Thursday, January 31, 2008
Slight Return
Where does one begin after such a lengthy period of sustained silence? My last post was written on June 3rd 2007, well over six months ago and that is a long time. I know that in the grand scheme of things it isn’t a long time – the lower Palaeolithic lasted approximately two million years, the Mesozoic Era spanned a whopping 186 million years. Even the gestation period of the hippopotamus is eight months so there may well be baby hippos conceived before I penned my last entry that are yet to enter the world – however, since I was just beginning to get into a stride, get the hang of this writing lark and start to compose some seriously regular culinary musings, six months is a long time.
I knew it would happen. There was simply no way I was ever going to find the motivation (or time, or desire for that matter) to work full time for ‘the man’ and continue to live the life of an out of work food writer. The creative muscle just wouldn’t have time to exercise and by June the muscle was fast wasting away. Which is a shame because I was at the start of quite an interesting culinary adventure. I’d just cooked pigs’ feet for the first time and was happily ready to move onwards to the head. I had grand plans to make my own salamis and air-dried hams, I’d planned out a vegetable patch for the back garden and growing timetable to yield fresh fruits and vegetables for the whole year. I’d bought a book on how to make your own cheese. My bread baking skills had even progressed from woeful to merely inadequate. And then it all stopped.
The cooking didn’t stop. Or, at least, not entirely. I still found the time to create and research and taste and improve and make notes and cook old favourites. What stopped was the meticulous recording of what was being cooked. The words that seemed to flow out freely in the wake of every successful and non-successful epicurean experiment just dried up and I kept kidding myself that it was just a temporary lull – that after a holiday I would happily type out five thousand words about the incredible food I enjoyed in Thailand or that a brief trip to the Smokehouse or butcher or fishmonger would not only inspire me to cook but also to write about it. Alas, no and now my memory fails in providing me with the requisite amount of information to recall all the things I’ve cooked since ‘Trotter Day’. The cause of this drought was not lack of desire per se, it was a lack of desire brought on my acute boredom of doing a job that I simply did not want to do, and after spending eight brain-numbing, mind-melting, eye-bleedingly dull hours sat in front of a computer screen the last thing one wants to do is spend further time staring at a VDU. Couple that with a jaded lack of motivation and fear that I’d ‘sold-out’ and I just could not bring myself to write about food and cooking and eating and all the things I loved. I almost felt as if I was an adulterer, like I was cheating on my passion, my life, with a cheap slut – one that I had no real desire or reason to spend any time with at all but doing so left me feeling too guilty to enable me to go back to what I loved without first knocking it on the head.
And so I did. I left my job. And here I am, ever-so-slightly unemployed but deliriously happy. And there is so, so much to tell you about. If only I had the time…
Comments, feedback, thoughts, ideas et cetera are all welcome.
I knew it would happen. There was simply no way I was ever going to find the motivation (or time, or desire for that matter) to work full time for ‘the man’ and continue to live the life of an out of work food writer. The creative muscle just wouldn’t have time to exercise and by June the muscle was fast wasting away. Which is a shame because I was at the start of quite an interesting culinary adventure. I’d just cooked pigs’ feet for the first time and was happily ready to move onwards to the head. I had grand plans to make my own salamis and air-dried hams, I’d planned out a vegetable patch for the back garden and growing timetable to yield fresh fruits and vegetables for the whole year. I’d bought a book on how to make your own cheese. My bread baking skills had even progressed from woeful to merely inadequate. And then it all stopped.
The cooking didn’t stop. Or, at least, not entirely. I still found the time to create and research and taste and improve and make notes and cook old favourites. What stopped was the meticulous recording of what was being cooked. The words that seemed to flow out freely in the wake of every successful and non-successful epicurean experiment just dried up and I kept kidding myself that it was just a temporary lull – that after a holiday I would happily type out five thousand words about the incredible food I enjoyed in Thailand or that a brief trip to the Smokehouse or butcher or fishmonger would not only inspire me to cook but also to write about it. Alas, no and now my memory fails in providing me with the requisite amount of information to recall all the things I’ve cooked since ‘Trotter Day’. The cause of this drought was not lack of desire per se, it was a lack of desire brought on my acute boredom of doing a job that I simply did not want to do, and after spending eight brain-numbing, mind-melting, eye-bleedingly dull hours sat in front of a computer screen the last thing one wants to do is spend further time staring at a VDU. Couple that with a jaded lack of motivation and fear that I’d ‘sold-out’ and I just could not bring myself to write about food and cooking and eating and all the things I loved. I almost felt as if I was an adulterer, like I was cheating on my passion, my life, with a cheap slut – one that I had no real desire or reason to spend any time with at all but doing so left me feeling too guilty to enable me to go back to what I loved without first knocking it on the head.
And so I did. I left my job. And here I am, ever-so-slightly unemployed but deliriously happy. And there is so, so much to tell you about. If only I had the time…
Comments, feedback, thoughts, ideas et cetera are all welcome.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Wisdom that comes with age
January 30
“You need to stop calling people kids,” Andy Battaglia told me the other night while we had dinner at Monkey Bar.
I have taken to doing that. You might have seen me do it on this blog from time to time — I say things like "the bright kids at Eater.”
I mean it as a compliment. Kids are energetic and enthusiastic.
But Andy, who is my cultural guru, says it makes me sound old.
“I am old,” I told him.
“No you’re not,” said Andy, who just turned 33.
I’ll be 41 in April, which isn’t, you know, old old, but it means I have a little perspective. And I realized last night that it has made me slightly less stupid — my internal “you’ve had too much to drink! Stop, stop now!” alarm goes off much earlier than it used to.
Back when I was truly young, and living in Bangkok, that alarm went off when it was time to find a taxi to fall into rather than pass out on the street.
I am happy to report that I have never passed out on a Bangkok street.
