Tour of Missouri: The French Never Ate So Good

As an excited spectator for the inaugural Tour of Missouri cycling race, I must admit I was as preoccupied with the food that we would serve at our picnic as I was with whether George Hincapie or Alberto Contador would break to the front of the pack. However, having been a casual fan of cycling for years, which means you follow the Tour de France and that's about it, I was proud of my adoptive state for putting on a top-notch sporting exhibition on their first try. (Despite following the first few stages on the West side of the state, it was in Augusta wine country that I first caught glimpse of how major a production the Tour of Missouri was. With over 120 riders and dozens of team, race and security vehicles, I thought to myself "this is a big deal" with each support car that passed). So with family in town from around the country, I really wanted to show them that not only could Missouri stage a world class cycling spectacle but we could serve superb al fresco cuisine to match. The key to a great traveling spread, one where you won't have a kitchen or heat source to prepare, is the variety of dishes you serve. It's important to have a large and varied offering, things like: multiple pickles, good cheeses, spreads, olives, salads & relishes, breads & crostini, fruit, smoked fish and meat, sweets. Not only because it's easier to pack up smaller containers, but also in that it allows for informality when eating. Everyone can be serving themselves something while the rest is making the rounds, it's a more social way to entertain. This method is made easier by the fact that you can purchase most of the components for a meal such as this, things like olives, cheeses, pickles, etc., and then focus on making just a few of your favorites to accompany them. It's also a good idea to invest in a quality picnic basket with well made plastic plates, utensils and cups, one that has a waterproof interior so you can add an ice pack to keep things cool. Here is a delicious relish that goes great with smoked meats, especially smoked salmon or trout.


Creamy Cucumber Relish
Quantity Produced: 3 Cups

Quick Pickled Cucumbers 3 Cups (See Recipe)
Parsley, Minced 2 Tablespoons
Shallot, Minced 2 Teaspoons
Garlic, Minced ½ Teaspoon
Sour Cream 1/3 Cup
Cayenne Pepper Pinch
Fresh Dill, Minced ¼ Cup (or 1 Tablespoon Dried)
Olive Oil, Extra Virgin 2 Tablespoons
Kosher Salt To Taste
Fresh White Pepper To Taste

Preparation Procedure-

Combine everything, season and refrigerate.

Quick Pickled Cucumbers
Quantity Produced: 3 Cups

English Cucumber, Sliced on Mandoline 2
Kosher Salt 2 Tablespoons

Water 3 Cups
White Wine Vinegar 1 Cup
Sugar 2 Cups
Bay Leaves 2
Allspice Berries, Dried 4

Preparation Procedure-
Slice cucumbers thin and toss with salt. Set in colander over a large bowl and drain for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, make brine by bringing remaining ingredients to a boil in a large saucepan. Remove from heat and allow to cool to room temperature (you can put into refrigerator to speed this up). Rinse salt from cucumbers and using either a clean towel or salad spinner remove as much moisture from cucumbers as possible. Cover with cooled brine. Will be ready in 3 to 6 hours.

Dispatches from Santa Fe

I recently returned from working a few events in the magical town of Santa Fe, New Mexico. It has been several years since I've spent any considerable time in the Southwest, specifically Santa Fe, and aside from the obvious: a dry heat is better in August than a humid heat, I gained a newfound respect for the culinary scene there. From old stalwarts to new juggernauts, as always, there's a lot going on food-wise in this vibrant art community. Here are a few places not to be missed the next time you visit:

Joseph's Table Actually in Taos, about an hours drive North of Santa Fe, Joseph's Table is a restaurant I've wanted to visit for years. Located in the folksy Hotel la Fonda directly on Taos Plaza, Joseph's Table is the progeny of chef Joseph Wrede who also happens to be the grand puba of the local/artisanal movement in Northern New Mexico (the restaurant's motto: "The World is Our Country, Good Food Our Religion, Organic & Wild Our Mission"). Chef Wrede prints his small menu nightly and works with most of the areas more renowned farmers and ranchers to create his delicious Southwestern inflected New American cuisine. Highlights of my meal were the Sauteed Kale & Beet Greens in Tomato Vinaigrette and Soy Marinated Duck with Saffron Onions and Juniper Sauce.

Coyote Cafe When I first visited Santa Fe in the early nineties I ate at Mark Miller's Coyote Cafe, which had just opened, and experienced his interpretation of Southwestern cuisine. Widely considered the originator of a new way of cooking tacos and chiles, think Nuevo Southwestern, Miller had a impressive track record including a stint at Chez Panisse in the very early days. Almost twenty years later while your chances of seeing Miller behind the stove probably aren't good, among many other endeavors he's teaching courses at the University of New Mexico, the restaurant is as good as ever. And the best part about the Coyote Cafe experience is you have three different options to try their food: the formal Cafe, the casual rooftop Cantina and the lunch counter Cottonwoods.

Cafe San Estevan If you're looking for something eclectic and away from the main drag, visit Cafe San Estevan at the corner of the SanBusco shopping center. Café San Estevan also has an interesting story behind it: Estevan Garcia, owner and creator of the menu, is a monk with serious passion for food and flavors. His food combinations are quite unique, and the care with which the food is prepared is always evident. You can read more about Garcia’s story on the menu as you are deciding what to eat. The environment is a memorable melange of religious artifacts (surprise, surprise), burning candles and old wood; which makes for a completely romantic atmosphere.

Santa Fe Farmer's Market As much as I enjoyed eating in Santa Fe's restaurants and street stalls, which provided much of my green chile fix, probably my favorite food experience while there had to do with the community's incredible farmer's market. Every Saturday from 7am on, over 150 vendors sell everything from roasted green chiles (of course) to wild New Mexico pine nuts and artisanal sheep's milk cheeses. And as a farmer's market aficionado, having been to them on almost every continent, I must say it is one of the more exciting ones that I've been to in the United States. Maybe it was the morning I visited, but the energy level and variety was unparalleled when compared to other domestic markets I've visited recently. Also, the extensive prepared food offerings make it a great market to visit even if you're not interested in arugula or lamb shanks.

"Do you deliver to Manhattan?"

Chinn Chinn Restaurant in tiny Mattawan Michigan, just off highway 94 a few miles west of Kalamazoo, serves some of the best Northern Chinese food in the state. If you need a testament to this assessment just talk to my sister. A longtime resident of New York City, she lives within walking distance of hundreds of the countries best and most authentic Asian restaurants in Chinatown. Yet despite having tried many of them, she still claims the best Chinese food is found in this 10-table restaurant located in a strip mall next to a flower shop.

