June 2009 Archives

When we arrived on the scene of our most recent public endeavor - an open-house reception and arts and crafts orgy at the historic Schindler House, where Hot Knives was given its own geodesic dome tent - we couldn't refrain from collective fascination at the diversity of the kitchens we've occupied over the last couple of years for catering gigs. Carpentry work rooms. Zen monasteries and kosher kitchens. Parking lots covered in astro turf. And now this.

The Schindler house actual kitchen was like a museum; we were terrified of staining, breaking or otherwise disfiguring the spotless and serene landscape of the past...Thankfully, we had prepared for a very low impact on-site execution. We prepped our platters of hors d'oevres and dished out pickled treats amidst the happenings of the day.

The focus you might remember was playing with fresh pickling as a way to tarten your farmers market goodies without having to wait 8 weeks to taste 'em. Here's a look at our lecture on "Fresh Pickles," widely well received by the artsy and the chic. Of course there were a few exceptions: some bored, drop-jawed design dudes, a few off-put seitan virgins, and one man who really had a hard time with the pickled daikon. (Which is totally fine!)

Thanks again to Fritz for the new theater, and to Jacinto Astiazarán for the hi-res documentation.

Up next: recipes for all our little funk-bombs: Pickled Daikon, Cucumbers, and Grapes.

Until we drank this beer, the words "extra high" had no special meaning really. At least as far as beer and beyond our extended gravity bong phase in college. But "extra high" is, in fact, what the gold foil letters "XH" on the label of this Hitachino Nest beer signifies. Oh yes.

That "extra" refers to both the 8 % alcohol packed into this sweet baby bottle and the big, woodsy grain-alcohol polish that has been imparted to it by aging the beer in the same old oak casks used to mature a distilled sake called Shocyu.

(Cue illuminating gong crash please...)

Having tried a couple of the Kuichi Brewery's other offerings -- those medium-strength Japanese beers decorated with fat red owls and tossed with fusion twists like ginger and red rice -- this brew stands out as a Belgian-style strong ale. We sipped XH on the porch one recent Sunday in the middle of stir-frying our dinner and immediately developed strong feelings for it. Golden like its reflective foil labeling, but with a slight hint of iodine-red, the beer itself is beautiful. Lifting a shorty glass, we caught hints of 5-spice rub...coriander and nutmeg for sure. What else... hops, malt, sake?

For all the "high" talk, the booze notes in this beer are fairly subtle -- not like a sake bomb -- save that for your Sapporo bombers. Instead, the sake-oak makes this beer taste almost like a sour Flemish red or a Geuze-esque wild ale. But more like the soft throat pucker that fresh lime gives a rice noodle soup, a background flavor that saves a broth form being tooooo oily. Or, in this case, too high.

Dairy Pairy: Rondin Des Brebis, a semi firm super funky sheep's milk cheese.
Soundtrack: T-Rex's "Get It On"

When local artmaker Fritz Haeg asked Hot Knives to be part of his upcoming book launch, we just figured we'd do our quasi-catering thang (which entails setting the bar low with the whole 'we're bloggers, not caterers' vibe and then bombing guests with insane food). Fritz had other ideas.

Known for throwing nutso art salons for years in his L.A. geodesic dome, Fritz has strong feelings about parties feeling spontaneous, not too planned, and more about DIY domesticity than any showy displays.

That basically ruled out just doing sneak attack appetizers with witty names.

Other ideas came and went -- what about a bahn mi bar, or garden-to-table cooking on site, or maybe even serve-your-own dessert cones with fresh melons instead of ice cream... but nothing felt right. (Not to mention, the art institute hosting the book launch needed a health permit approved and county health inspectors insisted on us bleaching the melons.)

We had to wrestle with a new quandary: how can food be art? And more importantly how could our eaters be engaged with the grub without letting health inspectors bleach our fruits.

So we seized on doing something experiential and process-based. Instructional, educational and open for discussion, without sucking the fun out of the cooking. We learned to pickle! Pickling was perfect because its domestic, it gives home cooks new crayons to play with, and there's plenty of lactic acid science facts to rattle off. Oh yeah, and we have enviable vinegar hook-ups.

Plus it gave us the excuse to dabble more in the dark arts of preservation, which we'd only flirted with before. Indeed, for the last month both our kitchens have been slippery with weird vinegars, funky from fermentation experiments and stocked full of giant daikon radishes. We learned a lot.

