Burger, Justice

eat. On our last day in NYC we were hanging out with our host Joe, our nephew Daniel, his girlfriend Brittany, and their friend Lindsay, looking for a place to have lunch before checking out the Transit Museum in Brooklyn. When we passed by a Five Guys burger joint, Joe said “I’ve heard they have great fries.” That was enough for me and Robin, so in we went.

Five Guys is a burger chain that originated in Washington, D.C. They have a jillion different toppings you can have on your hamburger (the usual condiments, as well as grilled onions and mushrooms, jalapeños, A-1 Sauce, BBQ sauce, etc.), and two sizes of burgers: big and small. (The big ones, it turns out, are the same size as the small, but with two patties.)

We carried our order to the table, and passed out the goods.

One of the bags was full of fries, and they were indeed great. (But we couldn’t finish them all, so we gave them to a homeless person, who immediately started feeding them to the pigeons).


The burgers were good, but too dry for my taste. I was afraid of this, as while ordering I had noticed a sign saying: “We cook all our burgers juicy and well done.” This is a contradiction in my book, because it is impossible for a well done burger to be juicy. I prefer mine medium-rare.


Fast-forward to yesterday. I’m back in D.C., sitting on the metro reading the Washington Post. On page A4 is a story about Obama entitled “Another Burger Run.” Turns out that last Friday he too (along with his usual entourage of aides, security folk, and the media pool, as well as Brian Williams and an NBC camera crew “that just happened to be trailing him for a ‘day in the life’ documentary”) stopped by a Five Guys restaurant in D.C. for some burgers.

The president reportedly shelled out over $80 in cash to buy lunch for everyone, and ordered a cheeseburger with jalapeños, lettuce, mustard and tomatoes for himself.

You may remember that several weeks ago Obama and Biden had burgers at Ray’s Hell Burger in Arlington, VA, and that the prez ordered his medium rare, which prompted an outcry over the danger of his ingesting E. coli. No such problem at Five Guys.

Speaking of burgers, we went to the Supreme Court on Friday afternoon to visit Justice Ginsburg in her chambers.

What does this have to do with burgers? you may well be asking. Well, in addition to the cheap joke about Chief Justice Burger that forms the title of this post, there is another connection. Read on.

We visited the National Archives right before our meeting with RBG, as I thought it would be appropriate to pay homage to the U.S. Constitution—which, along with the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights, is on display there—before meeting with the justice.

Afterwards, as we were walking down Pennsylvania Ave. from the Archives to the Supreme Court, the sky opened up and it started to pour. We didn’t have time to stop and wait out the shower (which only lasted about 10 minutes), so, although we each had an umbrella, by the time we got to the Court our pant legs were soaking wet.

yours truly in a Mr. Smith moment in front of the Supreme Court

(notice the wet pant legs)

We had been instructed to go to the marshals’ office upon arrival at the Court, to announce our presence. When we walked in, the first thing we saw was two women sitting behind desks wearing these T shirts:


“Huh?” we asked them. “What the heck is that?” It just so happens that that very day at lunch time there had been an end-of-term barbeque for the Supreme Court staff, attorneys, and justices, and these two had been on the cooking team. Justice Scalia was flipping burgers for the event, they told us.

So, on the very same day that Obama is lunching on a burger at Five Guys, Scalia is cookin’ up a pile of burgers for the Supreme Court employees. I guess the hamburger really is the Great American Meal.

I know you’re dying to hear: Yes, we did visit with Justice Ginsburg (who did not appear to notice our wet, disheveled state), but only briefly, as she is currently swamped with end-of-term opinions and dissents that need drafting. sing. While waiting to meet with the justice, we chatted with one of her law clerks, a charming young man who is also an accomplished tenor and pianist (which no doubt helped him score this prestigious gig clerking for the opera-loving RBG).

view of internal courtyard,
taken from window outside Justice Ginsburg’s chambers

RBG with Marianne, Robin’s sister-in-law’s aunt,

with whom we stayed during the first leg of our D.C. trip

Unwigged and Unplugged

sing. This Is Spinal Tap, the Rob Reiner film starring Christopher Guest, Michael McKean and Harry Shearer, has got to be one of the funniest, spot-on spoofs of the rock and roll business ever made. (For those of you who are wondering who in the hell are Spinal Tap, go to this link, and this one.)

