Our friend Aubrey White, aka Bobby Beers, aka Cheddah, has a degree in community planning and a master gardener trowel. So we were surprised but less than shocked when she broached a new venture idea last year over cold pints: Should she invest as a stakeholder in a small organic farm? She got a lot of back slaps, high-fives and “duhs” but in the harsh light of morning it obviously would be a tougher call. Bobby bucked up, and she bought the farm … not that way.

Cloverleaf Farms is a 4.5-acre orchard of peaches, nectarines, apricots and figs with a 1.5-acre plot of roots, fruits and vegetables. It got its start with two founders in 2011 through the help of an organization called Farmlink that matches landowners with land seekers. Since then, there have been pests and poor yields and tough math. But so far so good. We can say that firsthand: On the first real hot spell of the summer, Evan hit Cloverleaf Farms armed with a cellphone, dumb questions and a floppy hat. Afterward, he asked Aubrey (blogger at Smart Farm) to tell us all bout the life of a part-time farmer…

HK: Tell us a little bit about the farmers behind Cloverleaf.
Aubrey: We are now four ladies strong with enough work for at least twice as many of us to accomplish. We all work close to full-time jobs alongside the farm, so our days are full and weekends busy. We’re outside Davis, CA, a university town overflowing with foodies and interest in local food. And we’re in good company. I know of at least eight other farms in the area starting up.

HK: We’ve heard a lot in recent years about college and graduate students deciding against office jobs and in favor of small-scale agriculture. What made you buy into a farm?
Aubrey: I think people move towards farming for a lot of reasons, and sometimes I think that it’s a matter of the sum being greater than the parts. I’m attracted to the physical work. Really, I like to lift heavy shit. And I’d rather my back be tired than my eyes. But more than that, a farm is a puzzle. You have to be part soil scientist, part carpenter, part salesman. I think the challenge of creating that kind of project, with an end result that makes people insanely happy (peaches, please) is compelling and rewarding for people. Too, it is exciting to find your own little place in the food system.

HK: On top of managing the farm, you guys run a CSA serving a few dozen families. What’s the business model?
Aubrey: Literally dozens! The CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) model is a popular one, which is mostly functioning. Community members sign up at the beginning of the season and pay for their produce in advance. Each week, we harvest like mad men and prepare lovely little boxes of food that customers pick up. For the farm, it means upfront cash at a time of year when you’re putting a lot of money into the season. For the customer, it means a box of surprises each week (and hopefully encourages some adventurous cooking). But for us the CSA also means customers essentially own a share of the farm, and acknowledge that their share may change in value depending on our success. For us, we had a few crop failures at the beginning of the season, so sometimes boxes were a bit slim. But if everyone understands the model and supports it, then we still have a customer base that knows we’re doing our damndest to grow tasty tomatoes and melons.

HK: How has the first year gone, what have been your biggest successes and obstacles?
Aubrey: Oh my god it’s so hard. That’s the thing you hear from farmers, right? We like to let everyone know how hard it is. This year was all about setting up systems that make our farm a functioning business. And navigating those new systems has sometimes impossible sometimes. Sure you can grow the food, but can you sell it? Yes, you probably can, but it means the weeds in your orchard will look like a forest by the end of the summer. If you get used to operating always behind schedule, then you can settle into that a bit. The biggest success? Peaches. For months we tended the orchard, crossing our fingers that our work would produce some tasty fruit and I have to say that I was blown away by the flavor of our fruit. I am officially peach-spoiled. When we landed a small grocery store in San Francisco as a customer and saw our peaches on the shelf, I felt so rewarded for the work.

HK: Knowing what you know now having worked the soil, what are the lessons you’d want to pass along to U.S. shoppers and like-minded eaters?
Aubrey: Oh man, that’s tricky. I guess sometimes I feel like there is a Hollywood complex when it comes to our produce. That is, it’s gotta be beautiful or it ain’t shit. Sometimes we lose a lot of produce because it’s less than gorgeous, but customer expectations are through the roof when it comes to pretty produce. Sometimes that ugly produce actually means that your farmer refused to spray for pests and accepted the superficial damage instead. Which is a good thing, right?

HK: Yes.

Hot Knives Market Bag Commercial from Hot Knivez on Vimeo.

