Portlandia, I Love You

THE wings.

Every time I visit Portland, I have to rethink my decision not to move there.  Partially this is because I always manage to visit during their glorious summer, but mostly it's because of the city's incredible food and beverage culture. 

I never cease to be amazed at how much creative deliciousness is available, all over the city, at every price point.

On my most recent visit last week, I was struck by the popularity of "drinking vinegars" -- something I had only recently discovered thanks to the "Spring Shrub" cocktail at Goose & Gander.  In Portland, these fruit vinegars aren't just at cutting-edge temples of mixology; you'll find them at the downtown farmer's market and neighborhood Thai restaurants, among many other places. 

One of the tastiest beverages of my trip (an extremely competitive field) was the non-alcoholic tamarind vinegar soda at Pok Pok Noi.  Tart, savory, and refreshing, this was the ideal pairing for the restaurant's famed Ike's Vietnamese Fish Sauce Wings, Spicy style.  The punchy acidity made me think I was sipping a cocktail and should ease up on my drinking speed, but no matter how fast I drank or how many I had, I was going to be fine biking home.  And in Portlandia, that's essential.



Tamarind Som.

The Pok Pok restaurant group calls its vinegars "Soms," and now distribute 16-ounce bottles of the standard flavor assortment online.  Another Portland company called Blossom Vinegars proudly hawks its own interesting selection of drinking vinegars at farmers' markets around town.  Think blueberry-basil, and apple-jalapeno vinegar.

Why is wine country behind trend on this? With so much olive oil, grape juice, and culinary talent, you'd think we would be leading the infused vinegar movement.  But Portlandia is leagues ahead of us here.

Discovering the Sahagun Ka-Pow "coffee bar" in a random cafe also humbled my Bay Area food snobbery.  As you can see from the picture, this thing looks like any other premium dark chocolate bar, but it's made entirely of coffee beans, sugar, and cocoa butter -- no cocoa mass at all.  The interior texture reminded me of a Kit Kat with its crystallized honeycomb of crunchies, but the flavor was pure coffee -- Extracto Roasters' Ethiopia Sidamo Adem Chilcho coffee, to be exact. 

In brief, it is absolutely delicious.  And, naturally, highly caffeinated. One bar contains just a bit less caffeine than a shot of espresso. 

We need more of these things in California.  And also, THIS:

"And it's delicious!"

J'adore.

Candy Cap Bread Pudding Recipe

Chef Todd Humphries of Kitchen Door generously agreed to share his recipe for candy cap bread pudding, an insanely delicious dish that is on Kitchen Door's menu every day.  WARNING: May be habit-forming.

Photo by Ashley Teplin.

Candy Cap Mushroom Bread Pudding

Yield: 1- 13x9 pan

• 6 cups heavy cream
• ½ cup dried candy cap mushrooms
• ½ cup brown sugar
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 whole eggs
• 4 egg yolks
• 2 teaspoons vanilla
• 1 ¼ loaves brioche
• ¼ cup dried currants
• ¼ cup dried golden raisins

1. Measure cream into a sauce pot and add dried mushrooms.
2. Heat until just simmering. Let infuse for 1 hour.
3. In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, yolks, both sugars, and salt.
4. Add cream infusion and vanilla.
5. Strain through a very fine strainer, set aside.
6. Remove all crust from brioche. Slice into medium sized cubes.
7. Layer half of the brioche in the 13x9 pan, sprinkle over half of the currants and half of the raisins.
8. Add the rest of the brioche and top with remaining currants and raisins.
9. Pour custard over brioche. Gently press down on the top to ensure that the custard has soaked into the brioche well.
10. Cover with foil and place pan in a larger pan with water coming half way up the side of the 13x9.
11. Bake at 350 for 1 hour, rotating half way through.
12. Remove the foil and brown top of bread pudding for 10 min.
13. Cool bread pudding completely, preferably overnight, and slice into 12 portions.
14. Reheat in oven to serve.

For extra candy cap goodness, serve with Todd's recipe for Maple Anglaise Sauce... also made with mushrooms.

