Urban Renewal

Posted on October 26, 2011 by Val

Urbano Pizza Bar
Los Angeles, California

The Selvatica, a pie featuring basil pesto, roasted tomatoes and pine nuts

The Selvatica, a pie featuring basil pesto, roasted tomatoes and pine nuts

Does Los Angeles really need a new pizza joint? Well, it couldn’t hurt. There are a plethora of pizzerias throwing their dough in the ring but coming up short when it comes to churning out quality pies, with fierce competition in a city that has a long way to catch up with New York and Chicago. Urbano Pizza Bar is kicking it old school with pizzas made in wood fired ovens that have a traditional crispy charred and bubbly crust but meld a variety of unusual ingredients together on top. The location is a bit odd – on its downtown Los Angeles corner the space looks like it would be more comfortable as a CVS or mobile phone store than a pizzeria, but that all changes once inside. The decor is a throwback to days gone by with rough-hewn wood paneled walls, tin ceilings, a wooden floor and counters, tables and fixtures reclaimed from old downtown structures. One long marble-topped table runs almost the length of the room; attached wooden swivel stools swing out from beneath the table like old high school cafeteria seating while tomato cans hold silverware and napkins. The surprising aspect of Urbano is space – although you may find yourself eating communal-style at the ling table, there’s a ton of elbow room. There doesn’t appear to be anchovies available as a topping on the menu, nor will you feel like one packed into a tin.

Everything old is new again, including communal cafeteria seating

Everything old is new again, including communal cafeteria seating

Most of the menu items utilize the brick ovens, with most of the starters and wood-fired items comprised of roasted vegetables. The menu was developed by Top Chef winner Chef Ilan Hall who also commands the kitchen at nearby The Gorbals; Chef Hall was on hand on my visit to personally bring out some of the dishes being served. The la Querica prosciutto Americano was mild, flavorful but without the smokiness of Iberian or Italian ham; the thinly sliced ham came unadulterated on a metal tray and since it was the first item brought to the table I mistakenly expected the other menu items to be mild or bland in nature. A stack of artisan pizza bread was crusty and airy, charred with a hint of smoke; the chunks of bread were lightly coated in an almost translucent lathering of fresh, coarse tomato sauce making it the perfect dish for something light at the bar to absorb your alcohol.

Charred corn with balsamic butter (orange)

Charred corn with balsamic butter (orange)

A bowl of roasted corn was dressed with a balsamic aioli, greened up with crisp, fresh basil and topped with a bizarre orange balsamic butter that dissolved over the corn. The kernels were firm and fresh and the flavors from the other ingredients accented the corn without killing the flavor. The vegetable dishes were amazing – roasting preserved most of the snap in the eggplant caponata with baby squash and created a nice texture on the outside of the fingerling potatoes that almost made them taste grilled. Urbano’s meatballs are served on what is essentially a toasted pizza dough English muffin – the flavor of the rare meat is allowed to come through with a conservative application of sauce topped with cheese shavings and fresh basil. Although the Chef Hall’s presentation was nice, I was secretly lusting after a meatball sub stuffed with these savory orbs.

A caponata of eggplant and baby squash

A caponata of eggplant and baby squash

The main event at an establishment called Urbano Pizza Bar is obviously the pizza, and I recall having a low expectation level when I arrived that was vaporized in the wood fire when the pies were brought to the table. The scimmietta was breathtaking – the tell-tale sign that something was different was the orange topping where one traditionally finds the tomato sauce. In its place was a sweet pumpkin purée and dancing about the surface was crispy bacon, unmelted chunks of goat cheese and shredded basil. I have enjoyed pumpkin and bacon (prosciutto) pizza elsewhere, but Urbano’s turns the whole thing sideways with the pumpkin being the wet work as opposed to a chopped vegetable topping. The flavor of the pumpkin permeated each slice, and the texture of the pie was perfect – neither hard and crunchy nor limp and soggy.

The Testa Verde with ricotta and Irish cheddar cheeses and spinach

The Testa Verde with ricotta and Irish cheddar cheeses and spinach

The Selvatica had a wonderful taste from the basil pesto merging with the gooey, melted cheese and the flavor of the roasted sun-dried tomatoes and crunchiness of the toasted pine nuts. There were fresh chopped basil leaves added at the end on top, but they really added only color since there was enough basil flavor imparted from the pesto. I thought Testa Verde was an appropriate name for their ultra-green pizza, although it almost demanded an Irish name – lumps of firm ricotta cheese rose in tiny mounds out of pools of buttery Irish cheddar and an army of just-past-wilted baby spinach to create a very Gaelic-looking pie. Other pizzas such as the fennel sausage-laden Salsiccia and the wild mushroom Fungi pie had more of a traditional look about them, and I can’t be certain but they seemed to have more of a delightful char to them than the other pies.

