The Food N00bs

Amnesty!

You might think from the state of this blog that we haven't had any culinary delights at all for months. On the contrary! We've been enjoying and indulging and exploring...but non-foodie life has intruded, and soon we had a scary amount of backlog. How could we return to the blog without talking about this place, or that meal, or the other ingredient? Soon it seemed as if posting would require a three-day retreat with flowcharts blocked out in Magic Marker on those giant easel pads. We felt guilty. We felt overwhelmed. That wasn't a very tasty mood.

So here it is: we declare FoodN00b amnesty upon ourselves!

Here's a quick run-down (too quick, alas) of some of what we've been up to food-wise since we last spoke. We might get it together to post about some of this stuff in more depth later. And we might not. That's what amnesty's all about.

We received a delightful invitation to check out Salvador Molly's relaunch. It was very exciting for us, partly because it was the first time we were invited to something thanks to our blog, and partly because the food was AMAZING. Molly's is eclectic yet cohesive, and that goes for the decor, the mood, and the food. Everything fits, even as everything is so diverse it seems impossible that it should all mesh so incredibly well. Sorcha warns that the kahlua pork will make you see God, and Kal came here a second time due to a severe craving for their pina colada bread pudding. This place may be out of the way now that it's moved from its downtown locale, but it is completely worth the trip. (Just make sure that if you're driving you take care with their margaritas -- they're knock-you-down strong.) 1523 SW Sunset Boulevard, 503-293-1790; www.salvadormollys.com

We completely accidentally stumbled into Pix's bacon dessert flight night with wine and beer pairings (Division St. location). Though we were told by the chef that it was a one-time-only thing, it certainly highlights Pix's rapidly-rising reputation as a flights champion. (Kal has previously attended a vodka flight night at the N. Williams location, with similar outstanding results.) The bacon desserts were wildly creative, and the pairings -- oh, the pairings. Pairings are sometimes lost on we N00bs, as neither of us are wine snobs and we're both lightweights, but these were so excellent that even our uneducated palates were utterly delighted. (The Schlenkerla smoky beer was incredible - as if you took Lapsang Souchong and fermented it.) We highly recommend signing up for Pix's e-newsletter to keep track of all the wonderful one-time-only events they brew up. And happily, the everyday menu now includes the maple bacon creme brulee (both locations) and Schlenkerla (Division location only). 3402 SE Division, 503-232-4407; 3901 N Williams, 503-282-6539; www.pixpatisserie.com

Kal lucked into Kobe beef on the 4th of July. Hoo mama. Grilled to perfection and served with a robust red wine, it was easy to see what the fuss is all about. To be perfectly honest, Kal felt that she had had beef that good before -- but the difference was in knowing that for most beef to be that good, a great deal of fussing about with it in the pan and extra marinades/tenderizers/etc. must be employed. Seeing the lovely raw hunk of meat come out of the paper, go onto the grill, and arrive on the plate so unctuous with minimal "futzing" was astonishing. (Sorcha is not pleased that Kal did this while she was out of town. Her revenge will be sweet. Oh, yes.)

The N00bs peeked into the Green Fairy's world and had their first tastes of absinthe recently. Out of our tasting party of four, two found it rather icky. Sorcha liked it just fine before it was adulterated with the sugar and water. Sugar, maybe, but not the water. (Sorcha once accidentally drank an entire bottle of Jagermeister, attempting to get other people at a party to taste it. Sorcha is pretty sure she lost the ability to do long division that night. So Sorcha definitely has nothing against liquorice-flavored beverages.) Kal found it very tasty and drank two, but received little more than a mild buzz. Go figure. The N00bs tried Portland's own Trillium absinthe from Integrity Spirits.

At any rate, the N00bs regret our long absence. We'd offer to be sentenced to fifty lashes with a wet noodle, but that wouldn't really be punishment, now, would it? (And don't even think about trying to take away our coffee. Men have died for that.)

Grant Achatz is cancer-free

The Food N00bs were moved to tears tonight to read Grant Achatz's announcement that he is now cancer free -- and has retained his sense of taste as well as all of his tongue, thanks to the innovative and diligent doctors who worked with him to find the solution others thought impossible.