Last night, it went off while I was talking to beverage writers and such at a rum party at the Brandy Library.
The party was in the bar's basement, down a spiral staircase that required some level of sobriety to navigate.
I had a mini-burger or two while chatting — mostly about world travel if I remember correctly — with assorted people from the drink world. But I didn't eat much because I'd had a meatball hero for lunch, and a meatball hero's a lot of food.
High-end VSOP rum, and an orange-flavored cordial made from rum, were being dispensed from cute little casks, and I sampled them with enthusiasm while talking about the benefits of flying business class with Jack Robertiello, what to do in Argentina with a caterer whose name I have forgotten, places to drink in New Zealand with Naren Young, while also catching up with the regular gang.
I was having a perfectly nice time when, after refilling my little snifter and taking a sip, my better self, watching me from the relative safety and objectivity of my brain, said "THIS IS YOUR LAST DRINK!"
I finished my conversations, put my glass down, said my good-byes and was able to take my gift bag, climb the stairs, get my coat and engage in what seemed like perfectly reasonable parting words with Shawn Kelley and Allen Katz, who were chatting outside the Brandy Library, and made it to my subway. I don't think my speech was even slurred.
This morning, no hangover.
Good alarm.
“You need to stop calling people kids,” Andy Battaglia told me the other night while we had dinner at Monkey Bar.
I have taken to doing that. You might have seen me do it on this blog from time to time — I say things like "the bright kids at Eater.”
I mean it as a compliment. Kids are energetic and enthusiastic.
But Andy, who is my cultural guru, says it makes me sound old.
“I am old,” I told him.
“No you’re not,” said Andy, who just turned 33.
I’ll be 41 in April, which isn’t, you know, old old, but it means I have a little perspective. And I realized last night that it has made me slightly less stupid — my internal “you’ve had too much to drink! Stop, stop now!” alarm goes off much earlier than it used to.
Back when I was truly young, and living in Bangkok, that alarm went off when it was time to find a taxi to fall into rather than pass out on the street.
I am happy to report that I have never passed out on a Bangkok street.
Last night, it went off while I was talking to beverage writers and such at a rum party at the Brandy Library.
The party was in the bar's basement, down a spiral staircase that required some level of sobriety to navigate.
I had a mini-burger or two while chatting — mostly about world travel if I remember correctly — with assorted people from the drink world. But I didn't eat much because I'd had a meatball hero for lunch, and a meatball hero's a lot of food.
High-end VSOP rum, and an orange-flavored cordial made from rum, were being dispensed from cute little casks, and I sampled them with enthusiasm while talking about the benefits of flying business class with Jack Robertiello, what to do in Argentina with a caterer whose name I have forgotten, places to drink in New Zealand with Naren Young, while also catching up with the regular gang.
I was having a perfectly nice time when, after refilling my little snifter and taking a sip, my better self, watching me from the relative safety and objectivity of my brain, said "THIS IS YOUR LAST DRINK!"
I finished my conversations, put my glass down, said my good-byes and was able to take my gift bag, climb the stairs, get my coat and engage in what seemed like perfectly reasonable parting words with Shawn Kelley and Allen Katz, who were chatting outside the Brandy Library, and made it to my subway. I don't think my speech was even slurred.
This morning, no hangover.
Good alarm.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Clubhouse Cafe
January 29
Last night, before having dinner at Monkey Bar, I went to a party at Clubhouse Cafe, which until quite recently was Tintol, a tapas bar specializing in Portuguese wine and food. Now it’s a kosher bar and lounge. Owner Jose de Meirelles also owns Le Marais, a kosher steakhouse across the street, and he saw a demand for a more casual place for people who follow Jewish dietary laws, both for spillover from his steakhouse and, well, just because.
It was a good party. I met Beth Aretsky, who is perhaps best known a “The Grill Bitch” in Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. It made sense that she was there, as Jose used to be partners with Philippe Lajaunie in Les Halles, where Bourdain was chef.
Since the restaurant is kosher, Andrea Strong brought her kosher-keeping mother from Queens to be her guest. That was nice, and I would have chatted more with them but I ended up mostly talking with Jamie Tiampo, who came with the ubiquitous Akiko Katayama.
Jamie's a Sino-Canadian food photographer, food enthusiast, and partner in Dell'Anima. We spoke of many things, including his background (his grandfather left China’s Fujian province at the age of 6 and was raised in the Philippines, one thing led to another and Jamie was born in Calgary and raised in Vancouver, had a career in technology, decided he wanted a career in food and moved to New York). He gave my colleague Sonya Moore pointers on photographing liquids (in brief: It’s very hard to do).
I had a glass of red wine, and then went to dinner.
Last night, before having dinner at Monkey Bar, I went to a party at Clubhouse Cafe, which until quite recently was Tintol, a tapas bar specializing in Portuguese wine and food. Now it’s a kosher bar and lounge. Owner Jose de Meirelles also owns Le Marais, a kosher steakhouse across the street, and he saw a demand for a more casual place for people who follow Jewish dietary laws, both for spillover from his steakhouse and, well, just because.
It was a good party. I met Beth Aretsky, who is perhaps best known a “The Grill Bitch” in Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. It made sense that she was there, as Jose used to be partners with Philippe Lajaunie in Les Halles, where Bourdain was chef.
Since the restaurant is kosher, Andrea Strong brought her kosher-keeping mother from Queens to be her guest. That was nice, and I would have chatted more with them but I ended up mostly talking with Jamie Tiampo, who came with the ubiquitous Akiko Katayama.
Jamie's a Sino-Canadian food photographer, food enthusiast, and partner in Dell'Anima. We spoke of many things, including his background (his grandfather left China’s Fujian province at the age of 6 and was raised in the Philippines, one thing led to another and Jamie was born in Calgary and raised in Vancouver, had a career in technology, decided he wanted a career in food and moved to New York). He gave my colleague Sonya Moore pointers on photographing liquids (in brief: It’s very hard to do).