The wait is finally over. For a limited time only, this could be yours… the ONLY bag that cuts through shoes… for one easy payment, not available in stores, as seen on the Internet… representatives are standing by to take your call! Don’t miss the home shopping network discount code embedded in the infomercial above. (Thanks to M. Suter for directorial supervision.)

But seriously, we think you’ll really love this. It’s everything we’ve always wanted in a farmer’s market shopping bag. Designed in Los Angeles; handmade in Portland; forged from the sturdiest recycled fabrics. Ditch those nasty sacks already and get real. You’ll like the way you look. We guarantee it. Click here for details.

Hot Knives Market Bag from Hot Knivez on Vimeo.

We have an announcement to trumpet: We built a farmers market bag and it is nearing production! Why all the fanfare? This is hardly just some tote bag we slapped a logo on in a commercial act of branding. This bag is a game changer. (And may just be our biggest contribution yet to the experiment of civilization.)

Decay. Damage. Discomfort. Quel Dommage.

The simple truth of the green lifestyle is that your farmer’s market bags suck. They are weak. They are filthy. They lack aesthetic and are flimsy. They grow, like a forgotten fungus, in the corners of your pantry and the trunk of your car – a seething, unsightly mass of cheap canvas and stained nylon. To that end, we’ve bent time and space to circumvent fate – all time is now: The Hot Knives Market Bag is made real.

Over the last few months, we’ve studied the pitfalls of outdoor shopping, and the features that help people shop, cook and live better. We’ve designed the finest farmers market bag in the known universe. And we’ve located a small business, that can stitch them entirely by hand in the USA. Made from sturdy, recycled, bike-messenger-tough nylon and lined with hose-down-able vinyl lining in HK Pink, this is not another Chico. Custom tested pockets separate your herbs from your greens, and the stands-on-its-own structure allows for logistical feats you thought unthinkable with your nasty Trader Joe’s sacks. Recoup all those wasted seconds of searching every pocket on your person with the life-saving and ergonomic outer-wallet, you’ll never misplace that shopping list again!

So here’s the deal, the ultimate farmers market bag will be available online here in a matter of weeks. Check back! Make room for it now wherever your knotty twists of crappy canvas are stored. This is a labor of love for us. We Do you want one? Do you want two? Will you buy one for your parents? We want to help them!

Independence Day approaches and hopefully you’ve already set out your pool floaties, your July 4th beer menu, and your favorite quotes from U.S. founders. If you’ve yet to decide on what you’re eating, we’ve got some ideas. Hit us up on Twitter with any SOS queries and we’ll try to hit you back.

Our new friend Miranda in Brooklyn wrote us just last week with a weird proposition: That we trade her a July 4th menu for her rooftop cookout in exchange for two homemade tie-dye V-neck shirts she’d print during her party and send to our doorstep. We like weird trades; we said yes.

Since Miranda was a total stranger, we stalked her online and asked her a few follow-up questions. She likes pasta salad, corn, dairy products and Momofuko, but she doesn’t particularly like cooking. So we set our sights on an easy couple dishes centered around a potluck-friendly starch. We landed on Cornbread Salad, like a summer panzanella (bread salad) but with American accents. We made a simple cornbread recipe off the corn meal box (but added chives in the batter, and honey on top) and let it sit for 12 hours to get stale. We made some spicy pinto beans and marinated portabello mushrooms for grilling. We whisked a quick Ranch dressing. We crumbled up the cornbread and crunched up some Ranch-flavored Doritos for good measure. Combined on top of some really bouncy gem lettuces and arugula, this salad is both cracklike in its addiction, and fresh.

Then for a pre-meal snack. Corn, but how? We needed a classic flavor that would win the Brooklyn stamp of approval: smoke and coffee. We mixed finely grinded Bacon Bits and coffee beans with hot sauce and mayonnaise. The resulting goo looks like spreadable lardo and tastes like it contains flavor crystals made of all the burnt goodies clinging to your grill after a BBQ. Needless to say, it’s good on grilled corn. Happy Fourth Miranda!

