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By SAM SIFTON
Published: March 17, 2009
The restaurateur Lou Amdur was leaning over his bar the other day at Lou, in Hollywood, uncorking some biodynamic deliciousness made in a French garage and talking about a few of the experiments he had going in his home up in the hills. Some weirdly flavored vinegars. Absinthe. House-cured bacon in the kitchen of the wine bar, a few pots of pork rillettes. It all sounded complicated and fantastic — a portrait of a food artist at work. Amdur shook his head. “None of this is art,” he said. “It’s craft. And craft isn’t all that hard. You can learn to do it.”
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Related
Recipes: Fish Tacos (March 22, 2009)
Zachary Zavislak for The New York Times. Plate and white bowl: Global Table.
He was being modest. Amdur is a talented cook, in addition to being a wine guy of the first order (and the husband of Manohla Dargis, a chief film critic of The Times). But he was not wrong. As he went on to say, art is to craft as brain surgery is to a butcher’s work. Art is genius, or magic. Craft is observation and research multiplied by practice. It’s learnable by anyone.
Put another way, in the context of this space: you can learn to cook fish at home, if you ask the right people how to do it.
Dave Pasternack is the right people. He is the chef and an owner of Esca, in the theater district of Manhattan. He has an affinity for cooking fish that approaches the surreal. You might give him a barnacle, a grouper liver and three grains of sea salt, only to have him return to your side with a plate of food good enough to make you laugh out loud. His skill is that of an alchemist, or a magician. But unlike such characters, Pasternack also knows how to teach technique. The success of his restaurant is dependent on that ability. If a piece of monkfish is ethereal when he makes it for the lunchtime rush, it better be when the young cook he hired makes it at dinner, too. That’s how restaurants work. Consistency matters. It’s the most important thing. And it can be taught.
Today’s sermon is a recipe for fish tacos, that great meal of the Baja Peninsula, a taste of summer in spring. It benefits from time spent at Pasternack’s elbow, from the tacos served at, among other places, El Siete Mares taco stand on the eastern end of Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles and from practice runs in a Brooklyn home kitchen. They are simple to make, no more complicated in fact than a hamburger or a mess of pancakes, and they are considerably more flavorful.
Really. Here is the Sunday exhortation: You’re going to make fish at home, it’s going to be easy and it’s not going to take up your day or destroy your kitchen. The recipe is going to work. Trust the process. That’s Pasternack Rule No. 1. You’ve got to get over the fear.
“The first thing you want to do,” he said in the kitchen after lunch, “is you want to find a thick fillet of fish. You want a nice, thick fillet so you can develop the color and the crust.” Pasternack speaks in a soft Long Island bark that turns any conversation into an intimacy, a prelude to something possibly criminal and certainly fun. “Ask for the large,” he continued. “They have large in the back. They always do.”
What kind of fish in particular? For tacos, something fresh and white and firm. Emphasis on the fresh. Out in the cold waters off Montauk, the cod bite is on and the flatties are coming soon: big doormat flounder caught on hooks and line. Montauk snowshoes, they call these monsters, and if you see them in the market, it’s time to make tacos. That’s Pasternack Rule No. 2: Buying the fish is half the battle.
Rule No 3: Crust is crucial. You want, at home, a fish taco that has the crunch and texture of the deep-fried version available at the beach in Ensenada, though with better flavor and less mess.
Let us return, then, to our thick fillet, now dredged in seasoned flour. Pasternack, as if talking to a dishwasher out of Puebla he has just promoted to a job in front of a stove: “You want to make sure the bottom of your pan is completely covered in fat. It’s on a medium flame. You add a pat of butter for flavor, and you put the fillet in the pan. You turn it to medium high, and you watch it cook until it turns a deep golden brown on the bottom. That’s like three, four minutes. Then you turn it. A minute later, you take it out, put it on paper towels, season it with a little salt.”
This works, and how. You could do it with cod or char, and kings would cross mountains to honor you. But with flounder the goals are more modest. Fried in strips and served onboard warm corn tortillas with a simple salsa, a pinch of fresh cabbage, plenty of lime and a cream sauce you might want to punch up with some chopped chipotle, these fish tacos can turn a cold March night into bluebird summer, transporting you from spring chill into deep humidity and bliss.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Blog Stew
Yesterday was the last full day of winter and it was 75 degrees today.
Also, remember, when you die your not gonna say “wow, I wish I would have spent more time working”. So ……….
Saturday I’m going to New Orleans and I know it’s gonna be hot. I’m taking nothing but white cloths. I’m taking white linen pants, over sized white cotton shirts, white “v” neck tee shirts and white buck shoes. I don’t wear hats much, else I’d find a nice white hat to sport.