Now my sister may be biased by the fact that she was practically weened on the recipes served at Chinn Chinn, we all were. Long before chef/owner John Tsui opened his new restaurant, his parents ran Peking Palace, the original great Chinese restaurant in Southwestern Michigan, using many of the same recipes prepared at Chinn Chinn. While I was growing up my family would go to Peking Palace at least once a week with near religious consistency. In fact I typically found the experience of breaking-bread at Peking Palace (can you break steamed buns?) much more spiritual than church, but then again I'm a food person. The memories of sharing dinners of honey glazed chicken, crispy duck, or sichuan shrimp are good ones. Although my favorite Peking Palace memory would have to include the fun, and challenge, of dining with my 100-year old, legally blind, great grandmother Warner. A proper lady and the consumate host, I never saw her in anything other than a nice dress, she wouldn't dare enjoy her dinner until everyone had been served. And seeing how she would usually be dozing off by the time the food finally came, she typically self-medicated with a single glass of Warner Vineyard's Riesling, we had to feed her as soon as we arrived at the restaurant. This would require Mr. Tsui, John's father, to bring out great grandma's dinner as soon as we arrived at the restaurant. However, in order to get her to eat the food we had to convince her that we were also enjoying dinner. So everyone at the table would have to grab a teacup and smack it with a fork to mimic the sound of a massive feast. I will never forget the question she'd ask me every week while she was enjoying her dinner. She'd lean over to me as if she were going to confide a meaningful secret and say "how's yours?". I'd look down at my empty teacup and shining fork and reply "it's great grandma." To which she'd say "it is, isn't it" and continue with her meal.

Chinn Chinn Asian Restaurant
52885 N Main St
Mattawan, MI 49071
(269) 668-7667

Blueberry Fields

There's nothing better for a food lover than to find themselves situated in the heart of a major agricultural area at the peak of its crop's season. I had this experience recently while spending several weeks working in Southwestern Michigan. A veritable produce section of incredible fruits, including: peaches, raspberries, black raspberries, sweet cherries, tart cherries, strawberries and blueberries, especially blueberries.

The cool, damp mornings and hot, dry afternoons in Allegan county, with its 30 miles of Lake Michigan frontage, along with the sandy soil make it the perfect environment for growing beautiful blueberries. I've known this for years, as I grew up just in the next county, and have fond memories of making weekend trips to the lake to get some sun and stock-up on the areas most popular fruit. But recently I've been able to share these amazing berries with friends and clients in St. Louis, as I've been commuting back-and-forth to Michigan all summer usually with several large boxes of blueberries in tow (or in the carry-on). For people who've only experienced the $5 half-pint of sour blueberries from their local shopping center, it's a revelation. (On my last trip, a 10# box was running $20). If you're a blueberry lover the 6-hour drive to South Haven, Saugatuck or Douglas is well worth a long weekend trip. Don't forget, blueberries freeze really well. Just rinse, dry and portion into small baggies.

One of the classic blueberry memories of my childhood is a recipe, actually more of a combination, that my family acquired from Ruth Ellen Church, the late food and wine writer from the Chicago Tribune. It's incredibly simple, and undeniable delcious.

Blueberries
Serves 4

Fresh Blueberries, Rinsed and Dried 1 pint
Sour Cream, Creme Fraiche or Yogurt 1/4 Cup
Dark Brown Sugar or Unrefined Sugar 2 Tablespoons

In small bowls top the blueberries with a dollup of the dairy and sprinkle with the sugar. The crunchy sweetness of the coarse sugar with the creaminess of the topping and the texture of the blueberries is an incredible combination.

Salsalicious

It's summertime which means I'm cooking in Saugatuck, Michigan for the first family of food: The Winstons. Going North for a part of the summer has been a ritual of mine for several years now, and just as much a tradition once I've arrived has been the annual salsa making session with Rosalyn Winston (the oldest daughter). Usually Rozie and I couple our salsa with a larger Mexican feast, drawing many of the ingredients from the great Latin markets in Southwestern Michigan. On this occasion however we chose to simply fry some homemade tortilla chips and make a flavorful cooked salsa from the first of the summer's tomatoes. (I think I ended up making Chinese that night).

Rozie is a big fan of the type of cooked salsa I learned to make from the Mexican line and prep cooks who worked for me when I was running commercial kitchens. They had a very quick and easy recipe for their "comida" salsas which were typically made for staff meal, the meal a restaurant crew eats before or after service. The simple slate of ingredients usually included a whole ripe tomato, a whole jalepeno, one roasted onion and a generous dash of salt. Cover these ingredients with a little cold water and simmer until everything breaks-down, about 15-20 minutes. Then puree in food processor until smooth. We would eat it at room temperature with a squeeze of lime and freshly ground black pepper. It was incredibly refreshing, especially in a super-hot restaurant kitchen in the middle of summer.

For our salsa Rozie and I followed the general procedure that I learned years ago with a few modifications. First we blanched the tomato to remove the skin, which would make the salsa smoother. Then we seeded and stemmed the jalepeno to make it less spicy, something my Mexican crew would scoff at. Finally we peeled and diced a whole ripe mango to provide some added sweetness, important when not using local tomatoes at the peek of their season and ripeness. This salsa is great not only with corn chips but also as a sauce for grilled chicken or fish.

Rozie's Tomato Salsa
Makes 3 Cups

Ripe Tomatoes, Peeled & Diced 3 Medium
Sweet Onion, Roasted & Diced 1 Small
Jalepeno, Seeded & Diced 1 Small
Ripe Mango, Peeled & Diced 1 Small
Lime Juice from 2-3 Limes
Fresh Cilantro, Chopped (optional) 1/4 Cup
Kosher Salt & Fresh Black Pepper To Taste

Combine everything but the cilantro and lime juice in a medium saucepan with 1/4 Cup cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until everything is tender, about 20 or 30 minutes. Allow to cool slightly and puree in food processor or blender until smooth. Season to taste and stir in lime juice and cilantro. Serve at room temperature. Will keep for several days refrigerated.

Everything that Falls off a Hamburger

I taught a cooking class/team building event the other night for a group from Edward Jones with a focus on summer fixings, or as I fondly refer to them "everything that falls off a hamburger". The class was a hands-on exercise where we made a variety of homemade pickles, creative mustards, relishes and even my take on 'real' tomato ketchup, and then paired them with the appropriate main course (ie. sausages, burgers, steak, fish). I explained to the class that the subject matter was very near and dear to me not just because of the time in film school when I virtually lived off of condiments (who doesn't in college?), but rather that even today my favorite part of a good hamburger or sausage usually turns out to be the tangy, salty and sweet stuff that goes on top. So in the spirit of the "condiment season" here's a recipe for coriander-orange mustard. A super simple recipe, it's great with any type of burger or sausage, and is a great glaze for grilled salmon. Enjoy!

