A year ago this Sunday I was at home. I spent the weekend basking in North Coast glory with my family and a few friends: attending the Wine & Beer Festival, climbing trees in Montgomery Woods, hiking the Waterfall trail, and of course, being in the presence of dear old Pop long enough to appreciate him on Father's Day before he and Ma took their act to the Fireman's Chicken Dinner-- an annual event in the not so urban jungle of Comptche. This year I'm about as far as I've ever been from Pop as his Hallmark day approaches. And I won't be near a phone on Sunday to call him and tell him I think he is a magnificent guy. Thereby I'm defaulting and paying homage here, since my father might actually be my most loyal reader.
I routinely credit a number of sources for helping shape my food "sensibilities". Really though, Pop has been formative above all others. He shares my passion for food: we trade cookbooks (he's more of a beautiful photo guy, whereas I love the written word) and recipes, and thoughts on foods we've tried recently. He dictated my eating patterns from when I was just a wee thing. My childhood mind's eye is seared with the memory of my father leaning over our kitchen sink filleting a whole Albacore that he bought-- fresh caught-- directly from the fishermen at the dock in Fort Bragg. Moments later the naked raw fish would appear on a large cutting board rough cut into his notable "Savage Sashimi" rounds. Pop appreciates the sensual aesthetic of having a legitimate mouthful of food; traditional sized sashimi pieces really aren't big enough. The four of us would sit on the floor of our living room, chopsticks in hand, pulling straight from the board and popping the pearly chunks whole into our mouth. In fact, he generally excels in the seafood department: the man can grill a perfect, glistening, ruby-hued fillet of Salmon tucked under sweet and spicy layers of Mendocino mustard and chives. He serves it with salad greens and veggies from our garden and white corn on the cob, kernels bursting with sweetness. This is the go-to summer meal and one my brother and I will drive home for from nearly anywhere.
Pop is also known far and wide for his skills behind the brunch buffet. A friend of my brother's once observed that he has an A List and a B List menu. If it's A List prepare to enjoy the following: bagels and lox with goat cream cheese; scrambled eggs; fruit salad; chicken apple sausage glazed in orange juice; pancakes studded with oats and served with homemade preserves that on any given day could be blackberry, plum, and/or concord grape, all grown on the property; crudites to dip into his legendary pesto (made with basil, parsley, or green garlic all from the garden); and a spread of bread and cheeses. If it's a B List morning you may only see fruit salad, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage. A List or B List, it's good to be on the list. Nothing is better than waking up and wandering sleepily into the kitchen on the morning of one of these brunches. There are usually flowers on the table (clipped that morning by Pop), a full carafe of coffee, and Pop is standing over the stove--dishtowel flung over his shoulder--skillfully conducting the symphony between several well loved cast iron pans.
He loves soups and breads, good cheeses, and baked goods. I didn't love pizza as a kid, but Pop made a wicked calzone. He'd fill it to bursting with mozzarella or ricotta and sauteed spinach and onions. The crust would be golden brown and he'd pull it from the oven right as the insides began to seep from their pocket seams and bubble onto the bottom of pan. A quick poke with a fork would release a glorious puff of aromatic steam. The meal would inevitably end with scorched tongues and roofs of mouths as we weren't patient enough to wait for the heavenly pockets to cool.
Pop keeps a lot of items in rotation, and for the most part, I don't duplicate any of them very well....except one. My eggplant Parmesan rivals his and this fact makes me overwhelmingly proud. It's my go-to dish. One of the few that I could do, maybe, with my eyes closed (the kitchen would be messy but I'm thinking it's possible). For all intents and purposes, it actually isn't Eggplant Parmesan as there is no actual Parm used. Provolone is the preferred cheese, which adds a delicious smokey flavor. I also make tomato sauce from scratch, a recipe that began being perfected in high school when every Friday my buddies would get together and make pasta. Michaela was really the head chef, her family is Italian, and most of us just stood around and watched her. Occasionally she let me chop something, but not all that often. After years of watching her make sauce I picked up a number of tricks and now make a decent one of my own. Below is the recipe for Pop's Eggplant Provolone in honor of Sunday's big day and my recipe for Tomato Sauce in honor of Pop who continuously inspires me to stay passionate about the world of food. Happy Father's Day, Pop!!! You know I love you.