And isn't it just like Chef Achatz to proudly note he only missed 14 dinner services throughout his treatment?  You go, boy -- and one day we'll toast your victory from our table at Alinea.

Stand mixer squee

by Kal

A year and a half ago, while helping my previous roommate's parents downsize their domicile, my roommate's mom offered me her stand mixer.  She warned me that it was old and had a very large footprint but still worked great.  I was exhausted from helping out, so I said "sure" without even looking -- I didn't own a stand mixer, so I knew whatever type it was, I'd be pleased.

And then for a year and a half, the box sat unopened in storage while my living situation, and then my ability to reach my storage unit, fluctuated.  Finally, tonight, I opened that sucker up.

Oh.  My.  God.

I don't know the proper terminology for this, but you know how most mixers have the mixy part in the center of the bowl, and certain snazzy mixers have an arm that actually rotates the mixy part around the bowl?  This is the latter.  It also has some sort of ridiculous capacity I won't even guess at.  And it has a dough hook.  AND it has a timer function.  I am not kidding.  You can set it to mix something for 18 minutes and then stop.  It's a freakin' robot mixer.

I shall call it Gort.

Tis The Season

by Sorcha

One year, long before I'd begun my love affair with food (well, really, it's less like a love affair and more like one of those slightly sordid relationships where you get together sometimes to have really hot sex, and the rest of the time you act like there's nothing special going on), I tried to make eggnog from scratch. It came out tasting pretty good, but not quite as thick as I'd wanted. Mr. Sorcha, bless his heart, said, "Put it in the microwave, that'll thicken it!"

No. No, heart of my heart and light of my eyes, it won't.

Well, I suppose it might have, but as the result reeked of and tasted like rum-soaked scrambled eggs, I couldn't really drink enough of it to figure out if it was the desired thickness. He insisted it tasted fine to him, but we both knew better.

Oh, yes. We knew. And the angels wept.

Making stock!

by Kal

I've been wanting to make stock for a long time now.  I've been saving up bits and bobs of chickens in my freezer, and once Thanksgiving rolled around I was determined to give it a go.  Fortunately, Michael Ruhlman figured a lot of people would be in the first-time-stockmaking boat at Thanksgiving and has written this lovely post about why and how to do it.

My stock is currently in the oven.  I'll be updating this entry as I go, although I imagine there won't be much for me to say until I've actually cooked with it.  Actually, here's what's in my stock:

-Thanksgiving turkey bones, giblets, and drippings
-about two chickens' worth of chicken bones and giblets
When the time comes, I'll add:
-two big carrots, chopped
-three celery ribs, chopped
-one big onion, chopped
-about five big thyme sprigs
Also: 4 cloves of garlic, smashed, and about a tb. of black peppercorns

I've got the bright idea of picking up some cheap ice cube trays to store some of the stock, along with filling up some of those unused jars I've been collecting.  For those, I plan to measure out by the cup and label each jar accordingly -- so that when, say, I need two cups of stock, I can just reach in for the two-cup jar.

I've got this to say thus far: it smells really good in here.

2 hours in: I'm fascinated.  The stock has gone crystal-clear.  I can see all the bones and giblets at the bottom of the pot.  Also of note: the bones and giblets are at the bottom of the pot.  Many were floating early on.  The cats have decided this is some new form of torture I've invented: filling the house with the enticing scent of roast birds when there are none.

5 hours in: I finally threw my oven thermometer in there and found that I'm keeping it closer to 220 than Ruhlman's suggested 180.  But it isn't bubbling, and that's the important part.  Not much has happened visibly in the past three hours.  I'm about to throw all the aromatics in.

Finished: Well, I completely ran away from this post when my stock was done.  Bad Food N00b!  However, I can attest that the stockmaking went very well.  I froze 4 ice cube trays of it and a couple of jars as well, an later on made stuffing with some of the stock and that turned out delightful.  (I had no idea that when my mom used to simmer the turkey giblets on Thanksgiving, then use the "giblet water" to moisten up the Stove Top, she was making a bastardized version of stock herself.  She would cut up the giblets and put them in the stuffing, too, which I'm sure is part of why I have no problem with organ meat today.)

