I have always prided myself on being able to handle really strong coffee and really strong beer. I am sure that there is some correlation between my love for those two things. But I have a confession to make: I have finally met a beer that is bigger than I can even handle: the Bourbon County Brand Stout from Goose Island Brewery. Here is how the website describes the beer:

“I really wanted to do something special for our 1000^th batch at the original brewpub. Goose Island could have thrown a party. But we did something better. We brewed a beer. A really big batch of stout—so big, the malt was coming out of the top of the mash tun. After fermentation, we brought in some bourbon barrels that aged the stout. One hundred days later, Bourbon County Stout was born. A liquid as dark and dense as a black hole with thick foam the color of a bourbon barrel. The nose is an intense mix of charred oak, chocolate, vanilla, caramel and smoke. One sip has more flavor than your average case of beer. It overpowers anything in the room. People have even said it’s a great cigar beer. But I have yet to try a cigar that can stand up.” Greg Hall, Brewmaster

I don’t know if you are a fan of stouts, like I am, but if you are and if you like big beers that seriously kick you in the rear, then this is a beer you should try. It is aged 100 days in bourbon casks, which leads to 13% alcohol content. My buddy, Ty, and I enjoyed a bottle last night. As we poured it into our glasses, we knew this was a serious beer as it poured almost as thick as maple syrup. It was also darker than any beer I have tried. As I poured, I kept waiting for the head to develop, but this beer is so big that it does not even have a head on it. It smells of rich, deep dark chocolate and caramel, and the first few sips reminded me of Almond Roca (which added to my enjoyment of the beer as Almond Roca carries with it very fond childhood memories for me). After the first three sips, which rocked, I began to pick up more and more of the bourbon flavor. Also the dark chocolate notes become more and more pronounced. Also this is definitely a beer that must be sipped slowly and not drunk. It took me over 2 hours to finish. I probably should have stopped at half a glass, but there was something throughout the evening that kept calling me back to finish the beer.

The beer is available at the BevMo in Brea, CA. However, it is not cheap–a four-pack will set you back $20, but seeing how four ounces of this beer is all that I will want to drink in one sitting, a four pack will go a long way.

I could see pairing this beer with a great braised beef dish or as a dessert beer to highlight the almost candy-like texture and taste of it.

Enjoy!

As many of you know, I worked in the cheese room at Palate Food + Wine for a little while. I read up on cheeses. I put together a booklet of the cheeses we had on hand. I tasted cheeses constantly. And I smelled a lot of cheeses.

As I read about cheeses, particularly the ones that Palate carried, I was surprised to see some of the descriptions used for the odor of cheese. Some cheeses have an odor so strong that when I store them in my refrigerator, my fridge quickly smells like the cheese. As soon as I open the door, I am hit with the odor. Currently in my fridge is a wheel of Vacherin Mont d’Or cheese. I just hope that my roommate does not mind the powerful odor of the cheese.

Some cheeses should have a strong barnyardy odor, but a cheese should never smell like death, decay, dung or straight ammonia. For instance, Steven Jenkins in The Cheese Primer describes the French cheese Munster this way: “Munster has a very pronounced, powerful aroma, and I have never figured out how it is that a food that smells like rotting fruits and vegetables and barnyard animals can evoke hunger pangs in me” (83). Epoisses is another cheese with a very pungent odor, which is putting it nice.

The odors of food are important because when it comes to eating the nose does most of the work. The human mouth can only decipher five basic flavors: sweet, sour, bitter, salty, and umami. The nose, however, can sort through close to 10,000 different odors. Therefore, despite my mouth’s limitation in detecting the flavor, my nose compensates as it is connected to the mouth through the retronasal passage.

Unfortunately as an American, I am at a disadvantage when it comes to appreciating odors. The American culture literally shuns anything that smells strong, pungent, or funky. Think about how much money is spent each year to make everything smell pleasant. Granted some odors should be masked…I love my deodorant, and I am pretty positive that almost everyone else appreciates that I wear deodorant. I also love lighting fragrant candles to make my room smell nice. But this desire to cover up odors that might be a little unpleasant means that when it comes to tasting cheeses, I have to get over my preconceived idea that a bad smell equals bad taste.

You might be thinking, “Why would I ever want to put something in my mouth that has an odor that strong and that off-putting? I will just stick to food that smells good, like strawberries.” You are entitled to your opinion, but think of all that you will be missing in life. Epoisses is one of the best cheeses in the world. In fact, the great food writer, Brillat-Savarin called it the king of the cheeses. And once you get past the stench of the cheese, what awaits you is, in the words of Max McCalman, “a lovely chorus of refined flavors, complex yet well rounded” (The Cheese Plate, 102). Later, he writes, “It’s amazing how it can smell so funky and yet taste so balanced” (185).