A sweet, goo-filled desert experiment

A sweet, goo-filled desert experiment

For dessert, Chef Hall brought out an experiment for us to try – a pizza dough tart with a gaping ricotta and fruit wound in the middle. A well-placed knife cut issued forth an ooze of sweet, sticky fluid, and although the taste was nice I think I would have preferred a sturdier filling; still it was reminiscent of a zeppole taking a walk on the wild side. My attitude was flipped like Neapolitan pizza chef tosses dough; the quality and taste of the pizza was a welcome surprise and it was a wonderful experience to forget I was in downtown Los Angeles for a while. Los Angeles may not rank up with the Big Apple and Windy City when it comes to pizza, but a visit to Urbano Pizza Bar will make you fugetaboutit.

Urbano Pizza Bar
630 West 6th Street
Los Angeles, CA 90017
GPS Coordinates: 34° 2’55.22″N 118°15’19.97″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s visit to Urbano Pizza bar in downtown Los Angeles, California

NOTE: This cost for this meal was provided by the restaurant. The content provided in this article was not influenced whatsoever by the organizer of the event.

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Candy Is Dandy But Licorice Quicker

Posted on October 25, 2011 by Val

Licorice

Soft and flavorful Australian licorice

Soft and flavorful Australian licorice

Not since Marmite has a substance either generated instantaneous revulsion or evoked a deep breath and a smile; to some it has the effect of Kryptonite, while others are instantly transported back to when they were children, walking out of the corner store with the familiar rattle of a box of Good & Plenty in their hand. To those when asked if they like licorice who answer, “I like red licorice” I can only assume the Monkees are your favorite British Invasion band. As there is no cheese in head cheese, coffee is not a bean, and peanuts are not nuts, there is no licorice in red licorice. True licorice is an extract from the root of a member of the legume family (again with the beans) usually made into candy form with molasses resulting in the dark color. Licorice root is naturally sweet but also with a slight medicinal burn; although it is often mistaken for anise/fennel, the plants are unrelated. Some licorice is also flavored with anise, which gives it a familiar aroma as well and resulting in confusion with many anise-flavored liquors such as ouzo, Sambuca, absinthe, pastis and aguardiente thought of as “tasting like licorice”

On a personal level, I have a love for licorice that has evolved into an addiction; I must cast a pathetic dark silhouette cruising up and down the seedier side of town looking for that all-night Stop and Shop where I might be able to score a $2 bag of Scottie dogs. When my eldest offspring was but a wee food adventurer we were taking in an exhibit at Boston’s Museum of Science that delved into the sense of smell; several unmarked containers had lids that could be opened to allow you to guess what the smell released was. Juli could not correctly identify the smell of a musk deer (afterwards dubbing it “deer-ass”), but after opening the lid with the aroma of black licorice, both of us headed for the museum gift shop to see if we could score a fix.

I’ve loved licorice candy as far back as I can remember; Twizzlers are now synonymous with the aforementioned pretender to the throne, “red licorice”, but black licorice was the original confectionery company’s flavor of choice since the mid-1800s. A competing candy manufacturer (American Licorice Company) has manufactured “that red stuff” under the name Red Vines since its inception in the 1950s, thankfully giving a less deceptive name to the candy. Since the dawn of the 20th century, the New England Confectionery Company’s Necco Wafers featured licorice (the black disk) as one of the original flavors, and it continues to be included in the candy manufactured today (which incidentally makes a great projectile in a plastic tracer gun).  Good & Plenty has been chock full of licorice goodness since 1893, but part of the guilty pleasure of eating them was pretending they were pills. Good & Plenty had the extra added bonus of having a hard candy shell, either white or pink (with the pink ones allegedly getting their color from crushed insects).

The dark Necco wafers are licorice flavored

The dark Necco wafers are licorice flavored

Licorice candies are also available in bags or loose form; Australian licorice is sweeter and softer resulting in happier dental technicians everywhere. Panda brand licorice comes in small boxes and while a little chewier than Australian licorice is packed with more flavor. Most candy stores that have loose bins of candy will have Scotty dogs, a firmer and teeth polluting form of the candy – although the licorice flavor is pretty intense, you’ll need about a box and a half of floss after consuming a handful of them. For those who like their licorice somewhat muted, all-sorts are a licorice candy that originated in Britain with additional flavors and textures including nonpareils, coconut and fruit-flavored gelatin creating a nice entry-level foray into the world of licorice. A word of advice – stay away from Trader Joe’s all-sorts – they come in a plastic bag which usually reduces the candy to a gelatinous sticky mess. For a walk on the wild side (Finnish-style), there’s salted licorice. The Finns take the familiar Swedish fish shape and make a licorice that utilizes salt in the manufacturing process; this isn’t licorice candy with salt crystals sprinkled on to it, the salt permeates the confection all the way through. I am a self-confessed licorice junkie, but I can’t get past a single piece of these saline treats – eating one makes me wish it was actually made of some tiny black fish.

