my life as a foodie

Not a single bead of sweat managed to trickle down my face, instead pooling high atop my head. My ears were ringing, a had surges of tingling pain that came in waves maybe 45 seconds apart. For as delicious as the food was, the heat was unmistakable. But none of this mattered, because it truly didn’t hit me until I stood up.  It was then that I knew I was in trouble.

In this episode, I share the story of the hottest meal I have ever eaten. My years of idolizing the Habanero pepper as the king of “Hell on Earth” are now over. From here on out, it’s all about the Bhut Jolokia (aka Ghost Pepper). And I doubt there will ever be a Thai restaurant that will manage to match the flavors and perfection that Chef Tui at Jitlada Restaurant brought to the table for us.

Things are much different now.

In this episode:
• Le Merle Saison from North Coast Brewing
• Odonata Beer’s first release makes RateBeer’s Top 100
• Burger King and Bud/Miller/Coors finally in bed together
• Eat It Before It Eats You – Shark with drunken caper sauce
• The hottest thing I’ve ever eaten, courtesy of Jitlada in LA
• elBulli closing in 2012
• “The Future of Food” documentary (watch it online)
• Local pride and the food mecca that is California
• Mail Box

Music in this episode from Sick Puppies. Download “You’re Going Down” from the iTunes store or directly from their web site www.sickpuppies.net

Read more about Jitlada at Jo’s blog My Last Bite.

NOTE: So, Jo corrected me on something today. Chef Tui is actually Jazz’s brother. I had no idea. What a brother and sister combo – restaurateur and master chef. Someone clone these Thai genes, stat! Gourmet Magazine even ran a piece on them, some time ago. Proving, yet again, why we need it back.

A cold slice of crispy, fresh garden lettuce, a chilled chalet of grassy, spicy IPA, a few miniature pickles thrown on the plate — all an accompaniment to the main event: meat and skin from pigs feet set in its own jelly.

It has many names – Brawn, Head Cheese, Farmhouse Brawn, or Fromage de Tête. I prefer the latter.

There are a number of reasons why I titled this post the way I did. For one thing, Fromage de Tête sounds – I don’t know . . . much classier than “Head Cheese.” Everything sounds nicer in French to begin with. Add to that, the words “Head” and “Cheese” seem downright loutish when put together.

The real reason, however, is that I failed a little in collecting all of my ingredients. The one key ingredient to the dish, the one thing that gives the dish its name (that would be the head) never made it home.

When I decided to make this dish, the first thing that I knew would present a challenge was acquiring the head of a pig. This isn’t something you just walk into a grocery store and buy. You have to go to the right place, and they’re rarely that easy to find. Add to that my preference to sourcing ingredients like this from someone I know, and it gets a little harder. I didn’t really know too many butchers who did the whole hog. That problem was solved by a simple phone call. My wife called her friend, whose uncle René owned a Carnicaria (Spanish for ‘meat market’), who had fresh pigs delivered each day that he butchers in the morning.

Problem solved, right? Yeah, not so much.

A call to her uncle René presented one unexpected problem – the heads on the pigs he’d received the previous day were (as he put it) humongous. Now, this guy butchers pigs on a daily basis. If he says the heads are humongous, they must be pretty big. But, having read a few recipes for Brawn, including the one that gave me this idea in the first place – Fergus Henderson’s “The Whole Beast” I noticed most called for the addition of pig’s feet. Why not try making this with the feet, and nothing but the feet?

When I arrived at René’s Carnicaria, I was swept into the butcher room in the back of the restaurant where he and his staff were butchering whole hogs. Nice operation, lots of split open whole pigs on stainless steel tables — these guys were butchering pigs back here. And yes those heads were massive. It was a good idea skipping on something I literally had no cooking vessel to prepare it in. René had cleaned and prepped four really nicely sized feet for me that I knew would be perfect.

So to start — 4 whole pigs feet. René was so thorough at what he does, he even split them for me. This would make it easier for the disassembly that came later.