Menu For Miranda
1st Course: Roasted peanuts (in the shell)
Beverage: Cisco Brewers, Grey Lady Wit

2nd Course: Fresh Corn with Grill Gravy
Beverage: Six Point, Apollo

3rd Course: Cornbread Salad
Beverage: Brooklyn Brewery, Brooklyn Bamboozle

4th Course: Vanilla Ice Cream with grilled peaches
Beverage: Vodka Firecrackers

“Grill Gravy” on Corn
(Serves 10-12)

1/2 cup Kewpie mayonnaise (Veganaise works too)
2 tablespoons veggie bacon bits
2 teaspoons coffee beans (about 10 beans)
1 tablespoon fried shallots (optional)
1 teaspoon Louisiana hot sauce
6 ears of corn

1. Combine bacon bits and coffee in a coffee grinder. Grind until you reach a fine powder.

2. In a small bowl, mix together the mayo, hot sauce and porky coffee powder. Add shallots. Add salt to taste.

3. Slice corn cobs in half and cook on the grill for 5-10 minutes, or until starting to blacken in spots. Remove.

4. Slather corn with grill gravy and eat.

Cornbread Salad
(Serves 10-12)

4 portobello mushrooms
3 cups red wine
1/2 cup tamari
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons honey
lots of cracked black pepper
1 cup pinto beans (dry)
3 cups vegetable stock
3-4 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 cup Ranch Doritos
1 loaf of day-old cornbread (an 8-inch tray)
1-2 heads lettuces of choice

Ranch Dressing
1/3 cup Greek yogurt
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 tablespoon buttermilk (soy milk OK)
a squeeze of lemon juice
2 tablespoons fresh chives, minced
2 tablespoon parley, minced
1 teaspoon paprika
salt and fresh black pepper to taste
dash of Louisiana hot sauce

1. Set your dried pintos, tomato paste and chipotle peppers in a pot with your stock and set to medium heat until you reach a steady boil, then lower to simmer and cook until for about an hour, or until fork tender. When they’re done, keep them covered and warm until serving.

2. Marinate your portabellos: Snap off their stem and give ‘em a wash. Using a spoon gently scrape off the black gills. Set them all in a casserole dish, with their bottoms up. In a bowl, whisk red wine, tamari, honey, garlic, salt and pepper and pour over shrooms. Let sit like this for a couple hours covered, jostling them every 30 minutes to ensure they come in contact with the liquid.

3. Make the dressing by combining all ingredients and whisking. (Add more buttermilk/soymilk if you want a thinner consistency.) If serving it on the side, sprinkle extra chives and paprika on top.

4. Grill the portobellos: Fish them out of the marinade and brush with some olive oil. Toss them onto a hot section of the grill, with their bottom-side up and let sit for several minutes. Baste them by pouring a few teaspoons of the marinade on each shroom every few minutes. Flip at least four times total while basting, then remove. Once cool enough to handle, slice them into slivers (think pieces of flank steak on a steak salad).

5. Grill the cornbread: Cut the cornbread into 4-5 large slices and make sure to keep it from crumbling in your hands. Gently brush with olive oil and set on a slightly less hot section of the grill. Flip a couple times with tongs, cooking just long enough to get grill marks. Remove.

6. Wash and spin your lettuces. Place them in the bowl you plan to serve from. To assemble, simply crumble cornbread and add, drizzle on as much dressing as desired, top with warm pinto beans and grilled mushrooms. Finish with a dusting of Ranch Doritos.

Firecracker Cocktail
(Makes 4)

1/4 cup Curacao
4 shots small batch vodka
1/2 cup fresh raspberries
4 tablespoons water
4 tablespoons agave syrup
8 red cherries
20 ounces tonic water
half a lemon

1. A couple hours before serving, make a tray of white and blue ice cubes. Do this by pouring Curacao into half an ice tray, filling each cube unit only halfway, then topping the rest of those cubes with water. (Pure Curacao will not fully freeze.) Fill the second half of the tray with 100% water.

2. Make a raspberry syrup: blend the berries with 4 tablespoons water. Slowly drizzle agave syrup. Blend for a whole minute or until thoroughly pureed. Strain if desired to remove seeds (not needed).

3. To mix each drink, pour a shot of vodka and top with a squeeze of lemon, then top with tonic. Grab your ice tray and have it ready. Next pour in about a fourth of your raspberry syrup (this will fizz, move quickly to serve it while still bubbling). Top with a couple blue and regular ice cubes. Drink!

When Hot Knives partnered with our friends at Elf Cafe this spring for a late-night food window called “El Falafel,” we weren’t sure whether anyone would show up. You people must like falafel! Because after just three hours, we sold upwards of 100 sandwiches and we had to call it quits early. (To every sloshed person who pulled up after last call last time, we’re still sorry!)