After starring in the Spinal Tap rockumentary, Christopher Guest went on to direct several other improv-based mocumentaries, the best-know of which is probably Best In Show, a send-off of the Westminster Dog Show. But my favorites are A Mighty Wind and Waiting For Guffman. The latter follows a small Midwestern town’s staging of a sesquicentennial musical revue, under the direction of the naive, enthusiastic—and very gay (though he claims to be married)—Corky St. Clair (played Christopher Guest). (Clip here.)

A Mighty Wind follows three folk music groups who are about to perform for the first time in years at a reunion concert being organized to pay tribute to their long-time producer, who has just died. One of the groups—the Folksmen—is made up of the same three actors/musicians who comprise the heavy metal band Spinal Tap. (It may be an urban legend, but supposedly the Folksmen once opened for a Spinal Tap concert, only to be booed by members of the audience who didn’t realize it was the same three people as their beloved metal band.)

I love the songs from both these movies, and to a lesser degree the ones from This Is Spinal Tap, so imagine my excitement when I learned that Spinal Tap and the Folksmen would be playing an “unplugged” concert in New York City when Robin and I were there. Success! We scored tickets to the show.

The concert was last Tuesday night, and we took our friend Joe (who used to be on Robin’s work crew at UCSC), who was kindly putting us up for our NYC stay. The show—entitled “Unwigged and Unplugged”—was at the historic Beacon Theatre.


My eyes popped out when we stepped into the hall—art deco gone wild:

Joe and Robin caught in an affectionate moment

The crowd went wild when Guest, McKean and Shearer came on stage.

Shearer, McKean and Guest

They played a few Spinal Tap and Folksmen songs, and then announced that a guest would be joining them for the next tune. Out walks Elvis Costello. Wow! (Yes, I’m a big E.C. fan.) He sang lead on a Spinal Tap song (I don’t remember which one, but it wasn’t “Big Bottom”—which they later did as in a sort of Peggy Lee-ish style—or “Sex Farm.”)

Other guests came out to sing and play too, including Terre Roche (of The Roches fame), who sang with the boys on “A Penny For Your Thoughts” from Waiting For Guffman, and Annette O’Toole, Michael McKean’s wife and song-writing partner. She sang with McKean on “A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow” (which they penned), as well as “The Good Book Song,” both from A Mighty Wind.

One of the highlights of the night was when they played the Spinal Tap song “Stonehenge” (see video clip above). Christopher Guest (in his best Nigel Tufnel voice) asked the audience to make blowing wind sounds, to help create the right atmosphere. Midway through the song, instead of having a real fake Stonehenge come down from above, they projected behind the band a video clip of what looked like a necklace with a Stonehenge pendant hanging from it. And when it came time for the little elves to come out and dance, the video clip showed a pair of black-clad arms (one review said these were the arms of actress Jamie Lee Curtis, who’s married to Christopher Guest), holding two troll dolls with pink hair, and making them “dance” along to the music.

trippy photo of the band (with keyboardist on left)

About two-thirds of the way into the concert, they turned on the house lights, and asked for questions from the audience (all but those concerning the number eleven were welcome, we were told). To me, the most interesting information gleaned from this was that Christopher Guest is in the process of trying to get a production of Waiting For Guffman on Broadway.

At one point during the Q&A, I leaned forward to look at the person who was asking a question, and realized that Elvis Costello was sitting in the audience, just two rows in front of us. So he’s a fan too. Cool.

For one of their encores, the trio they played “Old Joe’s Place,” from A Mighty Wind. I took an illegal (and crappy quality) video of it:



(Go here for a better bootleg video someone else took of the “unwigged” show last March.)