Coriander-Orange Mustard
Makes 1 Cup of Mustard

Coriander Seeds 1 Teaspoon
Dried Orange Rind ½ Teaspoon

Dijon Mustard, Smooth 1 Cup
Honey ½ Cup

Preparation Procedure-
Using a mortar and pestle or clean spice/coffee grinder grind coriander seeds and orange rind until powder. Mix with Dijon and honey. Refrigerate.

For the Pasta and Music Alone, Worth the 10-Straight Busy Signals

While in New York recently I had the opportunity to dine at Mario Batali's flagship eatery the revered Babbo Ristorante, which is by many accounts the toughest reservation in town. That would explain my purse-designer sister's glee at managing a Monday night same-day reservation (albeit after a mild onset of blackberry carpal tunnel from having to call 11 or 12 times to get through to the reservationist). For resident New Yorkers, where everything is crowded virtually all the time, gaining access to one of the coveted "crowded places" has an understandable cache attached to it. And despite, or perhaps as a result of, having just returned from a trip to Europe where I'd eaten in some of the best restaurants in the world, I was excited as well. Part of my enthusiasm came from having had great meals in several of Batali's other restaurants (Lupa & Esca). Also I thoroughly enjoyed Bill Buford's book Heat which documents in great detail life in the Babbo kitchen and the huge personality that is Mario Batali. Mainly though it was Babbo's reputation for serving delicious, creative, and authentic contemporary Italian food in an unfussy setting that had me hyped.

The Babbo experience did not disappoint. Their winelist is among the best Italian lists I've ever seen (the Franz Haas 'Manna' from Trentino-Alto Adige was a fun and memorable wine) and the food was exciting, yet familiar. We had some salumi made by Batali's father who has a salami shop in Seattle (when thinking about great salami who thinks the Pacific Northwest?), great lamb's tongue with morels (it tastes like full-flavored beef brisket) a bunch of different homemade pastas and assorted carne, as well as a Brachetto d'Acqui with some cheese for dessert.

In it's essence Babbo is a great neighborhood restaurant that no one in the neighborhood can get into (my sister lives a couple blocks away). I will remember the surreal environment of our dinner for a long time: elderly Italian couple to our left looking slightly confused, director Mike Nichols (The Graduate) to our right, Grateful Dead playing on the stereo as if we were at The Blue Bird in Leelanau, Michigan.

In the spirit of our "Pasta Fest", here's one of my pasta dough recipes. I use different doughs for different types of pasta, but this version is great for any stuffed pasta or an egg rich pasta (ie. tagliatelle).

Flour 2 ½ Cups
Semolina Flour 2 ½ Cups
Eggs, Room Temp 8
Olive Oil, Extra Virgin 1 Teaspoon
Water ¼ Cup, or as needed

Preparation Procedure:

In a food processor pulse flour and semolina to combine. Whisk together eggs and olive oil. With the machine running, pour the egg mixture through the feed tube and add just enough water for the dough to come together into a mass. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and knead for 5 – 10 minutes, until smooth and resilient. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes to allow dough to relax before proceeding.

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme..plus Basil, a lot of Basil

It's garden time for most of America. When we cooks ambitiously decide to plant three varieties of lavender to infuse our own honey or think that we'll finally have time to work on some recipes using lemon balm. Well here is where Kirk saves you quite a bit of time and garden space: you won't and you don't. Take it from me, someone who cooks with any and all unusual ingredients (everything from purslane to cuitlacoche), when it comes to your private garden save it's precious terra firma for herbs you'll use frequently. In other words: Italian parsley, thyme, rosemary, a little sage, chives, cilantro (pots), mint (pots), dill, tarragon (pot) and basil, a lot of basil. If space allows, I recommend planting twice as much parsley and basil as the rest, it's amazing how much you'll use with your favorite summer recipes. Also, plant the cilantro, tarragon and mint in pots. The cilantro and tarragon because they sometimes grows better if not constantly in direct sunlight and pots keep the mint from taking over the rest of the garden. Follow this recommendation and not only will you get a lot more from your garden, but will undoubtedly be surprised at how rarely you find yourself craving fennel pollen or lemon verbena.

Putting a Little Chez Panisse Back in Paris

I have been guilty for years of badmouthing restaurant food in France, specifically Paris. Not the cuisine, but the restaurants. I've always said that if you wanted to spend several hundred dollars per person, then yes, you could have a great food experience. That the so called "temples of gastronomy" (Guy Savoy, Alain Chapel, Alain Ducasse, etc.) were still knocking it out of the proverbial culinary park. But if you were looking for simply a really good restaurant serving solid, original food in a stylish environment- good luck! The types of local, independent restaurants we cherish, yet to a certain extent take for granted, in cities all over this country seem to be a rare commodity in France. Maybe it's the French labor laws or business culture that make it very hard for small, independent restaurants. Perhaps it comes from cooking a cuisine that is so revered that there aren't many young chefs willing to experiment or take chances. Who knows, so just when I was about to give up on eating out casually in Paris, I recently came across a gem on the left bank, adjacent to the Hotel Saint-Germain: Le Comptoir. Chef Yves Camdeborde clearly isn't one of those chefs afraid to take some liberties with his native cuisine. His locally sourced food prepared in a simply yet original fashion has taken Paris by storm. He is credited with reinvigorating the local food movement in restaurants throughout Paris. (I sampled the outstanding Brandade de Morue, Veal Breast with Baby Artichokes, French Green Lentil Soup with Foie Gras Butter). Dinner reservations for the incredibly reasonable, set prix fixe dinner are among the hardest to get in the city, so go for an early or late lunch. Here are the specifics for the next time you're in Paris:

Le Comptoir
Hôtel Relais Saint-Germain
9, carrefour de l’Odéon
Paris 75006
phone: +33 (0)1 44 22 07 97
fax: +33 (0)1 46 33 45 30

Cooking in Clapham

On a recent trip to the UK I had the opportunity to cook a modest, small-plate dinner party for 20 at my brother's home in the Clapham neighborhood of London. I say modest because typically these small-plate affairs require days of advance prep and I allowed myself only a day to prepare this spread. It wasn't a problem in that I followed one of the oldest rules of cooking: when working with exceptional ingredients, keep it simple. And at the Borough Market in central London, where I did most of my shopping, exceptional ingredients are about the only thing available. Now, I'm no novice when it comes to foreign markets, having frequented some of the best in France, Italy, Mexico and China, but I've never been as impressed with the variety and quality as I was on several recent trips to London's signature food emporium. To be honest, the Borough Market has had time to work out the kinks having been at its current location for over 250 years and in the vicinity for 20 centuries. It's a reality of visiting almost anywhere outside the US, but I couldn't help but pause to think that where I was buying turnips had been around longer than my own country.