Pop's Eggplant Provolone
Ingredients:
1 1/2 medium eggplants
2 eggs
1/4 C milk
1+ C Italian breadcrumbs
4-6 T Olive Oil
3/4 lb sliced Provolone
2 1/2 Quarts Tomato Sauce (recipe follows)
9x11 baking dish
Aluminum Foil
Preheat oven to 375 degrees
Slice eggplants into 1/4"-3/8" rounds (you will end up needing around 15 slices as their sizes will vary. I generally take my six largest slices for the bottom layer of the pan).
Place eggplant slices in a single layer on a plate or in a dish with just under 1/4" of water. Microwave eggplants for 3 minutes until softened. Repeat in batches until all eggplant pieces are heated.
While eggplants are heating, crack eggs into a shallow bowl and add milk. Beat until milk evenly mixes throughout.
Pour breadcrumbs into another shallow bowl.
Using a fork dunk eggplant slices into egg mixture until both sides are coated.
Take eggplant and lay onto breadcrumbs making sure both sides get covered in crumbs.
In a large sauce pan, heat 3+ T of olive oil over medium-high heat. The bottom of the pan should be generously coated with oil. Make sure not to burn the oil. It should be hot but not smoking. I generally test my oil temp by throwing a SMALL pinch of breadcrumbs into the pan. They should being frying immediately if the oil is hot enough.
Place breaded eggplant slices into pan. Poke with a fork and flip once after first side begins to color.
Pull the browned eggplant slices from the pan and stack on a plate. The eggplant will likely soak up most of the oil and you'll want to add more if it begins to burn.
When eggplant slices are all cooked allow them to cool on the plate for a moment.
Tomato Sauce:
2 T Olive Oil
salt to taste
pepper to taste
2 T Italian Spices
1/4 t red pepper flakes
1 small yellow onion, diced uniformly
6-8 white mushrooms, caps cleaned and stems removed, sliced evenly
1/2-3/4 small can tomato paste
1 1/2 T water
1 can organic Fire Roasted Diced Tomatoes
1 can organic diced tomatoes in juice (if tomatoes are in season use 6-8 medium to large fresh tomatoes in place of canned and a generous pinch of powdered Lapsang Souchong black tea to get a hint of smokiness)
3/4-1 C red table wine
2 Cloves Garlic, finely chopped
1 C fresh basil leaves, stems removed
1 - 2 T Balsamic vinegar (to taste)
Heat olive oil in a large sauce pan over medium heat.
Add onions, Italian spices, red pepper flakes, salt and pepper, saute onions with spices until translucent. Add the mushrooms and saute until they glisten and soften. Take out half the tomato paste from the can and mix in a bowl with 1.5 tablespoons water to thin. Add the thinned paste to the pan and stir so onions and mushrooms are lightly coated. Let cook for just under a minute, stirring frequently. Add canned tomatoes. Add red wine, it should change color to purpleish. Let simmer for 20 minutes stirring and smelling often. Towards the end of the simmer cycle add garlic. Let it cook for a minute or two to soften. Add the basil. I tear the leaves into the pan but whole leaves work fine. Add the balsamic vinegar and a pinch of salt. Cook until basil wilts (about one minute). Turn off heat and let sauce sit in the pan and cool.
Assembly:
Pour on a thin layer of sauce to cover the bottom of the baking dish.
Add a single layer of eggplants.
Add another thin layer of sauce.
Lay down a layer of cheese slices so eggplants and sauce are completely covered.
Repeat all steps (beginning with another thin layer of sauce) until pan is close to full (usually requires two layers).
If you feel compelled you can sprinkle the top with grated Asiago.It browns well and adds nice texture.
Cover dish with foil and stick in the oven. Depending on how hot your oven is, the timing may vary slightly. Generally this dish cooks for around 1 hour and 15 minutes. Remove foil after one hour to brown the top and cook for the remaining time.
Pull from oven and allow 7-10 minutes to cool. There will be a lot of liquid in the pan and cooling allows it to firm.