Place the feet in a large pot, then cover with the following:

4 Shallots
1 large Leek, chunked
couple sprigs of fresh parsley
sprig of fresh rosemary
sprig of fresh thyme
10 Black peppercorns
2 Cloves fresh garlic
4 whole Cloves
1 tablespoon Salt
1 large Onion, chunked
2 Bay leaves
2 Carrots, chunked

Well, that was difficult. Here’s where it got tricky. I had to fill the pot with water, just to cover everything.

OK, maybe that wasn’t that hard after all. I turned on the heat, brought the whole thing to a boil, then reduced the heat to low and simmered for close to three hours until the skin and meat were literally falling off the bones. Every 15 minutes, I’d lift the cover off the pot and skim the protein scum off the top with a hand strainer. This step is important as it helps keep the stock as clear as possible.

I turned off the heat and allowed the pot to cool for a bit. This one lone pig’s foot floated to the surface. I took it as a sign that he was ready to leave the hot tub.

Now it was time to do some surgery. I removed the feet from the broth, being careful to leave any peppercorns and herbs behind.

Delicious. Am I right?

I removed the meat, skin and fat from the bones, separating as I went. I minced the meat and skin into very small pieces and placed them in a large bowl.

The bones ended up in another pile. They say a human foot has anywhere from 26 to 28 bones. I was hoping the pig’s foot wouldn’t be anywhere near this, but I wasn’t so lucky.

Now that’s a pile of bones.

Next, I strained the vegetables and herbs from the broth with a strainer.

Here’s a critical step. Taste your broth. Seriously, taste it. It should still be warm, so grab a spoon and give it a taste. How is it? It had better be seasoned well enough, because this is how the “head cheese” is going to taste. If you feel you need more salt at this point, it’s best to add it now.

Next, I lined the pan I was using for the mold with plastic wrap. I made sure to be liberal with the wrap, so there was plenty hanging over the edges. I wanted to ensure that the finished mold would be easy to remove from the pan after it had set.

Then, in went some of the broth, followed by a couple scoopfuls of the meat and skin, followed by more broth, followed by more meat and skin.

When the mold was full, I covered it with the over-lapping plastic wrap, slammed it against the counter a few times to knock loose any air bubbles, and slid it into the refrigerator.

I allowed it to set for a full 24 hours before pulling it out and slicing it. I was amazed at how gelatinized this was. These ingredients made their own aspic, their own gelatin. And it set up as firm as a meat loaf, making slicing it a breeze.

I served it on a lettuce leaf with a few cornichons on the side. Cornichons are mini French pickles, and they go well with sandwiches or on their own.

The “foot cheese” was just what I’d hoped it would be. The texture – fun, firm, easy to bite into. The flavor was that of pork, rich with the aromatics from the broth, and a slight hint of the cloves. In fact, had I not added them myself, I would have had to guess what that flavor was. It had a great balance of flavors, and I was really happy this turned out as well as it did. Very filling, however. So take note.

How much better would this taste had I actually picked up a pig’s head I could fit into a pot? Probably a lot porkier, richer in flavor, and perhaps even more gelatinized than it was. Some day, I’ll do it again and let you know how it turns out. For now, I’m content having made something this cool, this easy, and this fun.

I continue to be inspired by the magic and science behind cooking, and I’m happy to close another chapter in my life as a foodie.

Where does your food come from?  Do you know, really?  There are still so many people in the dark about this.  When you speak of slaughterhouses, kill plants, the real truth behind the food we eat, they turn their heads.  They don’t want the truth, it seems.

I often wonder if they think that we have farms where giant pork chops run around, waiting to be caught and served for dinner.  What about the special Chicken McNugget bird?  You know, that miniature boneless creature that provides so many tasty deep fried sandwiches — that animal is my favorite.

In this episode, we’re joined by Bobby Bognar, host of “Food Tech” a new show that uncovers the mystery behind the food we eat every day.  It debuts this Thursday on The History Channel, and I’d like you all to join me in watching it, and support our new friend.  Bobby calls in to share his experiences filming the shows first season, some of the incredible things he learned while on the road for 9 months, and says there is relatively good news about some of the food produced on large commercial farms.  We’re all in for a learning experience.