When shopping at any market, and when I don't have any specific dishes in mind to prepare, I always visit the produce farmers first. Seasonal produce will change on a monthly, if not weekly, basis while things like meat and cheese will have less fluctuation (although the Scottish spring lamb I had in the UK was among the best I've had anywhere and according to the butcher only available for a few months). There is one clear sign that a market is a grower's market vs. a seller's market (a grower's market being one where all the food on had has been grown/raised by the people at the market while a seller's market is usually like an outdoor shopping center with merchants reselling shipped-in goods). If virtually all the produce being sold by the different vendors is the same and slightly unique (meaning not everyone is selling lemons and oranges) it probably is a grower's market. On the days I visited the Borough Market you saw a lot of beets, kohlrabi, bulb onions, and spring carrots. Some great looking stuff, but not a lot to work with. Thankfully, the various meat, seafood and cheese vendors more than made up for the slightly wanting early season produce. The primary seafood monger had an awesome array of European seafood that is hard to find in the US. Things like: in the shell Bristol Bay scallops, red mullet, langoustines, smoked eel, as well as a variety of native French and English Oysters. Then there was Scottish spring lamb, fresh rabbit, guinea hen, quail, capon, squab.. for some reason it all made me think about Jean Renoir's classic class, hunting film "Rules of the Game" (in retrospect as my anniversary was only a few days away perhaps I should have been reminded of 'Tom Jones'). But despite my enjoyment of shopping at the various butcher stands and seafood tables, probably the highlight of the market for me, and I'm sure many others, is Neal's Yard Dairy's shop just of the central market. The room could have been a scene out of 'Wallace and Grommit' for its cartoonish quantities of cheese (yes, of course there was a Wensleydale). The best part was you could sample any of the offerings. The great thing about visiting this market, if you enjoyed it as much as I did, is that while the memories might very well be fleeting, the smell of the ripe cheese on your hands probably isn't.

The biggest challenge for me whenever I cook in Europe, having done it several times now, isn't the unfamiliar terrain for shopping, lack of staff help, or even slate of new ingredients. No, the most frustrating thing always ends up being the size of the refrigerators. Usually about the size of the trunk on a SMART car, the old country's ice closets are typically energy efficient and indicative of a culture that does it's shopping every day (and I must say this is one of the things I LOVE about Europe). But tell that to someone lugging enough food for a multi-course meal for thirty (including 15# of sea scallops in their shell, a slab of lamb, and enough NYD cheese to open a wine & cheese shop). Needless to say, it's a good thing I wasn't planning on prepping several days prior to the dinner.

The dinner itself, after the extensive shopping and carting of goods throughout London's underground train system, was pretty low-key. Mostly native-English colleagues and friends of my brother and sister-in-law. They were all intrigued at the idea of having family visit for "holiday" and then putting them to work cooking a dinner for several dozen. They clearly didn't know my family, where even if it's just four of us, we still cook for twenty. Yet despite the ease with which we cook for large groups, I must say, it's nice having an assistant, albeit a neophyte. My wife, Carol, who I've been reluctant to bring into the cooking business as she already does everything else better than me, was a wonderful assistant and did a great job in putting her abilities as an artist to work in finishing many of the dishes. It ended up being a lovely affair with everyone seemingly having a "grand" time. We served: Treviso Radicchio with NYD Blue Cheese, Blood Orange & Balsamic, Dates stuffed with Chicken Liver & Almonds, Lamb Satay with Sri Lankan Spices, Kohlrabi with Smoked Herring & Pickled Beets, Crab Tartlets with Creme Fraiche and Asparagus, Grilled Pizzettas with Assorted Spanish Hams & Cheeses, Sunchoke & Potato Gratin with Cumin Flecked Dutch Farmcheese, among other things I can no longer recall. After any party you usually come away with observations, like: "it was a big eating group" or "they loved the red wine". On this night I couldn't help but commenting that none of the English guests ever sat down. This wasn't that unusual, as most of the food was designed as finger food and could be enjoyed in one-bite, but the fact that they all stood for almost five hours straight surprised me a bit. Maybe it has to do with the fact that they're so used to running out for more foodstuffs, because they weren't able to fit it in their refrigerators the first time, that they never allow themselves to settle-in. Just a theory.
Then again if I lived near the Borough Market I'd run-out every chance I got.

Dispatches from London

They used to say that the "sun never sets on the British Empire", which of course hasn't been true for decades. After a recent trip to London I must comment on an equally antiquated misconception regarding English food. An old joke has it that English accents were developed because the Britons were trying to find ways to talk while preventing British food from entering their mouths. At one time true? Perhaps. But it couldn't be further from the truth in modern Britain. In fact, one would have a hard time arguing that London isn't one of the top food cities in the world. Naysayers would claim that this amazing "food revolution" is the result of transplants cooking foreign food (ie. French, Indian, Japanese), and that English food is as bland and uninteresting as ever. Having just returned from the UK, where I made it a point to explore "New English Cooking" in all its forms, innovative and delicious takes on traditional English food are flourishing today throughout the UK. Here is a short listing of my must-visit restaurants serving inspired cuisine.

The Fat Duck Labelled the 'Best Restaurant in the World' by Restaurant Magazine (albeit an English publication), Heston Blumenthal's Michelin 3-star establishment invites comparisons to other food destinations (think El Bulli) that play with the chemistry of cooking. Located in a 450-year-old former pub in the quaint village of Bray, about an hour outside London, The Fat Duck experience is difficult to put into words. Borrowing from the experience a chef colleague of mine had at El Bulli, Ferran Adria's landmark restaurant in Roses Spain, he said: "I can totally respect the experience, but I'd never want to cook that way." It is eating as an intellectual exercise, designed to have you question the very nature of the foods you've grown-up eating. Blumenthal adheres to the principles of 'molecular gastronomy', according to which the quality of the diner's experience can be enhanced considerably when the physical and chemical processes that take place in cooking are understood. Thus the menu reads like a child's worst culinary nightmare: 'snail prridge', 'sardine on toast sorbet', 'salmon poached with liquorice', 'nitro-scrambled egg and bacon ice cream', but plays-out in a much more satisfying way. In fact the snail porridge was a revelation, tasting like the best onion soup you've ever had. However, the sardine sorbet and salmon poached in liquorice were interesting but not nearly as delectible. All in all, if you love food, you'd be short-changing yourself by not sampling this type of food experience at least once. It can be a lot of fun, a fancy restaurant run by Willy Wonka, and by all accounts it is where "eating as entertainment" is headed. (If you don't feel like travelling to Spain or the UK, Alinea in Chicago is getting rave reviews in doing similar culinary experimentation.)