I had a glass of red wine, and then went to dinner.
Chinese Monkey Bar
January 29
I didn’t know how Chinese Monkey Bar had become.
My friend Andy Battaglia and I were actually supposed to check out a relatively new restaurant last night, but it turns out the chef there was out of town, so we changed plans to see what Chris Cheung was up to. Chris replaced Patricia Yeo, who had been hired by the Glaziers, who own Monkey Bar, to revamp the menu of this formerly old school Midtown bar and restaurant.
Andy admired the restaurant’s walls, which had been painted red with Chinese-style scenes, many involving monkeys, as is appropriate for Monkey Bar, while I assessed the menu.
Everything is served family-style, and although probably only the potstickers were actually Chinese, Chris' style of using Chinese ingredients and techniques, plus some Southeast Asian ones, in Western-looking preparations was more evident than I'd expected. And the food was some of the spiciest I’ve had in Midtown. Who knew?
Here’s what we ate:
Kaffir lime leaf curried chicken salad
Salad of baby vegetables with chile lime dressing
mini short rib spring rolls with truffled Sriracha sauce
classic Cantonese shrimp and pork potstickers
crispy duck breast, lychee, mandarin oranges and Sriracha hoisin
wok seared sirloin steak, chile, garlic and creamed chrysanthemum spinach
I didn’t know how Chinese Monkey Bar had become.
My friend Andy Battaglia and I were actually supposed to check out a relatively new restaurant last night, but it turns out the chef there was out of town, so we changed plans to see what Chris Cheung was up to. Chris replaced Patricia Yeo, who had been hired by the Glaziers, who own Monkey Bar, to revamp the menu of this formerly old school Midtown bar and restaurant.
Andy admired the restaurant’s walls, which had been painted red with Chinese-style scenes, many involving monkeys, as is appropriate for Monkey Bar, while I assessed the menu.
Everything is served family-style, and although probably only the potstickers were actually Chinese, Chris' style of using Chinese ingredients and techniques, plus some Southeast Asian ones, in Western-looking preparations was more evident than I'd expected. And the food was some of the spiciest I’ve had in Midtown. Who knew?
Here’s what we ate:
Kaffir lime leaf curried chicken salad
Salad of baby vegetables with chile lime dressing
mini short rib spring rolls with truffled Sriracha sauce
classic Cantonese shrimp and pork potstickers
crispy duck breast, lychee, mandarin oranges and Sriracha hoisin
wok seared sirloin steak, chile, garlic and creamed chrysanthemum spinach
Monday, January 28, 2008
Australia day in Banff.
Alright guys, so the others couldn't be bothered posting about our Australia day shennanigans so you've got me again, but this time I thought I should stick to the usual formula, instead of doing another written account. I apologise for the length but we had a MASSIVE day. Australia day is bigger in Banff than it is anywhere in Oz apparently.
Josh was up drinking VB and eating a parma at the crack of 11am, which began his day of drinking.
Jin thought a brew in the shower was quite a patriotic way to start the day.
Josh and Golds soon hooked into the nearest version of beer pong they could achieve, where balls were replaced with bottle caps and just thrown at the opposition's cups. Golden put up a brave fight, and despite an attempt at cheating by not scolling his beer, he soon felt under the weather.
He was near munting-point by 1pm
Jin and I looked on with great exuberance. Heathy had gone to work by now... we catch up with him later...
Over at the HI hostel, the bar had opened at 11am, and Josh and Golds joined in on some snow-cricket after some Bundy and cola whilst Jin and I went to town to hit Maccas before beginning our epic pub crawl.
A complete list of pubs and bars we made it to appears below in chronological order:
HI bar
Tommy's
Earl's
Ye Olde Irishe Pube
Rose and Crown
Bruno's
The Paddock
Magpie and Stump
Mel's
Hoodoos
We had begun drinking at home, and luckily I think we all took it pretty slowly at first, increasing in frequency as the night went on.
Handsome Heathy we met as he got off work at Earl's, where he had recently demolished 3 pints. We went on to have some souv and chips (in honour of all you greek aussies [kyle]) and to help Heathy digest his 3 pints. Golden and Heathy disappeared for an hour or so to get changed and meet up at some chick's house. Heathy was a bit tipsy as he'd just had 3 pints.
Josh, Jin and Golden had written a list of challenges which they taped onto the back of their shirts. I'm not sure how many were completed, but it also included a list of pubs to visit, and here Josh is shows crossing off the Rose and Crown from Jin's shirt.
We departed Rose and Crown and headed for Bruno's where we played some pool. Golden and Heathy reappeared around this time, with Golds sporting a new Australian Flag tattoo on his arm. Josh noticed it at some point and asked him where he got it, and pointing at his own arm to indicate the position of the tattoo. Golden, puzzled, looked around over his shoulder (in the opposite direction to where Josh was standing and pointing). Josh then repeated his answer several times, with the same result, before we realised Golden is actually retarded (and in later years would be told he has an IQ of 46).
Here we are (spoken in imitation of Golden) on the way to The Paddock, where we were meeting up with Jae, our new Korean friend, whom we hope will soon replace Jin. As we were walking, Golden received a call from the chick who he'd dropped in earlier that night. They wanted to know where we were so they could catch up with us, but they are MASSIVE drainers so we asked Golds to lie to them about where we were. He didn't and this photo was taken as he was cowering and stumbling away from my vicious barrage of roundhouse punches. The back of my hair also looks kouta.
When the draining chicks caught up with us at the Paddock, Jin and I hid and found Josh and Golds also hiding whilst playing some awesome table-top curling game. It actually looks very similar to lawn-bowls, also.
