Angela L. Das

Every year on the days leading up to Christmas my Italian mother has a flurry of Cooking Frenzy, and she makes what she has made every year of her life: Christmas Ravioli. Over time, I’ve come to realize that what we grew up calling “ravioli” are more accurately called cappelletti, which are named after the little hats that nuns wear (think Sally Field in ‘The Flying Nun‘). The family tradition has these cute little parcels of meat and garlic in a clear soup with a generous helping of Parmesan on top. Remarkably, the recipe echoes the economic environment she grew up in.

A baby boomer, born in rural, northern Italy right after the Second World War, families my mutter grew up with knew how to utilize food and how to maximize to feed as many mouths as possible. Every usable part of everything is incorporated into the final meal. My grandparents still try to instill this philosophy in me and my brothers, which is something that in some countries remains the same, and in others has sort of been forgotten. In a country like the US, where food is plentiful and constant, there’s a lot of wastage, plain and simple. In a third world country, and even some European countries by comparison, food is purchased and composed more carefully, with greater economic consideration  factoring into the recipes. (That is, until the recent economic crisis has encouraged everyone purchasing in the US dollar to be slightly more thrifty, overall.) For example, the cut of meat used to make the soup is later taken out, cooled, sliced and becomes the base for the first course of Vitello Tonnato. It should be noted though, because I’m no lush when it comes down to it, that since veal was not always readily available in the countries we’ve lived in, I’ve come to actually prefer beef in its place. The ravioli filling is made up partially of this meat, and a mix of others, plus a healthy handful of flat leaf parsley, and can be made in advance, allowing time for the different flavors to fuse.

I’m hoping that this economy will inspire more “economy” (stay with me, I’m about to explain) in the sense of being clever with what you’ve got to begin with. That out of this period, which we will call a “World Depression” no doubt, this necessity will breed delicious family traditions that people will pass on to their own families (like I did this year, teaching my mother in law, her sister and my husband’s cousin how to make ravioli from scratch), and talk about, and blog about, ad infinitum.

Homemade Christmas ravioli I made the other week.

A couple of bad experiences too many, and I learned my lesson: Bring Your Own…

“Something about traveling always makes me crave junk food,” a traveling companion once told me. I had to agree, as I stuffed my face with a McDonald’s cheeseburger Happy Meal (ah, but those were the days…). What is it that is so appealing? The friendly yellow arches amidst a torrent of unfamiliar people? The hostility of the people behind the check-in counters endlessly typing away only to present you with a boarding pass and a soulless smile that says, “I’ve long since abandoned my hopes for humanity”? (This is particular to LAX, by the way and similar to Idiocrasy’s “Welcome to Costco, I love you…”)

The answer is actually yes. Junk food is comfort food and when we’re in transit, we’re in need of some comfort. While traveling itself can be a joy to experience, the antichamber of airport terminals is similar to a birthing process. You have to squeeze yourself through crowds and wait in cramped lines and finally pass security before you can gallop down a deserted beach on horseback at sunset. Ok, that was a disturbing analogy, so let’s just forget about that and move on.

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Lavender flowers are mostly seen only in luxurious restaurant dessert menus, but if handled carefully, using culinary lavender can bring a deliciously sweet and elegant hue to you own cooking. Because of its perfumey and slightly musky scent, culinary lavender is commonly used in Herbes de Provence mixes, which alongside basil, thyme, savory and fennel adds a summery flavour.

Cooking with lavender pairs exceptionally well with lemon, so naturally brings out the flavour in many fish dishes.

A word of caution on cooking with lavender: lavender oil is considered mildly poisonous, and should not be added in place of any ingredients listed in these recipes. Also, if you are making the lavender for cooking purposes on your own, make sure the oils are completely dried out form the buds. Follow the instructions, and you shouldn’t have any problems at all. Symptoms of lavender poisoning include headaches, decreased appetite and constipation, but should clear within 24 hours. Also, if purchasing culinary lavender, you have nothing to worry about as these are buds that have been dried out before being sifted of impurities.

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It’s funny to me how many people I meet still have a fear of the kitchen. My toddler nephew loves to cook. He’s only three, but it’s never too early to start getting involved in an integral part of family life and his future wellbeing.

I can comfortably credit a lot of stuff I’ve learned outside my field to movies, and cooking is no exception. Food and cooking is an integral part of storytelling. When I recently watched the Disney/Pixar film Ratatouille, I was struck by how wonderfully instructional it is. In the story, Colette is a chef at Gousteau’s, a famous Parisian restaurant, and is showing Linguini, the new guy, the ropes around the kitchen. The late Chef Gousteau had published a book titled ‘Anyone Can Cook’ that inspires the main character of the movie (a charming rat named Remy) to be a cook, too. The movie is inspirational and I challange anyone to watch it and not head straight for their kitchen afterwards. But as with anything else you watch, the instructions she gives should be taken with a grain of salt.