But before we give away the secret tips an proportions we found worked best, suffice it to say that the process took time. We chronicled the basics in the above video. In a few days, we'll let you know how the Hot Knives Pickle Lecture Series went over with the art types.

Breakfast for vegetarians can often become the perfect pipeline for the over-processed. Faux chorizo, soy turkey sausage, and other forms of soy-plastic sodium bombs. The joy of chewy mixed meat and snappy bacon was the first thing found by many of us non-hogs; to us this habit constantly requires breaking.

This week we turned a blind eye to Yves, Morningstar and the rest, and in the interest of a timely and hearty breakfast turned to nature's fake steak: The King Trumpet mushroom. Thanks to the produce buyers at our local Emporium of the East A-Market, there is literally a mountain of these holy horns on hand all the time. If you don't live in L.A. there's prolly a good chance that you can find these if you look thanks to these guys.

Served on silver platters for exhorbitant prices, this mushroom is the thing of chop houses and fine dining, but thanks to the growing influence of Golden Gourmet mushroom company, these earthen phalli can be yours for less than dry TVP. Serve up some of these seared mushrooms for brekky with farmers market, cruelty-free eggs and you'll not just get yourself 'down the road,' you'll find yourself well on your way to the next level.

1 King Trumpet mushroom
1 shallot
2 cloves garlic
2 fresh eggs
1 tsp. smoked salt
3 tsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. soy sauce

1. Slice off the bottom 1/2 inch off the King Trumpet. It's equivalent would be the woody stem at the base of an oyster mushroom (the King's close cousin). Now slice the mushroom into long fillets, about 1/2-3/4 inch thick. Rub with a little smoked salt and set aside.

2. Slice your garlic and shallots 1/4 centimeter thin.

3. Heat a medium-sized skillet (cast iron or non stick) on high heat for 3 minutes. Place the mushroom slices face down in the dry pan. After 2 minutes, flip the shrooms; they should have a nice tan by now and have begun to expel some of their water.

4. When you've colored both sides of each slice, drizzle in another teaspoon of olive oil to coat the "steaks." Add the shallots and garlic in the empty space around the mushroom and continue to cook; flipping the mushrooms every minute or two to make sure they cook evenly and do not burn. When the mushrooms have crisped around the edges and are quite firm to the touch, they are done. Add the soy sauce evenly and toss to coat, remove from heat.

5. Serve with a fried egg of your choice, toast, and Sriracha hot sauce.

Beverage: Cafecito Organico's BRazilian Peaberry
Soundtrack: "Air Talk" with Larry Mantle

The air was stale and hot, lines were long, and at one point we thought it might actually never end. Yes, there was a certain undeniable Hieronymus Bosch-like quality to the recent Craft Beer Fest L.A. that Hot Knives helped organize. But at least the beer was cold, right? And it flowed like wine.

Actually, the event was more than manageable -- it was a downright success. A baker's dozen of rad California breweries donated handcrafted ales, sours, porters, stouts and barleywines. Nearly one thousand people packed the floor to old timey bands. And all the grub was vegetarian, tasty and free...while it lasted.

But if there was a surplus of any one single commodity at last month's inaugural beer festival, it was hands-down the hot nuts at the Hot Knives' booth. Yep, just simple tree nuts roasted in fancy oils and spiked with punchy spices. We brought 90 pounds of 'em so we never ran out. Rosemary, olive oil and sea salt made the pecans a big hit. Vanilla-honey and fresh nutmeg turned the cashews into crack cocaine. But the real powerhouse of the event, was an improvised recipe for spicy smoked peanuts we stumbled on up while ransacking Alex's spice shelves. A touch of brown sugar, coarse salt, a kiss of cayenne, whollops of bright red Aleppo pepper and, crucially, smoked black pepper. We like to think it made plenty of people brave the line for that fifteenth beer.

See for yourself! Thanks to our cammy friends Helena, Amanda and Michelle who caught the fest on tape,

2 cups raw, shelled peanuts
1/4 cup peanut oil (canola is ok)
2 Tbs. Aleppo pepper
1 Tbs. smoked black pepper
1 Tbs. granulated brown sugar
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 Tbs. kosher salt

1. Put a deep wok or cast iron skillet on high heat for several minutes before adding your raw peanuts and peanut oil. (You could also use a wok on an outdoor grill for extra smokey-summer-funtime.)