Black Jack, the original flavored gum inspired by General Santa Anna

Black Jack, the original flavored gum inspired by General Santa Anna

When you’re leading an army of several thousand to the Alamo to quell the uprising (or attending Occupy San Antonio), why not have a stick of Black Jack gum in honor of the exiled Mexican general that inspired it. In 1884, New York businessman Thomas Adams created the first flavored chewing gum (Black Jack) after encountering General Antonio de Santa Anna chewing on chicle he brought with him to Staten Island. The gum was out of production for years, but nostalgia has brought it back through Cadbury, the company that acquired Adams – if you’re so inclined, you can also get clove gum, another of the early flavors. At Rocket Fizz (a candy and soda store in the western U.S.) you can pick up your Black Jack gum and a variety of licorice candies as well as a bottle of their house brand of black licorice soda that packs a flavor punch with the unmistakable licorice taste and aroma.

Lake Street Creamery's co-owner Beth Colla prepares an Extreme Black Jacker

Lake Street Creamery's co-owner Beth Colla prepares an Extreme Black Jacker

Los Angeles gourmet food truck Lake Street Creamery (CLOSED) is more than an ice cream truck – it’s like an ice cream parlor on wheels, right down to the gold leaf script lettering and red awning where you order your frozen confection. Lake Street Creamery has a variety of unique flavors, including one called Pancake Breakfast that tastes like… well, like a pancake breakfast, but what brought me to the truck was to try their homage to Black Jack gum – the licorice-flavored Black Jack ice cream.  In addition to scoops, Lake Street Creamery will happily make floats for you, and their Weird Creep will combine a scoop of Black Jack with grape soda. I was in the market for a float, but wanted something that gave that extra push over the licorice cliff, that took the flavor to eleven. Proprietor Beth Colla was kind enough to make me a float using a bottle of the Rocket Fizz black licorice soda and a scoop of the Black Jack, garnished with Good & Plenty and functionally accompanied by a pair of black licorice straws. The result was an all-out assault that made my head explode in a cataclysm of licorice flavor; the cold, creamy treat screamed licorice while not being so overwhelming to only allow a taste. It was a magnificent celebration of licorice, a licorice-lover’s dream come true, the ice cream permeating the soda and being amplified by the flavor imparted from slurping it up from the straw, with the licorice pellets remaining from the denuded Good & Plenty adding chewy component to the ice cream left at the bottom. A shot of aguardiente would make this the perfect hot summer adult drink for the licorice aficionado.

Portland's Ruby Jewel's power-packed salted black licorice ice cream

Portland's Ruby Jewel's power-packed salted black licorice ice cream

Sisters Lisa Herlinger-Esco and Becky Burnett started out selling ice cream sandwiches at Portland Farmer’s Market in 2004, working at it six years before opening their first Ruby Jewel ice cream shop in Portland, Oregon. Eschewing the standard Open/Closed sign most restaurants use, Ruby Jewel has a neon “scooping/not scooping” notification poised prominently over the doorway. There are about 7 standard flavors they scoop on a daily basis, but Ruby Jewel delves into the unusual on occasion to offers flavors such as sweet potato pie and cranberry ginger. One of these occasional flavors gives pause, even for licorice aficionados – salted black licorice. The first odd quality of the confection is its dark beige color (the expectation being that it should be black); this is natural, as Ruby Jewel doesn’t add any artificial coloring to their ice cream. Because of the cream and sugar, the sour edge of typical salted licorice is subdued – the licorice bite doesn’t settle in until after the first few spoons. As popular as this seasonal treat is, approach with caution – this dessert is in league with garlic and soy sauce ice cream in that you have to understand what you’re getting yourself into. Even for licoricephiles, I highly recommend a tester spoon first.

Chaplin eats a real licorice shoe in Jason Mecier's "The Gold Rush"

Chaplin eats a real licorice shoe in Jason Mecier's "The Gold Rush"

If you love licorice enough to hang it on your wall, Jason Mecier (the Rembrandt of Red Vines) can do a portrait of you in Red Vines and licorice straws. The candy is glued to plywood and then laquered, but the art is better appreciated taking a few steps back. Mecier recently did a show entitled “Licorice Flix” at the iam8bit gallery in Echo Park in which he rendered television and movie stills with a candy, licorice or red and black reference in Red Vines and black licorice. The fun part is figuring out the tie-in, and although I was tempted to start at  corner of Willy Wonka and work my way across, the glue and lacquer render the art inedible. Even iam8bit’s logo was cleverly recreated in Red Vines.

Licorice is an acquired taste, and some are never able to acquire it, but once it grabs you there’s no letting go. I hope I can explain to the Feds that all those plants under the UV lights in the shed are actually licorice…

Ruby Jewel
428 SW 12th Ave
Portland, OR 97205
GPS coordinates: 45°31’19.84″N 122°40’59.09″W

iam8bit
2147 W. Sunset
Echo Park (Los Angeles), CA 90026
GPS Coordinates: 34°4’39.14″N 118°15’53.72″W

GALLERY: See images of the ton of licorice Val has consumed in his quest for licorice nirvana

See and hear the slide show / podcast of Val having the Extreme Black Jacker licorice float at the former Lake Street Creamery ice cream truck

Posted in Portland, Oregon, Trippy Food (Tasty flora and fauna), UK, USA | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

How Bazaar!