Tonight Stacey and I are going to a fund raiser for the ISAW/UAPO foundations. Click on it to learn more about it. There will be a auction and a dinner. I donated this painting to the auction.
Also, remember, when you die your not gonna say “wow, I wish I would have spent more time working”. So ……….
Saturday I’m going to New Orleans and I know it’s gonna be hot. I’m taking nothing but white cloths. I’m taking white linen pants, over sized white cotton shirts, white “v” neck tee shirts and white buck shoes. I don’t wear hats much, else I’d find a nice white hat to sport.
Tonight Stacey and I are going to a fund raiser for the ISAW/UAPO foundations. Click on it to learn more about it. There will be a auction and a dinner. I donated this painting to the auction.
How’s ya Brackets
March Madness is here. I love it. I bet I don’t watch one game all year til March. When the tournament starts I watch every game I can. I love it and I always fill out a bracket. I was 12 and 4 yesterday, but the first round is fairly easy. It will get tough in the second round and guessing, like I do, ain’t gonna get. But, it’s fun to do anyway.
I just finished these two paintings last week. everyone loves the Hank Williams painting, no one commented on the American Flag Pig. Go figure.
I have mentioned before how I love thrift shops. Well look at what I found yesterday. The black shoes are Gripfast, made in England, they retail for $150, I paid 8.99. The brown shoes are made by Rockport and I don’t know what they retail for, but I paid 10.99 for them. Both pair are like new, I can’t believe how lucky I got. I’m as happy as a little girl.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
NOLA Revisited
I could go again and again and again and……. but you get the idea. If your like me and you like old things, good food, strange people, good music and cool bars than ya gotta love New Orleans. We are on our way back there this Saturday. To see the Mardi Gras Indians again. It will be only our second time to see the Indian gangs and their scouts and fly boys. Last year the uptown Indians were the only gang to parade, this year we get to see the Downtown parade. I hope so any way because it’s hard to get info on the Indians and they do what they want when they want. They have no parade permit, they have no set route, they have no set date. This makes it kind of hard to find them. We are actually very lucky this year. I thought they would parade the first Sunday after St. Joesph day, which I think is this Sunday the 22nd. But I read in the New Orleans News Paper, online of coarse, that they were due to parade last Sunday and got rained out. So we’ve been planning on this weekend for a while and had the date wrong the whole time. Good thing. That’s Wabi Sabi for ya right there.
At this point I have no idea where we will eat. This is a huge decision. It requires lot’s of research. I’ve been using the New Orleans news paper, TheTimesPicayune, for that research as well. There is tons of info on food and drink and where to get it. Currently there is both a bar and a dining guide offering hundreds of places. And I love reading about all these restaurants. New Orleans has got to be one of the best food cities in the world. I had some idea of where I thought I would like to eat, but after reading some of the dining guide I now have no idea. I do know I want to go to Tujague’s for a bloody mary, maybe some food.
We are also going to try and see Spencer Bohren play at the botanical gardens Sunday evening. The gardens are in city park and we have never been there. The park looks really large on the map. Mr. Bohren is a musician with a very interesting background. You should click on his name and read a little about him. The last time I heard him was about 30 years ago at a little bar named Judge Roy Bean. It was in Montrose, Al. and a friend in high school had a brother who ran the place. We were in high school, drinking free Heineken’s, listening to Spencer Bohren sing and play all these old, beautiful guitars. Those were the day’s!
This is a photo taken by Stacey. It is from the uptown Indian Parade we went to last year. I think I may try and paint this guy.
At this point I have no idea where we will eat. This is a huge decision. It requires lot’s of research. I’ve been using the New Orleans news paper, TheTimesPicayune, for that research as well. There is tons of info on food and drink and where to get it. Currently there is both a bar and a dining guide offering hundreds of places. And I love reading about all these restaurants. New Orleans has got to be one of the best food cities in the world. I had some idea of where I thought I would like to eat, but after reading some of the dining guide I now have no idea. I do know I want to go to Tujague’s for a bloody mary, maybe some food.
We are also going to try and see Spencer Bohren play at the botanical gardens Sunday evening. The gardens are in city park and we have never been there. The park looks really large on the map. Mr. Bohren is a musician with a very interesting background. You should click on his name and read a little about him. The last time I heard him was about 30 years ago at a little bar named Judge Roy Bean. It was in Montrose, Al. and a friend in high school had a brother who ran the place. We were in high school, drinking free Heineken’s, listening to Spencer Bohren sing and play all these old, beautiful guitars. Those were the day’s!
This is a photo taken by Stacey. It is from the uptown Indian Parade we went to last year. I think I may try and paint this guy.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Brittany’s Thoughts from Uganda
As many of you know, our close friend, colleague, and UAPO Founder Brittany Merill is in Uganda right now. She sent an email yesterday that read like a stream of consciouness journal entry and I had to share it. This is such a beautiful sentiment on life and makes me long for Africa! Thanks, Britt.