St. John If The Fat Duck is Willy Wonka cooking, the St. John is Sweeney Todd. Located in the heart of London's meatpacking district, and to borrow from the title of its creator's (Fergus Henderson) cookbook, St. John is "Nose to Tail Eating". Renowned for their use of the whole animal, you won't find any chicken breasts on the menu, St. John is an offal lover's paradise. The setting is stark white and bare, the walls are simple adorned with coat hooks. It gives the impression of eating in some Orwellian asylum. But that is the point. St. John is a 'temple of the hog' (or cow, or lamb, etc.), where the raw material is the star. You'll find no herb sprig or micro green garnish, in fact you don't even usually get a sauce unless it's part of a braise. What you will get is impeccably sourced and prepared New English food: 'middlewhite & chicory', 'smoked eel, bacon & mash', 'Braised Ox Kidneys & Swede'. Not to mention amazing classic desserts (just think a lot of puddings). St. John is Chez Panisse from a working-class, British perspective.

The Anchor & Hope I had been hearing a lot about gastropubs before I travelled to the UK. It seems recently that any new restaurant to open in the states with good, simple, often locally sourced food and a list of boutique beers is labelled a gastropub. Now after visiting one of London's most popular gastropubs, the Anchor & Hope, it could easily have been labelled "favorite neighborhood joint in a good food city". While that doesn't exactly roll off the tongue like gastropub, what I'm trying to say is The Anchor & Hope reminded me of a lot of independent, casual, restaurants in the US. Dark wood, no pretense, a solid wine list with a few good beers on tap. The menu is printed daily, and has some fanciful European-inspired dishes 'torchon of foie gras with prunes' as well as English staples 'steak & kidney pie'. It was the kind of place I could see myself visiting every week. And you could sense the community that had developed there. It was like a great neighborhood restaurant in New York or San Francisco.

Irish Eyes Can Smile, But We're Making Choucroute

As the most significant holiday to revolve, at least to a certain extent, around cabbage, St. Patrick's Day isn't exactly a gourmand's dream. If you're a food person the dry meat, boiled potatoes, chalky bread, and the aforementioned boiled cabbage (with the distinctive aroma of your 12-year-old's gym socks) is enough to turn you green. And since Americanized cuisine associated with St. Patrick's Day is as authentic to Ireland as deep-fried ravioli is to Italy, I don't feel bad recommending my Alsatian-style Choucroute (sauerkraut) with Pork and Sausages. In my thinking, good sauerkraut is to cabbage what caviar is to fish roe. So skip the faux Irish feast and try this true homage to the sublime cabbage. If you still don't feel right about it, buy some Guinness.

Alsatian-Style Choucroute with Pork & Sausage
Serves 6-8

Roasted Pork Loin, Bone-in 5-6#, Sliced into Chops
Assorted Cooked Fresh Sausage 6-8 Sausage, Cut in 1/2
(use a variety: chicken sausage, good-quality hot dogs, bratwurst, etc.)
Peeled, Cooked Creamer Potatoes 6-8 potatoes

Thick-Cut Bacon, Cut into 2” 8 Pieces
Onion, Sliced 1 Onion
Carrot, Shredded 1 Medium
Celery, Shredded 1 Stalk
Bagged Sauerkraut, Rinsed/Drained 2#
Juniper Berries, Sachet 8
Bay Leaves, Sachet 2
Kosher Salt 1 Teaspoon
Fresh Black Pepper To Taste
Green Lentils, Cooked (optional) 1 ½ Cups
White Wine 1 ½ Cups
Chicken Stock ¾ Cup
Tuscan Kale, Julienned (optional) 2 Cups

Italian Parsley, Minced (to garnish) 1/2 Cup

Preparation Procedure- Preheat oven to 350d.
In a large braising pan, brown bacon over medium-high heat. Add onion, carrot and celery. Cook for 5 minutes or so, add sauerkraut, sachet (juniper and bay leaf wrapped in cheesecloth), and kale. Cook until kale is wilted, add wine, lentils (if using) and chicken stock. Bring to a boil, season with salt and pepper. Cover with parchment and foil (or lid). Bake for 1 hour. Remove from oven, add pork, potatoes and sausage, bake for 25-30 minutes. Garnish with parsley.

The Kitchen Travels to NYC

I just got back from several days of corporate leadership work on the East Coast. One of the growing offerings of Kirk's Traveling Kitchen is corporate development (ie. leadership training) programs involving food and/or wine. These programs are a fantastic opportunity for small or large businesses to develop communication skills, bond as a team or explore how working in a tight spot can empower their employees(think active kitchen with lots of sharp knives/hot pans and the deadline of being responsible for different parts of a meal that will be judged by trained chefs). In the global, multi-cultural work place these types of cooking programs are the "new golf" (and for most participants a lot more fun and rewarding).

Besides the time spent working I also got to spend a day with my sister (a purse designer in Chelsea with her own line raw-bags) exploring what's happening on the New York food scene. Here are my impressions:

Mary's Fish Camp This tiny, seafood restaurant in The Village is a reminder of the type of restaurant I crave most in my native St. Louis: the unpretentious neighborhood joint. MFC offers fantastic seafood of all kinds, and also runs a fish camp in Florida. Try the lobster roll, fried smelts or bouillabaisse.

Fatty Crab Another tiny restaurant in The Village (anyone catching a trend here), but Fatty Crab is a unique, Malaysian-inspired gem. Even smaller than Mary's Fish Camp and with an eclectic menu of crispy pork, crab & noodles. When you think Malaysian, think: shrimp paste, chiles, kejap manis and palm sugar. On there own they don't inspire reverence, but when these ingredients get combined (in one form or another) it's magic. One of my favorite features, besides serving the best Asian beer in the world: Hitachino Nest, is actually something they don't do. Fatty Crab doesn't have a dessert menu, rather they bring a few delicious coconut bars with the check. With the popularity and quality of New York's various "dessert bars", I give kudos to Fatty Crab for not trying to make Malaysian-inspired creme brulee.