Posted on October 15, 2011 by Val

The 2011 Anatolian Cultures and Food Festival
Costa Mesa, California

The omnipresent nazar (evil eye) hangs from the entrance to ward off bad energy

The omnipresent nazar (evil eye) hangs from the entrance to ward off bad energy

There is a high degree of probability that the average man on the street with an American public school education couldn’t tell you who or what the Anatolians were; you’re likely to get an answer in the form of a question along the lines of, “Weren’t they the dudes with the purple shrouds and Nikes waiting for the comet?” or “Wasn’t that those guys with the black and white faces on Star Trek?”.  Anatolia is one of the most influential cultural centers in recorded human history, encompassing most of modern-day Turkey, as well as parts of Georgia, Armenia, Iran, Iraq and Syria and has been home to or occupied by a wide variety of higher civilizations including the Roman Empire, Greece, Persia, Armenia, Assyria and the Ottoman Empire (and no, Man On The Street, the latter is not a furniture chain in North Carolina). The Anatolian Cultures and Food Festival (the third such event to be held on the sprawling Orange County Fairgrounds) is a celebration of the legacy of each of these groups, including music, food, art, industry and architecture.

A Mardin stonecutter at work

A Mardin stonecutter at work

It was apparent at the entrance that this was would be a culturally enlightening experience after having to walk beneath a giant nazar (“evil eye”) dangling from the gateway arch. Simply navigating the layout of the festival was itself a history lesson; upon entering, a more than a dozen portals along Civilizations Road led through several thousands of years from the earliest Anatolian cultures to the modern Tűrkiye arch that opens into the fairgrounds. At each Stargate, representatives of each culture greeted fairgoers in typical period clothing, willing to be captured standing next to tourists with their favorite digital soul-stealing devices, and trust me when I say that these may just have been the hardest working staff members at the festival (picture mustering a smile after standing for 8 hours on heated blacktop in leather strap sandals).

The central area was populated by umbrella-topped tables and a conveniently located Ottoman Coffeehouse; at the far end, musicians and folk dancers performed on a massive stage during the course of the festival. Cities of antiquity ringed the fairgrounds, cleverly recreated in small scale using a unique process combining photography and carpentry in an effort to realize photo-perfect recreations of historic structures. The concept sounds a little cheesy until you become acclimated to it; metal and wood frames give the structures depth and dimension; actual photographic images are then overlaid on the frames to create three-dimensional photographic renditions of the landmarks. Walking along the grounds past, around and through these structures gave the impression of walking through a photo album; some of them featured educational and historic displays, and booths just inside each city’s gates offered textiles, art, and craftworks that the featured city is renowned for. A group of musicians playing traditional Sufi music performed on a small stage set up in the city of Konya and halfway through their “set” brought up a member of the Mevlevi Order of Sufi who demonstrated the practice of “whirling” as part of the formal Sama ceremony. I was considering the whirling dervish a performer but was educated to the fact that his spinning was a religious practice and was asked (along with the rest of the audience) to refrain from applauding. Although the dervish never reached the velocity of Warner Brothers’ Tasmanian devil I have to marvel at his ability to rotate constantly without painting the audience with karnıyarık or landing on the small children seated in the front of the crowd.

A whirling dervish doing what they do best - whirling

A whirling dervish doing what they do best - whirling

In addition to landmark structures from the cities of Istanbul (featuring the Blue Mosque and Maiden’s Tower); Antalya (with the stone Aspendos amphitheater and Temple of Apollo); Demre; Mardin; Konya (framed by Karatay Gate);  and, Van (with models of Hosaf Castle and the oldest surviving Armenian Church of Akhdamar), a scale model of Istanbul’s Topkapi Palace was home to the festival’s sultan and his court as the actual palace was during the 600-plus years Turkey was ruled by the Ottoman Empire. A 35-member mehter Ottoman Marching Band paraded across the grounds to perform for the sultan in front of the palace and even without amplification they could be heard from anywhere on the grounds, almost drowning out pop singer Ferhat Atli performing on the main stage.

The sultan awaits the musical procession

The sultan awaits the musical procession

The Grand Bazaar was the perfect place not only to pick up Anatolian souvenirs for the kids (“My dad went to the Anatolian Festival and all I got was the evil eye”) but also to watch craftsmen selling works created on site. Naturally, travel agencies, airlines and telecommunications companies were also on hand, but I made my way quickly past them to the Anatolian Cuisine Cooking Stage to watch Chef Sureyya Gokeri demonstrate the preparation of Ali Nazik, a dish featuring ground meat with eggplant/yogurt puree. Chef Gokeri earned personal points by turning in a very real and honest performance – it was like watching your mother preparing dinner (if Mom was Turkish). For the most part, she touted using Turkish ingredients, constantly answering her own question to the audience as to why you should by loudly proclaiming, “Because they taste better!” and emphatically stating that the most important ingredient in Turkish cuisine is love. At one point she ladled a generous plastic spoonful of the ground beef into her mouth, shook her head and quietly said, “Nope. It’s not hot enough”.  Foodie snobs would have dropped their serviettes in shock as Gokeri’s assistant milled through the audience with a foil tin full of the moist and savory concoction, handing out spoons for all to “dip”, but I was in my element and the time I invested in watching the demonstration paid off in spades.