We are winding through the green hills of southwestern Uganda in a race to reach the city by nightfall. Our car teeters on a steep ridge allowing short glimpses of villages buried in the handprints of small mountains. The hazy orange sun flights to prove his colors stretch across the sky. Rolling farms resemble a tapestry of colored strands with blue sky and brown straw huts. Smells of fresh fruit, clean air, and raw earth fill our car as it plunges deep into a valley decorated with miles of banana plantations. As the sun flights to find us, branches of banana tress turn electric green with its light. It is a sight that can only be properly voiced by Hemmingway and Churchill.
As I flight to get the windows down, I notice scratches covering the palms of my hands down to my knees. Wonderful battle wounds from a weekend spent exploring unturned rocks, waterfalls, and watering holes of the Nile. In a weekend romp, we played under a tapestry of stars, slept in bandas, ate roasted pig, and read under Jackurunda trees. It was if we had landed in a deserted jungle that beckoned us to discover its secrets.
Cool air rushes through the banana plantations, wisps strands of hair across my face, and makes it way into my heart. It whispers beautiful things and fills my spirit with hope. It took leaving the city to remind me of the intoxicating beauty of Africa.
At the same moment U2 sings, “grace finds beauty in everything.” Beauty in the struggle and beauty in the triumph… in the difficulty and the purpose… in spectacular scenery and even in refugee camps.
I feel an incredible range of emotions when I am in Uganda. Exhausted but filled. Frustrated but exhilarated. Lonely but loved. I have learned that whatever emotions may exist- I always feel deeply human and alive. I am reminded that with all the difficulties that come with my work, I am living a grand adventure… and most importantly, I am living.
I have followed my dreams, taken risks, lived boldly, failed miserably, cried, laughed, and loved deeply. I have experienced the touch of the divine, shared food with orphans, danced with widows, and seen beauty unspeakable. I have fought for justice, felt defeated, tired, and frustrated. I have also felt rare joy, witnessed answered prayers, achieved the impossible, and watched love change my heart.
I think about the rest of my life… How many hours do I have left? What will they bring? How will I use them?
“God grant me the courage to change the things I can…”
Today we leave for the refugee camps in Northern Uganda. Once again I feel totally incapable and even lack the desire to go. How will we bring hope to such a dark place? What dangers await us? Do we have the ability to transform a refugee community? How will I stay there for five days? And then I hear the words that have spoken so clearly to my heart over the last five years and given me the audacity for such tasks. “I will always go where you go. I’ll give you a full life in the emptiest of places- firm muscles, strong bones. You will be like a well-watered garden, a gurgling spring that never runs dry. You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundations from out of your past. You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate, make the community livable again.” -Isaiah 58
Fear is normal and can be overcome. The most important things in life cause us to risk humiliation and failure. Have the courage to live. To love. To pray. It is in these things, however difficult the journey may be to find them, that we experience life… and life was designed to be lived.
“In different times and different ways, our heavenly father offers us a simple proposition; Follow me beyond what you can control, beyond where your own strength and competencies can take you, and beyond what is affirmed or risked by the crowd- and you will experience me and my power and my wisdom and my love.” – Garry A. Haugen, CEO International Justice Mission
This journey has taught me to live deeply… from my heart, my mind, my body, and my spirit. If I believe, I will always find my way.
Grace finds beauty in everything because God is a part of it all and has the ability to restore the darkest of places and even the darkest of hearts.
My prayer is to restore beauty and hope to a war-zone. It is a lofty goal but I have to believe that with grace it is possible. If he can change a heart like mine- how much more difficult will it be to transform a small community?
But even if we fail, I have been reminded that grace and beauty can truly be found in any corner of the word and in the crevasses of the heart.
Hold me in your hearts the next several days…
Brittany
We are winding through the green hills of southwestern Uganda in a race to reach the city by nightfall. Our car teeters on a steep ridge allowing short glimpses of villages buried in the handprints of small mountains. The hazy orange sun flights to prove his colors stretch across the sky. Rolling farms resemble a tapestry of colored strands with blue sky and brown straw huts. Smells of fresh fruit, clean air, and raw earth fill our car as it plunges deep into a valley decorated with miles of banana plantations. As the sun flights to find us, branches of banana tress turn electric green with its light. It is a sight that can only be properly voiced by Hemmingway and Churchill.