Tom Douglas: Godfather of Seattle Culinary
The office has changed a lot in the last few days. Three new people have come on board since my arrival. This means that I am a defacto authority-- which is humorous beyond belief-- and that I am acutely aware of my role changing. Needless to say, last night I went to my second dinner with the team and this time around I was not the newest member, which felt good.
After many hours of meetings we decided to get dinner at Tom Douglas' new endeavor Serious Pie. Tom Douglas is like the big deal chef in Seattle. Everyone cares about this man. I should probably learn something about him, other than his name, but I haven't yet. I have often wondered why successful cooks often venture into the pizza realm. In San Francisco we got Nicky's Pizza, from Nick of Nick's Crispy Tacos, and although he sold it to New York Pizza it was the same intention I'm sure. Pizza is fantastic in its most basic and simple form. With a good crust, most pizza is magical. Which is why I find it so irritating that Chefs (with a capital 'C') feel compelled to "raise the bar" with white truffle oil. P.S. White truffle oil-- kind of 2006 but I'm not sure Seattle has gotten the memo. Serious Pie is THAT kind of spot.
Anyway, like Nicky's Pizza, Little Star and other well known, well loved pie spots, Serious Pie is small and can really only fits 20ish people. Our party of seven was given a wait time of one and a half hours. This wouldn't have been a big deal necessarily but came as a particularly big blow because we had all just sat in an hour of Mariners traffic to get across town. We were kind of spent, and while not really hungry (because we'd been in eating meetings all day) ready to sit down and eat.
Around the corner was Dahlia Lounge-- also a Tom Douglas venture. The folks in our party knew it by experience and reputation. I got to the restaurant before the others (after driving through three stadium parking lots and, at certain points in the gridlock, in the opposite direction I was trying to go just so I could feel like I was moving) and was charged with relocating our group. Bottom line, and long story short, we ended up at Palace Kitchen-- also a Tom Douglas venture-- after calling Lola and Etta's, all located within a few blocks, and all...Tom Douglas ventures. You see the theme here; the man is the Seattle restaurant scene.
If I talked in depth about the dishes we ordered you'd be blind from looking at your screen and my fingers would be bleeding from typing. So I'll do a little list with minimal commentary.
Starters:
1) Goat Cheese and Lavender Fondue accompanied by char grilled bread chunks, and sliced apple. The lavender was subtle. The char grilled bread was out of this world.
2) A wedge of Humboldt Fog sharing a plate with blanched almonds, sliced apples, and a few artisan crackers. Can't go wrong with Humboldt.
3) White asparagus cooked with Wala Wala onions, truffle oil, and covered in crispy golden shoestring potato frites. White asparagus is always delicious, as long as it isn't deviously overcooked, which this wasn't.
4) "Plin" ravioli with roasted pork and chard. Adorned with shaved Parmesan, likely traces of truffle oil though I'm not 100% sure about that. "Plin" refers to the particular cut of the ravioli. Rather than the traditional large squares, the plate was filled with small rectangles, maybe 3/8" by 1", stuffed ever-so-carefully. I actually tasted one because they were so damn cute. I dissected it to take the pork out but there was so little there and it was so well internalized by the pasta that it was a bit of a lost cause. Tasty bite.
Salads:
1) Caesar. Effectively a romaine heart slathered in their tangy dressing, and sprinkled with angel-fine shredded Parmesan. A truly respectable take on this salad.
2) Arugula. It was great to see an arugula salad made with something other than its baby self. I'd almost forgotten just how peppery mature arugula is. This particularly green was so mature in fact, it was flowering and its little blossoms studded the salad. It was dressed classically with lemon juice and more angel-fine Parm. Nice.
Entrees:
1) Trout. Cooked in lemon and more truffle oil. Served whole, with its skin and eyes, on its own plate. Accompanied by an additional split dish of Yukon gold mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus. Radical. The trout was succulent and flaky. If you screw up mash potatoes you should be taken out back and punched in the eye socket, they did it right. No complaints.
2) House-made papardelle with rapini and black cod "meatballs" (quotations as appeared on menu), in a Wala Wala onion broth. The meatballs were more of a crab cake consistancy. The papardelle was excellent. I could have eaten this to excess. I rarely eat pasta so when I eat good pasta it always seems even better than it should.