As I thought about the odiferous nature of cheese, I began seeing the connections between cheese and my Christian life. I have come to believe deeply that my life should always smell and look good. I do not like it when things smell bad or get messy. I wish my Christian life was like a perfectly ripened strawberry—lush, perfectly ripened, that smell that immediately draws my mind to the beauty of spring and summer, and the juice that drips down my chin—that’s the Christian life I like. As I observe American Christianity, it seems that I am not alone. This is what we all want and this is what we present to others, and I think we have gotten pretty good at it, unfortunately.

But as I have studied spiritual formation, I have begun to learn that this is rarely the case, as we live in a fallen, sinful world. Sure there are moments when the Christian life might come close to resembling the strawberry. Messiness and foul odors are part of the process that God uses in his infinite wisdom to mold me and shape me. Just like with cheese, however, there is a fine line. I am not talking about sin, which to use the analogy with cheese, smells of death, decay and dung. I am talking about situations, trials, thorns in the flesh, that the Lord introduces, those events, peoples, situations, whatever they may be, that smell “bad” to me, just like some cheese might smell “bad.” However, if I can get past my preconceived ideas and deep beliefs of what smells good and bad, then I might discover that what awaits me is similar to Epoisses: “a lovely chorus of refined flavors, complex yet well rounded.”

Unlike with cheese, where the payoff comes as soon as the cheese enters my mouth, I may never fully know that chorus of refined flavors, but I will continue to learn to trust.

So I encourage you to buy some good “stinky” cheese and wine to enjoy with friends and talk about those “stinky” elements in your life right now.

People are always intrigued when they see the cheese room at Palate Food + Wine, probably because it is such a rarity in restaurants in Los Angeles. The room has big windows and a glass door so people are able to see all the cheeses, and often they will open the door, take a big whiff, and say, “I just wanted to smell the cheeses.” Or they will stop and take a picture of the room.

Recently, Jo Stougaard of the food blog My Last Bite came and dined (you can read her review here). While there she took some pictures of me at work, and she graciously emailed them to me.

Thanks Jo!

As a little update: Because of a person leaving, there has been some reshuffling of people. This means that I am now in garde manger. In garde manger, I help with plating cold appetizers, including the Porkfolio plate of various salamis and prosciuttos, the housemade pickles, potted mason jars, including pork rillettes, and salads. I am sad to leave the cheese room as I was enjoying learning about some of the great cheeses of the world, and passing along that information to the diners, but I am excited to have the opportunity to do more.

So the next time you visit Palate, you will not see me in the cheese room, but rather in the garde manger room.

It has been too long since I have blogged. Part of the reason has been that my life has just been changing quicker than I can keep of, let alone make sense of. So here is my best shot at filling in/reflecting on the past six months.

It only six months ago that I signed up for culinary school. I looked back at my blog entries, and saw that I posted on June 8, 2008 that I officially signed up for classes. On the night of August 17, I posted my preliminary thoughts about what the start of culinary school meant. I knew that starting culinary school was a huge step of faith for me, opening new places in my heart that had yet to be explored. Sure they had been scratched, but now I had a sense that they would lead to something even bigger.

At the time I described this step as walking into a pitch black room. I don’t know if this room is still pitch black or if the Lord has turned on the lights too quickly that I am now blinded. Or maybe He is simply illuminating the steps as I walk and as needed. At times the steps have been ones that have led to valleys where I cried and wept (the week that I totaled my car) and at times the steps have been to the highest mountains where my dreams came true (getting a job at Palate Food + Wine), both events happening within a month of each other.

On November 1, I was heading to Ty’s house to watch the Lakers game. At the time I was living in an apartment where to leave I always had to turn onto a very busy street which at times can be an almost blind turn. For this reason I was usually über-careful. For some reason on this night, for whatever reason, I did not see the car, and as I pulled out to make a left-hand turn, the car slammed into me. Praise the Lord that neither I nor the other driver was hurt. But now I left to pick up the pieces and sort through this accident and all that it stirred within me. My life was already so chaotic that I told the Lord that this was all too much. People came around me and walked with me through this time, and the Lord cared for me in ways that I needed as well, like providing a great new car.

To top it all off my birthday was that week, November 5 to be exact. On November 8, my parents took me to Palate Food + Wine for my birthday, a restaurant that I had been looking forward to visit for a really long time, considering it’s the top new restaurant in Los Angeles. What I failed to mention in my write-up of Palate is that when Brett Doherty came over and talked with me, he gave me his business card and told me to call him if I needed help finding a job or if I was ever interested in working at Palate. November 12, I am on the phone with Brett Doherty and by the end of our conversation, he asks me to send him my résumé to look into the possibility of me working part-time at Palate.

This was no small thing for me. In the week leading up to my visit there, I kept dreaming about the possibility of being offered a job to work there, but would always tell myself, “Andrew, don’t get your hopes up, as those kinds of things don’t happen to you.” But here the Lord is giving me a deep longing of mine.

On December 3, I received a call from Palate that they have a part-time opening in the cheese room, and that they would like me to come down for an interview on Friday, December 5. I left Palate Food + Wine that Friday with a job, starting on December 20. The plan was for me to work Thursday through Saturday nights, which would allow me to still continue in culinary school and in my seminary program. It was not going to be easy, but I thought I could manage that crazy of a schedule until I was done with culinary school.