Colette’s “Rules”

1. Energy and Time

A good chef knows how to time her (or his!) cooking. She should map out the road to dinnertime carefully to maximize efficiency, minimize disaster and still have enough verve to clean up and look good sitting down to enjoy it. Before I start sounding like a 1950’s Home Economics textbook, it is a talent you have anyway. Everyone makes lists, and for someone particularly concerned with timing, all it takes is reading the recipes an thinking: “If this take X minutes to bake, what am I doing while the oven’s on?”. You honestly don’t need a sous-chef and a plongeur to make an edible, homecooked three-course meal, just good organization. (more…)

Andre Organic Lavender

My love affair with the smell of lavender began in Provence when I was sixteen. With plenty of purple fields, gorgeous sunshine and blue skies, I thought I was in heaven at the time, and I swore when I left that I’d go back to live there some day. So imagine my surprise when on the road to Sanford I found a lavender field and the Andre Organic Lavender Shop.

With a particular recipe in mind, I visited this shop in the middle of the Santa Ynez Valley and was amazed at the variety of lavender products I had never seen before. Among them, a Lavender Breath Spray, which packed a strong punch of refreshment and woke us right up and out of our wine haze. Lavender, amongst its many uses is also a known natural anti-inflammatory and antiseptic. So, if a bit powerful, a good lavender breath spray should clear you of bad breath for life!

I was looking, in particular, for culinary lavender. Culinary lavender is collected from the flower buds, picked before blooming, dried, and sifted through carefully for any impurities such as dirt or leaves. The buds are what contain essential oil from which commercial scented oils are derived, and the collection of culinary lavender is a careful process that requires good timing and patience, of which I have neither.

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A "hodad" is a 50's term for surfer groupie

It started, as it has for so many since, with Guy Fieri’s show on The Food Network.  The show, plus the appeal of seeing something on TV one Saturday morning, liking it, and driving 3 hours to go and see it for myself. It also starts with a literal starvation for a decent burger while living in London (a matter not addressed by English restauranteurs until relatively recently).

A good burger shouldn’t be hard to make. I’m not for over-seasoned beef, over-cooked or processed into perfect looking, 12 cm diameter patties. Good bread, good meat, good salad and good ketchup should be all that is required.  And, generally speaking, the number of napkins used to eat a burger with any kind of social etiquette is directly proportional to the excellence of the flavour. My order of 1 hamburger, 1 side of onions and 1 strawberry milkshake took approximately 11 napkins to consume gracefully, scoring Hodad’s an 11 on a normal scale of 1 to 10. Good job, guys! (more…)

My first (of probably many) trips to Bakersfield was for a fundraising poker night my future brother in-law was organizing for his son’s baseball team. We drove up Saturday night, where Brian gave everyone a run for their money at the tables before losing his $100 buy-in. (So what? Its for a good cause and the taco bar was both home cooked and amazing.) Gladly, I have not yet fallen into the Los Angelean mind-set that everything is too far to drive with too much traffic involved. In fact, I loved the hour-long drive through farms and fields and beautiful landscapes so much, I couldn’t stop taking pictures on the way there, or the way back.

So we’re driving along Highway 126 and I’m literally drooling at all the fresh fruit and veggie stalls since we left all our cash in Bakersfield. Assuming these stalls won’t accept credit cards, we resigned ourselves to redirecting our route home via Los Olivos for a bit of Sunday relaxation. Then I start to see these signs for a “Honey Tasting Room” and decide to make a stop.

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Pea Soup Andersens & Why I think the Danish Are to Blame for Buellton

To begin at the beginning for, yes, Part II of the story, Buellton is a city in the Santa Ynez Valley that can be found by veering off the US 101 north of Santa Barbara. By forcing yourself to slow down to an abrupt halt in order to stop there (on your way to far prettier places), you would actually be demonstrating the fundamental principle of inertia. This is, by no small coincidence, the very definition of Buellton’s disposition.

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I have a bee in my bonnet. It’s called Buellton. Possibly the creepiest town I’ve ever visited in my life. I can’t put my finger on what it was exactly that made me feel weird to begin with, but I can tell you that by the time we made it to the Hitching Post for dinner, I was pretty creeped out. If you want to eat the most amazing steak in the world and be literally scared shitless while chewing, visit The Hitching Post in Buellton, CA. Me and my fiance (of 2 days- hooray!), checked into our hotel, hopped in the car and headed straight for the excitement of the famous “Sideways” restaurant.

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