Our next stop was the Magpie and Stump, where they were serving some Aussie stubbies alongside meat pies. The pies were ok, but didn't really shout 'Australia' as they fell apart when cut, thus demanding a knife and fork, as well as being filled with different veggies, which no self-respecting bloke should have to deal with when drinking VB or when at the footy.
One of Josh and Golden's challenges was to beat some whinging Pom in a scolling comp. Josh beat him even though the Pommy bloke was whinging so hard he spilt half his beer down his front, whilst Golden was defeated in straight sets.
I took some strange pleasure in flicking peanuts at Josh (as you can probably tell).
Here I am sweatily posed with Josh and 'Gregggggay' or Greg, who worked with us for some time before getting fired under hilarious pretenses. A full anecdote shall be released eventually, as it really is abso-freaking-lutely hilarious.
This is Christian, one of our Marcellin-boy roommates from YWCA, whom Josh finds invisible. Luckily someone pointed him out making out with this random chick, and Josh was able to get this beautiful shot off.When we finally all arrived home we psyched ourselves into going and trying to sneak into a nearby-resort's outdoor spa.
Josh was up drinking VB and eating a parma at the crack of 11am, which began his day of drinking.
Jin thought a brew in the shower was quite a patriotic way to start the day.
Josh and Golds soon hooked into the nearest version of beer pong they could achieve, where balls were replaced with bottle caps and just thrown at the opposition's cups. Golden put up a brave fight, and despite an attempt at cheating by not scolling his beer, he soon felt under the weather.
He was near munting-point by 1pm
Jin and I looked on with great exuberance. Heathy had gone to work by now... we catch up with him later...
Over at the HI hostel, the bar had opened at 11am, and Josh and Golds joined in on some snow-cricket after some Bundy and cola whilst Jin and I went to town to hit Maccas before beginning our epic pub crawl.
A complete list of pubs and bars we made it to appears below in chronological order:
HI bar
Tommy's
Earl's
Ye Olde Irishe Pube
Rose and Crown
Bruno's
The Paddock
Magpie and Stump
Mel's
Hoodoos
We had begun drinking at home, and luckily I think we all took it pretty slowly at first, increasing in frequency as the night went on.
Handsome Heathy we met as he got off work at Earl's, where he had recently demolished 3 pints. We went on to have some souv and chips (in honour of all you greek aussies [kyle]) and to help Heathy digest his 3 pints. Golden and Heathy disappeared for an hour or so to get changed and meet up at some chick's house. Heathy was a bit tipsy as he'd just had 3 pints.
Josh, Jin and Golden had written a list of challenges which they taped onto the back of their shirts. I'm not sure how many were completed, but it also included a list of pubs to visit, and here Josh is shows crossing off the Rose and Crown from Jin's shirt.
We departed Rose and Crown and headed for Bruno's where we played some pool. Golden and Heathy reappeared around this time, with Golds sporting a new Australian Flag tattoo on his arm. Josh noticed it at some point and asked him where he got it, and pointing at his own arm to indicate the position of the tattoo. Golden, puzzled, looked around over his shoulder (in the opposite direction to where Josh was standing and pointing). Josh then repeated his answer several times, with the same result, before we realised Golden is actually retarded (and in later years would be told he has an IQ of 46).
Here we are (spoken in imitation of Golden) on the way to The Paddock, where we were meeting up with Jae, our new Korean friend, whom we hope will soon replace Jin. As we were walking, Golden received a call from the chick who he'd dropped in earlier that night. They wanted to know where we were so they could catch up with us, but they are MASSIVE drainers so we asked Golds to lie to them about where we were. He didn't and this photo was taken as he was cowering and stumbling away from my vicious barrage of roundhouse punches. The back of my hair also looks kouta.
When the draining chicks caught up with us at the Paddock, Jin and I hid and found Josh and Golds also hiding whilst playing some awesome table-top curling game. It actually looks very similar to lawn-bowls, also.
Our next stop was the Magpie and Stump, where they were serving some Aussie stubbies alongside meat pies. The pies were ok, but didn't really shout 'Australia' as they fell apart when cut, thus demanding a knife and fork, as well as being filled with different veggies, which no self-respecting bloke should have to deal with when drinking VB or when at the footy.
The theme was continued with footy highlights on TV, including commentaries by Rexall Huntingtontower (his full name).
One of Josh and Golden's challenges was to beat some whinging Pom in a scolling comp. Josh beat him even though the Pommy bloke was whinging so hard he spilt half his beer down his front, whilst Golden was defeated in straight sets.
I took some strange pleasure in flicking peanuts at Josh (as you can probably tell).
We then somehow stumbled to Mel's for some cheap-ass highballs, which helped us in our decision to dance retardly for five seconds.
Golden's list of challenges began to fall off his back, due to Josh's shoddy tape job. However when Jin and I obliged him in patting it back on, (with our muddy-booted feet) he seemed somewhat unhappy for some reason. (You can see some decent boot-prints if you click to enlarge.)
Golden's list of challenges began to fall off his back, due to Josh's shoddy tape job. However when Jin and I obliged him in patting it back on, (with our muddy-booted feet) he seemed somewhat unhappy for some reason. (You can see some decent boot-prints if you click to enlarge.)
Then on to our last stop on the pub-crawl; Hoodoos. Hoodoos is more of a dance club for those that are unfamiliar, and so more drinking plus dancing was had by all. We were joined by folk from work, including our boss (who bought us a round of tequila) and Julie from Earl's, who 'happened' to be there too.
Here I am sweatily posed with Josh and 'Gregggggay' or Greg, who worked with us for some time before getting fired under hilarious pretenses. A full anecdote shall be released eventually, as it really is abso-freaking-lutely hilarious.