About a week and a half into the job, Chef Gary Menes, the chef who hired me, asked if I would consider coming on full-time, which would mean taking a leave of absence from culinary school. What in the world was happening? I still felt like I had a ton to learn from culinary school, yet how could I pass up the opportunity to learn on the job at a top restaurant in Los Angeles? The more that I thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense to drop out of culinary school and work full time. While I am not making a lot of money at all, at least I am not having to take out thousands of dollars in loans each month to live. So on Monday, January 5, 2009, I dropped out of culinary school.

Culinary school had been a great needed first step for me. Through attending, even for the short time, I realized that in some way, I am supposed to be involved with food. I also realized that I was good at cooking. Up until recently I would tell people that I simply follow recipes. Cooking is not that hard…just follow the recipe. I still believe that, but I also realize that the Lord has gifted me in certain areas of cooking. My chef instructors constantly told me that and it was evidenced by my scores and grades.

As a result of realizing my giftedness with food and cooking, I have also become more comfortable with myself, which only makes sense. I feel like I am developing into a full person. I am beginning to know myself as truly me and not what others think I should be or what I think others want me to be.

My head is still reeling from all that has taken place. I am still scared as I continue to walk in this new avenue of my life, but I am also excited to see what else develops. It definitely has not been an easy past six months, but I also would not trade it for anything. But this I know: I feel confident that I am where God wants me and will wait expectantly to see what doors He opens next.

On Saturday, November 8, my family and I celebrated my birthday by visiting Palate Food + Wine in Glendale, CA. I had been wanting to visit this restaurant for awhile, as people have been raving about it since it opened in the Spring 2008. Here is a sampling: Jonathan Gold’s review, LA Times’ review and EatingLA’s review.

If you are looking for a quick review, here it is: stop what you are doing, call Palate and go. You may have to wait a month, but it will only allow you to get more and more excited about what awaits you.

Palate is run by Octavio Becerra, who for years worked for the Patina Group, and was mentored by the great former Patina chef Joachim Splichal. I have never been to Patina, so I cannot compare how Octavio’s personal take on food compares with Joachim Splichal’s, but needless to say Octavio clearly knows what he is doing, as the food that I tasted on Saturday night was absolutely amazing. Having read quite a few reviews, I went in with incredibly high expectations, and not only did Palate meet the expectations, they far exceeded them. Octavio was not actually in the kitchen on Saturday night, as he was taking the weekend off to take his family camping, and the food was still incredible, which is a testament to the people that Octavio has hired and the culture that he has already created in his kitchen.

What I loved most about Palate is that the food is completely unpretentious. It is simple in a very good way, where the ingredients speak for themselves. The plating is wonderfully basic, so you know exactly what you are eating. The ingredients are fresh. I love the fact that on the website you can see exactly where Palate is buying their ingredients from. Palate has that warm, cozy feel somewhat akin to being invited into someone’s home and kitchen for an exquisite meal.

The staff at Palate was incredibly friendly and nice, and went out of their way to make sure I had a memorable experience. I had called Palate a few weeks ago to ask if I could meet Octavio, telling them that I am in culinary school. As soon as I stepped into the restaurant and told the hostess my name, she apologized profusely because Octavio had decided to take the weekend off to go camping with his family. During the course of the evening, Francois Renaud, the general manager, came over to the table to apologize again, and asked me about culinary school. To top it all off Brett Doherty, Octavio’s partner, if I remember correctly also came over and talked to me and asked if he could be of assistance to me. Those instances are what make Palate special to me—making sure each guest is having the highest quality experience possible.

As soon as we were seated, we were greeted with a plate of freshly baked bread, plus fresh butter that is made in house. The fact that the butter is made in house should clue you in to the attention to detail that informs everything that Palate does.

In regards to the wine, Palate offers a good selection of wines from smaller wineries with a heavy emphasis on European wines. I prefer a good bottle of red wine over white, any day, week or month. And since Palate’s cuisine features lighter flavors (i.e., no strong beef dishes), I had already made up my mind that a bottle of burgundy would be ideal, plus a 2005 Burgundy might top my list of favorite wines right now. And it really was perfectly suited for the cuisine.

We started with a plate of porkfolio, as Palate cures their own meats. The meats were good, but I have to confess that I do not know enough about these meats to give a well informed opinion. I found the prosciutto to be the best. Palate also does mason jars filled with different spreads. We tried the potted duck rillettes. The duck was cooked until amazingly fork tender, and had great flavor. When you visit, a mason jar is a definite must. Palate is all about the pork, and they usually have a mason jar filled with pork, which would probably be better than the duck.