Listen to episode 52 now

In this episode:
• Trader Joes Vintage Ale and a 5-year vertical pairing dinner
• Bobby Bognar calls in to discuss “Food Tech”
• The McDonalds outburst and how future episodes can be avoided
• How safe is Genetically Modified Corn?
• Smuggling sausage on an airplane – a thing of the past?
• Bourdain returns for Season 6 of No Reservations
• In The Kitchen: Leek, Gorgonzola & Bacon Custard

Don’t forget to check out Bobby’s new show Food Tech, Thursdays on The History Channel.  Also, check out Bobby’s band The Piper Downs. Music in this episode from The Veer Union.  Buy the song in the iTunes store.

I don’t know how you got your year started, but I started mine off with a real bang.  A simple new years dinner with Peter & Jo at Bouchon in Beverly Hills — sounds simple enough.  Except whenever Jo’s involved, unexpected things happen.  Like meeting Chef Thomas Keller, in his kitchen, right in the middle of service.

Listen to episode 51 now

In this episode:
• Momofuku by David Chang – more than just a cookbook
• Jo’s insightful post on the dangers of first impressions
• The Cove – an incredible documentary about dolphins and dangerous mercury levels in fish
• Anchor Steam’s 2009 Our Special Ale (see note below)
• Eating at Bouchon and meeting Thomas Keller
• Making Bouchon’s Puree de Pommes de Terre
• I ate a seal and I liked it
• Antibiotics in livestock is a big bad wolf knocking at our door
• Ammonia-washed beef — mmmm mmmm . . . delicious
• Poulet Rouge Chickens

Music in this episode from Smile Empty Soul.  Buy their song in the iTunes Store.

Special thanks to The Onion and CNN for the additional audio.

Bouchon Bistro
235 N Canon Dr
Beverly Hills, CA 90210
(310) 271-9910  [map]

UPDATE: Thanks to Jim for correcting me on Anchor’s “Our Special Ale.” I said in the podcast that I thought they’d been making this beer since the late 80’s.  It’s actually been around since 1975! Check out the label archive.

Share this Post

This is not a restaurant review.  It’s not even close.

In fact, if I were a restaurant critic being paid to write a review, what I’m about to write would most likely get me fired. The fact of the matter is, I think that critiquing restaurants is something best left to professionals.

Last weekend, Katrina and I finally had our opportunity to taste the newly designed entrees Chef Ludo Lefebvre offered at his third pop-up installation – this time at Royal/T in Culver City. His stint at Royal/T now behind him, Ludo is likely enjoying a hard-earned holiday away from the frantic pace that he held for three straight weeks.

Where Ludo’s previous venue Bread Bar was just a restaurant, Royal/T is actually a restaurant inside of an art gallery, so you can enjoy your meal surrounded by modern art – paintings, sculptures, mixed media, photography. I found this appropriate, given Chef Ludo’s style.  And rather than  give a review of the food and the meal, I’d like to simply share my experience and perhaps give my thoughts on Ludo’s culinary vision.

I’m not a critic. I’m just a guy with a blog. I know my way around the kitchen, and can prepare some very good meals myself. But I’m not a chef. And I’m amazed to find that many restaurant critics on the web not only don’t cook on a regular basis – some have not cooked a single meal in their lives. Spending most every evening eating at various restaurants does not make you qualified to be a culinary analyst. It makes you an eater – nothing more. Some education is in order, and perhaps that education starts in the kitchen.

This doesn’t just start or stop at restaurants. It affects every type of business that provides a service. The question is how did we get to this point? The answer is very simple; We’ve become a nation of critics. Think about it: American Idol, Top Chef, Project Runway, So You Think You Can Dance – those are only a handful of shows on television that attract millions of Americans every night to watch people with actual talent putting it all on the line to be judged on television. And as such, we have become part of that process.  We’ve become so fixated on this that it’s seeping its way into almost every aspect of our lives.

