Ain't nothing like the real thing

I really love getting the New York Times on the weekend. Sounds pretentious - I know. The best part is digging through the weekend magazine and seeing what recipes have been published. The hit rate is actually very high (David Tanis' duck roasts are genius) with the occasional miss (tomato jam did not deliver the promised floral hit). Recently, Japanese Katsu Curry was featured, a dish that I had only experienced through cheap bento lunches and instant mixes. My immediate response was - why bother?

Well, a more open minded friend made the curry and pronounced it delicous. And he was right. Richly spiced with fresh fruit sweetness and bright ginger. Excellent. It was like having real mortadella for the first time after a lifetime of bad Oscar Meyer bologna. Though cheap knock-offs abound, it's always worth seeking out the real thing.

Katsu Curry (courtesy NYT Magazine)

For the sauce:
3 tablespoons butter
1 pound ground pork
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons flour
3 tablespoons curry powder, preferably S&B (see note)
1 onion, peeled and quartered
3 cloves garlic, peeled
1 green apple, peeled, cored and quartered
1 mango, peeled, cored and quartered
1 2-inch piece ginger, peeled and cut into coins
1 large carrot, peeled and cut into coins
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 cup low-sodium chicken broth, plus more as needed

For the pork:
Peanut or canola oil
3 eggs, beaten
1 cup panko bread crumbs
6 thin, center-cut boneless pork chops, lightly pounded
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Cooked short-grain Japanese rice
Raw cabbage, thinly sliced
Tonkatsu sauce (optional) (see note).

1. Make the sauce: Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the ground pork and season generously with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the meat has browned and the moisture has evaporated. Mix in the flour and curry powder, turn the heat to low and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, to make a porky roux.

2. Meanwhile, in a food processor, pulse together the onion, garlic, apple, mango, ginger, carrot, tomato paste and Worcestershire sauce until a grainy purée forms. Transfer the purée to the pork and mix until combined. The sauce should be very thick.

3. Stir in the chicken broth and cook, partly covered, over low heat for about an hour, stirring occasionally. If needed, add a bit more stock to loosen the sauce.

4. Prepare the pork: Heat 1 inch of oil in a frying pan and set a candy thermometer in the oil. Place the eggs in a wide shallow bowl and the panko in another. When the oil temperature reaches 320 degrees, season the pork chops all over with salt and pepper. Cover them, one by one, in the egg and then in the panko, and fry in batches in the hot oil until browned, for about 4 minutes per side. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate and let drain for 5 minutes. Slice the pork chops against the grain. Serve the curry sauce over cooked Japanese rice. Top with the sliced pork and serve with a small handful of sliced cabbage. If you choose, drizzle the cutlet with a little tonkatsu sauce. Serves 6.

Adapted from Hiroko Shimbo, author of “The Sushi Experience,” and Sam Sifton.

A Tree Grows in West Hollywood

Walking along Third Street - there was this GIANT banyen tree, sheltering an elementary school. So huge and unruly, so odd on a street of hip indie shops, so fucking perfect.

Yay for Civliized Lunches

You ever show up at someone's house for a meal - and then get completely blown away by the care and hard work that's been put in? Keitha - a friend of my friend Vanessa in Los Angeles, invited us over for lunch - and what a fantastic meal. Amazingly civilized and well put together table - delicous and stunningly prepared French food. Easy and funny conversation... it's good to be a Grown Up.

Shock of the New

In a large city like LA - there is the time, money, and space to really explore ideas to the fullest. There is always something new for the eye - done in a way that feels natural and creative.

Here is a life sized horse lamp from a Dutch company Mooi(http://www.moooi.com/collection.html). At first glance - it seems a little kitschy - but the sheer presence and workmanship of the piece is pretty magnificent. A great mix of high glamour and sinister edge - you can imagine it being in an Dario Argento movie.

Bedside Reading

Recently, Edward Behr's Art of Eating ( the most excellent food quarterly ever - you feel fucking smarter and more virtuous just holding a copy) - listed out his top 7 cook books of all time. Needless to say - I was felt unjustifiably proud that I matched up on two our choices.