As I flight to get the windows down, I notice scratches covering the palms of my hands down to my knees. Wonderful battle wounds from a weekend spent exploring unturned rocks, waterfalls, and watering holes of the Nile. In a weekend romp, we played under a tapestry of stars, slept in bandas, ate roasted pig, and read under Jackurunda trees. It was if we had landed in a deserted jungle that beckoned us to discover its secrets.
Cool air rushes through the banana plantations, wisps strands of hair across my face, and makes it way into my heart. It whispers beautiful things and fills my spirit with hope. It took leaving the city to remind me of the intoxicating beauty of Africa.
At the same moment U2 sings, “grace finds beauty in everything.” Beauty in the struggle and beauty in the triumph… in the difficulty and the purpose… in spectacular scenery and even in refugee camps.
I feel an incredible range of emotions when I am in Uganda. Exhausted but filled. Frustrated but exhilarated. Lonely but loved. I have learned that whatever emotions may exist- I always feel deeply human and alive. I am reminded that with all the difficulties that come with my work, I am living a grand adventure… and most importantly, I am living.
I have followed my dreams, taken risks, lived boldly, failed miserably, cried, laughed, and loved deeply. I have experienced the touch of the divine, shared food with orphans, danced with widows, and seen beauty unspeakable. I have fought for justice, felt defeated, tired, and frustrated. I have also felt rare joy, witnessed answered prayers, achieved the impossible, and watched love change my heart.
I think about the rest of my life… How many hours do I have left? What will they bring? How will I use them?
“God grant me the courage to change the things I can…”
Today we leave for the refugee camps in Northern Uganda. Once again I feel totally incapable and even lack the desire to go. How will we bring hope to such a dark place? What dangers await us? Do we have the ability to transform a refugee community? How will I stay there for five days? And then I hear the words that have spoken so clearly to my heart over the last five years and given me the audacity for such tasks. “I will always go where you go. I’ll give you a full life in the emptiest of places- firm muscles, strong bones. You will be like a well-watered garden, a gurgling spring that never runs dry. You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundations from out of your past. You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate, make the community livable again.” -Isaiah 58
Fear is normal and can be overcome. The most important things in life cause us to risk humiliation and failure. Have the courage to live. To love. To pray. It is in these things, however difficult the journey may be to find them, that we experience life… and life was designed to be lived.
“In different times and different ways, our heavenly father offers us a simple proposition; Follow me beyond what you can control, beyond where your own strength and competencies can take you, and beyond what is affirmed or risked by the crowd- and you will experience me and my power and my wisdom and my love.” – Garry A. Haugen, CEO International Justice Mission
This journey has taught me to live deeply… from my heart, my mind, my body, and my spirit. If I believe, I will always find my way.
Grace finds beauty in everything because God is a part of it all and has the ability to restore the darkest of places and even the darkest of hearts.
My prayer is to restore beauty and hope to a war-zone. It is a lofty goal but I have to believe that with grace it is possible. If he can change a heart like mine- how much more difficult will it be to transform a small community?
But even if we fail, I have been reminded that grace and beauty can truly be found in any corner of the word and in the crevasses of the heart.
Hold me in your hearts the next several days…
Brittany
Monday, March 9, 2009
Mardi Gras Furniture
For the last two years I have been given wood from a Mardi Gras float that was gonna be rebuilt. I have used the lumber in lot’s of project, the latest is an order for a beach house on the Gulf Coast. Here are a couple photos.
This is heavy duty furniture. The table is 72″ in diameter and 1 and 3/4 ” thick. The lumber comes from a house at the corner of 7th and Penn ave. in Midtown, Atlanta. I got a call from a friend and he and his crew were the guy’s charged with replacing the top of this house, rebuilding it, if you will. I think a tree fell on it, I’m not sure. I am sure it is old lumber, the house is a 100 years old, easy. I got a lot of 2 X 8’s and some 1″ X 6″ lumber. I used that and the rough cut pine, from the Mardi Gras float to do 90% of this job.The bed has a lot of float wood used in it.
Next up is 2 commissioned paintings and a swing and maybe a bed . So once again….. there are a few more pieces in this order I will finish them and post a photot of them soon.
This is heavy duty furniture. The table is 72″ in diameter and 1 and 3/4 ” thick. The lumber comes from a house at the corner of 7th and Penn ave. in Midtown, Atlanta. I got a call from a friend and he and his crew were the guy’s charged with replacing the top of this house, rebuilding it, if you will. I think a tree fell on it, I’m not sure. I am sure it is old lumber, the house is a 100 years old, easy. I got a lot of 2 X 8’s and some 1″ X 6″ lumber. I used that and the rough cut pine, from the Mardi Gras float to do 90% of this job.The bed has a lot of float wood used in it.
Next up is 2 commissioned paintings and a swing and maybe a bed . So once again….. there are a few more pieces in this order I will finish them and post a photot of them soon.
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