I’ve been travelling to Atlanta with my job for StarChefs.com, eating with some of the city’s best chefs, pastry chefs, mixologist, sommeliers, brewers, and baristas. And guess what? I love Atlanta! From the Southern charm to the not-to-cool hipster esthetic (a refreshing break for the sometimes overkill of Williamsburg), I’ve thoroughly enjoyed traipsing around this town with Editor-in-Chief Antoinette Bruno. And I can’t wait to head back in June to celebrate our latest class of culinary rock stars at the StarChefs.com Rising Stars Gala at the eclectic Goat Farm Arts Center.

And although we’re putting the spotlight on our Rising Stars, there was something about every one of the nearly 80 tastings that Antoinette and I loved—a clever flavor combination, an interesting technique, an out-of-this-world dessert, or a rich, complex beer. Justin Burdett, the chef de cuisine at Miller Union, was just one of the chefs who wowed us during our trips, and I can’t get his creative dish of fresh carrot juice and oysters out of my head. Lightly seasoned, it’s a refreshing riff on an oyster shooter. And it didn’t hurt that Burdett finished the dish with one of my personal favorite garnishes, celery leaves, for an added brightness.

My version, an ode to Burdett’s creativity, swaps out the oysters for shaved radish, beets, and carrots. It’s a simple, refreshing amuse buche or cool spring soup that brings a little bit of my newfound ATL love to any meal.

Shaved Vegetables and Carrot Jus, inspired by Miller Union Chef de Cuisine Justin Burdett
Serves: 4
2 tablespoons grapeseed oil
2 tablespoons Champagne vinegar
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup carrots, julienned
¼ cup radishes, julienned
¼ cup beets, julienned
1 cup carrot juice, lightly seasoned
Celery leaves

Whisk the oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper together. Toss with the carrots, beets, and radishes. Bunch the vegetables into piles and place into bowls. Pour carrot juice into bowls. Lightly dress celery leaves with remaining oil mixture and garnish with celery leaves.

This month I convinced the lovely rEATers group to dive in, head first, to one of my absolute favorite food author’s of all time: Jeffery Steingarten. As writer for Vogue, Steingarten devotes much of his time to dissecting all things food. His first book, The Man Who Ate Everything, is a collection of his essays for the magazine and discusses everything from the vegan diet and the wide variety of water types to front-of-the-house finishing school.

Some of the books more interesting topics­—the nitty gritties on ketchup, or themed restaurants—seem to be more Steingarten’s own fancy than perhaps those of his fashionista audience. But chatting about the why of Steingarten (why a Harvard lawyer is writing about food in the fashion magazine), rEATers discussed the sensibilities needed to be a lawyer—the intuitive, argumentative nature that is required of a lawyer prepared to win his case. These are the same qualities Steingarten brings to each essay, showing his reader—no matter how educated they may (or may not be) on the topic—the full story. Armed with Steingarten’s information, the reader can may make their own judgment, whether it be on Evian and Perrier, or Heinz and homemade. Inspired by Steingarten and our talk, I cooked up a batch of my own homemade ketchup (although tomatoes aren’t yet in season, so my recipe is altered a bit with canned tomatoes). I hope you enjoy, and if you haven’t read the book, it’s a must read!

Homemade Ketchup, adapted from Saveur, Issue #12
Serves: 4 cups

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and diced
1 clove garlic, peeled and minced
1 cinnamon stick
1 28-ounce can tomato purée
2 tablespoon dark brown sugar
½ cup cider vinegar
2 teaspoons herbs de Provence
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
¼ teaspoon cayenne
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
Celery leaves
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

In a medium-sized sauce pot, heat the olive oil. Sauté the onion over medium heat until translucent, then add the garlic and cinnamon stick and continue cooking until aromatic. Add the tomato purée, brown sugar, and vinegar and bring to a simmer. Place the herbs in a piece of cheesecloth, tie with butchers twine, and add to the liquid. Continue to cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, for 45 minutes, until thick.

Remove spice satchel and cinnamon stick and pulse purée in a food processor. Strain, season with salt and pepper, and store refrigerated for up to one month.

Wow, it has been quite the busy past two weeks! I’ve been on the road with StarChefs.com, eating my way through Atlanta, and unfortunately too busy for La Vita Cucinare. But luckily, I’m finally all settled back in New York City. And what better time to talk about menu planning than after I’ve just spent eight days eating and drinking at six restaurants a day (I know, best job on Earth!). I’m certainly ready to get back to some good home cooking!

When I was a kid, my mother had a meal calendar that she used to plan each week, including my Dad’s favorites­—beef stroganoff, chili, tacos—and a few dishes my sister and I loved—Chinese sweet-and-sour meatballs and chicken Parmesan. While I can still remember the little square piece of paper she would pencil dish titles onto, I never thought to create a meal plan of my own. Trips to the market have always been more of a lazy stroll, as I imagined the feasts I could prepare during the week. Occasionally I planned out dinners or parties, and went shopping grocery list in hand, but more often then not, shopping has been altogether impromptu.