Upstairs at Bouley The most casual installment of Chef David Bouley's restaurant empire (Bouley, Danube, Bouley Bakery, Etc.) is also one of the coolest second-floor restaurants I've visited. With a great, open kitchen and sushi bar they offer one of the most eclectic, quality menus in New York (burger, gnocchi, eel nigiri..what?). I highly recommend this route to trying the food of one of New York's best chefs. Gear-up for the wine list, however. It utilizes the offerings from the fabulous Bouley/Danube lists and has a median price of well over $100 per bottle. (Burger + First-Growth Bordeaux= Hardee's Commercial).

August As rustic as you're going to find in New York, this restaurant could easily be a Northern California transplant. A warm space, complete with a wood-burning oven and glass-enclosed atrium, I wanted to visit again when it was snowing. I had an incredibly creative, cubano-style, sandwich with chorizo, gruyere, dates & mustard. It's a 'wich I'll not soon forget.

Culinary Verite

During my short stint at film school in the mid-90's I was constantly asked the question:"What's your favorite movie?".
I'd always answer that picking one was impossible, but perhaps I could narrow it down to ten (and even that might be a stretch). Well now that my professional life has taken a decidedly less cinematic turn, the question du jour is now the equally tough: "What's your favorite food?". Which, as I think about it, might even be more difficult to answer (although I'd pay to see the
10-course, winner-takes-all bout: Rustic Italian vs. Royal Thai). So in an effort to answer these questions, simultaneously, I am now going to list my favorite "food films", in no particular order.

Eat Drink Man Woman (1994) The opening scene of this Ang Lee masterwork is one of the most visually stunning filmed food sequences in history. And if you feel like Mexican, rent "Tortilla Soup" a lesser remake with a Latino flare.

Babette's Feast (1987) A Danish film based on the short story by Isak Dineson. If this film doesn't make you want to throw a beautiful dinner party, nothing will. This film was the inspiration for 'Chocolat', just without the metaphysical mumbojumbo.

Celebration (1998) Another Danish film, this one by Thomas Vinterberg, but with a black comedic streak. A great film to watch at family gatherings, provided there are no major skeletons in the closet.

Tampopo (1995) The Japonese noodle film with a great performance from a young Ken Watanabe.

Heavy (1995) This small, indie made by James Mangold is more a story of unrequited love than a foodie film. However, the scenes at the Culinary Institute of America are interesting.

Mostly Martha (2000) German chefs falling in love while on the line. Believable and entertaining, with great scenes in the kitchen.

Big Night (1996) There isn't a "top food films" list that doesn't include this one. I added it simply for the "two starches" scene.

And a few films that aren't really food related, but have really powerfuly scenes involving food or cooking: Goodfellas (garlic), Munich (French cooking, offal), The Cook The Thief His Wife and Her Lover (cannibalism).

It's 2007, Eat Healthy

I'm not one for resolutions, especially when it comes to eating. So I'm not going to lecture about all the great things you can do with white meat chicken and brown rice now that the holidays are over and you want to try and shed the pounds brought on by Aunt Nancy's fruit cake. But if eating healthier without having to resort to chemical-laden "fat free" cheese recipes is your aim, I can point out a couple of cuisines you should get to know better: Vietnamese and Thai.

Both offer assertively flavored dishes that focus on contrast (think: sweet/spicy, crisp/soft, tangy/smooth, etc.). And they derive their flavor primarily from fermented seafood (fish sauce, shrimp paste, etc.), citrus and chiles. Not from tons of oil, butter or other high-fat, high-calorie components. And both Vietnamese and Thai food offer delicious, healthy choices for this time of year, the calendar period formerly known as winter (I'm writing this in St. Louis and it's sixty degrees). A lot of brothy soups and stews full of vegetables and finished with fresh herbs. Here's a recipe for my version of a classic Thai soup Tom Yum Gai.


Thai-Style Hot & Sour Broth with Shrimp Dumplings
Serves 8

Chicken Stock, Homemade 2 Quarts
Lemongrass, Minced 2 Stalks, Inner Leaves Only
Fish Sauce ¼ Cup
Chile Oil 1 Tablespoon
Lime Zest 1 Lime
Lime Juice 1 Lime
Lemon Juice 1 Lemon
Kaffir Lime Leaf (optional) 1 Leaf

Shrimp Dumplings
Shrimp, Peeled & Deveined 1#
Shallot, Diced 1 Small
Garlic, Minced 2 Cloves
Oyster Sauce 1/2 Cup
Edamame, Peeled (Soy Beans) 1 Cup
Fresh Basil, Julienned (optional) 1/2 Cup
Gyoza Potsticker Wrappers as needed
Egg, Beaten 1

Bean Sprouts 4 Cups
Favorite Vegetables (Broccoli,
Carrot, Snow Peas, Etc.) as needed
Cilantro 1 bunch
Lime, Cut in 8 wedges 1
Preparation Procedure-

First make the dumplings. Combine shrimp, shallot, garlic, oyster sauce, edamame, and basil in food processor. Blend until comes together, but not so much that it looses all texture (you don't want a paste). Transfer to a bowl and refrigerate for 30 min. or so. Meanwhile, lay out gyoza wrappers on clean surface and brush with egg wash. Top each wrapper with a spoonful of shrimp mixture (about 2 Tablespoons worth), press down so the mixture spreads over wrapper and bring together in the palm of your hand (it should look like a jelly fish without tentacles). Set aside on parchment lined sheetpan and finish remaining dumplings. Bring water to a boil in a wok or large skillet, place dumplings in a bamboo steamer lined with lettuce or some other green so the pasta doesn't stick. Steam dumplings for 5-8 minutes or until cooked through. Turn off heat and keep warm.

For the hot and sour broth, combine all the broth ingredients, bring to a rapid boil and simmer for 30 minutes. Remove from heat and steep 20 minutes longer. Strain, ladle over warm dumplings, bean sprouts and favorite vegetables. Garnish with cilantro, lime wedge and serve.

Coming Up For Air..with Goat Cheese Stuffed Dates


I promise there is a very good excuse as to why I haven't posted anything here in quite a while (try seven weeks!). Actually, many good excuses. Private parties, corporate events, many cooking classes, and, not to be left out, even an episode for a reality TV show. Anyway, before I start ranting on why I don't have pets and only keep plants that can live on humidity, let's get to the point. After all, it's not like you don't have stuff to do.