The food is meant to share, so we ordered six different salads and passed (there were seven of us total). We tried the soup, celery root (not a huge celery fan). The persimmon, prosciutto, wild arugula, cider vinaigrette was amazing – the combination of the sweetness of the persimmon, the salty richness of the prosciutto, and the peppery bite of arugula were a perfect combination (pictured to the left). The roasted beet salad also had a great flavor to it, being paired with goat cheese. Beth, my older sister, tried the roasted carrot salad with yogurt cheese, wild arugula and chick peas. I did not try a bite, but she seemed to really enjoy it.

But it was Palate’s main courses that shone. I ordered the crispy sweetbreads, mainly because I had never had them, and wanted to try them. Just so we are clear, crispy sweetbreads involve no bread and no sweetness. They are rather the thymus gland from veal. I enjoyed the taste, but preferred other dishes to the sweetbreads. I also ordered the braised oxtail that was incredibly tender and moist (pictured on the left). The meat melted in your mouth, yet had an incredibly rich flavor. The oxtail was topped with the marrow that had been fried, so that it was crispy on the outside, yet custardy smooth inside (genius!).

My dad ordered the pork trotters, just a nicer word for feet (pictured). I do not know what magic they performed on the pork, but it was even more tender than the oxtail. And then the taste: smoky ham goodness. I have told people, think of the best smoked ham you can think of then amplify it, and top it off with a tenderness that took the dish from outstanding to just straight ridiculous.

My brother-in-law ordered the pork belly (pictured below), which has gotten the most outstanding reviews from people. I only had one bite, so it is tough to make a really informed opinion, but with the pork trotters being so good, I don’t think it is fair to compare.

Anna, my youngest sister, ordered the duck, which was the one dish that somewhat disappointed me, but I think it is a difference in preference of preparation. Duck has an incredibly thick piece of fat in between the skin and the meat. Most preparations call for rendering that duck fat; however, Palate decided not to render it. While I love fat, duck fat is very chewy, unlike the pork fat that melted in my mouth. The duck was still cooked perfectly. I am sure that Octavio has a great reason for preparing the duck the way he does, which I would love to hear.

Deborah, my middle sister, ordered the yellow snapper. And my mom ordered the Pacific black sea bass. I only had a bite from each, but the fish was again perfectly cooked. It was moist and tender and fresh.

For dessert, Palate offers three items; however, cheese is their real specialty. As a family then we ordered one of each of the desserts (if you go, make sure to get the chocolate pudding—amazing). Beth, my oldest sister, Deborah, the middle one, and I all split a cheese platter. They have two of my favorite cheeses: Epoisses and St. Agur Bleu, so I stuck with those, while our waitress put together a platter for Deborah and Beth consisting of a cow’s cheese, a sheep’s cheese, and a goat cheese. Our waitress also picked out a beautiful sweet French red wine for my cheeses that paired beautifully.

Palate is every bit as good as others have said. If you are looking for a memorable evening to spend with friends or family, I would highly recommend Palate Food + Wine, but just be sure to call at least a month ahead to get reservations as it might be the most talked about restaurant in Los Angeles right now.

One of the most enjoyable techniques that I have learned thus far in culinary school is making risotto. I had never made risotto before, as I had thought of it as a difficult dish to make. In talking to others, there does seem to be this aura surrounding risotto where people think of it as a dish only trained chefs can make. In actuality, while more difficult than making steamed rice and rice pilaf, risotto is not that difficult if you understand a few simple steps.

First a little about risotto. Risotto is an Italian rice dish made with Arborio rice (available at Trader Joe’s and most grocery stores in the rice section); it is not a pasta dish. The objective in making risotto is to have the end product be creamy; the risotto should be able to fall upon itself—you should not be able to hold a form or a shape. The creamy texture is not achieved through the addition of cream or any dairy, but rather through the gelatinization of the starches in the rice through gentle heating, stirring and the addition of liquid.

There are five general steps in making risotto.

1. Soffrito—this is the fat and flavor for the dish (usually through sweating onion or other aromatics in butter).
2. Riso—here you would pearl or sauté the rice (you just want to heat the rice through).
3. Vino—here you add wine and reduce au sec, meaning almost dry.
4. Brodo—then you start adding hot stock or broth in increments (use low sodium so that you can control the amount of salt yourself), each time adding enough to cover the rice, stirring until the liquid is absorbed. (Some people say that you have to constantly stir the rice, which is what makes the dish a little more intensive.) You want to cook the risotto until the rice is al dente, like you would cook pasta. What this means is that the grains are cooked until they are still firm, not mushy, but not crunchy. The individual grains should still have a bite to them, but they should not have a chalky texture to them.
5. Condimenti—when the rice is almost done cooking, you add the remaining flavors that would define the risotto, including grated parmesan cheese (most risottos that I have seen include parmesan cheese in them). For instance if you were making a risotto con fungi (mushrooms), you would add the mushrooms and the parmesan cheese at this point. You would also season with salt and pepper. Serve the risotto immediately as it does not keep well.

After making risotto a few times in class, I wanted to experiment with different flavors in risotto. One of my favorite flavor combinations is bleu cheese and chipotles in adobo sauce. The sharpness and earthiness of bleu cheese pairs beautifully with the smokiness and spiciness of chipotles. So I decided to try a chipotle bleu cheese risotto.