The reviews of Ludo’s recent pop-up by food bloggers all over Southern California have been mostly positive, and it’s been reviewed more times than I care to count. Ludo’s web site has links to a lot of them, if you’re interested in reading what others who have experienced Ludo’s food have to say.

Given my unqualified opinion to rate restaurants, and my disinterest in doing so, I’d like to instead tell you what it was like to taste Ludo’s food, imagine his vision, and appreciate the strokes of a modern-day culinary artist. It seemed so appropriate to me that we were eating this food in the middle of an art gallery. Ludo is an artist himself. His paintings adorn the walls of the gallery, just as they did the walls of The Bread Bar, where his previous pop-up occurred.

I didn’t take pictures of the food, as so many food bloggers have already. There isn’t a picture I would have taken that hasn’t already appeared somewhere. If you’d like to see what the dishes looked like, feel free to read any of the many reviews available online. The pictures are all well-lit, thanks to a special staging area set up for food bloggers by Ludo’s wife Krissy – complete with a soft box and studio lighting.  It wasn’t that I was being lazy or disinterested.  I treated this visit to Ludo Bites as I would an art exhibit. I wouldn’t shoot pictures there either.

Ludo is an artist.  Yes he’s a chef but, most importantly to me, he’s an artist.  And in my perspective, his food is his art. When you visit Ludo, it’s not like sitting down for a meal of nourishment. Sure, you get that too. But it’s more sustenance for your soul, for your mind, for your inner child. His food is playful, fun, inspiring. No plate of Ludo’s food is laid in front of you without some kind of message behind it. Everything on the plate has a purpose. Nothing happens by accident.

Ludo loves playing with ingredients and processes. He doesn’t make mint chocolate chip ice cream. He makes ice cream tasting of sushi rice, mustard, or ginger. He doesn’t just serve fois gras. He serves it stuffed into a beignet with a puree of apricots.

The last time I had fois gras from Ludo, it was in a terrine – served in the form of a grilled cheese sandwich, except that the bread was infused with squid ink.  He takes a different approach to food. It’s an approach many find off-putting. And while I hate hearing the words “You just don’t get it,” perhaps some people just don’t.

A description of one of Ludo’s entrees may elicit the words “What the hell is he thinking?”  But once you’ve eaten that dish, you may very well say “What the hell was I thinking?” As is the case with many of the dishes Ludo presents you with, everything comes into view once you savor that first bite. In the beginning, I was challenged by Ludo’s food. I now find it inspiring.  He inspires me with his food and provides the one thing that is hard to come by these days, especially in restaurants – perspective.

Here are a few of the dishes we enjoyed last Sunday from Chef Ludo:

• Tuna sashimi with sushi rice ice cream, soy sauce gelee, and smoked ginger
• Celery Root Soup with Black Truffles and Parmesan
• Egg Meurette with Red Cabbage and Lardo
• Fois Gras Beignet with Saffron and dried apricots
• Fried Chicken with Polenta, grilled baby corn, and mole
• Pork Belly Confit
• Chocolate Mousse with Jalapeno

If Ludo’s ahi sashimi with sushi rice ice cream and soy sauce gellee was Mount Kilimanjaro, his fried chicken was Everest. It was a master stroke of technique and planning. The chicken was completely deboned and brined for 48 hours, before being deep fried to a crispy outer layer that would make Colonel Sanders throw in the towel. And where you might expect fried chicken and gravy, you’re served creamy polenta and a mole that had enough spice to lift you right out of your pants.

It’s fun not knowing what to expect.  It’s absolute magic when you watch everyone at the table grinning while they chew.  This is the beauty of Ludo’s brush strokes.

At one point in the evening, I said to Katrina “With his mastery of technique and playful ingredients, I would love to taste a classic dish like Cassoulet or Coq au Vin from Ludo.” She turned to me and said “Do you think he may be beyond that?”  I thought about it, and yes I do. That’s certainly not to say that I think Ludo feels above the French classics – he’s a classically trained French chef.  He’s simply taken his craft far beyond the standards. He can probably do those dishes as well, or better, than most French chefs. But he’s more interested in putting his own stamp on modern day cuisine. This would be like asking Eddie Van Halen to play “Louie Louie” or requesting that Stephen King write a romance novel.  Sure, they could probably do it – but why the hell would they?