Women preparing the tortilla-like pastry by hand for gözleme

Women preparing the tortilla-like pastry by hand for gözleme

A spoonful of sugar may help the medicine go down, but a spoonful of Ali Nazik is hardly enough to satiate an Anatolian hunger, so a stroll to the food court was in order. A replica of the Fountain of Ahmet III stood in the middle of the food court area, where the spigots on the faux-marble walls that have quenched the thirst of weary travelers since 1728 were providing endless streams of dollar lemonade, but I was saving my liquid intake for the Ottoman Coffeehouse after some substantial fare. The City of Corum was scooping out massive handfuls of leblebisi, a roasted chickpea snack they’re famous for. The copper-clad roaster used to make the leblebisi looked like a high-end cement mixer, but it wasn’t churning out product while I stood there. The chickpeas had a smooth, polished, hard shell with a dry and starchy interior. More than a handful of these (tasty as they were) would have driven me to deep-throat one of the lemonade fountain spigots.

There were so many amazing dishes I’d never heard of or imagined, making the task of settling on a main course harder than Sophie’s choice. I opted to the Anatolian equivalent of a beef burrito – the tantuni. This ideal street food is created by liberally filling a hot lavash (a tortilla-like, flour-based flatbread) with seasoned ground beef, onion, and what I swear to you looked like pico de gallo and then rolling it into a handy, portable bundle wrapped lovingly in a sheet of paper. And the taste… well, was like a ground beef burrito – a delicious, savory ground beef burrito. At a nearby stall I was unable to resist the come-hither of mantı, a diminutive Turkish dumpling that is vended by the cup rather than by the piece. Each Lilliputian, slightly al dente dough packet contained beef and onion and was topped with a ladle of warm yogurt sauce; I sprinkled sumac and dried flakes of mint on top creating a cup of complex flavors and textures that was unlike any other ravioli or dumpling dish I’d ever tried.

Preparing small batches of künefe by hand

Preparing small batches of künefe by hand

Several booths were making künefe, a crispy and sweet dessert that resembled a mutant grilled cheese sandwich. Sweet Nabulsi cheese was sandwiched between layers of threaded phylo dough and then cooked golden brown in a huge flat pan rotated over heat that made it look like a lumberjack-sized pancake. Straight off the stove the cheesy pie was cut into slices and then doused with a ladle of brackish-looking sugar-based syrup. I was expecting a teeth-folding sweetness like its nearby cousin, baklava, but even with the sugar sauce it wasn’t overly sweet. A chef from Hatay (the city where the dish originates) also had a tray of pickled black walnuts in syrup, and when I say walnuts I’m not referring to the nutmeat extracted from the hard, woody shell we’re familiar with. The nuts are removed from the tree prior to the development of the shell, still encased in the pulpy covering and then brined whole resulting in a remarkably tender fruit that was almost unrecognizable as walnut.

Although I’m not much of a dessert person, I was captivated by the güllaç, a wet, white pastry dish. The dough is made from corn starch and wheat flour and layered like lasagna with pistachio and garnished with pomegranate seeds; after its milk bath, the cold dessert tastes like a simplistic cross between rice pudding and noodle kugel. Being that I was stuffed like a karnıyarık, I fought the urge to queue up for dondurma, a sticky ice-cream that is most likely more fun to watch being served than to eat. Erol Kozoglu enjoyed teasing his patrons, holding the confection out (cone attached) with the long metal scoop used to crowbar the ice cream loose and then snatching it back before they could grasp it. The ingredients used to make it result in a chewy ice cream that is probably closer in texture to salt water taffy than a scoop of your favorite Cold Stone flavor.

Industrial-strength Turkish coffee

Industrial-strength Turkish coffee

I waddled over to the Ottoman Coffee house for a dainty cup of sturdy, hair-straightening Türk kahvesi (Turkish coffee) and waited about 15 minutes while each cup was brewed by hand. The can of Turkish roast used read “Kurukahvev Mehmet Efend”, which I believe is Turkish for “You’re not man enough to handle this cuppa Joe” – the presentation in a green polka-dot demitasse cup did nothing to hide the fact that this was the kind of coffee that would fuel you for a 16-hour shift of back-breaking labor. I wanted the traditional preparation, but light on the sugar and I wasn’t disappointed with what I received. Only slightly sweet, the coffee was full bodied (you could say it was buff) and obviously strong, yet neither bitter nor burnt tasting. One of the other cafe patrons made the mistake of stirring his, which distributed the silt at the bottom as thick as Euphrates mud throughout the beverage.

I honestly had no idea what to expect at the event but was more than pleasantly surprised – the entire visit was a learning experience from trying to communicate with the ESL vendors, to experiencing traditional music, to sampling the amazing cuisines of the different Anatolian cultures;  I’m already planning to rock the cradle of civilization at next year’s event.