Maple Anglaise Sauce

Yield: 1 pint

• 1 ¼ cup heavy cream
• ½ cup whole milk
• 1 tablespoon dried candy cap mushrooms
• 6 tablespoons maple sugar
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 4 egg yolks
• ¼ teaspoon vanilla

1. Measure cream and milk into a sauce pot.
2. Add dried mushrooms.
3. Heat until just simmering, infuse 1 hour.
4. Combine yolks, sugar, and salt in a medium sized bowl.
5. Reheat cream infusion to a simmer and temper into egg mixture.
6. Return everything to the pot and stir constantly over low heat with a rubber spatula until thickened, but not curdling.
7. Strain through a very fine strainer, add vanilla, cover surface with plastic and cool completely before use.

Why are we putting mushrooms in dessert? Check out my earlier post about candy cap mushrooms.

Maple-Flavored Mushrooms, And The Man Who Cooks Them

Though Todd Humphries has been cooking with candy cap mushrooms for years at his restaurants in Napa Valley, few people outside the area are familiar with these unique little funghi.  Candy caps (lactarius rubidus) are tiny bronze-colored mushrooms that grow wild in Mendocino, the Oakland Hills, and mushroom-friendly places north. 

Their claim to fame?  Candy caps smell and taste uncannily like maple syrup.

The (Mushroom) Man.
Photo by Ashley Teplin.

I sat down with Todd at his Napa restaurant Kitchen Door to learn more about these strange little beasts and their many delectable possibilities.  For those who don't know, Todd Humphries is the ultimate mushroom chef of Napa Valley, who not only cooks them in shockingly delicious ways, but also gets up pre-dawn to forage his own in the cold, damp wilds of northern California.

During his Martini House days, Todd used to offer seasonal all-mushroom tasting menus spotlighting beautiful and arcane varieties most people will never see again.  I was lucky enough to discover candy caps at such a dinner, just a few days before Martini House closed (check out my article on WineCountry.com for pictures and full report).  Fortunately for me and other candy cap lovers, Todd now runs his candy cap mushroom bread pudding on Kitchen Door's menu every day of the week... and he graciously agreed to share his recipe with you, my loyal blog readers.  You're welcome.

No one seems to know how or why the maple aroma and flavor is present in these mushrooms, but it's unmistakeable.  Fresh candy caps have a fainter maple scent than the dried versions -- which quickly dominate any airspace they're exposed to -- but can still be distinguished from similar-looking mushrooms by the milky fluid they exude when punctured (hence the Latin name "lactarius") and the rough cat's tongue texture of the cap. 

Fresh candy caps are very fragile and highly perishable, but also delicious to cook with if you have the opportunity, Todd says.  He recalls serving a rouget dish at Martini House with a curry reduction sauce and fresh candy caps sauteed in butter, where the mushrooms' spice and sweet aromatics complemented and amplified the sauce in a truly unique way.

The Kitchen Door candy cap bread pudding. They also
sell it to go, so you can ravish it in the privacy
of your own home.

Because of the perishability factor, though, most candy cap dishes in restaurants are made using dried mushrooms, which also have the strongest maple flavor and that slight hint of spice.  It takes 10-12 pounds of fresh mushrooms to yield one pound of dried, so dried candy caps tend to be pricy propositions.  Fortunately, they are potent little buggers and a little goes a long way.

Dried candy caps can be pulverized into a powder to use in pancakes, cookies, or spaetzle, but most commonly Todd uses them whole to infuse cream or milk for desserts (think panna cotta, anglaises... and bread pudding).  He recommends either a cold soak in the liquid overnight, or a slow, gentle warming of the liquid -- but boiling liquids, as in a reduction, seem to muddy the flavor somehow.  Another tip from the pro: don't try to rehydrate dried candy caps and use them whole like you would dried porcinis.  The texture just doesn't work. 

The maple flavor infuses warm liquid at an astonishing rate, as I discovered when playing at home with some dried mushrooms.  My 10-minute candy cap syrup proved a very interesting cocktail mixer for Calvados and fresh lemon juice, and Todd tells me he has seen other candy cap syrups on the market -- as well as candy cap-infused oil out of Oregon.  I'm thinking that would be amazing on crostini toasts with cheeses or charcuterie.