My biggest question was how to add the chipotle flavor without overwhelming people with too much spice. My goal was to have enough so that people will know that it is there, but not too much where it is too spicy to enjoy. I talked with one of my chef instructors about it, and he suggested simply adding the adobo sauce to the stock or broth. As I began to simmer the broth, I added the adobo sauce. I thought I had added too much up front, so I poured out some of the broth and diluted with water. What I did not account for is the spice being tamed down once it was added to the rice, so I added more adobo sauce towards the end of cooking. I guess this is better than having too spicy of a risotto.

The other question I had was what type of bleu cheese to use: Maytag, Danish, Stilton (English) or Roquefort (French)? I went to Trader Joe’s to see what they had, and they had the Stilton, Danish, and Roquefort, so I bought all three in order to taste all of them, including dipping them in the adobo sauce to know how each cheese would pair. I was cooking with Debbie Schuster, one of my major partners in food explorations.

We first tried the bleu cheese by themselves. The Stilton had a flavor like a mild cheddar but with the added pungency of bleu cheese. It had a dull flavor, lacking sharpness. Debbie like the Stilton best by itself, but with the adobo sauce, the cheese did not contrast with the sauce and was almost overpowered by it.

Next came the Danish Bleu Cheese, also known as Danablu cheese. This cheese had a nice sharpness to it. It was also creamier than the Stilton. It really fell right between the Stilton and the Roquefort. I actually did not try this one with the adobo.

Finally we tasted the Roquefort. This was my favorite, as it was sharp, bright yet still earthy, bold, and somewhat just nasty, everything a bleu cheese should be. It was also the creamiest of the three. And with the adobo, the sharpness of the Roquefort came through beautifully, so that we tasted the best of both the cheese and the adobo. So we decided on using the Roquefort.

I made the risotto, and towards the end started adding the cheese and a little more adobo. I knew a little would go a long way, so I started small with both. Obviously both Roquefort and adobo sauce are bold flavors, so I knew that I was going to have a bold risotto, but I was hoping to not overwhelm the guests. I also added some sautéed mushrooms and a little shaved parmesan cheese. The end product was exactly what I had hoped for: both the adobo and the Roquefort came through on the palate without overwhelming. It was just enough spice to let one know that it was there, but not enough that prevented one from eating a full portion.

I wish I could give you a full break down of the recipe, but I did not measure how much adobo sauce I used or cheese. But here is a rough break down to serve about six people.

• ½ large onion, small dice
• 4 TBSP unsalted butter
• 2 cups Arborio rice
• 6 oz white wine
• 7 cups low-sodium broth or stock, flavored with maybe 2-3 tsp adobo sauce (you won’t use it all, but better to have too much than too little)
• Roquefort to taste
• Adobo sauce to taste
• Grated parmesan cheese to taste
• Salt and pepper to taste.
• Sautéed mushrooms

I served the risotto with Abadia Retuerta 2004 Seleccion Especial, a Spanish red wine made from 75% Tempranillo, 20% Cabernet Sauvignon and 5% Merlot. I knew that a Spanish red would be perfect with this risotto, as Spanish reds can stand up to some heat, plus they have a some earthy tones to them which I thought would complement the bleu cheese. I thought it paired really nicely with the dish.

I am finding that as I continue to learn more and more at culinary school my confidence to experiment and create continues to grow. A year ago I never would have had the confidence to create my own recipe, but by learning techniques at school and trusting my knowledge, I am discovering that I have the ability to create.

Fall is such a great season. Football, both pro and college, is back on every Saturday and Sunday. The World Series takes place. Lakers Basketball starts up again (I foresee a championship this year). I would say cooler weather and the leaves changing, but here in Los Angeles, I really don’t get a chance to appreciate that aspect. But Fall is also a great time for food. You get to bring out the big guns…hearty soups; big bold sauces; strong flavors…the kind of cooking that sticks and leaves you warmed and satisfied, plus probably a few pounds heavier.

TAPS Fish House and Brewery, in Brea, CA, celebrated the flavors of Fall on Wednesday, October 22, with their Fall Harvest Beer Dinner. Brewmaster Victor Novak and Executive Chef Manny Gonzalez work to create a five-course dinner highlighting not only the flavors of Fall, but also Victor’s amazing beers. Chef Manny creates a completely new menu for each of these dinners, so I felt like I really got to see him at his best, offering us his favorite dishes of the Fall. My good friend Ty joined me on this evening and we had an amazing three hours of eating, drinking and talking about food.

What was so enjoyable about the meal was just to see two professionals at their absolute best. TAPS brews incredible beers, and Victor does a great job of making it about flavors and the experience, not about the alcohol. This is evidenced by the fact that TAPS beers have won many awards. And Manny was able to show his incredible talent by not only creating a great meal, but also a meal that complimented and enhanced each of the beers.