Anatolian Cultures and Food Festival
Orange County Fairgrounds
88 Fair Drive
Costa Mesa, CA 92626
GPS coordinates:  33°39’56.67″N 117°54’3.51″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s’ visit to the 2011 Anatolian Cultures and Food Festival at the OC Fairgrounds in Costa Mesa, CA

Try to make your own Ali Nazik using this recipe

Posted in Middle East, Trippy Happenings (Events) | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Val’s Big Adventure

Posted on October 9, 2011 by Val

The Tim Burton exhibit at LACMA, Ray’s and Stark Bar
Los Angeles CA

Portal to the bizarre and wonderful Tim Burton exhibit at LACMA

Portal to the bizarre and wonderful Tim Burton exhibit at LACMA

If Tim Burton was a band he’d undoubtedly be Pink Floyd – the nonsensical absurdity of Syd Barrett folded into the childhood angst and lament of Roger Waters. The LACMA exhibit is a comprehensive retrospect of Burton’s art from his formative teenage years (when he was drawing cartoons for advertisements and signage for the city of Burbank, California) through the art produced for and inspired by his films. The influence Mad Magazine had on the young Burton is undeniable; many of his early drawings imitated the floppy, google-eyed style of Mad’s Don Martin, with later nods to Antonio Prohias’ Spy vs. Spy with characters featuring impossibly triangular heads living in a black-and-white stark-lined world. Burton’s work can be somewhat uncomfortable to take in on a grand scale – where there is beauty, it is surrounded by pain; he creates a universe torn from the mind of a nihilistic Frida Kahlo and populated by industrial monsters. The three dimensional pieces are also stark and disturbing – a blue baby doll is geographically punctured by 60d nails; a fat, carnivorous centipede wearing a German WWII helmet wages battle; gnarled tree branches twist into botanical grotesques.

Untitled (Ramone), 1980 - 1990, Tim Burton (© Tim Burton)

Untitled (Ramone), 1980 - 1990, Tim Burton (© Tim Burton)

As the exhibit progresses along a chronology, Burton’s drawings and paintings take on a quality befitting of Ralph Steadman and Gerald Scarfe with dark spatters of what hints at a variety of fluids – recurring themes include psychotic clowns that make Stephen King’s Pennywise seem like Ronald McDonald and would undoubtedly make a Juggalo soil his panties; Burton’s trademark candy striper and prison uniform stripes are everywhere. A step through a black curtain becomes entry into Burton’s cinematic art, where the familiar takes over. The first item on display is a demented carousel in a black-walled room softly illuminated by UV light; the Day-Glo sculpture is similar to the headgear Michael Keaton’s wore as he ascended from the floor of the Deetz’ residence in Beetlejuice. The movie props and models draw immediate recognition – the maze winds through Large Marge’s consecutively larger eyeballs; Michelle Pfeiffer’s cat suit from Batman Returns (which lying flat in a display case has about 100th of the appeal it did on Pfeiffer) along with The Penguin’s baby pram and a series of Michael Keaton’s latex masks; a mannequin with Johnny Depp’s costume from Edward Scissorhands including a not-so-threatening-up-close bladed glove in a nearby case; and puppets and models from several films including Nightmare Before Christmas and The Corpse Bride.

The featured Dr. Burton (L) and Patina Cuvée sparkling brut (R)

The featured Dr. Burton (L) and Patina Cuvée sparkling brut (R)

The exhibition appropriately ends on Halloween (October 31st); attendance will likely increase as that date grows closer, and the lines on Halloween will probably be longer than an Oingo Boingo reunion show. Chances are you’ll work up an appetite as you stroll hand-in-hand through the Valley of Darkness, easily remedied by a stop at Ray’s and Stark Bar on the courtyard entrance to the Burton exhibit. Burton himself helped create a drink being offered by Stark Bar for the duration of the show, the slyly-named Dr. Burton. This syrupy concoction is a blend of soda water, Don Q white rum, Cherry Heering, Amaretto Di Saronno and Amaro CioCiaro digestif, cheerfully accented with a fresh cherry and it’ll make your hair stand on end faster than you can say Jack Skellington. The first sip hits like carbonated cough syrup, but the drink becomes slowly addictive; a word of warning – like the Burton exhibit, this is not a drink for the faint of heart.

Silverware is hidden in a drawer at the table

Silverware is hidden in a drawer at the table

For a while, Ray’s was offering Burton-themed menu items in conjunction with the exhibition; these included the Alice in Wonderland-inspired “Rabbit with Tea in a Mushroom Forest” featuring bacon-wrapped bunny with Mission figs, onions, chanterelle mushrooms and pistachio as well as a tribute to Edward Scissorhands (razor clams in squid olive broth with octopus and piquillo peppers over polenta). Unfortunately the ability to source high-quality ingredients was for a limited time and so the “Dr. Burton” is currently the only Burtonesque item, but the cuisine at Ray’s is itself art and worthy of attention. Ray’s itself is reminiscent of a display case; at some of the tables recessed glass cabinets hold the items from the Ellen Palevsky Cup Collection, a variety of tea cups and saucers by designers from the 1920s through the 1950s. Even the tables have an artistic slant – the silverware is tucked into a drawer built into the furniture.