Curious to get your hands on some, for your own experiments?  Try Connie Green of Wine Forest Mushrooms, who supplies Kitchen Door and many other amazing restaurants on a wholesale basis, but also now operates a retail pantry store online.  

And please let me know about your delicious concoctions by commenting below.

Napa's Cocktail Renaissance

"The Franklin"

Until recently, it was hard to find a delicious alcoholic beverage in downtown Napa that wasn't wine. The number of full liquor licenses was very strictly controlled, and many were owned by establishments with what can be most charitably described as subsistence-level drinks.  Downtown Napa had about three options for a truly well-crafted cocktail, none of which had spacious bar areas.

No more.  The downtown revival of the last few years has ushered in a cocktail renaissance for our little wine-soaked town, thanks to the fine people at Morimoto, Oenotri, Eiko's, and Norman Rose Tavern.

Norman Rose originally opened with a beer and wine license, but has recently acquired the right to serve it all forth.  And so they do, at lunch as well as dinner.  Their menu includes hyper-local superstars like "The Franklin" (named after their cross street), a thirst-quenching marvel of Zaya rum, grapefruit bitters, Aperol, grapefruit juice and lime.  Sophisticated but approachable, it is wine country style in a highball glass. 

Eiko's and Morimoto offer more exotic refreshment, with both their cocktail menus and the usual denizens of their lounge.  Morimoto's nighttime bar scene delivers some of the best people-watching in town, but also a solid menu of asian-inflected cocktails that change seasonally.  Eiko's plays the liquid nitrogen game with its frozen caipirinha (served as a super cold alcoholic sorbet) and shakes up a slew of options with names like Dragon Cosmo, Sumo-jito, and the like, but my go-to in their sexy lounge space is a simple gimlet made with Skyy Ginger vodka and fresh lime juice.  Classic, refreshing, and spectacularly good with sushi, I am hard pressed not to order it every time I'm there.

The summertime heat is winning the battle with our office air conditioner... must be time for a drink.

Fava-less Fava Dip 4-Evah

I love the look and flavor of fava beans, but the amount of work required to extract them from their pods inspires me to leave them off my shopping list, every time.  Fortunately I discovered a few years ago that pre-shelled frozen edamame beans make a great substitute, and bring much the same happy spring feeling to dishes and dips -- especially in this Mediterranean-inspired dip recipe, which has become a household staple.  If you're lazy AND cheap, rest assured that frozen edamame is also very inexpensive -- just slightly over $2 per 12-ounce bag at Trader Joe's and Whole Foods.

Edamame dip photo by Aida Mollenkamp on flickr.  I don't top my edamame dip
with sesame seeds, but I do enjoy it with whole wheat & flax pita chips like these.

I love to eat this lemony, garlicky dip while it's still warm, but the flavors actually improve if you can save some to eat the next day -- a big if, if you have friends like mine.  It's great with pretty much any kind of cheese, but my favorite combo is to top it with thin shavings of sheep cheese or truffle cheese (TJ's truffle cheese is a great option, if you're there).  You could also drizzle extra virgin olive oil over the top, for another classic Mediterranean presentation.  Use it on sandwiches, crostini, crackers, or just your fingers. 

Edamame "Fava" Dip

1 12-oz bag frozen shelled edamame (already removed from the pod)
2 medium lemons
1 medium garlic clove
2-3 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, or more to taste (I prefer a grassier style for this recipe)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
fresh ground pepper

1. Set a pot of water large enough to hold the entire bag of edamame on the stove, and bring to a rapid boil.
2.  While the water heats, zest the lemons (if desired), and extract their juice.
3.  Using the side of your chef's knife, mash the garlic clove with a pinch of coarse salt and grind it into a paste.
4.  Once the water is boiling, throw in the edamame.  Cover the pot, bring the water back to the boil, and cook for a few minutes until soft (usually about 4 minutes total from time you put in the edamame).  Drain edamame in a colander, then place them in a food processor.
5.  Add the lemon juice, lemon zest (if using), garlic paste, some freshly ground pepper and the salt, and process to a coarse paste, scraping down the sides with a spatula as necessary.
6.  Add the olive oil while the machine is running, stopping periodically to scrape down the sides and taste for texture and seasoning.  Add more olive oil if you want a creamier texture, and adjust salt and pepper levels to your taste.
7.  Feast.