As I was leaving the theater after the concert, I overhead some 20-something women, all decked out in Spinal Tap T-shirts, discussing the show. “I didn’t know they were going to do all that other music,” one said to another in a whiney voice. Guess some folks just really don’t get it. (Here’s a link to the NY Times review of an “unwigged” concert from a week earlier.)

eat. After the show, we went to the Stage Door Deli for a late supper. (We were trying to find the Carnegie Deli, but when we walked by this one, we went for it instead.) They make humongous sandwiches in NYC delis:

hot pastrami on rye

Robin ordered the cheesecake—also huge—but we all thought it was too cakey and dry. Next time we won’t be so impatient, and will find the Carnegie Deli, where it’s much better.

A New Jersey Style Welcome

eat. I have two Memorial Day weekend parties in New Jersey—both thrown in our honor—to report on. They really know how to do them up in Jersey, where summer-time outdoor eating is serious business.

Our friend Susan picked us up at the Newark train station, and her shindig started a half hour after we arrived at her house in Milburn. Susan’s folks drove in from Princeton for the occasion, bringing with them two cardboard boxes overflowing with bit fat hoagies (aka submarine sandwiches, heros, grinders, etc.). There were two kinds: Italian (ham, salami and Provolone cheese) and roast beef.


I of course tried both, and deemed them superb—especially the soft, chewy bread. Susan made her famous creamy potato salad to go with the hoagies. (The recipe is secret, but I did manage to squeeze out of her that one of the ingredients is sour cream. There’s something red in there too—paprika perhaps?)


For dessert we were treated to cupcakes from (I think) Brownie Points, in Summit, N.J. Having already eaten two hoagies, I limited myself to one—lemon cake with lemon frosting—and discovered that the cake part was rich and eggy, almost like a pound cake. The topping was thick and creamy—made with cream cheese?


The very next day we were invited to a barbeque at Tara and David’s house in Carney, N.J. Tara is the sister of our friend Tammy, who used to work for Robin at UCSC.

Upon arrival, we were offered drinks, and then a tour of the classic ’60s-style house.


A little while later, David fired up the barbie.


Now, when folks in California generally say they’re going to have a barbeque, one expects there to be either hamburgers and hot dogs OR something like ribs and chicken, or maybe a tri tip.

Once the coals died down, on went the burgers and dogs. Tammy placed them in their buns, and set them on the table, along with an amazing topping made by Tara and Tammy’s mom Pat, simply called “red onions” (recipe follows). (I gather this is a common condiment in New Jersey, as they all thought it funny that I had never heard of them.)


In the belief that this was all there was going to be—silly me—I promptly devoured two hot dogs slathered with the sweet, tender onions. The dogs were REALLY good—juicy and full of pork flavor—like real sausages—rather than the tasteless kind you often get back home.


Sated and satisfied, I went back to my bottle of Stella Artois, only to observe Dave set down a big plate of barbequed chicken on the table. I hadn’t even seen him cook it. At that point I investigated further, and discovered Tammy preparing BBQ ribs. ¡Ay de mi!


They had been simmered for an hour ’til tender, she told me. After a few minutes on the barbeque slathered with sauce, their outsides would now become caramelized and crispy, while the insides stayed fall-off-the-bone tender.

I LOVE pork ribs, so—stomach bulging as it was—resistance was futile, and I succumbed. Twice.

Thank you to all our New Jersey pals—you really know how to welcome your West Coast friends!


Pat’s Red Onions

Slice white onions (as many as you want) up coarsely. Sweat them slowly in a large skillet over a low heat, adding a bit of water as needed to keep them from browning, until they are soft and tender (but not browned). Add a little ketchup and hot sauce to taste, and continue to cook until reduced to the desired thickness.

Serve with hot dogs and hamburgers.

Doin’ Durham

I write this on the train from D.C. to NYC, but I’m going to tell you about our whirlwind trip down to Durham, North Carolina—home to Duke University, the Durham Bulls minor league baseball team, and our friends Sandy and Rob and their kids Maddy and Jon William.