Okra with fried peanuts bacon and coconut

Okra with fried peanuts bacon and coconut

Our post-Burton dining adventure started with a curious and refreshing half-dollar-sized amuse bouche of golden watermelon gelée with miniscule cubed cucumber, Chambord and basil; plated, it begged to be lapped up but I wisely chose a spoon as my implement of destruction. A toasty-skinned ricotta gnudi featured 2-day aged ricotta gnocchi and the sage and brown butter made these fluffy bites smoky and earthy. One surprising dish as odd as a Tim Burton sculpture was an okra plate with fried peanuts, Allan Benton bacon, chili and coconut; prior to this moment, if you had told me that someone had accented okra with coconut and peanuts, I’d have told you that you were nuts, but the crunch of the fried peanuts, the sweetness of the coconut and the kick from the chiles turned lowly okra into one of the standout dishes of the evening.

Creative and artistic pork belly with golden watermelon

Creative and artistic pork belly with golden watermelon

Prior to its arrival at the table, I had envisioned the marinated bay scallops in avocado crema and tomato jelly with caviar as a hopped-up ceviche, but the dish was a departure, with the sweet, delicate scallops imparting a wonderful soft taste; as ambitious as the roasted chile stuffed with venison chorizo was, the char on the pepper overpowered the taste of the deer, a feat I would have thought impossible. I had to laugh slightly when our waiter Pedro called it “chile relleno” since that’s obviously what it was, although in a very clever disguise.

Boudin blanc with puréed potato

Boudin blanc with puréed potato

The dish to beat had to be the pork belly with golden watermelon, a creative and aesthetically pleasing arrangement of checkerboard cubes of each with a crown of basil and flanked by tiny pools of basil seeds. I wasn’t sure is I should eat it or have it framed, but after my first flavor-packed bite I was calling it temporary art. The natural black pig pork had a thin crust and a mild flavor that was complemented by the watermelon bringing out the sweetness until the chile crept up from behind with an insidious kick to the head. Disrobed, a cleverly disguised bangers and mash was discovered to be a boudin blanc accompanied by a cream-based puréed potato with truffle butter and truffle oil and what should legally be declared the new sauerkraut – a mound of tangy-yet-mild shredded Savoy cabbage. The sausage was heady with a hint of truffle and was handily sliced into segments perfectly sized for dipping in the mash.

Air Dancers, 2011, Tim Burton

Air Dancers, 2011, Tim Burton

The final dish looked like the miniature aftermath of a cockfight; two denuded quail lay prostrate atop a bed of white grits in a litter of ground sausage, whole grapes and Idiazabel cheese. The grilled birds were moist as hell, unusual for poultry with not much meat, but they had been brined prior to grilling. Although this resulted in tender meat that separated easily from the bone, there was a little residual saltiness present that a spoonful of the grits neatly curbed. I was initially disappointed that the Burton items were unavailable, but the astounding culinary artistry and parade of flavors that made its way to the table more than made up for it.

The Tim Burton exhibit is visceral, bizarre and slightly disturbing but it is well worth a visit for a peek inside the mind of a creative genius and for the nostalgic value of taking a cinematic journey through his films. Tim Burton-inspired menu or not, Ray’s and Stark Bar is also worth the visit for the creativity, edginess and artistry of the cuisine. If you decide to head on down the road and check it out, be sure to tell ’em Large Marge sent you.

Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA)
Ray’s and Stark Bar
5905 Wilshire Boulevard
Los Angeles, California 90036
GPS Coordinates: 34°3’48.17″N 118°21’32.10″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s’ trip to the 2011 Los Angeles County Fair in Pomona, California

NOTE: Admission to the Tim Burton exhibit at LACMA and dinner at Ray’s and Stark bar was provided by organizer of the event, who did not in any way influence the content of this article.

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Hats Off To Larry

Posted on October 7, 2011 by Val

Larry’s
Venice, California

A collection of Larry Bell's signature hats perched above the bar

A collection of Larry Bell's signature hats perched above the bar

Venice Beach, California is legendary for its kitsch and culture; on a typical day’s stroll along Ocean Front Walk you’re likely to encounter knife juggles on ladders, turbaned roller skating guitarists, fledgling filmmakers, breakdance and aerobatic squads, tattoo artists, and quite possible sculptor and artist Larry Bell. Bell emerged out of the Los Angeles art scene in the 1960s, gaining so much renown and popularity that his image was used on the cover of the Beatles “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” album. When friend Erwin Sokol (owner of Hotel Erwin) decided to develop property for a restaurant, he honored Bell by dedicating the restaurant to him and asked if he would lend his name (Bell obliged, designing the restaurant’s logo and donating some of his signature hats for display over the bar).