This is Christian, one of our Marcellin-boy roommates from YWCA, whom Josh finds invisible. Luckily someone pointed him out making out with this random chick, and Josh was able to get this beautiful shot off.When we finally all arrived home we psyched ourselves into going and trying to sneak into a nearby-resort's outdoor spa.
Handsome is pictured above in his swim gear on the way to the spa. Unfortunately, as soon as I had thrown my towel into the spa enclosure, Heathy called out to signal that a security guard had shown up, so we were forced to make a strategic retreat into the woods before I had a chance to recover the towel.
Homo Neanderthalensis-australis.
Happy Australia Day guys!
Cam
Happy Australia Day guys!
Cam
Rhubarb Dressing
Before I was wondering for answers about these questions I have in mind... Is rhubarb a vegetable? Or a fruit? Or a plant? The answers to my questions: It’s a vegetable that is usually eaten like a fruit. It’s perennial in many areas. Rhubarb is a cool season crop that is grown for its fibrous leaf stalks. Its latin name is Rheum rhabarbarum and commonly called as Rhubarb. It can grow in climates with mild winters up to 2-3 feet wide and tall, depending on variety. To attain its full color, full exposure to the sun is needed. Otherwise we won't be able to obtain the red and yellow varieties. It will take you two years to have your first small harvest of rhubarb because in nature perennial crops are like that. Hmmm... interesting, isn't it? Now with those information, I understand my now favorite jam & dressing–rhubarb.
Surprisingly this hard to find vegetable or season crop can be found in the soil of La Trinidad, Benguet. All the while I thought I can only see rhubarb in Jamie Oliver's Garden. (Btw, He's my all-time favorite chef that's why I bought his book entitled "JAMIE at HOME" and it's basically about his garden)
So I prepared a mixture of tropical fruits and veggies like mangoes, grapes, tomatoes, cucumber and lettuce–a perfect salad for the rhubarb dressing!
Rhubarb is also famous with jams like: Strawberry + Rhubarb and Rhubarb + Ginger and all the endless possibilities that any cook or chef could explore. As for me, I did the Strawberry + Rhubarb but not as a jam but as a salad dressing!
So healthy yet so yummy...My comfort food!Stop the presses! Chef goes on vacation
January 28
I called Bún restaurant in SoHo today to see who their new chef is.
“New chef?” the person on the phone asked.
Yes, I said, because the whole New York food blog world is all in a tizzy that Michael Bao Huynh has left Bún, perhaps to open a noodle shop.
“Where did you read that?”
I told him.
“First I’ve heard of it. He is on vacation in Vietnam, though.”
Now, it’s possible that there has been a kerfuffle in upper management at Bún that hasn’t been communicated to the staff. That happens, but the blogosphere also says that Mr. Huynh is gone from Mai House, the restaurant he runs in partnership with Myriad Restaurant Group. I e-mailed them to ask what was up and got a call from Myriad chief Drew Nieporent. No, he said, he and Michael are still partners in the restaurant, they get along fine, no problems.
Well, I’ve been lied to before, plenty (though not, to my knowledge, by Drew, who can be as tight-lipped as any businessman, but he's no liar). But I still take people at their word until I can’t anymore.
So, as far as I can tell, Michael Bao Huynh is on vacation but still involved in Bún. Running the kitchen at Mai House on a day to day basis, as they have been doing all along, are Spike (not Mike) Mendelsohn and Sean Scotese. (Spike also is a contestant on the next Top Chef, so congratulations to him).
People in the restaurant industry will in no way be surprised that the executive chef isn’t working on the line every day. If someone’s chef at more than one restaurant he (or occasionally she) obviously isn’t cooking at each one every night. That’s why one develops management skills and a good staff.
I called Bún restaurant in SoHo today to see who their new chef is.
“New chef?” the person on the phone asked.
Yes, I said, because the whole New York food blog world is all in a tizzy that Michael Bao Huynh has left Bún, perhaps to open a noodle shop.
“Where did you read that?”
I told him.
“First I’ve heard of it. He is on vacation in Vietnam, though.”
Now, it’s possible that there has been a kerfuffle in upper management at Bún that hasn’t been communicated to the staff. That happens, but the blogosphere also says that Mr. Huynh is gone from Mai House, the restaurant he runs in partnership with Myriad Restaurant Group. I e-mailed them to ask what was up and got a call from Myriad chief Drew Nieporent. No, he said, he and Michael are still partners in the restaurant, they get along fine, no problems.
Well, I’ve been lied to before, plenty (though not, to my knowledge, by Drew, who can be as tight-lipped as any businessman, but he's no liar). But I still take people at their word until I can’t anymore.
So, as far as I can tell, Michael Bao Huynh is on vacation but still involved in Bún. Running the kitchen at Mai House on a day to day basis, as they have been doing all along, are Spike (not Mike) Mendelsohn and Sean Scotese. (Spike also is a contestant on the next Top Chef, so congratulations to him).
People in the restaurant industry will in no way be surprised that the executive chef isn’t working on the line every day. If someone’s chef at more than one restaurant he (or occasionally she) obviously isn’t cooking at each one every night. That’s why one develops management skills and a good staff.
Tahu Isi
Bahan - Bahan :
- 10 buah tahu kulit
Isian :
- wortel diiris2 tipis
- kol diiris tipis
- 2 siung bawang putih haluskan
- 3 siung bawang merah haluskan
- Udang buang kulitnya dan cincang halus (optional)
- 1 sdtminyak wijen
- 3 sdm saos tiram
- lada secukupnya
- 1 sdm tepung maizena dilarutkan dlm 3 sdm air putih
Kulit Tepung :
- 300 gr tepung bumbu
- 100 gr tepung beras
- 1 buah kara ukuran kecil
- air secukupnya
Cooking directions :
- Panaskan wajan, beri minyak goreng dan minyak wijen lalu tumis bumbu halus
- Masukkan udang beri saos tiram, masak hingga kekuningan
- Masukkan sayuran dan tumis hingga matang beri lada
- Masukkan larutan tepung maizena, aduk hingga agak mengental
- Campurkan semua bahan untuk kulit tepung hingga menjadi adonan yg kental
- Ambil tahu kulit, iris tengahnya, masukkan isian lalu celupkan dlm adonan kulit tepung
- Lalu goreng hingga kering dan renyah
- Sajikan
Friday, January 25, 2008
Home, in bed
January 25
Okay, so maybe I shouldn't try to go to three parties in different parts of Manhattan in one night, because now I'm sick. I don't think it's anything serious -- just a bad cold that started with sinus congestion and then settled into my chest.