Not surprising, many of them were from the 70's, when Mr Behr was coming of age as a food person. More surprisingly, most gave recipes in paragraph form (ie: Elizabeth David's French Provincial Cooking). In a sense they are awful cookbooks - the recipes are brief and light on instruction. But they are heavy on deep food knowledge and inspiration. They assume a high level of experience from the reader - something that I love (it makes me feel like I've passed some sort of insider's test). I realize that my favorite cook books now, are less and less about measures and cooking times, and more about making me want to get in there and make something completely fucking delicious for my friends and family.

My bed side no longer has a side table - instead, a stack of cook books and books on food are piled in stacks that threaten to tumble over. There was a time when there would have been some of the nudge nudge wink wink magazines (with the Internet - is there anyone who actually buys porn?) But, as I've gotten older - I have found just as much pleasure in my stomach and, ultimately, my heart.

So - in no particular order - here are my favorite current cook books - I am going to limit it to 5 (though I reserve the right to change the list at any time - I think I've settled on some keepers). I suspect that French cookbooks will invade my list in the future - it's a style cooking that I have not explored fully.

• Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan. Worth it for the primer on pasta alone. The recipes are simple and inspire complete confidence.
• Japanese Cooking, A Simple Art by Shizuo Tsuji. You'll see teriyaki sauce in a whole new light - and even if you don't cook from it - you will order much better at a Japanese restaurant.
• The Kitchen Diaries by Nigel Slater. Mr. Slater's slavish devotion to stripping pretense out of food is a pretense in of itself. But here it works like genius - a year in the life of his cooking. Makes you want to have people over, grill something, and settle around a large farmhouse table with your friends late into a summer night.
• Made in Italy by Georgio Locatelli. I have an odd Anglophile-ness, and I have no idea where it comes from (though I mostly blame my friend Sara Gannholm). This is Italian cooking by way of a renowned London Chef. It's as thick as a phone book - but waaay more fun to read. Grounded in simple foods and generous cooking - I stayed up till the early hours of the morning, flipping through it's pages, using it as the basis to organize my truffle dinner.
• A Plate of Figs by David Tanis. Very recent entry - the recipes are built around menus for 8 to 12 people - simple recipes, easy to tackle, but with delicious results. The duck 'hams' I made for the truffle dinner was a stunner, deeply flavored and delicious - a real hit. It was great seeing the transformative powers of French cooking techniques at work.

Practical Application of Said Truffles

Is there anything as lovely as the pfft-pfft-pfft sound of a truffle being shaved? The truffle shaver is an object of pure mechanical joy - designed for one thing only (fuck you multi-use kitchen tools!) - to shower food with blessed, grown up, unalloyed pleasure.

White truffles, raw egg yolk, creamy risotto vs. tournandos rossini with plethora of black truffles and foie. Ying and Yang. Ebony and Ivory. LA and New York. One heady, rich, yet delicately refined, the other forcefully and demandingly delicious.

And these were only two of the six course we had that evening. It felt like such decadence - the only possible way to end the night was to bludgeon baby seals and smoke cigars made by Cuban child labour. So we did.

These little beauties are truffles - the real deal Italian black and white truffles (you'd be amazed how many people only associate the term 'truffle' with chocolate). Once a year or so - I splurge on some truffles - and a large group of my friends get together and have a total blow out. I am not a good wine drinker - so this is my real extravagance.

The black ones will be mostly cooked with - but the white ones... well, they are really special - and deserve special treatment - and a light hand. Shaved over Risotto Bianca (finished with marscapone and perhaps a raw egg yolk). Their fragrance and flavour is almost as indescribable as it mindblowingly delicous. Rich, earthy, garlicky with an almost toasted grain sweetness. And without trying to be creepy - sexy. The underlying flavors are honest and real - there is no contrivance or false luxury.

True, they are incredibly pricey, but that is neither here or there - in fact, I'm the kind of guy that prefers avoids expensive food for its own sake. But there are times when the price of admission is worth it.

I did not try my first fresh white truffle until I was almost 40 - and the lesson I learned was that no matter how jaded you think your palate is - there are always new flavors and experiences to savor. And if you are lucky - you get to share it with friends.