stir in cornmeal, flour and salt until well blended but a few lumps remain. Pour batter into prepared pan.

Bake in oven for 30-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

The Tale of Two Trips, Part 1

July 30, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Two years ago, my grandmother passed away at the age of 100. Two months ago, we scattered her ashes in New Mexico. My sister, brother, dad, and I journeyed together from Los Angeles to Santa Fe for the Myerson clan gathering. A weekend of leftist intellectual humor, hot springs, chiles rellenos, and bad dad jokes was upon us...all amidst the back drop of big sky.

My grandmother was a strong, smart, and independent woman. She was an activist for human rights. She was an officer for The Woman's International League for Peace and Freedom and The Los Angeles Peace Crusade. She was a world traveller up until her 90's. But, she was not a warm touchy-feely grammy. She was a familial pragmatist. I loved her regardless of her seemingly unaffectionate ways (though, some of my cousins may argue with this). She was inspiring.

So, to say the least, my g-ma (as she signed her cards to me) was not a sentimentalist. But, nothing made her happier that seeing all of her grandkids in the same place. In fact, we hadn't actually all been together since my her 100th birthday in January of 2011. So, though she never cared for there to be any pomp and circumstance surrounding her passing, she would have been delighted to know that this "ceremony" to say goodbye had brought us all together again.

We assembled together at the adobe chapel on my Uncle Reno's property, held hands, told stories, and scattered the ashes. We didn't overdo it, we didn't under do it, we did it just right. There were some tears, lots of laughter, and a vow to come together more often. Everyone then went back to my dad's rental house where I cooked us a huge feast. A very appropriate farewell to my grandma, Vivien Myerson.

Sweet Summer "Succotash"

July 25, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Lately, even breathing has been hard work and uncomfortable. The slightest movement adds to the sticky stress of the heat. I’m a native Angeleno, and yet, I still complain (and act surprised and overwhelmed) by the inevitable summer heat that strikes us every single year without fail. And, on top of being one of the weather whiners, I’m a hypocrite. I beg for all of the booty that the sun gods provide us, and then I carp about the seasonal circumstances that help to create the harvest. See, I’m a total produce whore. So, when the tomatoes, corn, peaches, and other summer goods start to show up at the farmer’s markets, I go crazy. They completely get me off. What?! I’m perpetually single. I have to have something to look forward to, and a perfect, sweet, and slightly ugly heirloom tomato is that for me. Come to think of it, that’s actually my ideal man-type too, just a bit taller than a tomato. Hmm, I wonder what that means?

Needless to say, when the time is right (and, I’m properly ill-at-ease walking around outside, let alone breathing), a huge bounty of fruit and veggie love accompany me home from the Sunday farmer’s market. Though they’re just for me, and any friends/family I might end up cooking for that week, I’m never worried my edible purchases will end up unused or buried in the trash. Before I can even think about all of the rousing things I want to create with my summer market loot, I’ve eaten a quarter of it on it’s own. A tomato sliced with a little Maldon salt, a cob of corn merely grilled or steamed, a peach...they do themselves justice. Therefore, their unadulterated beauty is two-fold to me, they are beyond delicious, and they don’t need much finessing, i.e. kitchen heat.

Turning the oven on in my un-a/c’d cottage-like apartment is a game-changer. Fan schman. The added heat makes the already motionless air come to a complete and hot standstill. The other day, I was longingly looking at my remaining week’s veggies. I was missing cooking and dying to eat them all at once. Mission accepted: use as many vegetables as I am inspired to use while cooking as little as possible. Corn, summer squash, heirloom tomatoes (duh!), red onion, garlic, basil…a “succotash” of sorts.

To all you food purists out there, I didn’t use lima beans, so I know I can’t officially call it a succotash. Regardless, it was simple, light, and so tasty. Good veg don’t lie.

Sweet Summer "Succotash"

My only footnote to this recipe would be to use whatever vegetables inspire you. Though, I do think corn is a perfect cornerstone. Also, I used it as side dish to breaded chicken but, I think it would make a killer pasta with orrechiette, or incorporated into a more substantial salad with arugula or a grain. Just go with it.

What you’ll need:

A good glug of extra virgin olive oil (approx. 1 Tb.)
½ a red onion, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, minced
2 ears of corn, shucked and cut of the cob
1 medium or 2 small summer squash (whichever kind you fancy), diced
1 medium heirloom tomato, large dice
2 pats of butter (approx. 2 Tb.)
A generous handful of cherry tomatoes, halved
Salt and black pepper, to taste
¼ tsp. red pepper chili flake (optional)
1 Tb. basil, torn

Directions:

Heat oil in large skillet over medium heat. Add onion and garlic. Season with salt and pepper. Stirring frequently, cook for 8-10 minutes until onions are translucent.

Add red pepper chili flake, if using.

Add squash. Stir to combine. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 4-5 minutes until squash starts to cook through and soften.

Add corn. Cook for 1-2 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add chopped heirloom tomato. Turn down heat to medium-low. Add a pinch of salt and black pepper.

Stir to incorporate all of the ingredients.

Add butter. Take off of the heat. Stir until butter is melted and makes a slight sauce.

Gently mix in cherry tomatoes and basil. Serve.

Makes 4 servings.

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Chicken Tortilla Soup with Cornbread

Buttermilk Cornbread

Sweet Summer "Succotash"