Plus to sit down and enjoy a meal with Ty for three hours was just pure joy. At times words were not even necessary because we both knew that the other was experiencing the same sensation. The best way to describe the evening was being enveloped in pure joy. Neither of us technically had the money to be spending on something like this, but to forget about those issues for a night and to simply enjoy life was what both he and I probably needed more than saving the money for something else.

As soon as we walked in the door, we were handed a glass of the California Gold Ale, which is a really hoppy, citrusy, bitter beer. I had had it before, and while it is not a beer that I would drink on a consistent basis, as it is too hoppy for me, I found it to be a great beer to cleanse my palate and it also got my taste buds excited for what was to come.

The first course of the evening was a Mediterranean Style Hokaido Diver Scallops and Spanish Chorizo Ceviche with green olives, shallots, roasted tomatoes, smoked paprika and saffron oil, which was paired with the Irish Red. Each bite of ceviche had multiple layers of flavor: salty from the olives, smoky and spicy from the chorizo, acidity which is normal with ceviche and a slightly sweet, buttery taste from the scallops. The beer had a slightly nutty, earthy flavor to it, and when combined with the ceviche finished incredibly smooth.

The soup course was a Roasted Butternut Squash Bisque with Maine Lobster Ravioli, which was paired with the Cream Ale. I was really looking forward to this course, and it did not disappoint. The soup had a rich caramel smell; it was sweet from the roasting, but not overly sweet; and it was rich. I was a little worried that the lobster ravioli would be a small ravioli of mainly pasta and not much lobster, which was not the case at all. It was more of a dumpling than a ravioli, and the lobster flavor came through wonderfully, and paired beautifully with the soup. Then there was the Cream Ale. I had tried the Cream Ale before and thought of it as a good beer, but nothing special—incredibly smooth, but lacked flavor. It was a very unassuming beer. As another person at our table mentioned: “The beer felt lonely by itself.” But with the soup, the beer came alive. The fruitiness of the beer jumped out as we drank it with the soup. I think that because the soup was fairly sweet, the other flavor profiles of the beer came through. Ty and I, along with the other couple at our table, just loved everything about this course. Ty gave a great analogy that I will let me describe when he comments on the post.

Fish was the third course, and to be honest, it was the weakest of the evening. It was still good, but when everything else was amazing, it just could not stand with the other dishes. They served a Pan Crisped Wild Striped Bass with Sous Vide Fall Vegetable Salad with a warm Bacon Sherry Vinaigrette, which was paired with the Belgian Strong. Every other dish had so much flavor, whereas this dish was lacking in that same punch. However, Chef Manny was telling us that the purpose here was to prepare us for the beef course. He wanted something sort of light in between the soup and the beef course. In that sense then, he accomplished his purpose beautifully. However, I just did not find the pairing to work well. I felt like the beer overpowered the fish. I also felt like the fish was slightly dry and overcooked. The Belgian Strong was very spicy and fruity, which was Victor’s aim in brewing. It reminded me slightly of TAPS’ Hefeweizen.

Like I mentioned above, the purpose of the fish course was to prepare us for the meat course: Tender Braised Short Ribs of Beer with Sweet Potato Gnocchi, Parsnip Puree, and an Oktoberfest Veal reduction sauce, which was paired with the Oktoberfest. I don’t know if I have enough superlatives to describe how amazing this course was and how well the beer paired with all of it. With the sauce and the beef, the beer was strong and malty; whereas with the parsnip puree and the gnocchi, the beer had hints of caramel. So with every bite, I felt like I was experiencing something new. Chef Manny said that this was his favorite dish of the night, and it came through. It felt like everything a Fall dish should be: rich, spicy (cinnamon and nutmeg spicy), and most of all just comforting—a dish that would be even more amazing on a cold evening.

The meal ended with a Vanilla Bean Rum Raisen Panna Cotta served on top of an Oatmeal Cookie, which was paired with the Pumpkin Ale. The panna cotta was more rum raisin than vanilla bean, but it was still amazing. And the spice of the rum enhanced the spice of the pumpkin ale. I had eaten so much, and probably drank a little too much by this time that it was hard to fully enjoy the dessert.

I would highly recommend TAPS’ Beer Dinners if you ever have a chance to attend one. You will not be disappointed. I apologize for the quality of the pictures on the page; however, if you click on it, you will get the full picture.

Today in culinary school, I learned how to make chicken consommé. Consommé literally means “completed” or “concentrated.” Basically it is a strong, concentrated, clarified stock or broth. The goal is to remove all the impurities and particulates from the stock, so that you are left with a clear, flavorful soup that is as close to pure, unadulterated flavor as one can get. Egg whites are used to clarify the stock, because as the protein albumin coagulates in the stock, it gathers all of the impurities.

If you have ever tried a consommé, then you will know what I speak of when I say that it might be the best soup. You look at it and it looks like nothing special; in fact, it looks as though it might be pretty bland. But when that first spoonful enters your mouth, you are hit with an intensity of flavor unlike anything else that I am aware of.

As I read about consommés and then made it today, I got to thinking about how the process of making consommé is very similar to the process that the Trinity is doing in me. Let me explain.