2. Lower flame to medium heat and stir nuts vigorously every 30 seconds to keep from uneven blackening. Cook this way for about 5 minutes, or until peanuts show visible signs of browning.

3. While stirring add in the Aleppo and smoked black pepper. Hold off on the other spices and continue roasting for 3-4 more minutes. Try a peanut -- it should be slightly cooked but still chewy (they will get crunchier once cooled).

4. Remove nuts from heat and slide into a ceramic mixing bowl. Add the brown sugar, cayenne and salt. Real spice heads may want to add 1-2 teaspoons of your favorite hot sauce (any more will make your nuts damp and weird).

5. Serve with cold beer.

Beverage: Lagunita's Ruben and the Jets
Soundtrack: Triple Chicken Foot's "Old Plank Road"

This is undoubtedly the only recipe we have ever developed with a church potluck in mind.

Our favorite local brewer, Mark Jilg, the mad man (in a good way) behind Craftsman Brewing in Pasadena was hosting the annual fundraiser for his mom's Unitarian Church congregation at his brewery. He said he needed something for the old people to bite on so they didn't get shit-faced. Flattered and giddy that whatever we dreamed up would be taken between glugs of Heavenly Hefe, Poppyfields -- maybe Triple White Sage if we were lucky -- and the just completed O'Stout, which Mark brews with oyster shells.

In the end we settled on still-warm loaves of crusty ciabatta, citrus zest and coriander seed hummus, French feta marinated in olive oil and radishes dipped in truffle sea salt and butter. But perhaps the shining moment was thinking of the church ladies scooping up this thick vegan cream of white beans pureed with a base of sage-almond stuffing.

Next time we plan on whipping it up with wild white sage from the San Gabriel foothills, the way Mark does for his seasonal white sage release. Besides cleaning a room of evil spirits and reducing swelling, turns out the native plant tastes bad-ass. For the meantime, green'll work just fine.

8 cloves garlic
2 cups extra virgin olive oil
1 cup almonds
1 white onion, chopped
1/2 cup fresh sage leaves
4 cans (15 oz) cannellini beans
1 Tbs. white balsamic
1 tsp. sumac
Fresh black pepper and salt to taste
6-8 sage leaves for garnish
1 cup Grapeseed oil for frying

1. Start by making garlic confit: Peel all the garlic and place the cloves in a small saucepot with 1 cup of the olive oil (submerging them). Place on medium heat. Let the oil heat to a rolling sizzle and then remove and rest it. Set aside and it will finish cooking as it cools.

2. Next prepare the "stuffing." Roughly crush the almonds with a chef's knife or a mallet. Place a large sauté pan on high heat and add a touch of olive oil. Then add the almonds and chopped onion. Turn down to medium.

3. Toss or stir the mixture every minute and toast for about 5 minutes. Meanwhile, roughly chop the sage leaves and toss in. Continue toasting for another 3 minutes, or until almonds are mostly toasted. Set aside.

4. Empty your beans into a strainer and thoroughly rinse them.

5. Most likely you'll need to blend the mixture in two batches, divvy up half the beans and add to a food processor. Toss in half the stuffing mixture, season with half the sumac and half the balsamic, as well as salt and pepper to taste.

6. Puree vigorously adding a slow drizzle of the garlic confit and olive oil. Only use half. Now keep blending and add 1/4 cup water. The mixture should be thick and creamy but loose enough to thoroughly move about the blender. If it appears too gunky, add more water until its spreadable.

7. Use a spatula to empty puree into a large mixing bowl. Repeat the blending steps with second half of the ingredients. And combine both batches.

8. Finally, prepare a quick garnish of flash fried sage leaves by bringing a small saucepan of Grapeseed oil up to high heat for at least 5 minutes. Wash and thoroughly pat dry the sage leaves. Prepare a plate with a paper towel and a slotted spoon. Drop leaves into hot oil and wait just 10 seconds before fishing them out. Rest to dry.

9. Add leaves in pretty arrangement with another splash of olive oil. Serve bean puree as a dip with torn chunks of fresh baked ciabatta. Or serve as composed bruschetta plate or even as a dip with crackers.

Beverage: Craftsman's Triple White Sage
Soundtrack: Animal Collective's "For Reverend Green"