Home Is Where The Pork Is

My brother's pulled pork changes lives.

People who claim not to like pork will put away half a pound before coming up for air.  Lifelong pork aficionados have to recalibrate their rankings to accommodate this new upstart.  Even severe sensory integration afflictions are powerless before the slow-smoked succulence that my brother creates.  And they all back for more.



Behold.

This is why my brother has taken to smoking two seven-pound pork shoulders at a time, even if the expected crowd is relatively small and the pork is preceded by a sausage sampler course and several marinated tri-tips.  Though no one thought they had room after the onslaught of the first two meat rounds (and their accompanying sides), the revelers assembled at our family's house last weekend still pounced on the pork bowl like starving vultures the instant it appeared.


The ravening beasts descend.

My only claim to fame associated with this miraculous porcine power (other than my relation to its creator) is that my Vietnamese cabbage slaw recipe has become the condiment of choice.  Whether in a pulled pork taco, slider, or full blown sandwich, this slaw provides just the right amount of crunch, tang, freshness, and redeeming nutritional value to help you put away that extra helping of pig.  It is, in a word, indispensable.

Like the pork, this slaw must be made in vast quantities to appease the hungering hordes -- but unlike the pork, I'm authorized to share the recipe.  And it doubles easily.

Vietnamese Cabbage Salad

1. Combine the dressing ingredients in a mixing bowl big enough to whisk, and whisk together:

• 1 medium size garlic clove, smashed and minced as small as possible
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 2-3 tablespoons of sugar, depending on your taste
• 3 tablespoons fish sauce, or according to your taste
• 3 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
• a generous showering of freshly ground black pepper
• (optional) a pinch or two of minced chili pepper, or a dash of hot red pepper flakes, or sriracha, or... whatever spicy goodness you've got.

The dressing ideally should sit for a bit (30 minutes or more) before you dress the salad to let the flavors blend, but it's not essential.  If you're just eating this salad on its own, without something outrageously rich and fabulous to flesh it out, add a couple of tablespoons of neutral oil to the dressing to compensate.

2. Mix the salad ingredients in your serving bowl:

• 4 cups (approx 1 10-oz bag)"angel hair" shredded green cabbage 
• 1 cup (about half a bag) julienned carrots
• 1/4 cup julienned red bell pepper
• 1/4 cup julienned fennel
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
• 12-20 fresh mint leaves, torn or chopped

3. Toss the salad thoroughly with the dressing, et voilà.

 

More Italian Magic

Last week I had dinner at Alex Italian Restaurant in Rutherford's Rancho Caymus Inn (the original La Toque space).  The name pretty much says it all -- owned by husband and wife Italians Alessandro and Alessia, and a quintessential Italian establishment in a land full of Cal-Ital.  Chic, sleek decor and luxurious leather seating, lots of Italian wines, and of course a menu full of the regional specialties of Liguria and Emilia-Romagna set this place apart in Napa Valley.

The dish of the night for us (and this was a tough race with many worthy contenders) was the octopus salad with shaved celery, olives, red onions, fingerling potatoes, and Ligurian salsa verde.  Ecco la:

Never in my life have I eaten octopus more tender -- and I've eaten a lot of great octopods in my life.  Check that awesome sear on the tentacles!  Between the crusty char on the outside and the supple, almost creamy meat inside, this thing was divine even before it encountered the fresh crunch of celery and the brightness of the herb pesto.  I see this becoming an automatic order every time I visit. 

Alex's executive chef Nick Ritchie helped Michael Chiarello open Bottega, but left Yountville to open Alex with the two Alexes last year.  You can watch him preparing his octopus salad in this video from the Napa Valley Register.

What to drink with this thing of beauty? We had a remarkable Grechetto from Sergio Mottura's porcupine-ridden Poggio Della Costa vineyard in Civitella d'Agliano, and la vita was very dolce indeed.

Sexy candelabra! And porcupine label.