Here is how one would prepare a chicken consommé:

Start with a cold, well-flavored, strong chicken stock. (This is absolutely necessary. Since the aim is to remove all the impurities, so that the essence of chicken is really all that is left, a poor stock will yield a poor consommé.) Four cups will yield a good sized single serving.

Measure out 4oz. lean ground chicken meat, 4oz. mirepoix (2oz. onion, 1oz. carrot, 1oz. celery), 4 egg whites (no egg yolks at all in the whites), 1 canned plum tomato (the acid helps coagulate the protein and adds a little flavor, but is not necessary). Blend all of this with the chicken stock.

Pour into a heavy saucepan. Add peppercorns, parsley stems, and a dried bay leaf (photo 1 shows what a consommé looks like when you begin).

Quickly bring to a simmer, never boil (boiling will break up the proteins and cloud the consommé), stirring occasionally so that the proteins can circulate.

As the heat rises you will begin to see the proteins coagulate and float to the top (as in photo 2), forming a raft. At this point stop stirring. Continuing to stir with break up the proteins and cloud the consommé.

Once the raft forms (as in photo 3), form a hole in it. One might have formed naturally, in which case simply enlarge it.
Let the consommé simmer for 45 minutes or so, again being careful never to boil it.

Line a strainer with either cheesecloth or coffee filters. Using the hole, carefully ladle the consommé into the strainer, straining into a clean pan.

Degrease the consommé using strips of parchment paper, which will pick up the fat without loss of much of the consommé. Return pan to stove and reheat, again do not boil. Taste for seasoning and add more salt if needed (make sure salt dissolves before you serve).

Ladle into a warm bowl and enjoy.

Hopefully what I have said makes sense. Now let me draw out some of the correlations between consommé and God’s work in me.

If I am honest, I have generally thought of myself as pretty good. I have always known that I still constantly struggle with sin habits, but on the whole I thought that I was pretty well off. However, since starting my master’s in spiritual formation, God has introduced some “proteins,” and has turned up the heat a little. These “proteins” have floated to the top, so that at times, I am left feeling like all that I see are the impurities in my life—the raft, if you like.

When I was making the consommé this morning, the raft really was ugly to look at. And if I did not know any better, I might wrongly assume that what was simmering was going to be really disgusting, rather than a beautifully clear, rich, flavorful soup.

It has been that way in my life at times. Often I get so easily consumed with looking at the raft—seeing all of my faults, imperfections, and impurities—that I forget what is going on beneath the surface. I forget that God is the Master Chef who is gently simmering me to clarify and purify me. He will not boil me, He will not allow the raft to break and cloud my life again. But neither will He rush the process; He knows perfectly how long I need to simmer with the raft. And when one raft is done, there will be another until that day when my consomméd life will be called home.

But until that day I will believe that God is doing a magnificent work, even though I cannot always see it.

Lord I believe, help my unbelief.

This past week, I have been delighting and ruminating over reading M.F.K. Fisher’s masterpiece The Art of Eating, which is comprised of five of her most famous works: Serve It Forth, Consider the Oyster, How to Cook a Wolf, The Gastronomical Me, and An Alphabet for Gourmets. For those of you not familiar with M.F.K. Fisher, she is probably the best writer of food of the twentieth century, who lived from 1908-1992.

I have just finished Serve It Forth, which is a collection of essays on the history of food, interwoven with personal tales of secret indulgences, perfect meals, an ideal kitchen, and more. Through each chapter, however, you get the sense that you are reading more than about food; you are reading about what it means to truly be human.

One of the chapters that I found particularly enjoyable and thought provoking was called “Pity the Blind in Palate.” In it, Fisher argues that America as a culture is blind to the delights of taste. She writes,

Almost all people are born unconscious of the nuances of flavour. Many die so…. They like hot coffee, a fried steak with plenty of salt and pepper and meat sauce upon it, a piece of apple pie and a chunk of cheese. They like the feeling of a full stomach. They resemble those myriad of souls who say, ‘I don’t know anything about music, but I love a good rousing military band.’ (p. 57)

One awakens a palate in the same manner one awakens his ear to good music—experimentation and thoughtful attention. As one experiments with new tastes and pays attention to them, a person begins to discover, like in music, the difference between good food and bad food. Fisher writes,

He is pleased. He is awakened. At last he can taste, discovering in his own good time what Brillat-Savarin tabulated so methodically as the three sensations: (1) direct, on the tongue; (2) complete, when the food passes over the tongue and is swallowed; and most enjoyable of all (3) reflection—that is, judgment passed by the soul on the impressions which have been transmitted to it by the tongue. (p. 58)

When Fisher first penned this, she noticed that the American culture on the whole neglects this development. On the whole, we eat simply to fill ourselves. I wonder if people think that in order to develop a more discerning palate, you have to eat at the really fine dining establishments and spend an inordinate amount of money. I believe that if one really wants to appreciate food in all of its aspects, one does need to eat at the nicer restaurants occasionally. But you don’t need to start there. To start, simply notice and pay attention to what you are eating. When you go to a favorite restaurant, try a new dish. Or better yet, try a new restaurant. And if you don’t like what you eat, try and articulate why do not like it.