We rented a car and—at least part of the way, until Robin started getting car-sick—took the scenic route down. The interstates in those parts are particularly boring (and claustrophobic) to us Californians: trees, trees, and more trees lining the highway, with meadows and vistas few and far-between. (I never realized just how much I crave the wide open spaces until my first trip to the East Coast.)

Our back-roads journey took us past picturesque agricultural land with farm houses, fields of corn and grain, silos for the aforementioned corn and grain, white picket fences, and grazing horses. (When we stopped at the tourist information center in Virginia and asked about the area we were planning on driving through, the woman told us: “Oh, that’s not very interesting—it’s just a rural area.”)

ride. For part of our drive we were on what was listed as the “bicycle route” on the map, but it was a narrow, windy road with no bike lane whatsoever, and numerous logging trucks. Not one I would want to ride on (and we didn’t see any cyclists along the way, so perhaps the locals agree).

cycling crab at info center advertising Virginia bike race

We stopped at Farmville along the way, a quaint town full of furniture stores and antique shops, where Robin bought a coke to alleviate her motion-sickness, and we wandered through an Amish furniture store. (Didn’t know they had ’em in Virginia.)

sing. A brief digression from my story: We just pulled into the Philadelphia train station, and on my iPod is playing one of my favorite rock songs, “That Thing You Do” (from the movie of the same title). As the Wonders—the fictitious group that wrote and performed the song—were from Philly, I find this to be a fun coincidence.

eat. Okay, back to our trip. For dinner that night, we went to a restaurant in Durham called Watts Grocery. They use only sustainable, free-range, organic, etc. ingredients, and the meal was terrific.

Being in the South an’ all, I opted for a Baker’s bourbon to start the meal.


My appetizer was a sort of hash, made with asparagus, potatoes, and shitake mushrooms in a creamy, butter-rich sauce (a beurre blanc), and topped with a poached egg. I give it an A+.


For the main course, I opted for a Southern-inflected plate: bourbon-braised pork, onion custard, and sautéed broccoli rabe. The meat reminded me of kalua pork—the Hawai‘ian pit-roasted dish, which has a sweet, smoky flavor. It was tender and succulent, and the portion so large that Rob and Sandy had to help me finish it.


Here’s one of the desserts we shared. I don’t remember what exactly it was, but it too was yummie, and beautifully presented:


After dinner, our hosts took us on a driving tour of Duke University. My father emailed me this about the Duke campus:

Old Man Duke (founder of the tobacco fortune) went to Princeton, admired the campus, and offered the university an enormous bundle of money. Just one condition: they would agree to name the university Duke rather than Princeton. They said No (presumably in a way that they hoped wouldn't prevent him from giving them the money). He did walk away, and founded his own university right near the growing and manufacture of tobacco and its products. He got an architect to copy the design of Princeton buildings, and they seem to have done a good job. End of story.

Here are a couple of highlights of the campus at night:




Call us crazy, but we got up the next morning and headed back to D.C. (4 ½ hours via the claustrophobic interstate). But not without a nutritious breakfast of sausage biscuits and gravy to start the day:

Here’s a shot inside the gas station we stopped at in southern Virginia on our way back:


Next stops: New Jersey and New York City!

Quick Update from D.C.

Yes, we have been sight-seeing, in between seeing friends:

eat. Saw some delicious food whilst at the National Air and Space Museum:



sing. We’re staying with Robin’s sister-in-law’s wonderful aunt and uncle Marianne and Harold, who live in the Watergate complex. We have this view of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts from our bedroom:



ride. Of course we had to visit the White House to pay homage to President—still get the chills saying that—Obama. I was pleased to see that it was a bicycle cop who was guarding the premises:


We were able to get a peek through the fence at the White House Kitchen Garden (the photo I took is too lousy to post here), and imagine my excitement when the First Dog! (Bo) came prancing out—with the White House gardener, I think—to take a pee near (in?) the garden while we were watching:


Here’s a one-second movie I accidentally took of Bo, trying to take a photograph:

The Justice and The Giro

eat. Some of you know that I recently wrote a memoir—called Cooking for Ruth—about a dinner I had the good fortune to prepare for Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. In the process, I discovered just how much I love writing about food, and I resolved to continue doing so. This blog is the result. (Yeah—I added a couple other subjects in addition to food.)