Here’s your chance for either redemption, or seconds. El Falafel makes its triumphant return this Wednesday for Fourth of July, still the only falafel in Echo Park, as far as we know. If you’ve ever celebrated Independence Day in this part of the city, you know that all that dodging bottle rockets works up a hunger!

Need a refresher? Our falafel balls are crackly crunchity on the outside but moist inside thanks to a fresh handmade batter of chickpeas and chickpea flour studded with fresh parsley, mint and cilantro.

The warm pita and falafel comes with hot sauce, garlic-tahini, homemade smokey hummus, and a tapenade of green olives, turnips and pickles. One sandwich, no options, no seating, totally vegan.

WHAT: Falafel Sandwiches
WHEN: Wednesday, July 4th
HOURS: 9:30 PM – 1 AM or until we sell out!
WHERE: Elf Cafe at 2135 W. Sunset Blvd., LA
BRING: Cash Only, sandwiches are $5 a pop

el Falafel (Coming Soon!!!) from Hot Knivez on Vimeo.

Last year, our friend Joel moved to Berlin. We expected him to quickly burrow into to the city’s party circuit and be appointed the American diplomat to Berlin’s hottest clubs. We did NOT expect him to become a line-cook at one. Lo and behold, our former roomie and ex-bandmate is slaving at the haute, German kitchen of a rooftop warehouse party palace. When he mentioned his first menu contribution – an asparagus salad special – we got jealous.

Berlin in spring is heaven. The entire city splays out on park blankets half-nude drinking giant pilsners. And then there’s the asparagus: Earthy, white and green pornographic spears that the Germans host an entire phallic holiday around.

To rekindle our Berlin fantasies, and to pay homage to our favorite Krautrock DJ-turned-line-cook, this week we assembled the ideal spring sauce: Asparagus Remoulade. A creamy lather of fat mixed with zingy mustard and the vegetal crunch of chopped asparagus. But, what do you smear an entire pint of Asparagus Remoulade on?

A 2-foot-by-3-foot pretzel, naturlich. For weeks we’ve seen this pretzel monstrosity in the bakery aisle of an Atwater boutique market and we jumped at an excuse to splurge. The thing is just calling out to be slathered in sauce, stacked with veggie meats and cheeses, pickles and consumed on an oversized picnic blanket. Below are the basics for whatever sized pretzel bread – or laugenbrotchen – you’re working with. Grab a pils, break out the Neu, and take your pants off. Genau!

Asparagus Remoulade
(Makes 1 and 1/4 cups)

1 bunch asparagus spears (thin)
3/4 cup Veganaise
1/4 cup whole grain mustard
1 teaspoon sea salt
plenty of black pepper
(dill garnish)

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Slice off completely, or peel, the woody ends of your spears. Once boiling, toss in spears and cook like this for 4-5 minutes. Then strain and submerge in ice water to cool.
2. Mix veganaise and mustard together in a bowl. Add salt and pepper.
3. Finely chop the asparagus into round bits and add this to the mustard-mayo. Stir and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or up to 2 days, before using.

Pretzel Sandwich
pretzel bread (size does matter)
asparagus remoulade
seitan slices
slices of Emmenthaler (or vegan Swiss)
sliced red onion
sliced kosher pickles
chopped fresh dill

1) Buy a giant pretzel. Genau!

2) Carefully slice the giant pretzel in half: Stand it on its side and slit the outer diameter with a serrated knife, slowly rotating it counterclockwise. Once complete, slit the inner sections of the pretzel knot by sticking your knife all the way through the already sliced outer piece and sawing through the center as well.

3) Slather both sides of the bread with remoulade. Then stack it high with seitan, Emmenthaler, pickles, and red onion slices. Garnish with fresh dill and press the bread together.

4) Transport it in one piece on a large cutting board. Cut it up into pieces when you’re stationary.

Beverage: Great Divide, Nomad Pilsner
Soundtrack: Iggy Pop, Sixteen

We’ve received gifts from breweries a precious few times in our blogging (and now booking) career, and getting a free case of ales from Founders Brewing Company felt like winning some kind of holy lottery. After purchasing Salad Daze, Founders’ new marketing wizard (Sarah) decided to send us a packet of frankinsense, myrrh and the holiest of holies: whiskey barrel aged stout. We are still over the moon about it.

Fictional Blog Reader: But wait, why is it that I can only have Founders if I have homies who’ll smuggle it back from the Midwest or engage in semi-illegal ebay situations? Isn’t Kentucky Breakfast stout, like, illegal? Does this mean that Founders is coming to California?!