For almost as long as I can remember my coughs have sounded much worse than they are. I project, from the diaphragm, with great rumbling noises coming out of my lungs. It's the same cough I get any time I have a cold, and it always causes great concern among friends and colleagues.
"You sound like Hellacious," my colleague Elissa Elan said to me the other day, eliciting a confused look from Paul Frumkin. I think he was wondering who Hellacious was.
"She meant, you sound, comma, like, comma, hellacious," I explained.
That must have been on Wednesday the 23rd, because I've been at home in bed ever since. I'm well on the mend, but my cough will still likely scare people.
And my voice is hoarse -- hoarse enough that when I ordered Chinese food from my regular delivery place, Red Hot, they tossed an orange in gratis. It's nice that they care.
Normally I get shredded beef with fresh hot pepper from Red Hot, but in my weakened state I've been feeling a need for more produce, so I've been ordering vegetarian dishes, along with pork fried rice.
I've been drinking fruit smoothies, too, and they have an emotionally therapeutic effect if nothing else.
Oh, I did eat out once this week, on Tuesday. Birdman and I went to T-Bar, a steakhouse on the Upper East Side. Birdman started with the tuna tartare and I had the chopped caesar salad, and we split the porterhouse for two and a bottle of St. Estephe. Then they buried us in dessert -- strawberry shortcake, cheesecake, and a caramelized banana parfait.
Okay, so maybe I shouldn't try to go to three parties in different parts of Manhattan in one night, because now I'm sick. I don't think it's anything serious -- just a bad cold that started with sinus congestion and then settled into my chest.
For almost as long as I can remember my coughs have sounded much worse than they are. I project, from the diaphragm, with great rumbling noises coming out of my lungs. It's the same cough I get any time I have a cold, and it always causes great concern among friends and colleagues.
"You sound like Hellacious," my colleague Elissa Elan said to me the other day, eliciting a confused look from Paul Frumkin. I think he was wondering who Hellacious was.
"She meant, you sound, comma, like, comma, hellacious," I explained.
That must have been on Wednesday the 23rd, because I've been at home in bed ever since. I'm well on the mend, but my cough will still likely scare people.
And my voice is hoarse -- hoarse enough that when I ordered Chinese food from my regular delivery place, Red Hot, they tossed an orange in gratis. It's nice that they care.
Normally I get shredded beef with fresh hot pepper from Red Hot, but in my weakened state I've been feeling a need for more produce, so I've been ordering vegetarian dishes, along with pork fried rice.
I've been drinking fruit smoothies, too, and they have an emotionally therapeutic effect if nothing else.
Oh, I did eat out once this week, on Tuesday. Birdman and I went to T-Bar, a steakhouse on the Upper East Side. Birdman started with the tuna tartare and I had the chopped caesar salad, and we split the porterhouse for two and a bottle of St. Estephe. Then they buried us in dessert -- strawberry shortcake, cheesecake, and a caramelized banana parfait.
Frandy Susatia
Hello there everyone!I would just like to share the news that The Artist Chef is now reaching the global market. The first to respond to the FILIPINAS magazine article is Frandy Susatia! He booked months in advance to make sure that he got a slot when he visited Manila in November. He contacted me via text and later on we emailed each other for the details. Frandy is an Indonesian based in North Carolina, USA and practices medicine as a Neurologist. He was in the Philippines four years ago and stayed as a resident doctor in Santo Tomas University Hospital (UST) for two years. There he met his fiancee Berna who is also a Doctor of Internal Medicine. No wonder he is very attached to our island.
They talk...
we talk...
A very unforgettable conversation.
The joy in me despite the very tiring preparation for The Artist Chef dinner.
Frandy and Berna are getting married soon.
After the pictorial Frandy gave me a gift and asked me to open it immediately. He said it was his token of thanks for accommodating him. I was surprised by the giraffes he bought from Hobbes and Landes (actually one of my favorite shops).
Another addition to the gifts given to me by my customers. I feel so grateful for the blessings that God is giving me--the success story of The Artist Chef.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
My phone tells me that it’s Tuesday the 22nd of January 2008, just after 11pm, and I’ve just returned home from four-and-a-half hours parceling greasy popcorn out to overweight tourists. I’ve come home by myself, as the others have gone a-drinkin’ and so I find that I now have the perfect opportunity to blog once more.
Some of you may cry to hear that this is largely a text-only blog. So once you’ve dried your eyes please read on if you wish at all for any deeper insight into our travels so far.
This isn’t a tale of adventure in exotic places, a gripping thriller or even a heart-warming romance. I’m sure I could twist enough words to turn it into any of the above, and sure there are elements of all of these to a certain degree, nor am I going into any extraordinary detail journal entry by journal entry staying as closely to each factual event as possible, because that would be either pure genius if I was able to execute it perfectly, or a huge piece of boring shit if I didn’t. Instead I want to give you ‘the gist.’ Provide you guys back home with more of a sense, feel or taste of what our journey has been about so far, and I hope you can take something away from it as well.
As a group of mates, and all of you know this, we’re not without a flaw or two (the list has not yet been completed after all these years) and many of you reading would consider yourselves very familiar with the group and our idiosyncrasies. Some of you would consider yourselves integral to some of these idiosyncrasies.