Ruth and me after The Dinner

My father—who’s known the justice since the 1960s when they ran in the same comparative law circle—recently delivered a paper at a symposium honoring her fifteen years on the Supreme Court. During the event, Justice Ginsburg participated in a Q&A session that later aired on CSPAN, and which is now on-line. I watched it yesterday, and want to recommend it to you all. She speaks candidly at length about her time in the 1970s as an advocate for women’s rights, and you get a good look at her personality and sense of humor. (And yes, she does mention cooking, and (sing) talks a bit about opera too!) Click here to see the video (1 hr. 17 min.). (You’ll notice that she’s wearing the same coat in the video as she wore to my dinner!)


ride. Pro cycling fans know that the first week of the three-week Giro d’Italia has now come to a close (today is a rest day). I’ve been following the race daily on VeloNews. Currently the maglia rosa (the pink leader’s jersey) is being worn by Danilo Di Luca (team LPR), and my boy Levi Leipheimer (Astana) is in a comfortable fourth place, 51 seconds back.

But the most interesting current Giro news is what happened during yesterday’s stage—a circuit race around Milan. As explained in a VeloNews article:

The 163km Milano Show 100 course — 10 laps of a 25-corner circuit with a long, 2km straightaway on Corso Venezia — was too dangerous, the peloton decided.

After riders and organizers agreed that the stage would not affect GC [general classification, i.e., the overall times], the bunch cycled leisurely around the circuit at a pace of 33 km/h (20.5 mph). Then, after a bit of discussion with his colleagues, race leader Danilo Di Luca (LPR) brought the peloton to a halt at the start-finish line with six laps to go, asked for a microphone, and explained the situation to the spectators, apologizing for the lack of action.

Although there is a history of riders stopping races to protest—in the 2007 Tour de France, for instance, a group or riders protested the doping scandals by sitting down and not starting the 16th stage at the scheduled time—yesterday’s events were uncommon. And odd. It was strange having the peloton cruise along for most of the race at a leisurely 20mph. I mean, even I could probably keep up with that pace.

Things picked up for the last few laps, however, and there was a sprint finish. British wonder-boy Mark Cavendish (Columbia-High Road) took the stage win.

Re animals I see on my bike rides: I forgot a few in my list several posts back, and have now added quail, ducks, snakes and lizards.


Up-Coming Blogs: Robin and I leave for a two-week trip to D.C. and NYC tomorrow, to visit friends. (And yes, we will be making a quick—she’s in crunch mode, finishing up the drafting of opinions—visit to see Justice Ginsburg in her chambers.)

New York City—jes’ like I pictured it...

I don’t know how much time I’ll have to write posts, or how often I’ll be able to get access to the internet during our trip, so be forewarned that my blogs will likely be much reduced during this period. We apologize for any inconvenience caused you by this situation...

Gin and Chocolate

eat. The last time I cooked with juniper berries was some fifteen years ago, when an attorney at my law firm—who competes with bird dogs and used to hunt on occasion—gave me a brace of pheasants (thankfully already plucked and gutted). Tom was pleased that I wanted them, since he was sick of eating the stuff, but had a hard time finding folks who would take them off his hands. I was thrilled at the offer, as cooking game was completely new to me. “Watch out for the buck-shot in the birds,” he warned.

I turned to my old stand-by, Mrs. Rombauer’s Joy of Cooking, for guidance. She recommended barding pheasant with bacon, as it tends to be dry, and braising it with Marsala, a tangerine, and juniper berries. (Being a contrary sort, I substituted Scotch whiskey—they eat a lot of pheasant in Scotland, no?—and oranges, and it was delicious.)

wild game bird with oranges

The recipe (see end of post) for grilled beef with gin-spiked cream sauce that I was using for last Wednesday’s dinner called for juniper berries, so I rummaged through my spice drawer to see if I had any left. I succeeding in finding the bottle, and it still had some berries in it. But when I crushed one to see if they were still any good, it was completely devoid of smell. He's dead, Jim.