Us: Well friend, its cool that you defy federalism, yes – selling beer across state lines in the mail is illegal, but you can skirt it!

We like to think that the (legal) liquid missive we received from the Midwest is the precursor to an ale based land-bridge that we will singlehandedly help to build.

Sadly, we can’t buy Founders in California. Yet. Founders is kinda like the Stone Brewing for the rest of the country, in that they’re a larger micro brewery making beers that don’t appeal to the meek mouth’d. Unlike the Southern Lords, Founders growth has not included rapid country-wide expansion and while we’re bummed that there’s a void on our side, we deeply respect the concept of intentionally limited expansion. Think of them as mindful imperialists.

While tasting the void – they that do not yet exist – we happened upon a new concept (that was known but unspoken until now): The “West Coast Bias.” Don’t get us wrong: these are awesome IPAs (for Michigan), there’s just a certain stack of chips on our occidental shoulders about the style that makes us skeptical of the Other. In our analysis, and in the words of Ryan Sweeney, the Founders IPAs have a particular attention to balance that places them on the Eastern side of the issue. If balance is the most problematic part of a solid beer lets not even call it a critisim – just a nod to different strokes. We’re more Black Flag than Minor Threat. Its cool.

In the end, Malts beat out Hops. We all agreed we would all have black teeth and breathing problems if the three stouts we were sent were available in our great state. The West Coast Bias gets lost in all that darkness…

Someday, somehow, Sarah – your beer will be sold here.

Top ranking:

Breakfast stout: Clean coffee flavors jumped out of the thick darkness. We all agreed we could drink this a little too regularly if given access.

KBS: Kentucky. Breakfst. Stout. The myth maintained itself. This is widely regarded as one of the best beers in the world, and we agree. Heavy coffee stout brewed with chocolate and aged in burbon barrells for a calender year. Amazing on paper — much better in our mouth (collectively speaking — its not like we were sitting around frenching each other).

Imperial: A real head turner; this made us all question our loyalty to other Czarist style stouts. Scaring us a little, as we’ve never doubted the superiority of Rasputin…until now (quiet – he’ll HEAR us).

Nemesis: This seasonal strong ale clearly cleaved towards a Barleywine, but the flavors were much more distinct. We could all picture the harder hitting hops when the beer was “fresh” but their fading over time contributed to something special: balance. Biterness, booze and bite were all part of the deal, but they were all so tempered with eachother we almost didn’t notice the high alchohol content.

Devil Dancer: Our top pick of the IPAs—devil dancer tasted exactly like those strawberry candies wrapped in strawberry looking wrappers. Sacerine but not too much so, the familiar flavors of giant IPA gone awry were thankfully absent. No wet dog, no grain alchochol, but also not as much specificity as we would’ve liked.

Double Trouble: A resoundingly balanced Imperial IPA where cereal, weed, citrus, and a distinct lady underarm funk all played almost too nicely together. Clearly perfection is nothing to complain about – this beer is pretty fucking awesome – but this specimen sparked the discovery of the West Coast Bias.

Centenial: the key to this little bruiser is the lack of filtration. The oily mouth feel of unmitigated dryhopping was awesome and made a lasting impression during the whole tasting. A solid, funky, mouthfeel.

It’s Raw Week here at Hot Knives, you know like the Discovery channel’s “Shark Week.” We dusted off the Dehydrator and started soaking legumes like weirdos. But even our inner Hippy is a snack freak. And one substance above all others is the crack of snacks: Cool Ranch.

Ranch is nasty. In a good way. It’s the combo of lots of fat with a slightly sour buttermilk-citrus zing, speckled with herbs and spices. We’ve found it’s addictive on onion rings, zucchini sticks and the like, even though eating too much of it makes you question your life decisions. Our friends in Portland refer to this basic precept as getting “ranch cramps.”

Last summer we routinely made the real thing, a dairy doozey, for all sorts of recipe play. This week, we found a way to whip it up using just vegan pantry staples and fresh produce. Paired with a crudite of crisp veggies and homemade raw crackers, we’re skeptical we can even attain ranch cramps on such a healthy diet. But maybe if we drink the whole batch in one sitting…

Raw Ranch
(Makes about 2 cups)

1 cup raw cashews
1 1/2 cup filtered water
1 cup almond milk (unsweetened)
3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
juice of half a lemon
1/4 cup grapeseed oil
1 tablespoon paprika
1 teaspoon cayenne
1/4 cup chives (minced)
1/4 cup parsley (minced)
1/4 cup dill (minced)
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast
Lots of sea salt and black pepper to taste

1. Combine the cashews with water in a plastic or glass container, then cover the with plastic wrap. Let soak for at least 6 hours, or as long as 24 hours, on the counter.