Smoked eel foie gras terrine - new life for a traditional idea

Smoked eel foie gras terrine - new life for a traditional idea

The space (designed by L.A.’s Spacecraft Group) pays homage to Bell’s signature glass cube sculpture; while maintaining a sense of artistry, it’s unpretentious, a place where you could feel comfortable popping in for a cold one on tap. For the time being, the head height glass portion of the walls allow the shore breeze in with a retractable canopy for shade, but with the cooler weather coming up Larry’s may get some more substantial winter clothes. A restaurant and bar with an artistic slant is a nice initial draw, but in a city full of giant murals and public art it won’t stand a chance unless you can deliver with the cuisine. Enter Chef Brendan Collins, the culinary genius who put his own spin on British and Continental cuisine at Waterloo and City to earn it a nomination for a 2011 James Beard award for Best New Restaurant. Collins (Los Angeles’ king of charcuterie) is most likely the hardest working man in the restaurant business, splitting his time between Waterloo and City and Larry’s. The menu has Collins’ fingerprints all over it, but featuring dishes befitting the eclectic artistry of Venice Beach – familiar items reimagined and turned inside out.

They come for the Sonoma lamb burger but return for everything else

They come for the Sonoma lamb burger but return for everything else

Because of Larry’s location, Chef Collins anticipated folks dropping in for a burger and beer; in fact, when they first opened they were flipping 70 to 80 burgers a day, but now that people have developed an appreciation for the more creative fare, that number has dwindled down to about 10 daily. Of course, if you still want that burger, Collins is happy to oblige with a Sonoma lamb or dry-aged beef patty nested on a crispy bed of greens that is juicy and flavorful; like the nearby Muscle Beach outdoor gym it not-very-quietly screams, “Meat!” Chef Collins has a reputation as a man with guts, and in that category he doesn’t disappoint – a firm, smoked eel foie gras terrine pays subtle tribute to the jellied eel he grew up with, but turns it up to 11. Tender chunks of eel sit suspended in a mix of piccalilli and Madeira jelly in what amounts to a veritable aquatic head cheese. Still have an offal hunger? Consider Collins’ signature smoked salmon foie gras, a creamier-than-hell gut butter that’s most likely the sexiest thing you’ll ever spread on brioche.

A slice of shrimp diablo pizza that tastes as great as its name

A slice of shrimp diablo pizza that tastes as great as its name

I mentioned familiar items reimagined, though didn’t I? My apologies, how thoughtless of me not to mention the pizza. Larry’s pizzas are a labor of love, the result months of exhausting research to develop a recipe that works; with prime near-oceanfront real estate comes the challenge of creating pizza dough using live yeast that isn’t obliterated by the salt air. Collins tried 7 types of yeast and found the stabilizing agent in the home of pizza’s drinking buddy, beer (specifically Alexander’s malt extract), resulting in a perfect crisp and toasty crust. An artisan pizza crust like this can’t be draped in just any old topping, buddy boy – we’re talking four pork (sausage, bacon, prosciutto and chorizo), wild mushrooms, arugula and burrata cheese, and the astounding – wait for it – camarónes diablo. Collins turned the fiery classic dish into the ultimate Mexican pizza with heat from roasted poblano chiles and a homemade Tabasco sauce slightly tamed by the cheese and perked up with fresh cilantro. How he was able to capture the shrimp trying to free themselves from a spicy cheese hell without overcooking them is beyond me, but I was too busy stuffing my face, crust and all, to ask questions.

Bacon-wrapped salmon with beets and gnocchi

Bacon-wrapped salmon with beets and gnocchi

Larry’s bacon-wrapped Rathmullan salmon is a pork-clad torpedo that defies whatever you thought this dish would look like when jettisoned to the table. The savory section of cylindrical seafood is warm and melty (assisted by the fat left in the smoked Allan Benton bacon); although the pork fuses with the salmon, it pulls away easily with a fork, so you don’t have to worry about ending up with a bacon streamer hanging out of your mouth. The rather odd placement of the salmon on a mini heap of beets and gnocchi with a horseradish crème fraiche and balsamic vinegar by all rights should not work, and yet the complex array of flavors make their presence known without overpowering each other or the salmon.

Slow-cooked osso buco lamb shank with acini de pepe

Slow-cooked osso buco lamb shank with acini de pepe

It’s a mystery to me how five people can attack a few tapas-style shareable plates and still top off the tank, but there was only room for a few cozy bites when Chef Collin’s turn at Mediterranean cuisine arrived in the form of a succulent osso buco lamb shank. The flesh leaned towards the strong side which can put off some diners but whereas I loves me some lamb I let the flavor take me out to the rugged Italian hillside. Collins forgoes the traditional risotto in favor of tiny acini de pepe pasta in a mix of cornichons, capers, red onion, gruyere cheese, sautéed mushrooms, mint, cilantro and a Greek yogurt dressing, which busy as it is doesn’t detract from the lamb. If you’re lucky and the marrow hasn’t percolated out of the shank bone you’ll have some additional flavor to add to the dish.

Larry’s is many things including an art space, a gathering spot after a day at the beach to knock a few back, and a platform to sample some of the innovative and creative dishes from the palette of Chef Brendan Collins. It’s been about a week since my visit and I know this may sound strange, but I want you back… hats off to Larry’s.

Larry’s
24 Windward Avenue
Venice, CA 90291
GPS Coordinates: 33°59’13.24″N 118°28’23.22″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s lunch at Larry’s in Venice, California

NOTE: This cost for this meal was provided by the restaurant. The content provided in this article was not influenced whatsoever by the organizer of the event.

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