Into the compost went the dead berries, and off I went in search of fresh ones. New Leaf was my first attempt, as they have a well-stocked bulk herb section. No luck. Nor did any of the other markets I tried have them. Damn! How could I make the gin-spiked cream sauce without the most important ingredient? (Juniper berries are what gives gin its flavor.)

Then I realized—Leslie, you have two juniper trees. And now that I thought about it, I remembered that I had swept up berries from those trees many times over the years. I rushed home, grabbed a bowl, and went out to the backyard to look. It was clearly not the right season, as the pickin’s were slim. But there were a few juniper berries scattered about—some quite dry, others still soft—and I was able to gather the four teaspoons I needed, just barely. I crushed one with a knife when I got inside. Ahhh... Lots of that piney, juniper perfume. Next season, I’m gonna gather me a peck of them berries, for future use.

juniper berries on rusted Radio Flyer wagon

(the shadows are from the juniper trees)

The first step for the beef dish was to grind the spices together: the juniper berries, along with some allspice, black peppercorns, and salt. We only have one grinder—the one we use for coffee beans—so I wiped it clean and used it, and then carefully cleaned it afterwards, so our next day’s coffee wouldn’t taste like gin and black pepper (although I suppose that might actually be quite tasty).

This concoction is the dry-rub for the beef. The recipe calls for flank steak, but I opted for tri-tip instead, a cut I find to be full of flavor, and plenty tender if cooked rare and sliced against the grain. I rubbed the ground spices all over the beef, and let it sit. It was mid-day, so the spices would have plenty of time to permeate the meat and form a nice crust.

Next I made the sauce, which is deliciously decadent, made as it is with reduced stock, whipping cream, gin and juniper berries.

dry-rubbed steak with saucepan simmering

As I cooked the sauce, I started roasting the baby red and Yukon Gold potatoes—which I’d rubbed with olive oil, garlic powder, and S&P—in the oven. I’d finish them on the barbeque along with the beef, to give them a smoky flavor.

Next step for the main course was the veg. I had decided on snap peas, as I’d been thrilled to finally see them for sale at the farmers market last week. All I had to do for prep was to string them (though there weren’t many strings). I would just sauté them quickly in butter, right before service.

The last thing was to get the barbeque ready: I cleaned the grill and removed the old ash, put newspaper in the chimney, and filled it with briquettes. When Sandy and Tom arrived, I’d fire it up.

The first two courses (cheese/olives and shrimp with citrus, harissa and fennel) are described in my previous post.

I put the tri-tip and the roasted potatoes (on skewers) on the hot barbie right before going inside for our shrimp course. Midway through the shrimp, I turned the meat and the taters. The meat was rare to the touch by the time we had finished, and I brought it inside to rest (covered with foil to keep it warm) while I reheated the sauce and sautéed the snap peas.

Tom opened the second bottle he and Sandy had brought—a 1997 Davis Bynum Russian River Valley Cabernet Sauvignon (Laureles Estate Vineyard). Another amazing wine. Thank you S and T!

I cut the tri-tip into thin slices, and plated up the main course:


Yep, this one’s a keeper too. The creamy, gin-infused sauce went perfectly with the charred-on-the-outside, rare-on-the-inside steak.

For dessert I made one of my favorite recipes: mayonnaise au chocolat (so called because it uses whole raw eggs, like the other mayonnaise).


It’s dense and incredibly rich, and a cinch to make. (I don’t remember where I got the recipe; I’ve had it for ages.)

We had it with coffee and a Spanish cream sherry called Vinicola Hidalgo, from Sanlucar de Barrameda. Check out all those glasses (and the white wine ones aren’t even there)—always the hardest part of clean-up after a party.