When I read a critic pick apart one single dish of Ludo’s, or an element on the dish that didn’t work for them, it’s akin to reading someone write that a painting didn’t work for them because the artist used yellow in the sky instead of blue.  Or perhaps the brush strokes seemed too harsh for the composition of the piece.  Would these same people go to a gallery showing and write that one or two paintings ruined the whole experience for them?

Doubtful.  Even if they did, it would be criminal if you considered that these same critics had no formal art training. Put into the perspective of this article – Ludo the chef and Ludo the artist, it should be clear where I’m going with this.  If it didn’t work for someone, they simply didn’t see his vision.

No one ever took a shot at Ansel Adams by saying he needed to branch out by shooting more human interest photographs. The man shot pictures of mountains and rocks.  He did that, and he did that well.  And while Picasso was often criticized by drawing almost grotesque facial expressions, no one doubted the man’s mastery and importance to his craft.  I would certainly hope that people can see the similarities between artists like these, and an artist like Ludo.

Heston Blumenthal wrote in The Fat Duck Cookbook that, upon opening his restaurant, many of his customers complained about not getting the standard dishes they expected, about the food not being hot enough, or not cooked as they wished it had been. If you know much about Blumenthal and his restaurant The Fat Duck, he’s not much unlike Chef Ludo. His food is challenging, out there. Blumenthal is well aware of this. And he hoped that he’d gradually lose the people who would always be resistant to this style of cooking, and that there would be enough adventurous diners to make his place work.

Eventually, there were. And it did work. So much so, that The Fat Duck is consistently ranked the #2 restaurant in the world, having held the #1 spot in 2005.  And should the day come that Chef Ludo opens his own establishment, this same path is almost certain.

Ludo is not a conventional chef. He does not serve conventional dishes to his customers. Therefore, it would be short sighted to analyze his food in a conventional way. To do so would be missing the point entirely.

Share this Post

I never understood why we always ate fish on Christmas Eve when I was growing up. In fact, I think I didn’t even realize the monotony of it until I was twelve.  Never questioned it either.  I just ate my yearly Christmas Eve tuna casserole with a humble side of STFU.

It turns out that it was an Italian tradition. And apparently Jesus was a vegetarian.  Who knew?

In an Italian or Sicilian house, you never eat meat on Christmas Eve out of respect for the birth of baby Jesus.  I didn’t get these important details until much later, as I spent the latter part of my life spending Christmas Eve feasting on an array of animal flesh — roasted chickens, steaks, and pork roasts.  No disrespect to the birthday boy intended, of course. Had I known, lobster and crab would have been on the menu for certain.

In this episode, Greg Cain from finelobster.com returns to the show to share some of the traditions of a New England Christmas, and answers all of the questions about lobster I didn’t get a chance to pester him with the last time we had him on.

Listen to episode 50 now

Looking for a last minute gift idea that will blow the roof off the place?  Why not treat someone you love to a live Maine lobster, delivered right to their door. And if you’re worried about freaking the family out by having a live sea creature delivered to their house in a box, there’s always frozen lobster tails, crab cakes, lobster bisque, or a gift card.  Of course, Greg has a holiday special offer that will certainly get you in the holiday spirit.  Listen to the show (or read below) to find out more.

In this episode:
• Tuna Casserole – a Christmas Eve tradition I never knew about until it was too late
• Fishing along the California coast may soon be a thing of the past
• Avery Brewing’s Sui Generis Barrel-aged Sour Ale (courtesy of Rick from Big Foamy Head)
• Anthony Bourdain’s new book “Medium Raw” hits bookstores June 8th
• Greg Cain from finelobster.com visits
• How to make your own lobster bisque
• Top Chef Quickfire Challenge Cookbook review
• A year-end send off: Clip collage from My Life as a Foodie 2009

Music in this episode by Nickelback.  Buy the song in the iTunes store. Additional music by Michael Giacchino.