I will admit it is not always easy. Many times, I am pressed for time when it comes to eating, or dinner is at the end of a long day, and I simply want to eat and relax. And there are times when disciplined thoughtful eating will not be possible.

You might be wondering, “Why do I need to do this? Won’t I turn into a food snob who can no longer enjoy simple food?” Not necessarily. Maybe you won’t eat Taco Bell as much, not because you are too good for it, but because it is not good food, not to mention it is not good for you. I still have my guilty pleasures (Western Bacon Cheeseburger from Carl’s Jr., namely).

The key benefit, however, to what I am talking about is being fully aware in the present. Again as Fisher writes, “He can taste, and life itself has for him more flavour, more zest” (p. 58). With each new bite and even chew, new flavors, new textures, and new smells are experienced, and these sensations are there for seconds and then gone, save for the memory. Hopefully as one becomes fully present to what one is experiencing through eating, one can became more fully aware of God in the present moment. As I go through life, God is constantly working, and I should avail myself to those workings.

My goal in cooking is not to fill people, and encourage gluttony and lazy eating. Rather my goal is to open people to new tastes, but more importantly to the present moment, and hopefully through that, the person who eats will be more open to God.

I have seen and tasted the Promised Land of Donuts, and it is very good. The Promised Land of which I speak of is the Donut Man in Glendora on Route 66, a thirty minute drive from my house in Fullerton.

You are probably wondering, “What makes these donuts any different than the donut shop five minutes from my house? And is any donut really worth a thirty minute drive? After all, aren’t all donuts the same?” Those are good questions and they deserve an answer, especially since up until today, September 6, 2008, I had not had a donut in over a year.

The Donut Man is a little hole in the wall place where you simply walk up to the window and order your donuts to go. I had heard distant rumors of these donuts, especially the donuts that are filled with a pile of either fresh strawberries or fresh peaches. But Ty and I were not without our doubts. Sure people speak of these donuts as the greatest in the world, but how good could a donut really be?

My friend, Ty, and I arrived and I began surveying the racks of donuts, but I could not find the donuts for which we had made our pilgrimage for, and I began to think that the drive was all for naught. But at that very moment, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a heavenly glow of freshly baked and glazed donuts stuffed with beautifully ripe, golden peaches.

Ty and I quickly each got one, along with a few others to eat as we watch college football. But the peach filled donuts were not going to wait. They had to be eaten immediately. Our donuts were packaged up in a box. We found a little grassy knoll that was perfect for eating a donut.

When we opened the box, I think a heard a faint sound of an angelic choir. We examined the donut realizing that these donuts required full commitment on one’s part. The only way in which these donuts could be eaten were firmly grasped with two hands, which would obviously lead to hands covered in sugar.

I picked up my donut to examine the heavenly bliss that awaited me. First the peach slices were in all different sizes and shapes, which simply confirmed that these were peaches that had been hand-peeled and hand-sliced just for the donut. Secondly, the peaches looked perfectly ripe—neither too soft in which case they would simply disintegrate with the sugar nor too firm in which case the peach would not be sweet enough. Nor were the peaches covered with a gelatinous glaze in which all you would taste was the glaze. Rather they looked as though they were simply lightly sprinkled with some sugar. And finally the smell…oh, the smell…the smell of fresh peaches the signal the end of the summer and a fresh donut that smells of a lazy Saturday morning.

The time had come to take the first bite, and it was then that all doubts were vanquished from my mind. Ty and I simply looked at each other and started laughing and almost crying…I kid you not. No words needed to be said between the two of us, for we both knew that this experience transcended words. We both began to wonder if this donut was what Paul saw and experienced when he was caught up to the third heaven and heard and saw things that were inexpressible in words. This was no ordinary donut that we were eating.

The only way to possibly describe the marriage of flavors that danced through my mouth would be this: imagine taking a bite of a perfect peach and then taking a bite of a fresh donut. Neither of us had ever tasted something so simple yet so amazingly profound. I began thinking that fresh peaches and fresh donuts were made for one another, and yet for 27 years, I had never been introduced to these flavors. The slightly tang of the peaches balanced the sweetness of the donut, so that there was no fear of this donut causing a diabetic coma.

We savored every bite of the heavenly donut, and neither of us minded that our hands were slowly being covered in the glaze of the donut, and knowing that there was no way until we got home to get it off. Any slight discomfort from being sticky was well worth it.

The ride home we both reminisced about the experience we had just shared together, and really could not wait to introduce more people to The Donut Man. Sadly, peach season is coming to an end, so there are only a few more weeks to enjoy these donuts.

One more thing: during strawberry season, The Donut Man does the same thing with strawberries as he does with peaches. I shall be counting down the days until those arrive back on the racks of the Donut Man.

915 E Route 66
Glendora, CA 91740