Video Attempt: Bon Appétempt Goes to Paris

As per usual with these things, I'll begin with an apology: I'm sorry that I wasted the roe. While watching this video, I got a deep pang of regret that I didn't try to cook/eat that portion of the coquilles (scallops). Also, this video marks the end to our Parisian wrap-ups. Yes, it's back to the real world, Los Angeles, avocados, and hot sauce. Not a bad place to be.

Caramelized Sea Scallops via Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home
Keller writes: "I always buy big scallops, graded U7, which means there are 7 of this size in a pound, and for this dish, we brine them to season them all the way through."

(Even though I essentially halved this recipe in the video, here, I'm giving you Keller's recipe as it was originally printed, since I honestly don't know what size our scallops were and can't even remember how much we bought in terms of weight. Sorry! We were on vacation?)

2 cups kosher salt, plus more to taste
2 cups hot water
8 cups cold water
12 U7 sea scallops (about 1 3/4 pounds; see headnote), preferably dry-packed, tough side muscle removed from each one
About 2 tablespoons (1 ounce) Clarified Butter*
1/2 lemon (optional)

Line a small baking sheet with paper towels. Combine the 2 cups salt with the hot water in a large bowl, stirring to dissolve the salt. Add the cold water.

Add the scallops to the brine and let stand for 10 minutes (no longer, or the scallops may become too salty). Drain the scallops, rinse under cold water, and arrange in a single layer on the paper towels.

Heat the clarified butter in a large stainless steel frying pan over medium-high heat until it ripples and begins to smoke. (Although you may be tempted to use a nonstick pan, a stainless steel pan will produce a more beautiful caramelized exterior.) Sprinkle the scallops lightly with salt and add them to the pan, without crowding. (If necessary, cook the scallops in two pans or in 2 batches; if they touch, they will steam rather than caramelize.) Cook, without moving the scallops, until the bottoms are a rich golden brown, 3 to 3 1/2 minutes. Turn the scallops and caramelize the second side.

Transfer the scallops to a serving platter and serve with a squeeze of lemon juice on top, if desired.

*This is from me, Amelia. To clarify butter, melt 3 tablespoons on the stove top and then skim off or pour off the clear yellow, liquid component, leaving behind as much of the white milk solid part as possible. The clear yellow stuff is what you want. For a much much better how-to and description, check out Mr. Lebovitz's site.

Arugula Salad with Lemon Dressing 

4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (or more to taste)

salt and pepper
1 bunch/bag of arugula
Parmesan cheese

I like this dressing really lemony, so I start with about 4 tablespoons of of olive oil and 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice in a small bowl or, as showcased, glass. Add a few healthy pinches of kosher salt and a few dashes of pepper. Stir it up and taste it. If it's too tart, I add more olive oil. Not tart enough, I add more lemon. You get the idea. Once it tastes delicious, I pour it over the arugula and toss with some grated Parmesan. If you have tomatoes on hand, sure, throw some in there too. 

We Went to Paris

Mes amis! I hope you're ready for a photographic tour of our trip because that's exactly what's about to happen... Stay tuned next week for the Paris video attempt!! 

1. View of Sacré-Cœur Basilica and Montmartre from the Pompidou Museum.
2. Giant painting at the Pompidou.
3. We may not have stepped inside of the Louvre, but it sure did look pretty from the outside.
4. Enjoying a King Falafel Palace falafel because L'as Du Fallafel was closed, and I wasn't about to leave the Marais without having sampled some falafel/fallafel. (In super controversial news, we went back another day and tried L'as Du Fallafel, and I must say that although they were both crazy delicious, I preferred King Falafel Palace! Hate mail?)
5. The Seine.
6. Galerie Salon, the best tiny store we ever stumbled upon (4 rue de Bourbon le Chateau) that carried Astier de Villatte. Matt got a tiny cup and bowl (see iPhone pic round up), and I got the most amazing incense.
7. The famous marionette theater in Luxembourg Gardens. Matt saw The Three Little Pigs. (I stayed outside and enjoyed the gardens, which brings us to our next photo...)
8. Seriously, do make it to Luxembourg Gardens if you're in Paris. It is the most exquisite park I've ever visited. (And bonus: it costs zero Euro!)
9. Piece of crepe.
10. Leave it to the Parisians to turn a median strip into something beautiful.
11. One of the few pictures of us together! (At Versailles.)
12. The famous Ladurée. (Look closely and you'll see evidence of their unexpected partnership with Hello Kitty.)
13. On day two, Matt thought he was ordering French fries and was brought this: an apple tarte with a side of ice cream. Whoooops.
14. Louis XIV. This guy greets you as you walk into Versailles. What a host!
15. In the back room of the original Rose Bakery.
16. The cakes at Rose Bakery.
17. Hall of awesome at Versailles.
18. Obligatory Paris shot; a photo from the Versailles gardens that although he took, Matt doesn't like because "It looks like a Cialis ad." And: even the street lights in Paris are pretty.
19: These pigeons across from our apartment were as big as soccer balls.
20. Scary fish at the market.
21. Fact: all the chimneys in Paris wear bonnets.
22. A mini iPhone photo round up.

p.s. Bon Appétempt was nominated for a Saveur food blog award (Best Food Humor)! Thanks so much to those of you who nominated this little operation. Voting goes through April 26th, so head on over and vote for your favorites!