SPECIAL HOLIDAY OFFER:
Orders from finelobster.com totaling $100 or more qualify for FREE 2-day shipping.  Order $125 or more and they’ll throw in two FREE lobster tails!  Who the hell is going to say NO to that?  Enter the coupon code FREELOBSTER at checkout and enjoy a nice lobster feast courtesy of Fine Lobster.

Happy Holidays!  See you in 2010 – harder and stronger.  Be safe out there, kids.

Share this Post

I had my first taste of duck when I was 14.  A friends father had returned from a successful hunting trip just a week before and they were hosting a big duck feast with family and friends.  I think it was baked – I can’t remember.  I only recall that it was perhaps the juiciest piece of dark poultry flesh I’d ever eaten, and every single one of my mother’s theories about why we never ate it (it was too greasy, it was too gamy, etc.) were whisked away with that first bite.

In this episode, I’ll show you just how easy it is to make one of the most popular of all classic French Bistro entreés — duck confit. Courtesy of Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles Cookbook, I’ll explain that with a simple handful of ingredients, a few duck legs, some patience, and basic cooking technique, you can prepare duck in the most tender way possible.  Because – and let’s face it – anytime you’re cooking and storing something buried in its own fat, there’s no way things can possibly go wrong.

Listen to episode 49 now

In this episode:
• Why was Tiger Woods forced to air out his dirty laundry to everyone?
• Dogfish Head Chicory Stout
• Dan Patrick proves why America’s general perception of beer (and food) is all wrong
• Rick Sellers’ well documented piece on the Northern California Duck Off
• Preparing Duck Confit
• Paula Deen gets hit in the face with a big salty hunk of karma
• Chef Ludo is back, and better than ever – all month long at Royal/T
• Top Chef Season 6 Pre-Finale Recap

Music in this episode from Saliva.  Buy the song in the iTunes Store.

Purchase Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles Cookbook from Amazon.com – it’s the perfect holiday gift for your chef spouse.  Or hell, just get it for yourself.  You know you can’t live without it.

Share this Post

I’ve never understood why we only choose the fourth Thursday of every November to gather with our families, make food the center focus of the day, and give thanks for the wonderful things in our lives.  Why can’t every day be Thanksgiving?  Isn’t it time we take time out of every day to focus on enjoying our family, sharing a great meal, and talking to one another?

In this week’s episode, we visit the home of my good friend Afaf, who was born and raised in Syria.  As you’ll hear in our conversation, a day that resembles our Thanksgiving happens every day in Syria. At around 2:00 PM, the city shuts down, everyone returns home, and the family enjoys a big meal.  They spend two hours eating, talking, laughing, singing, praying, whatever.  The bottom line is, they stop everything to enjoy the things in their lives that matter to them the most. The only thing missing is watching the Lions get their asses handed to them in front of a national audience.  But who’d miss that?

Listen to episode 48 now

Afaf shares her history in Syrian cooking, how she was brought up to cook the smaller dishes as her mother focused on the main meal.  And as she settled into living in America, she began to miss the food of her home country. This prompted her to explore the idea of obtaining fresh ingredients, spending the countless hours (and sometimes days) it takes to make some of these intricate dishes.

More than anything, Afaf shares the ideologies behind Syrian culture, and why food is so important to them.

Later, we enter Afaf’s kitchen, where she shows me how to make Kebbeh, both baked and fried.  Believe me, it sounds easy and even looks easy, but that’s the magic of Afaf’s abilities in the kitchen.  It’s an involved process, and the results are beyond delicious.

Check out Afaf’s pictures on making Kebbeh here. If you’d like to try making Kebbeh at home, get the recipe and illustrated directions on Afaf’s web site.