2. Once ready to make, drain the cashews over the sink and remove all excess water. Cashews should have nearly doubled in volume yielding you 2 cups soaked cashews. Add cashews to food processor along with half the almond milk and half the cider vinegar. Puree for one minute while you measure your oil and squeeze your lemon juice.

3. With the food processor still running, slowly drizzle in the oil and lemon juice. Mixture should form a silky smooth paste. Now slowly add the remaining half of the almond milk and cider vin (If you’re looking for a thicker texture, don’t add all of this. If you want a loose dressing for salads, add all of it and then some. Adjust as desired.). Add about a teaspoon of sea salt. Process until you have a thoroughly mixed liquid, the consistency of heavy cream.

4. Using a spatula, remove the liquid into a large mixing bowl. Add the minced herbs, yeast, paprika and cayenne. Fold in the new flavors with a spatula, or beat it with a whisk. Taste and add sea salt and lots of black pepper as desired.

5. Reserve in the fridge until you’re ready to serve.

Raw Crackers
(Makes two dozen)
Requires a dehydrator. We agree with the Raw Food Community that these are the best.

2 cups whole flax seed (raw)
2 1/2 cups filtered water
2 handfuls green kale leaves (about 1 cup)
4 tablespoons tamari
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon agave syrup
1 shallot (minced)
3 cloves garlic (minced)
1 handful purple kale leaves (optional)
1/2 cup minced parsley, cilantro and dill
1 teaspoon sea salt

1. Combine flax seeds with water in a glass or plastic container, cover with plastic and let sit for 6-10 hours on the counter.

2. By now the soaked flax should resemble puddy — or egg whites with seeds in ’em. Dump half of the flax into a food processor. Add half the kale, half the tamari, half the agave. Puree the mixture for about a minute slowly drizzling in half the olive oil. Then remove to a large mixing bowl. Repeat with the remaining flax, kale, tamari and oil. Combine in the bowl.

3. To the bowl, add the minced garlic and shallot. Finely chop the purple kale and add along with the minced herbs. Sprinkle salt and stir to combine.

4. Spread the flax mixture carefully and evenly onto 2 dehydrator sheet trays, forming a perfect square. (If you only have porous sheets, you can cover with plastic wrap and spray with canola oil to keep from sticking.)

5. Dehydrate at 105 degrees for 6 hours.

6. After 6 hours, remove the trays and carefully lift the cracker dough to remove plastic wrap (discard it) and flip the dough. Return to dehydrator for at least 10-12 hours.

7. After it’s done, cut into desired shapes. Toss in a large bowl with additional seasoning as desired. We like extra sea salt, nutritional yeast, onion powder and paprika (about 1 teaspoon of each).

8. Serve with vegetable crudite and ranch dip.

Beverage: St.Louis Gueuze Fond Tradition
Soundtrack: “Raw Ramp,” T-Rex

Some people, when they’re let down by the food all around them, they go on Yelp and moan about it. Why not get even? When we felt hunger pangs for a late-night falafel sandwich in our corner of Los Angeles – where no falafel exists – we reached for the fry oil.

Our one-night restaurant window we called El Falafel (only at Elf) made us feel a whole lot better. And selling out in only a couple hours, we think it made others feel good too. Deep thanks to all the chickpea cravers who came out for a sandwich. Bear hugs for Elf Cafe for partnering with us. Kisses to Eden for her basil soda. And our deepest deep-fried apologies to the handful of you bar flies who stumbled over late from Los Globos on an empty stomach as we were taking the lights down. (You will be rewarded in falafel.)

We thought it only fair to share our secrets for your home use. It took a whole month of falafel tests, before we settled on what is certainly the Alexandrian ideal of a falafel sandwich: warm pita, harissa, hummus, cabbage salad, a muffaletta-style relish, sliced pickles, tahini sauce, and piping hot falafel balls. The precise falafel batter recipe we used is a cherished family secret of Elf Cafe’s chef-owner Scott Zweizen, whose Polish grandmother years ago passed it down via a tattered piece of paper. But a pretty close approximation is below.