One of the most popular appetizers I've been making this holiday season also happens to be the easiest. It's a classic combination, with a slight twist, and is absolutely perfect as a holiday hors d'oeuvres.

Goat Cheese Stuffed Medjool Dates

Medjool Dates, Pitted/Halved 10-15
Brandy ½ Cup
Goat Cheese, Softened 8oz.
Whole Almonds, Marcona 10-15ea.
Pappadew Peppers, Quartered 6-8
Bread Crumbs, Preferably Homemade 1 Cup

Preparation Procedure-

Preheat oven 350d.. Soak pitted/halved dates in brandy 15 min. or so. Remove from liquid and stuff with almond and goat cheese. Top with piece of pappadew pepper and bread crumbs. Place on lined sheet pan and bake 10-15 min. or until toasted. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Restaurant Gary Danko

On a recent trip to Northern California I had the opportunity to work at one of the best restaurants in San Francisco, and the country for that matter: Restaurant Gary Danko (www.garydanko.com). Through the cookbook author and culinary world traveler Joanne Weir (she and chef Danko studied under the culinary legend M. Kamman) I was able to line-up what the restaurant industry refers to as a "trail" or "stage", spending a day observing the action behind the kitchen doors. Trailing is both a courtesy and a requirement throughout the restaurant world, in the states and abroad. Since restaurants began chefs have allowed, even encouraged, their peers to explore their kitchens, observe the staff, the technique, food, etc.. It's considered an opportunity to share ideas and see a different way of doing things. And while restaurants often utilize similar systems to produce their product, there are always facets that are unique to each system. (For example at Restaurant Gary Danko, they have a waiter, instead of a chef, act as the expeditor, the person who organizes all the plated food and ensures it goes to the right table and is properly prepared.) Trailing also is a practical way to weed-out prospective cooks who want to gain entry into a kitchen. Most good restaurants require cooks to work several shifts "trailing" an established line cook, often without pay, at a restaurant where they'd like to work. It allows the staff to assess the applicants abilities, temperment, cleanliness, etc. The more successful and respected the restaurant, the higher the demand for trailing opportunities. So when the chance came to spend a day at Gary Danko, I jumped at it.

I arrived at the restaurant and entered via the sliding door around back. Restaurant Gary Danko is located in the Russian Hill section of San Francisco, a beautiful, ritzy neighborhood overlooking the bay. I met with Colin, the ranking sous chef, and he preceded to give me a tour of the restaurant. Their kitchen is consistent with those of most nice restaurants located in the heart of expensive cities. It is compact and every inch of space is occupied. The pastry station on one end, butcher's corner on the other, with the various stations in between. Colin explains to me that the kitchen was refurbished several years ago, when new formal Garland ranges were installed and the line set-up to more efficiently accomodate the 170 to 200 patrons they serve nightly (Restaurant Gary Danko typically fills its available reservations two months out; after all it has a higher Zagat rating than The French Laundry). The dining room is very formal (a meal for two, with wine, will easily surpass $200)and Northern California modern, with a lot of exposed dark wood. By the time we finish the tour the kitchen is abuzz with activity (the night cooks arrive before 1pm and are lucky to be done by midnight) as the line cooks and daytime prep chefs jockey for space. Despite the overall size of the kitchen (about half the square footage of several kitchens where I've worked) there appeared to be twice as many cooks scheduled to work as I was used to (for the size of the restaurant). Like a good liberal arts college with its low student to professor ratio, the true mark of a exemplary restaurant is the ratio of people working to people eating. Where a high-quality midrange restaurant might expect to schedule 5 cooks to serve 170 guests, Restaurant Gary Danko had 11 working. Another distinguishing trait between really good restaurants and "special" restaurants is the service staff. At Gary Danko these individuals, a well-starched, confident and professional looking group, seemed to know they were a part of something important and world-class. They had a laidbackness born from complete confidence in what they were trying to do. As if they were so sure of themselves and the kitchen that they didn't have to be stuffy.

The food at Restaurant Gary Danko is understated and prepared with great technique. Surveying the kitchen you could see that each cook had been taught the intricacies of their station: the fish cook knew how to handle delicate seafood, the meat guy let his beef rest before slicing it, etc.. It was exciting to watch this competent group work their way through an ambitious menu during a busy dinner service. The menu parity was impressive as well. With each wave of 'courses' each item from the menu seemed to get ordered (Gary Danko offers the option of a 3 course/$61, 4 course/$77 or 5 course/$92 prix fixe). Things like Guinea Hen with Clam Ragout and Moroccan Spiced Squab sold in unison with Beef Tenderloin and Herb Crusted Loin of Lamb. Another mark of a superior restaurant, having a clientele willing to try unusual dishes knowing that they will not be disappointed.

As is the tradition with trailing in the restaurant world, I came away from my experience at Restaurant Gary Danko with an idea of how to do some things differently as well as with affirmation that I do many things in the kitchen exactly as they should be done. The exhilaration of watching some of the best in the business do their work and witnessing them do it just as you would is supremely satisfying. I left knowing that my culinary journey is not yet complete, but glad to know at least I was on the right path.

Dog Days of October

For well over a week I had been planning on for my next blog entry to be a toast to the changing seasons; out with the summer bounty and in with the fall harvest. But as the temperature here in St. Louis approaches the triple-digits in the first few days of October, I now think it better to combine the summeresque weather with the autumnal date through the help of a recipe that focuses on cooking in both seasons. (After all, how often do you get to enjoy the changing colors of the leaves while sweating your butt off?) Why not light up that grill one more time before storing it away for the long, extremely cold winter (or at least that's what the farmer's almanac says it'll be). This recipe for Celery Heart Salsa Verde is perfect with grilled beef, pork or salmon and utilizes one of my favorite vegetables, one in it's prime during the fall and winter, the versatile celery root. Celery Root (aka. "celeriac") has a pungent celery-like flavor and is, in fact, a special variety of celery, developed by gardeners during the Renaissance. It is delicious prepared any number of ways, but I especially like it in its raw state; in the spirit of the traditional French remoulade (a creamy, tart relish made from celery root). So pull-out the deck furniture, throw-on your favorite short-sleeved BBQ shirt and savor the summer one last time. Just don't try serving a sliced tomato salad.