I'll see you next week with the video!

St. Michaels, Maryland: Part 2

"If we don't offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull. Our world becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder. Our eyes don't lift to the horizon; our ears don't hear the sounds around us. The edge is off our experience, and we pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting." - Kent Nerburn on traveling from Letters to my Son

For someone who begins the first moments of every morning with a bowl of Barbara’s brand cereal with original-flavored almond milk followed by a cup of strong coffee, mildly diluted with half and half and sugar, I can speak candidly about finding comfort in routine. And while I love to travel, I am also shamefully famous for on-the-road food-related tantrums like the time I woke up at a bed and breakfast in Ojai to discover that no breakfast basket had arrived at the door like it had the previous morning at eight o’clock sharp. I thought perhaps the breakfast folks were running late, so while Matt tried to sleep, I anxiously waited for thirty minutes before finally calling the front desk, only to receive the information that they delivered complimentary breakfasts on the weekend, and since it was Monday, there would be no breakfast. What did that even mean—there would be no breakfast? At this, I took the next logical step. I ran and leapt into the air, throwing myself in what Matt describes as a sloppy, swan dive onto the bed and buried my face in the pillow in such dramatic fashion that the memory of it still makes him laugh. Needless to say, driving across the country with me was also difficult on him. A scene at the Hampton Inn in Flagstaff comes to mind. No skim milk? Excuse me while I go upstairs and destroy my hotel room. 

But despite securing my breakfast staples at the beginning of this week’s vacation on the Chesapeake—“I’ll go to the grocery store! I don’t mind!”—I couldn’t help but feel hyper aware of all the ways that my world in this giant city of Los Angeles has indeed become very small. Starting with the east coast humidity. I grew up on the east coast and go home at least once a year but how quickly do I forget about that thick, hot air that kind of just lands on your skin and stays there indefinitely?

Then there were all the conversations and catching up at the wedding with all of Matt’s and my distant relatives we rarely get to see and whose lives are so rich and so different from ours. Speaking of different than ours, there was a smattering of b-a-b-i-e-s. While in Philadelphia for the wedding, I met up with my best friend from college who I hadn’t seen in over a year and who had just had her second baby a mere ten days earlier. It was so wonderful to see how she hasn’t changed a bit yet has this entire beautiful family at the same time. And then, we spent the week with our adorable nephew (whose toe point is highlighted in Part 1 of this wrap-up) and super cute niece, Isabel, who, plain as the eye can see, took to her aunt quite naturally.

I did, however, feel instantly comfortable in the enormous kitchen with the Viking range, granite countertops and dishwasher. So much so that when Matt and I left for the grocery store on the last day of vacation to shop for ingredients for dinner that night, we had only a vague game plan as to what we would make. We’d had the most amazing grilled rockfish at a local restaurant the previous night so we thought we might attempt that. If they had oysters, we thought we could grill those. Basically, we were very into the idea of grilling something, but we were comfortable with not knowing what that would be exactly. But then we arrived at Captain’s Ketch and the fresh jumbo lump crabmeat and the idea of some classic Maryland crab cakes called to us. (We would’ve had to catch a lot of crab to have acquired enough crabmeat to make one crab cake let alone enough to feed the seven of us.)

And so we returned home very nourished and with the edge back on our experiences—at least for the time being. We got in really late last Saturday night without enough energy to pick up either cereal or almond milk. Fortunately for everyone though, we did have some oatmeal and somehow, I managed to keep it together.


Crab Cakes adapted from recipe by Paula Deen
serves 8

2 pounds jumbo lump crabmeat
6 to 8 crackers, crushed
4 scallions (green and white parts), finely chopped
2-3 tablespoons of chives, finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 egg
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
1/2 lemon, juiced
1 teaspoon salt
fresh ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon seafood seasoning (The house came equipped with this tub of seasoning, which we taste-tested and feel semi-confident in saying that it was probably a mix of salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and cayenne.)
tartar sauce, for serving
olive oil

Directions
In a large bowl, mix together all ingredients except olive oil. Shape into patties. (We found that the smaller the patties, the more manageable they were to flip and keep from falling apart. I’d say to aim for a size slightly smaller than an English muffin.)

Heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat. When oil is hot, carefully place crab cakes, in batches, in pan and fry until browned, about 4 to 5 minutes. Carefully flip crab cakes and fry on other side until golden brown, about 4 minutes. Serve warm with tartar sauce.