To roughly outline what I’m talking about, I think as a whole ‘the Fags’ have been known to be friendly but bitchy, fun but lazy and hard to organize, and also generally good blokes whilst remaining somewhat insular at the same time. We certainly aren’t known for taking huge leaps out of our comfort zone. The reader will also note that these characteristics can also be applied (to some degree or other) to any one of us, and perhaps even yourself.
Having said all this one would have to question how this trip came to be at all (given we can’t often organize ourselves into being in one place at any given time when we’re in Melbourne).
I remember in 2007, maybe not much longer after the infamous canoeing adventure and possible even before, Josh began talking to me about going on a trip. Now when I say ‘talking’ I mean in the sense in that Josh always proposes his ideas. Josh is quite thoughtful by nature (surprising to some) and when it comes to big events like these he can be extremely cautious. It was the same with canoeing, and I completely understand his motivations. Josh likes to test the waters before he takes the plunge (that’s a metaphor, idiot). Josh likes to ‘fish.’
‘Hey Cam, how cool would it be if we all went camping somewhere random together.’
‘Yeah, it’d be pretty cool I guess. We could just stay the night at someone’s place, though.’
‘Well, yeah, but what if we did like an awesome-canoeing-camp thing. Like a canoe-camp. Have a lazy paddle during the day, sit back with some drinks around a fire after dark kind-of-thing.’
‘Would you like to come for a swim, Joshy?’
And so you get the gist. After a few more of these conversations I might eventually get the point that Josh actually is serious about the idea (even though it isn’t that crazy to begin with) and I would inevitably sign up to the idea, thinking that I had so much time before the event that I would have plenty of wriggling room to back out. Sometimes, I might need some help to get the message, though.
‘Hey Cam, Josh is organizing a canoeing trip,’ announces Jin. ‘You in?’
His success with that particular trip no doubt bolstered Josh when it came to his ultimate plan. Josh of course has plenty of Canadian connections through his family, and has visited the country several times before.
‘Hey Cam, how cool would it be to randomly fly off to Canada for three months once uni finishes this year?
‘Yeah, that’d be pretty cool. Who’s doing that?’
‘Oh, no-one. I meant how cool would it be if you and I flew off to Canada for three months?’
‘Yeah that’d be alright, I guess. Why do you ask?’
‘Let’s just play Halo, ok?’
Golden was next to sign on, with only the giddy school-girl enthusiasm that Golden can muster. An eternally optimistic chap, young Michael is characterized by his ability to love almost anything so long as you can sell it to him correctly, only becoming disagreeable when he is disagreed with. I wish I could claim, I taught him everything he knows, but at the least I have further refined his unique persona over the last few weeks. (The lessons may not be peaceful, but at the same time no one has been hurt, either.)
‘Hey Goldie. Josh and I are going to Canada. It’s going to be the koooooots! We’ll do the skiing, the parties, the women and we’ll also get awesome jobs while we’re there, too. Imagine!’
‘Yeah sure, mang. I’m in!’
If I remember correctly we found out Heathy and Jinna would come with us, at roughly the same time, a little closer to the departure date. Apparently Josh’s mum had been talking to Heathy’s mum, trying to get the pressure on Alex to go. He certainly had the funds we soon discovered, (the Handsome Man possesses the riches that Golden covets so greatly) and as soon as we helped convince him to come Jin had to seriously weigh up his options. In Jin’s case, an extended, late-night, bilingual discussion at home with his brother, Sam, convinced him he should come with us. (After many shots of soju they retired for eight-rounds of bare-knuckle kickboxing and nine-rounds of flaming hot dragon chicken.)
At this point I decided that I was past the point of backing out and my secretly provisional ‘yes’ was a decidedly real ‘I’m practically gone.’
Some of you may cry to hear that this is largely a text-only blog. So once you’ve dried your eyes please read on if you wish at all for any deeper insight into our travels so far.
This isn’t a tale of adventure in exotic places, a gripping thriller or even a heart-warming romance. I’m sure I could twist enough words to turn it into any of the above, and sure there are elements of all of these to a certain degree, nor am I going into any extraordinary detail journal entry by journal entry staying as closely to each factual event as possible, because that would be either pure genius if I was able to execute it perfectly, or a huge piece of boring shit if I didn’t. Instead I want to give you ‘the gist.’ Provide you guys back home with more of a sense, feel or taste of what our journey has been about so far, and I hope you can take something away from it as well.
As a group of mates, and all of you know this, we’re not without a flaw or two (the list has not yet been completed after all these years) and many of you reading would consider yourselves very familiar with the group and our idiosyncrasies. Some of you would consider yourselves integral to some of these idiosyncrasies.
To roughly outline what I’m talking about, I think as a whole ‘the Fags’ have been known to be friendly but bitchy, fun but lazy and hard to organize, and also generally good blokes whilst remaining somewhat insular at the same time. We certainly aren’t known for taking huge leaps out of our comfort zone. The reader will also note that these characteristics can also be applied (to some degree or other) to any one of us, and perhaps even yourself.
Having said all this one would have to question how this trip came to be at all (given we can’t often organize ourselves into being in one place at any given time when we’re in Melbourne).
I remember in 2007, maybe not much longer after the infamous canoeing adventure and possible even before, Josh began talking to me about going on a trip. Now when I say ‘talking’ I mean in the sense in that Josh always proposes his ideas. Josh is quite thoughtful by nature (surprising to some) and when it comes to big events like these he can be extremely cautious. It was the same with canoeing, and I completely understand his motivations. Josh likes to test the waters before he takes the plunge (that’s a metaphor, idiot). Josh likes to ‘fish.’
‘Hey Cam, how cool would it be if we all went camping somewhere random together.’