3) Falafal plate. Five falafal, below-average pita, below-average tzatziki, unremarkable hummous, a forgettable cucumber and onion salad. I'm not sure why this was on their menu. Tom, if you are such an ace, you should know better, my man.
Dessert:
1) Coconut creme pie with white chocolate shavings. The amazing thing is that while I got to enjoy some of this fantastic slice of pie last night, there are actually 10 miniature versions of the same one in my kitchen as we speak. Chris just came home from a photography awards event, catered by the ever intrepid TD, and managed to nab a boxful of the pint size beauties. The real winning element was the flakiness of the pie crust combined with the ethereal lightness of the creme, the toasted coconut wasn't half bad either (though I'll never love white chocolate. It's a bit like white truffle oil-- over played, under whelming).
2) (Which should actually be noted as 2-4 because we got the shrunken versions of Palace's remaining desserts, though they did arrive on a single plate).
A) Rhubarb Float. This was really interesting, though I am undecided as to whether or not I actually "liked" it. It was a leeeetle scoop of rhubarb ice cream, which I am a fan of, in a leeetle glass filled with hibiscus infused muscato, which was interesting and so floral that I couldn't decided if I wanted to dunk my nose in it, or put it in my mouth. But the scent did transport me to Hawaii and that was a plus.
B) Cherry ice cream sundae. Two cold, pitted cherries covered in slightly tart cherry ice cream under an upside down dark chocolate cone. A good take on something I would never have ordered.
C) Chocolate toffee something. I know the menu said toffee. But I'm still confused about this. Four connected squares of chocolate which the waitress promised were studded with pretzel crumbs. Errrr...toffee? Couldn't find the pretzels, wasn't sad to have missed them, definitely tasted like espresso beans. Felt pretty ambivalent.
All this was washed down by a tasty Tempranillo, which I think is my favorite wine of the moment.
I'll admit, this Tom Douglas probably knows what he is doing. Palace Kitchen was respectable. I have a feeling I'll be under the roof of many other ventures of his, even without trying, even when trying not to. The man is the Godfather of Seattle Culinary. Hey, that's cool Tom, knock yourself out: just not with falafel plates.
After many hours of meetings we decided to get dinner at Tom Douglas' new endeavor Serious Pie. Tom Douglas is like the big deal chef in Seattle. Everyone cares about this man. I should probably learn something about him, other than his name, but I haven't yet. I have often wondered why successful cooks often venture into the pizza realm. In San Francisco we got Nicky's Pizza, from Nick of Nick's Crispy Tacos, and although he sold it to New York Pizza it was the same intention I'm sure. Pizza is fantastic in its most basic and simple form. With a good crust, most pizza is magical. Which is why I find it so irritating that Chefs (with a capital 'C') feel compelled to "raise the bar" with white truffle oil. P.S. White truffle oil-- kind of 2006 but I'm not sure Seattle has gotten the memo. Serious Pie is THAT kind of spot.
Anyway, like Nicky's Pizza, Little Star and other well known, well loved pie spots, Serious Pie is small and can really only fits 20ish people. Our party of seven was given a wait time of one and a half hours. This wouldn't have been a big deal necessarily but came as a particularly big blow because we had all just sat in an hour of Mariners traffic to get across town. We were kind of spent, and while not really hungry (because we'd been in eating meetings all day) ready to sit down and eat.
Around the corner was Dahlia Lounge-- also a Tom Douglas venture. The folks in our party knew it by experience and reputation. I got to the restaurant before the others (after driving through three stadium parking lots and, at certain points in the gridlock, in the opposite direction I was trying to go just so I could feel like I was moving) and was charged with relocating our group. Bottom line, and long story short, we ended up at Palace Kitchen-- also a Tom Douglas venture-- after calling Lola and Etta's, all located within a few blocks, and all...Tom Douglas ventures. You see the theme here; the man is the Seattle restaurant scene.
If I talked in depth about the dishes we ordered you'd be blind from looking at your screen and my fingers would be bleeding from typing. So I'll do a little list with minimal commentary.