Grilled Beef with Gin-Spiked Cream Sauce (serves 4-6)
(adapted from a Sunset magazine recipe, Sept. 2007)

4 t dried juniper berries (divided 2/2)
1½ t whole allspice
1½ t black peppercorns
1 t kosher salt
1 tri-tip or flank steak, excess fat trimmed off (about 2 lbs.)
1 T olive oil
1½ cup beef or chicken stock (unsalted)
1 cup whipping cream
4 T gin

Grind 2 t of the juniper berries, the allspice, and the peppercorns in spice grinder. Add salt to spices and whirl to mix.

Rub oil on beef, and then pat and rub the spice mixture all over it. This should be done at least 2 hours ahead of time, to let the spice flavor permeate the meat.

In a 2-qt. pot, bring stock and remaining 2 t of juniper berries to a boil, and boil over high heat until reduced by ¾. Add cream and gin, and simmer until reduced by half. (Watch it, because cream tends to want to boil over.)

Grill the beef—preferably on a barbeque—until desired doneness (note that if it’s more than medium-rare, it will be tough). Let it rest for 10 minutes.

Reheat cream sauce, and add more gin if you want more zip. Cut meat into thin slices across the grain, pour any juices from the meat into the sauce, and stir. Arrange meat slices on plates and top with the cream sauce.


Mayonnaise au Chocolat
(serves 8—the servings are small, because it’s so rich)

½ lb. (2 sticks) room temperature unsalted butter
¾ cup sugar
1½ cup (8 oz.) semi-sweet chocolate
6 whole raw eggs
pinch salt

Beat the butter and sugar together on high speed, ’til light and fluffy.

Shave a little chocolate off for use as a garnish, if desired. Melt the rest of the chocolate. (This can be done in an double-boiler, but it’s easier in the microwave—just watch it so it doesn’t go past melting to cooking.) Add melted chocolate to butter mixture, while continuing to beat.

Still beating, add the six eggs and beat until smooth.

Pour into decorative glasses (Martini glasses are the perfect size, but wine glasses work fine). Do this now, as it hardens after chilling. Serve topped with whipped cream, and an optional shaved chocolate garnish.

Additional goodie: This clip about the White House organic garden from The Daily Show (courtesy of the Obama Foodorama blog) is hilarious.

Another Dinner Party?

eat. I had told Sandy and Tom when I invited them over that I was just going to do something simple, as I was still recovering from the duck extravaganza of two weeks ago. But when I finally sat down and started flipping through my recipe binder for ideas, I got all excited again about cooking. There you have it.

Since they have a well-stocked wine cellar, Sandy told me to provide her with the menu, and she’d bring the wines to match. This was good news, as their wines are all superb.

I emailed Sandy the following menu:

A sampling of cheeses and olives
Shrimp with citrus, harrisa, and fennel
Grilled beef with gin-spiked cream sauce
Roasted and then grilled baby potatoes
Sautéed snap peas
Mayonnaise au chocolat

It was a hot and sunny day, so we sat outside and sipped our first bottle of wine—a Storrs Christie Vineyard Chardonnay (Santa Cruz Mountains, 2006), that Robin and I had pulled out of our cellar (i.e., a box in the closet). Sandy forewent the wine, and had a gin gimlet instead, inspired by the gin-sauce to come.

The cheeses we had are (clockwise from top) boccocino di pura capra (an Italian goat cheese, a bit like camembert), brie, a pesto torta, and slices of morbier. The flowers are borage, from my garden (it’s delicious—tastes like cucumber, truly!).


The bottle of Storrs finished, we came inside for the first course, the shrimp salad. I’m going to describe the process of making it, and then give the recipe at the end.

First I washed, shelled, and de-veined the shrimp.

Most shrimp you buy have already had their alimentary canal (the “vein” on the top) removed. If not, you need to do this unless the shrimp are the tiny kinds, because since they basically eat mud, the shrimp will have grit in them unless it’s taken out. On the bottom of the shrimp is its nerve bundle (also referred to as a “vein”). For little shrimp I don’t bother taking this out, but for bigger ones I do. It won’t hurt you to eat it, but they look nicer without it. It’s easy to remove (though a bit time-consuming). Here’s how:

First, slice down the belly of the shrimp with a paring knife.