Overall, this process was a lot easier than I had expected, so much so that it was rather anticlimactic.  I do strongly recommend straining the finished product through cloth, however, just as Ruhlman told you.  After straining through a colander and achieving what seemed like a relatively smooth stock, I was stunned by what got caught by the cloth -- a whole lot of nasty dreck you definitely wouldn't want in there.

In conclusion: Make your own stock!  It's easy and fun and tasty!

Hippo Birdie

Happy birthday to Sorcha, the bestest co-N00b I could ever hope for.  Hooray for another year of culinary delights!

Wordstock P.S.

From last weekend at Wordstock, here's Michael Ruhlman signing Sorcha's copy of Reach of a Chef:

Are you a locavore?

by Kal

The New Oxford American Dictionary's Word of the Year for 2007 is locavore: one who eats locally-sourced food.  (No, not "food sourced from the local 7-11" -- that would be lazyvore.)

I found this out via Neatorama's lovely writeup.  The Locavores website seems to be a bit outdated, unless one wants dust off the TARDIS and sign up for their September 2007 challenge.

(By the way, coming soon on this blog from the Kal side of the N00b brain: best. brownies. ever; cooking like a pro when you're short on time/budget/skills/gadgets; where to get cow tongue burritos in Portland and what the pork-obsessed cat thought of it; where to get two-dollar eel and what the adventurous but uncertain Food N00b thought of it...)

Best. Day. Ever.

To celebrate our joint birthday - Kal's on November 9th, Sorcha's on November 20th - we decided to treat ourselves to something really nice. We hit Sel Gris for their late-night menu, as we'd heard really good things about the restaurant in general and its late-night menu in particular.

Oh. My. God.

The English language, while extremely capable of conveying what a wonderful experience we had, is not in any way able, in its coherent form, to explain the state of comatose foodjoy we entered into after our meal. Thus, while Kal, the smart one, will write about our meal, Sorcha, the evil one, will interpret it in  more apropos LOLcat speech.

The jewel of Sel Gris' late-night menu is the "Farm" burger: "Ground lamb, beef, foie gras, on house made brioche bun, with blue cheese, melted onions and duck fat fries."

DIS R FANCEE CHEEZBURGER. IT R NOT BURGER KING.

Although the N00bs usually take care to order two different dishes in order to sample as much as possible, we both opted for this dish.  We had a feeling it would be too good to share, and we were right.

DIS BURGER MINE NAO, U GO AWAY.

When our burgers arrived, my mind could not comprehend what it was I was looking at.  For a while, I thought I was looking at a double cheeseburger -- a patty of lamb and a patty of beef.  Further inspection proved, however, that there was but one patty (a combination of beef and lamb), and the other "patty" was in fact the largest unadulterated slab of foie gras I have seen in my entire life.

DIS BURGER HAF A FWAH. IT A BIG FWAH. DIS RESSERAWNT GENRUS WIF DEY FWAH.

Before I got my first bite in, Chef Mondok came to our end of the bar and asked, "How are those burgers?"  Sorcha replied promptly, "This burger is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."

DIS BURGER GIFT FRUM BIG KITTEH IN SKY. BIG KITTEH MAKED IT AND SAW DAT IT WUZ GUD.

I was grateful to her for putting words to such an experience, because once I'd had a bite I was pretty much rendered speechless.  The thick-cut duck fat fries were a perfect accompaniment -- they weren't heavily seasoned, thus providing a nice counterpoint to the massive flavor of the burger.

DIS BURGER SO GUD U KITTENS WILL HEAR OF IT LEJEND. U EAT DIS BURGER. IF U NOT LIVE HEAR, U COMES AND EATS. N00BZ WILL EVEN GIVE U RIED FROM AYR PORT. THX TO DUK AND LAM AND KAO WHO DYE SO WE CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER.

Really, "transcendent" sums up the whole Sel Gris experience.  We were warmly greeted by the host, who immediately put us at ease with casual banter; we'd arrived about ten minutes too early for the late-night menu, so he checked to make sure it would be all right with the kitchen if we waited, then sat down to chat with us for a few minutes, curious to see how we'd heard about the late-night service.

WE CAN HAZ WAIT FOR FWAH BURGER, Y/N? Y! WE CAN HAZ FRENLEE SURVUSS AND CHAT WIF HOST ABAOT FUD BLOGGIN, Y/N? Y! DEY IZ NICE PEEPUL AT SELL GREE!