Celery Heart Salsa Verde (Makes 3 Cups)

Celery, Pale Inner Stalks,
Plus all Leaves, Small Dice 2 Cups
Celery Root, Peeled/Diced ½ Cup
Pappadew Peppers, Diced ½ Cup
Pappadew Pepper Brine 1/3 Cup
Capers, Soaked in Cold Water 4oz.
Anchovy, Soaked/Minced 2 Fillets
Shallots, Sliced Thin 2 Small
Garlic, Hand Minced 3 Cloves
Chives, Minced 2 Tablespoons
Italian Parsley, Minced 2 Tablespoons
Extra Virgin Olive Oil ½ Cup
Salt & Fresh Pepper To Taste

Preparation Procedure-

Combine, mix thoroughly. Keeps 10 days. Goes great with any grilled or roasted meat.

Surprise in What?

I had planned on devoting more time to this entry, but the forces of nature and a big party tomorrow have conspired to keep it brief. As part of a monthly food bloggers event titled "Sugar High Friday" and hosted this month by St. Louis' own Alanna Kellogg (for SHF specifics visit her blog: (kitchen-parade-veggieventure.blogspot.com/2006/08/surprise-announcement-sugar-high.html). This month's SHF theme was "Surprise Inside" recipes, meaning a sweet treat with a special something under the surface. I actually came up with my recipe for a cooking class I was teaching this week at the local Viking Store. It was a fundraiser for the Clayton Farmer's Market where I was paired with a local farmer- a bison farm to be exact. Suffice it to say my interest in creating a "Bison Pot de Creme" was nil (although what a "surprise inside" that would have made). Instead I adapted this moist apple cake flavored with green cardamom (much less assertive than black) with a molten center of caramel sauce made with apple cider. It's seasonal and a little different, but not as surprising as it could have been.

Cardamom-Apple Cake with Molten Cider-Caramel

Quantity Produced: Makes 12 Individual Cakes

Tart Apples, Peeled/Grated 6 Apples
Light Brown Sugar, Packed 3 Cups
Eggs 3
Flour 3 2/3 Cups
Green Cardamom, Ground 1 teaspoon
Cinnamon 1 ½ teaspoons
Salt ¼ teaspoon
Baking Soda 2 ½ teaspoons
Pecans, Chopped 1 ½ Cups
Vanilla Extract 1 ½ teaspoons
Butter, Softened 3 oz.
Oil, Canola (neutral oil) 3 oz.

Cider-Caramel Sauce (Makes 1 ½ Cups)

Apple Cider 3 Cups
Vanilla Bean, Scraped 1
Dark Brown Sugar ½ Cup (Packed)
Butter, Unsalted ¼ Cup
Heavy Cream ½ Cup

Preparation Procedure for Cider-Caramel Sauce-

Reduce cider by half, add vanilla bean, sugar, butter and cream. Reduce until thick. Keep warm

Preparation Procedure for Apple Cake-

Preheat oven 350d.. Combine softened butter & oil in mixer using paddle attachment. Add sugar, egg and vanilla. Mix until combined. Add dry ingredients (flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon & cardamom).
Mix until combined. Add grated apple and chopped pecans, mix until combined. Using greased individual ramekins, spoon cider-caramel into bottoms of each ramekin (at least 1 Tablespoon) and top with spoonful of apple cake batter. Bake 45min. to 1 hour. Dust with powdered sugar and serve warm in ramekin.

Paul's Killer Pots

In the close-knit world of farmer's markets, and those who frequent them, it's inevitable that certain farmers become known for their profile almost as much as the produce they're growing. In the St. Louis area markets you have: The Picture Perfect Abrahams of Berger Bluff Farm (known for their tomatoes & leafy veggies), the Hip & Happening Sam and Joanna of Claverach Farm/Vineyard (salad mix & micro greens), Rock Solid Dave H. of Prairie Grass Farm (all things lamb) and renaissance Paul of Bellews Creek Farm (exotic squash & potatoes) to name a few. When I was in need of some potatoes for a party this past week I knew I could count on renaissance Paul at the Wednesday, Maplewood farmer's market. I'm not the first to dub Paul a "renaissance Man", most of the St. Louis food community are familiar with his big personality and broad passions. Paul is just as likely to be building a new house or barn (virtually by himself) as drying his own chipotle peppers or black beans. His farm, out in Jefferson County, is agro-WillyWonka; an eccentric's workshop masquerading as a family farm. You'll find wrought-iron sculptures mingled with homemade farm contraptions, and always a mysterious structure or two in the works. Of all the farmers whose produce I admire, Paul is the only one who seems to do it as a hobby. This is not meant as a slight on his farming, as he clearly knows as much as anyone in that field. It's just that he is as respected for his breadth of knowledge on matters mechanical and artistic as he is for his kick-ass chipotle peppers or Kennebec potatoes. And on this day it was those Kennebec potatoes that drew me to him.

Kennebec potatoes are an excellent all-purpose cooking potato, but I especially love to boil and peel them for warm German-Style Potato Salad. (The quality that makes them the perfect "all-purpose" potato, is a great balance of starch and wax.) Try them with the following recipe.

German-Style Potato Salad (serves six as a side dish)

Kennebec Potatoes* 1 1/2#
Sweet Onion, Sliced 1 Medium
Bacon, Baked 3/4 crisp, Diced** 8 Slices
Bacon Drippings 1 Tablespoon
Olive Oil 2 Tablespoons
Mustard Seed, Brown & Yellow 2 Tablespoons
Celery Seed 1 Teaspoon
Cider Vinegar 1/3 Cup
Brown Sugar, Light 1/4 Cup
Honey 1/4 Cup
Dijon Mustard 2 Tablespoons
Italian Parsley, Minced 2 Tablespoons
Fresh Black Pepper To Taste
Salt, Kosher To Taste

Preparation:

In large pot cover the potatoes (prewashed) with cold water and a few pinches of salt. Bring to a steady simmer for 12-15 minutes, checking regularly. When just starting to become knife tender, and before you see any cracks, remove from heat. Let sit in the water 15 minutes or so (the key to this salad is for the potatoes to be cooked yet still slightly firm). When the potatoes are the desired texture (remember "al dente"), carefully remove to a strainer and let cool. Do not rinse the potatoes with cold water, but when cool enough to handle peel with a sharp paring knife. Cut the potatoes into quarters and cover to keep warm. Meanwhile, sweat the onions, bacon, mustard seed and celery seed in olive oil and drippings for 5-8 minutes. Deglaze with cider vinegar and dijon mustard, honey and brown sugar. Cook until sugar dissolved then add potatoes, parsley and seasoning (salt & pepper). Toss until potatoes are coated. Serve warm or at room temperature.