Thanks for listening, and have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Share this Post

[In a continuing series of firsts for My Life as a Foodie, we have our first guest blogger. Thanks to Rick Sellers from Pacific Brew News for bringing this incredible story to us, and his fantastic pictures of an event that further proves that I live in the wrong part of California. I am honored to have one of my favorite wordsmiths sharing his storytelling talent on my blog.]

There’s a clear disconnect in our society and its relationship with food, I don’t think this is a news flash for the readers of My Life as a Foodie. Since the industrialization of food in America, we’ve witnessed a growing chasm between the fork and the field. It’s sad, when you think of it, that some of our modern heroes are people like Tony Bourdain, Jamie Oliver and Michael Polan; people that buck the system and eat the way we used to 70 years ago. It’s almost appalling, actually, that an entire generation of people can’t even cook their own food, let alone grow it, kill it, clean it and prepare it. Still, given the alternative, it’s obvious we need icons like these, people to help remind us who we used to be.

In Northern California we have a food hero of our own. He’s not a boisterous man with catch phrases or a TV show. In the food world, some might have said he’s just a food blogger, one of hundreds or thousands. We know, however, that this isn’t true. In 2009 Hank Shaw was nominated for the prestigious James Beard Award for food writing, as an amateur! His secret? Well, he’s sorta found a way to connect with the world around him. He hunts, loves to fish, gardens and forages the countryside for foods we’ve all but forgot about. He’s the Hunter, Angler, Gardner, Cook – incidentally the name of his blog.

Since his nomination Hank’s status around Sacramento has surged. Given his newfound celebrity status, I guess it was inevitable that his food prowess would be capitalized by someone local, someone who shares passions for local and sustainable food. Enter Chef Michael Tuohy of Grange Restaurant in downtown Sacramento. “The Grange” is quick to tout the use of local ingredients in their kitchen, but it isn’t till you ask that you learn they also bring in whole animals (pigs, goats) grown locally to be butchered on site, making sure to utilize the whole beast.

With their common food interests, it seemed only natural that Tuohy and Shaw would team up – and team up they did! On November 12th the duo hosted The Great Duck Off, a competition-styled event where each would put out dishes for judging – much like you’d see on Iron Chef – with one common ingredient, wild duck shot locally by Hank.

Now, there’s something to the Duck Off that need to be explained. First, the judges were given samples of the wild duck, the public was served free-range duck grown locally. Second, the judges weren’t just friends and parents of the cooks, they included Darrell “I sell groceries” Corti (owner of Corti Bros), Sacramento Bee’s Food and Wine editor Rick Kushman and writer Niesha Lofing and California Waterfowl Association president Bob McLandress.

Easily, the most impressive name on the list of judges for me is Mr. Corti, the man is known the world over for his palate and passion for food, evidenced in every aisle of his store. When the judges spoke, they all carried weight, but the room seemed most captivated by the words that fell out of Darrell’s mouth.

It should be noted, getting slightly ahead of myself, that Corti had significant praise for the dishes put out by Hank Shaw, the challenger in this event. I can’t claim to know Hank more than his online persona, but I’m guessing Corti’s praise made his day.

The Event

Both chefs showed up for competition at 7:00am to begin the day-long preparation. By the time I arrived at 2:30 in the afternoon they were wrapping up the heavy lifting in the downstairs kitchen and moving the day’s work upstairs in the exhibition kitchen. Moments before I met Chefs Tuohy and Shaw, the unthinkable happened – the large wheeled cart that was carrying the labors of the day collapsed.

I wasn’t there, don’t have any details beyond that, but let’s just say the first face-to-face introduction with both chefs was understandably short. Each made quick order of trying to get back on schedule for their deadline with the judges, a more challenging task for Hank who was trying to familiarize himself with the new surroundings.

I must admit, watching the chefs working side by side, back to back, it didn’t come across as a competition. While Hank’s been out of the pro-kitchen surroundings for years, the two seemed to work in harmony, staying out of each other’s way (more than I did) and communicating effectively when needed. Still, regardless of the level of competition felt, this would have made for great television. Chefs mentally tracking time as they season, sear, chop and plate – always cognizant of the time and seeming more at ease with each passing minute.