‘Yeah, it’d be pretty cool I guess. We could just stay the night at someone’s place, though.’
‘Well, yeah, but what if we did like an awesome-canoeing-camp thing. Like a canoe-camp. Have a lazy paddle during the day, sit back with some drinks around a fire after dark kind-of-thing.’
‘Would you like to come for a swim, Joshy?’
And so you get the gist. After a few more of these conversations I might eventually get the point that Josh actually is serious about the idea (even though it isn’t that crazy to begin with) and I would inevitably sign up to the idea, thinking that I had so much time before the event that I would have plenty of wriggling room to back out. Sometimes, I might need some help to get the message, though.
‘Hey Cam, Josh is organizing a canoeing trip,’ announces Jin. ‘You in?’
His success with that particular trip no doubt bolstered Josh when it came to his ultimate plan. Josh of course has plenty of Canadian connections through his family, and has visited the country several times before.
‘Hey Cam, how cool would it be to randomly fly off to Canada for three months once uni finishes this year?
‘Yeah, that’d be pretty cool. Who’s doing that?’
‘Oh, no-one. I meant how cool would it be if you and I flew off to Canada for three months?’
‘Yeah that’d be alright, I guess. Why do you ask?’
‘Let’s just play Halo, ok?’
Golden was next to sign on, with only the giddy school-girl enthusiasm that Golden can muster. An eternally optimistic chap, young Michael is characterized by his ability to love almost anything so long as you can sell it to him correctly, only becoming disagreeable when he is disagreed with. I wish I could claim, I taught him everything he knows, but at the least I have further refined his unique persona over the last few weeks. (The lessons may not be peaceful, but at the same time no one has been hurt, either.)
‘Hey Goldie. Josh and I are going to Canada. It’s going to be the koooooots! We’ll do the skiing, the parties, the women and we’ll also get awesome jobs while we’re there, too. Imagine!’
‘Yeah sure, mang. I’m in!’
If I remember correctly we found out Heathy and Jinna would come with us, at roughly the same time, a little closer to the departure date. Apparently Josh’s mum had been talking to Heathy’s mum, trying to get the pressure on Alex to go. He certainly had the funds we soon discovered, (the Handsome Man possesses the riches that Golden covets so greatly) and as soon as we helped convince him to come Jin had to seriously weigh up his options. In Jin’s case, an extended, late-night, bilingual discussion at home with his brother, Sam, convinced him he should come with us. (After many shots of soju they retired for eight-rounds of bare-knuckle kickboxing and nine-rounds of flaming hot dragon chicken.)
At this point I decided that I was past the point of backing out and my secretly provisional ‘yes’ was a decidedly real ‘I’m practically gone.’
This blog has gone on too long already, I know, so I'll have to continue it some other time. Hopefully I'll get to writing about the actual trip, rather than the events leading up to it....
Mediterranean Salad
Ingredients for 2:
4-5 leaves of romaine lettuce chopped
1 small sliced tomato
3-4 sliced radishes
1/2 an onion sliced
1 small carrot finely sliced
About a 1/2 cup of sliced cucumber
For the dressing: lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper.
Cornish Hen with herbs and salad
For 2 persons: 2 cornish hen
Herb mixture: 4-5 crushed cloves of garlic, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 tablespoon of mixed mediterranean or Italian herbs (or any herbs you like), 2 tablespoons of fresh chopped thyme.
After washing and cleaning the hen and letting them drain, rub them with salt, pepper, 1 teaspoon of butter for both as well as the mixture of herbs prepared earlier. Heat the oven for 375 and bake until done. everynow and then bathe with the juices and drizzle white wine until golden and done.
I normally serve the hen with this:
Mixed green salad with avocados and asparagus:
lettuce (of your choice), sweet corn, asparagus (canned or cooked earlier), half a red bellpepper diced, 1 avocado sliced into 4 or 5 slices and some onions on top.
Dressing: juice of 1 lemon, 1 teaspoon of Dijon mustard, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, 1/2 teaspoon of some italian herbs mix, salt and pepper.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Banff at night.
These are some night shots of Banff that I took a few days ago. It was snowing pretty heavily, but it's only appropriate I think.
Banff downtown.
Random house with random scary red light.
Lights at the bottom of Tunnel Mountain. I've lost count of how many times I've walked up and down this little mountain.
Tunnel Mountain continued...
Ground-lamp thingy surrounded by snow.
As a side note (mainly so that I don't forget) this was on the same night as staff-only, midnight viewing session of Cloverfield, just another perks of working at the cinema! By the way, not to spoil the movie or anything but Dumbledore dies.
Spot-the-campbell game.
A cool shot of Cam, who accompanied me on my night-shooting expedition.
I'm going to do this again on a clear night.
After work today, Josh pointed out how we seemed to have adpated completely to our Banff lifestyle. We've gotten into a comfortable living pattern of waking up, skiing and going to work on days we have work. Which is good in many ways, but I'd better make sure not to let my remaining days in Canada fly by aimlessly.
Jin.
Banff downtown.
Random house with random scary red light.
Lights at the bottom of Tunnel Mountain. I've lost count of how many times I've walked up and down this little mountain.
Tunnel Mountain continued...
Ground-lamp thingy surrounded by snow.
As a side note (mainly so that I don't forget) this was on the same night as staff-only, midnight viewing session of Cloverfield, just another perks of working at the cinema! By the way, not to spoil the movie or anything but Dumbledore dies.
Spot-the-campbell game.
A cool shot of Cam, who accompanied me on my night-shooting expedition.
I'm going to do this again on a clear night.
After work today, Josh pointed out how we seemed to have adpated completely to our Banff lifestyle. We've gotten into a comfortable living pattern of waking up, skiing and going to work on days we have work. Which is good in many ways, but I'd better make sure not to let my remaining days in Canada fly by aimlessly.
Jin.
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