Starters:
1) Goat Cheese and Lavender Fondue accompanied by char grilled bread chunks, and sliced apple. The lavender was subtle. The char grilled bread was out of this world.
2) A wedge of Humboldt Fog sharing a plate with blanched almonds, sliced apples, and a few artisan crackers. Can't go wrong with Humboldt.
3) White asparagus cooked with Wala Wala onions, truffle oil, and covered in crispy golden shoestring potato frites. White asparagus is always delicious, as long as it isn't deviously overcooked, which this wasn't.
4) "Plin" ravioli with roasted pork and chard. Adorned with shaved Parmesan, likely traces of truffle oil though I'm not 100% sure about that. "Plin" refers to the particular cut of the ravioli. Rather than the traditional large squares, the plate was filled with small rectangles, maybe 3/8" by 1", stuffed ever-so-carefully. I actually tasted one because they were so damn cute. I dissected it to take the pork out but there was so little there and it was so well internalized by the pasta that it was a bit of a lost cause. Tasty bite.
Salads:
1) Caesar. Effectively a romaine heart slathered in their tangy dressing, and sprinkled with angel-fine shredded Parmesan. A truly respectable take on this salad.
2) Arugula. It was great to see an arugula salad made with something other than its baby self. I'd almost forgotten just how peppery mature arugula is. This particularly green was so mature in fact, it was flowering and its little blossoms studded the salad. It was dressed classically with lemon juice and more angel-fine Parm. Nice.
Entrees:
1) Trout. Cooked in lemon and more truffle oil. Served whole, with its skin and eyes, on its own plate. Accompanied by an additional split dish of Yukon gold mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus. Radical. The trout was succulent and flaky. If you screw up mash potatoes you should be taken out back and punched in the eye socket, they did it right. No complaints.
2) House-made papardelle with rapini and black cod "meatballs" (quotations as appeared on menu), in a Wala Wala onion broth. The meatballs were more of a crab cake consistancy. The papardelle was excellent. I could have eaten this to excess. I rarely eat pasta so when I eat good pasta it always seems even better than it should.
3) Falafal plate. Five falafal, below-average pita, below-average tzatziki, unremarkable hummous, a forgettable cucumber and onion salad. I'm not sure why this was on their menu. Tom, if you are such an ace, you should know better, my man.
Dessert:
1) Coconut creme pie with white chocolate shavings. The amazing thing is that while I got to enjoy some of this fantastic slice of pie last night, there are actually 10 miniature versions of the same one in my kitchen as we speak. Chris just came home from a photography awards event, catered by the ever intrepid TD, and managed to nab a boxful of the pint size beauties. The real winning element was the flakiness of the pie crust combined with the ethereal lightness of the creme, the toasted coconut wasn't half bad either (though I'll never love white chocolate. It's a bit like white truffle oil-- over played, under whelming).
2) (Which should actually be noted as 2-4 because we got the shrunken versions of Palace's remaining desserts, though they did arrive on a single plate).
A) Rhubarb Float. This was really interesting, though I am undecided as to whether or not I actually "liked" it. It was a leeeetle scoop of rhubarb ice cream, which I am a fan of, in a leeetle glass filled with hibiscus infused muscato, which was interesting and so floral that I couldn't decided if I wanted to dunk my nose in it, or put it in my mouth. But the scent did transport me to Hawaii and that was a plus.
B) Cherry ice cream sundae. Two cold, pitted cherries covered in slightly tart cherry ice cream under an upside down dark chocolate cone. A good take on something I would never have ordered.
C) Chocolate toffee something. I know the menu said toffee. But I'm still confused about this. Four connected squares of chocolate which the waitress promised were studded with pretzel crumbs. Errrr...toffee? Couldn't find the pretzels, wasn't sad to have missed them, definitely tasted like espresso beans. Felt pretty ambivalent.
All this was washed down by a tasty Tempranillo, which I think is my favorite wine of the moment.
I'll admit, this Tom Douglas probably knows what he is doing. Palace Kitchen was respectable. I have a feeling I'll be under the roof of many other ventures of his, even without trying, even when trying not to. The man is the Godfather of Seattle Culinary. Hey, that's cool Tom, knock yourself out: just not with falafel plates.
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