When our menus arrived, we mentioned that we'd likely be getting the burgers; when our server (not the same person) arrived just a couple of minutes later, he asked if we were going with the burgers. Communication between the staff was clearly as efficient and elegant as the motion of the servers gliding around the cramped dining area as if they had all the space in the world.

DIS PEEPUL IS SNEAKEE! DEY NO WHUT WE WANTS WIFOUT ASK! IS LIEK DEY REEDZ OUR MINDZ!

I've heard a little griping on the internet about the decor, and I can't for the life of me figure out what that's about.  The warm, casual/elegant atmosphere is strongly supported by the clever and unusual decor.  It may not be as "Portland" as other places, but it's self-assured and internally consistent, and it means more to me that a chef and his design team have clearly thought these things out than whether they have chosen to go with the regional norm.

WHY PEEPUL SAY IT NOT PRIDDY? IS PRIDDY! IS COMFY! WE CAN HAZ VIEW UV SHEFFS AT WURK! DIS MAEK US HAPPY!

Back to the food: for dessert, we shared a chocolate mousse with an orange sauce.  First, splitting the dessert was a good idea -- they are generous in their dessert portions.  Second, this dessert was absolutely sublime.  The balance of chocolate and orange was spot-on. I found myself closing my eyes every time I took a bite, just to savor it a little bit more.

OMG DIS DIZURT LIEK SEX ON PLATE ONLY WIFOUT AWKWURD SILENSE AFTERWURD AND IMPTEE PROMISSUS TO CALL U FOR NOTHER DATE.

As readers of this blog will know, the N00bs are pretty picky about their coffee.  Sel Gris serves a type we'd never heard of before (Courier Coffee), and it blew us away -- so much so that it was a pleasure to polish off a large French press pot at a very late hour that may bode poorly for our sleeping habits.  As with everything else, the coffee service was also rather transcendent: the cream and sugar was presented attractively, and the host even stopped by to pour Sorcha's second cup from the press for her.

CAWFEE R NUM. CREEM PICHUR LUK LIEK BIRD. IZ NOT BIRD - DO NOT EAT! IS STILL PRIDDY THO. PEEPUL CAYTER TO LAZYNESS OF GESTS.

Finally, we were presented with two delicate truffles topped with sel gris.  We'd never had salted chocolate before, and oh, my word.  I understand what the big deal is all about now.  The salt enhances the flavor of the chocolate -- much as we N00bs noticed years ago when eating potato chips with our M&Ms.  Absolutely brilliant.

WTF? WHY DERE SAWT ON DAT CHOKLIT? DUDE, WAIT...WHAT? IS GUD! NOM NOM NOM

All in all, this beautiful experience took just under an hour from walking in to walking out.  Service was astonishingly attentive and friendly, never crossing the line into hovering or precious.  We felt quite special -- as I'm sure every other diner did.  This is definitely a top-notch restaurant.  And I can now say I've had a $16 burger that was well worth it.

DIS A MONEY WELL SPENDED. WE GOES HEAR AGIN. U GOES HEAR TO. SRSLY, WE WILL PICKS U UP AT AYR PORT. JUS LET US NO.

Sel Gris
(503) 517-7770
1852 SE Hawthorne Blvd, Portland. OR 97214
Late-night menu 10:00pm - Close
Visit the Sel Gris website (although there's nothing much there at the moment).

We are stardust, we are golden...

Today the N00bs went to the Wordstock festival. As well as having lots of writer-geek fun and scoring both free and cheap books (three Palahniuk novels for a buck fifty each, and it benefited the Portland library!), we attended the "Art of Food Writing" panel, which featured Nicole Mones, Kathleen Flinn, and best of all, Michael Ruhlman. The panel was fun and informative, and afterward, we were fortunate enough to get books signed by Michael (Elements of Cooking in Kal's case, Reach of a Chef in Sorcha's) and have a moment to chat. Despite dealing with a brutal travel schedule, Michael was just as friendly and personable as his writing makes him seem, and his passion for his subject is just as infectious on a stage as it is on the page.  Food chat and cheap books -- it's been a good day for the N00bs.