Now, what else is the neighborhood missing?

Pickle Relish
(Makes several cups)

2 cups green olives (pitted)
2 cups pickled turnip slices
2 raw carrots (peeled)
1 bunch parsley

1. Dice the olives, pickled turnip and raw carrots into uniformly small cubes like a pickled confetti. Toss together in a bowl. Finely chop the parsley and add. Season to taste.

Falafel Balls
(Makes 20-24)

1 and 1/4 cup dried garbanzo beans
(2 cups if using canned… for shame)
1 cup garbazno flour
6 cloves garlic, minced
half a red onion, roughly chopped
juice of 2 lemons
1/4 cup tahini
1 cup fresh parsley, chopped
1 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup water (as needed)
1 tablespoon sea salt
1/2 tablespoon black pepper
2 tablespoons urfa pepper (optional)
1 cup fresh mint, roughly chopped
3-4 cups oil for frying (sunflower, grapeseed etc.)

1. To cook them beans perfectly: Start with 1 and 1/4 cup dried beans. Soak for 1-2 hours in water, covered, sitting on the counter. Then strain, rinse and place in a pot covered with 6 cups water. Cook on medium heat until you reach a rumble, turn to simmer and cook for 1 hour. When beans feel slightly crunchy but cooked, (should not be popping their skins), remove and drain and set aside.

2. In a food processor, quickly pulse the onion, garlic, parsley, cilantro and two-thirds of the cooked beans together, but leave chunky. Add lemon juice, tahini, olive oil and water (as needed to help it move) and pulse briefly again.

3. Empty this mixture into a large mixing bowl and add the roughly chopped mint, garbanzo flour, the rest of the whole beans (give ’em a rough chop), salt, pepper, urfa and stir with a spatula. Cover and set in the fridge for as little as 30 minutes or as long as overnight.

4. To fry: Heat a heavy-bottomed vessel with at least three-inches of oil, enough room to fry several at a time. (If you have a thermometer, use it. Let the oil reach 350 degrees before starting to fry.) Use a small ice cream scooper or other utensil of choice to formulate about 1 tablespoon of batter into a consistent round or oval shape. Drop one at first to test it out.

5. Fry 2-4 balls at a time depending on what you can manage without dropping the temperature of the oil. Balls should fry for 2 minutes and come out crispy, dark-brown with a moist but gooey interior. Repeat until you have enough for your sandwiches.

6. Assemble in this order: Warm pita gets a slick of hummus and harissa, lay down 3-4 balls. Sprinkle with relish; top with cabbage slaw; squirt with tahini sauce and wedge two pickle slices on the side. Fold bread like a soft taco.

Beverage: Green Flash, Rayon Vert
Soundtrack: Selda, “Selda”

Falafel sandwiches. As perfect a street food as you’re likely to find; a time-tested vegetarian staple for people of the Levant and drunk guys alike.

New York’s got it. So does Berlin, Paris and Amsterdam. You can buy freshly fried herb-balls tucked into drippy bread from a late-night cart, stand or window in every most every city. Not our parts of LA, we’re loathe to admit. Demand falafel! We’re worth it, we deserve it!

Hot Knives has been on a hell-bent quest to remedy this – a one-month journey to perfect recipes and find The Chosen toppings. (Like some people self-improve by signing up for boot camp, we’ve been meeting late at night to try different blends of frying oils.) Backed by our friend Scott Zweizen and his sea-scroll-old recipes for perfectly spiced falafel balls, we’ve got it.

We ‘re starting with but a single night in Echo Park. Hot Knives and Elf Cafe bring you el Falafel. Here’s the deal: You bring cash, we hit you with the best falafel sandwich we think you’ll get in the city limits. You gobble on the street, repeat, leave. No linen, no silver, no menu. Don’t pass us by either. We will serve you faaalaaafel saaandwiches even if we have to chase you down in an American Apparel dressing room, interrupt your laundry day at Lucy’s, or rip you from your espresso. You can call it a pop-up; we call it a temporary autonomous eating zone.

WHAT: Faaaalafel saaandwiches

WHEN: Tue., Feb. 28

WHAT TIME: 10PM – 2:30 AM

WHERE: late-night window of Elf Cafe, 2135 Sunset Blvd.

HOW: Cash only!