For the first plating the judges reviewed, both chefs offered a selection of small bites. Hank Shaw’s plates featured something he called The Way to a Duck’s Heart is Through His Stomach:

• hand-cut duck sausage stuffed in a snow goose’s neck
• confit of gizzards with sautéed chanterelle mushrooms
• duck heart tartare

Chef Tuohy’s presentation was called Duck Liver Three Ways:

• crispy polenta fried with duck fat mayonnaise
• creamy duck liver mousse with pickled French prune
• grilled on a rosemary skewer with fig-balsamic preserve

To be frank, I believe a couple of the judges had some textural issues with the meats in front of them. Had nothing to do with the chefs, but perhaps a psychological aversion to such rich and savory items – stemming back to days of youth. Still, the judges made a good face of it and did the work they were charged to do. Corti’s words on the dish clearly carried the most weight, and it was clear that he was pleased. Unfortunately for the chefs, it was clear they had to be on to the next course before hearing the commentary. For those in the crowd, this is what we were here for – and how I wish there’d been a video camera running.

The second courses didn’t have the visual appeal of the first, but I believe were even more interesting for the palate.

Hank’s plate? Duck Sugo
• Served over handmade barley pappardelle made with duck eggs

Chef Tuohy: Warm Duck Rillette
• Fuyu persimmon & pomegranate salad

I can’t claim to have tried all (or even most) of the dishes presented to the judges, but I did have some of the duck-pasta made by Hank – it was my favorite dish. Not that this carries any weight, just thought I’d share.

The final course for the judges was a seductive offering, the aromas and visual impressions were absolutely incredible.

Hank’s Plate:

Ducks in the Orchard
• seared mallard breast with apples that were cooked in duck fat, served with reduced cider, mint and a little chile

Chef Tuohy:

Pan Roasted Duck Breast
• celery root & parsnip puree, roasted porcini & matsutake mushrooms and black truffle sauce

If you haven’t figured out yet, this was a pretty spectacular event.

The Results

At the end of the day the votes had to be cast and a winner announced. While the judges sided with Chef Touhy, Darrell Corti said the competition was a draw and said his favorite dish of the day was Shaw’s confit was the dish of the day. What’s more, all judges agreed that Hank’s Duck in the Orchard plate was their second favorite dish – how can you complain about that? I truly hope that this is just the first of an annual friendly competition between these two culinary talents. Not only is it fun to be around, I believe it’s good for Sacramento foodies and the public overall.

You see, at the end of the day the event was covered by the local news outlets (TV and print) and the message of eating local and sustainable was put out, even if only in small doses. If only a handful of people who saw the event in the news thought twice about where their food came from, it wouldn’t matter who won or how much publicity was garnered – it would have been worth the effort.

For those lucky enough to attend the public dinner that followed, there’s little doubt the labor and time involved was worth it – the meal was a knock-out! Five course of duck in all its glory. Thanks to Hank and Michael, as well as the staff at Grange Restaurant. Additionally, congratulations to both chefs.

Share this Post

To honor today’s release of the new book “Love at the Pub,” we have an added bonus to episode 47 – a special interview with the books author Mary Jane Mahan. She loves craft beer with a passion, and it shows.

Listen to the interview now

Mary Jane shares her passion for the Brick Store Pub, the community atmosphere that surrounds it, and her love for all things craft beer.  Rated #2 in the country by Beer Advocate, the pub is the foundation of the people who make up the community of Decatur, Georgia. It’s a pillar of strength for anyone who advocates good beer, good food, and a place where you can hang your  hat and feel at home.

Buy “Love at the Pub” on Amazon.com or directly from the books web site www.loveathepub.com. 10% of Love at the Pub profits will be donated to SkaterAid, a youth skate and music event that benefits families dealing with pediatric cancer.

Also, don’t forget to check out the one-of-a-kind true vision of the perfect American pub at www.brickstorepub.com

Happy Veterans Day, troops!  Thank you for all you’ve done, all that you do, and all that you will continue to do to make us safe.