Then lift the “vein” out with your knife,

and pull it out.


This task done, I rinsed the shrimp again, dried them off, and put them in a covered bowl in the fridge to await cooking.

Next I peeled and thinly sliced two blood oranges and one Valencia orange, all from our garden. Get as much of the white pith off as you can, as it’s bitter.


I then chopped the green stems off the fennel bulb, cut it in half and removed the core, and sliced it as thinly as I could.

I whisked together some fresh-squeezed lemon juice (also from my garden), olive oil, harissa, and sugar. Harrisa is a spicy North African paste, made of hot chilis, ground spices, and olive oil. It’s especially delicious on grilled merguez sausages, eaten like a hot dog in a baguette.

I placed the orange and fennel slices in a bowl, poured the sauce over them, cracked on some black pepper, and sprinkled on some sea salt. This too went into the fridge to chill before dinner.

My last prep work was to juice a couple of grapefruits (yes, they are from our garden too—it’s a virtual citrus grove out there, thanks to the previous owners from Lucca, Italy).

When we came inside from our aperitifs and cheeses, I sat the others down at the table, while I finished up the shrimp first course. Tom opened the first of the wines they had brought, and my eyes bugged out when I saw what it was—a 2000 Testarossa Cuvée Niclaire, Pinot Noir (Santa Lucia Highlands).

I adore French-style Pinots—the kind that have that earthy, almost cheesy flavor, as opposed to the more fruit-heavy, Oregon-style ones. This wine, though from Monterey County—spittin’ distance from Santa Cruz—was of the French persuasion, and was simply heaven on the tongue.

Okay, time to get the shrimp ready. I pulled out the bowl of fennel and orange slices, and arranged them onto four plates. Next I heated my cast iron skillet, and poured in a little olive. When the pan was hot, I tossed in the shrimp, and sprinkled them with cracked pepper and sea salt. You don’t want to cook shrimp too long or they get tough. I seared them at a high heat, stirring often so they wouldn’t burn, and when they had browned on all sides I removed them to the bowl than had previously held the oranges and fennel.

Into the still-hot pan went the grapefruit juice, which I let reduce by half. Then I dropped in a chunk of butter, let it melt, and added the shrimp back to the pan. I stirred it all up, and then divided the shrimp between the four plates, pouring the remaining liquid over it all. A garnish of chopped chives (also from my garden), and they were ready!


The dish was a big hit with Sandy and Tom, and I too thought it was one of my better attempts. I highly recommend it.

The recipe is adapted from one of Andrew Carmellini’s (the chef at A Voce in NYC), that I found in Food and Wine Magazine back in 2008.


Shrimp with Citrus, Harissa, and Fennel
(serves 4)

1 T fresh lemon juice
½ t harrissa (or hot sauce)
1 t sugar
3 T extra-virgin olive oil
1 large fennel bulb, halved, cored, and sliced paper-thin
3 oranges (use at least one blood orange, if possible), peeled and sliced thinly
S&P
1 lb. raw shelled and de-veined large shrimp
½ cup fresh grapefruit juice
2 T unsalted butter
chives for garnish

Whisk lemon juice, harissa, sugar, and 2 T of the olive oil in a bowl. Add the fennel and orange slices to the bowl, season with S&P, toss, and put in refrigerator.

About five minutes before time for service, arrange the orange and fennel slices on the plates.

Then heat a large, heavy skillet, and add the remaining 1 T of oil, until just starting to smoke. Add the shrimp to the pan, and cook quickly, stirring to keep from burning, until browned—about 2 minutes.

Remove the shrimp from the skillet, and pour the grapefruit juice into the pan. Cook until reduced by half. Drop in the butter and return the shrimp to the pan. When the butter has melted, stir it all up, and divide the shrimp between the plates. Pour any liquid in the pan over the shrimp. Garnish with the chives.

I think that’s enough for one day; I’ll finish up my description of the dinner (with recipes!) in my next blog.