St. Michaels, Maryland: Part 1

In terms of feeling better about life in general, let's face it, vacation works. So much so that I’d like to shoot a commercial for it. It'd be like one of those psuedo-spiritual, super general ads you watch and aren’t sure what’s being pitched until the very end when white letters appear over a calm scene and spell out Nike. Or Cotton. Or Cialis. But at the end of my commercial, that word would be vacation.
This vacation began with a wedding. These guys below? Why, they're the Manhattan boys, of course, pictured clutching their signature drink, The Manhattan.
The following morning it was onward and eastward to St. Michaels, Maryland where we would be staying for the week in a beautiful house sitting on a 160 acre farm on the Chesapeake Bay.

(This is what humidity looks like.)

When the owner of the house stopped by to show us how to use the fairly intense stereo system, he told us that he'd built the house so that the front faced the bay. Matt took the below photo from a kayak-in-motion. The place could probably be described as pretty, no?

Being on the Chesapeake, I had major designs on a crab-related attempt. In fact, that's what I'm thinking about here in my temporary Ina Garten-esque kitchen. So when the owner also told us about the crab pots at the end of our dock, Matt and my heads nearly exploded. You have what now? Tell us more. This sounds like a job for the Manhattan boys. Do you have bitters and a jigger of vermouth?

We quickly learned the ropes of dockside crabbing. Step 1: Purchase chicken necks. Step 2: Fill the pots with our newly acquired chicken necks. Step 3: Give the pots an overnight soak. Step 4: Check the pots early in the morning for terrapins. If you see a terrapin, set it free. No questions asked. Step 5: If you see crabs, grab them with gloved hands and put them in a green bucket, filled with bay water. Also, by no means kick in more than two pots—each dock is allowed two, any more and the professional crabbers will come by and cut your ropes!
This next part was the trickiest. We had to kill them. David Foster Wallace's essay, "Consider the Lobster" immediately came to mind. Namely, the part where he asks: "Is it all right to boil a sentient creature alive just for our gustatory pleasure?" Well, having been firmly faced with this task for the first time in my life, I can tell you that it certainly didn't feel all right, which is strange for any number of reasons, but particularly so considering that just the other week I basked in the retelling of the deliciousness of linguine and clams—fundamental to which, is the killing of live clams.

A few pages later, however, Foster Wallace offers this: "The whole animal-cruelty-and-eating issue is not just complex, it's also uncomfortable. It is, at any rate, uncomfortable for me, and for just about everyone I know who enjoys a variety of foods and yet does not want to see herself as cruel or unfeeling. As far as I can tell, my own main way of dealing with this conflict has been to avoid thinking about the whole unpleasant thing." And see, that's the problem with a live crab or lobster. The fact that they are moving and you are the one that is going to stop them from moving ever again makes this notion of you as a cruel or unfeeling person unavoidable. But if we want to eat them, we should, at least in some circumstances, be able to deal with this unpleasantness. Otherwise, we shouldn't be eating them at all, right?

In the end, we killed them. They didn't move around for long. And yes, they were delicious. And yes, it feels wrong to say that. However, I feel I've made some awkward strides in the never-ending journey of understanding the food I eat and where it comes from and tried my best to honor the lives of those blue crabs. Now, can we please talk about the corn? Oh, the corn! The Mexican-style roasted corn! I loved it so much.



There were so many reasons to love this corn. For starters, there was no moral dilemma tied to it. Secondly, it was covered in mayonnaise and topped with cheese, cilantro, chile powder, and lime juice. It was both indulgent and fresh-tasting at the same time, and our amazingly cute nephew, Henry, unexpectedly boasted a perfect toe point during the grilling process.

So much more to come. Stay tuned for St. Michaels, Maryland: Part 2!

Mexican-Style Roasted Corn via Saveur
serves 4

4 large ears corn, with husks still attached
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 1/2 cups crumbled cotija cheese (We substituted shredded cheddar.)
4 tbsp. minced fresh cilantro
4 tsp. ancho chile powder
Kosher salt and freshly ground black
pepper, to taste
1 lime, cut into four wedges

1. Working with one ear of corn at a time, peel back the husks to expose the kernels, leaving husks attached at the base; remove the silk threads and tie husks together with kitchen twine around base of cob to form a handle. Repeat with remaining ears. (We didn't do this step and it turned out all right.) Transfer corn to a large bowl or pot of water and let soak for 30 minutes. FYI: this includes the husks! (We only soaked the corn and the husks kept catching fire on the grill.)

2. Build a medium-hot fire in a charcoal grill or heat a gas grill over medium-high heat. Transfer corn to grill; cook, turning occasionally, until charred and cooked through, about 20 minutes. Remove corn from grill and brush with mayonnaise. Place cheese on a plate and roll each ear of corn in cheese to coat. Sprinkle corn evenly with some of the cilantro, chile powder, and salt and pepper, pressing the corn so that seasonings and cheese will adhere to the mayonnaise. Serve with lime wedges.