But a few weeks ago, after realizing that my move to New York has resulted in way too many take-out and restaurant grub sessions (embarrassingly sometimes breakfast, lunch, and dinner!), I decided to take matters into my own hands and cook everything I ate for an entire week. And thus I realized the secret of menu planning. Starting off with a little inspiration from The Kitchn’s Roast Chicken menu, I devised a resourceful menu, and then only spent $90 on groceries, much less than my take-out bills usually add up to. (It did help that I was only cooking for one, as TH was out of town the whole week.)

I began with a roast chicken, eating chicken breast, chicken salad, and chicken soup—one bird, five meals! Then came braised pork loin for dinner, which once shredded also turned into barbecue sandwiches and tacos. My new favorite sandwich, pan-fried tofu with spicy mayo, made an easy lunch to bring along to work. And to end off the week, I made this pretty quiche for a friend’s brunch party. Of course eating at all of New York’s fabulous restaurants is part of the fun of living here, but every once in a while, it’s great to challenge yourself with a week of home-cooked meals. And a reminder of how easy it is, especially when armed with a plan!

Leek and Spinach Quiche, adapted from Food+Wine December 2011
Serves 6-8

For the pastry:
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1½ sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
½ cup ice water

For the filling:
1 leek, carefully washed and thinly sliced
½ cup spinach, thinly sliced
Salt
Black pepper
¼ cup melted butter
¼ cup water
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
4 egg yolks
4 egg whites

For the pastry:
Combine the flour, salt, and pepper in a medium bowl. Use two forks or a pastry cutter to cut the cold butter into the dry ingredients until it is pebble sized. Slowly pour in the water and mix together until a dough starts to forms. Turn onto a work surface, knead two or three times, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for one hour.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a 12-inch circle. Fit into a 11-inch pie or tart pan and trim the overhang. Refrigerate for 20 minutes.

Preheat over to 375°F. Line the tart shell with aluminum foil and baking beans or pie wrights. Bake for 50 minutes, until golden, then remove weights and continue baking for 25 minutes longer. Transfer to a rack to cool, for about 10 minutes, while preparing filling.

For the filling:
Sauté the leeks over medium heat until translucent. Add the spinach and cook until just wilted. Season well with salt and freshly ground pepper.

Combine the butter, water, cheese, and egg yolks in a medium bowl. Add the leek-spinach mixture and stir to combine. In a separate bowl, whip the whites to soft peaks. Add 1/3 of the whites to the filling, combine, then gently fold in the rest of the whites. Pour the filling into the shell. Bake for 35 minutes until golden. Cool 10 minutes and serve.

Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures

When I was just starting college and knew very little about food, I suggested to my still good friend Aaron that we have a lunch date at a sushi buffet. His response was utter horror and an explanation of disgust at the thought of less than fresh raw fish. After watching Jiro Dreams of Sushi, you may never be able to dine at any sushi restaurant again, save for Sukiyabashi Jiro, the 10-seat eatery found in a Tokyo subway station that’s currently swept up the foodie nation.

I’m not sure anyone (at least in the food world), has yet to see the Magnolia Pictures production, but if you haven’t managed to make it to this captivating film yet, I fully insist you catch it. The movie profiles 85-year-old Jiro Ono, renowned sushi master and chef of the first three-starred Michelin sushi restaurant. Wide-spanning, sensual shots of sushi combine with the details of Jiro and his two sons’ lives, telling the passion and dedication required to reach a level of true perfection.

On many levels, Jiro can be hard to understand. At 85, he is unwilling to retire, so dedicated to his world he cannot imagine doing anything but running his restaurant day after day, even as his 65-year-old son Yoshikazu Ono should step up to take his place. For many people, this kind of all consuming passion is a foreign concept. As Jiro says, “Once you decide on your occupation, you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill. That’s the secret of success and is the key to being regarded honorably.” Most people are more interested in making money quickly, and then working as few hours as possible, enjoying life’s pleasures rather than enjoying their work.

But Jiro’s thinking is such the life of a chef, the life of the kitchen: to work hard, long hours in order to reach perfection. Study any great chef today and you will find the same common thread, the quiet demeanor, hard-working mentality that is necessary for success. No great chef has ever wanted to get rich quick, and if they mistakenly did—after peeling carrots as a stagiaire or pulling 15-hour shifts—they quickly realized this was not kitchen life.

But the world of the kitchen can be all consuming. For a chef truly dedicated to there craft, (as in many other fields) there is often time for little else. There are moments when I think hesitantly at the seriousness with which I take my chosen profession—it is just food after all. For all the options in the world, I have chosen to devote my life to writing and educating about food in a very serious way. The people that know me well know that I live, breath, sleep, and of course, eat, what I do. I could be writing about politics or economics or science, but I have chosen food as my cause, my way of storytelling. I have a feeling that that saying of Jiro’s will be oft repeated and it hit home practically hard with me. I’m in love with food and the story of people through food, but I’m still falling in “love with my work.”

While the movie’s imagery of sushi is enthralling and very tempting (make reservations at the very best sushi restaurant you can for after the show!), and the story of Jiro’s temple is quite interesting, in the end, Jiro Dreams of Sushi is really about awakening the passion we all have inside us. It’s that push, the voice inside telling us to do what we love, to be completely dedicated to an art and to a craft. It’s a bit scary, and also quite wonderful, to question if we are passionate enough at what we do, and in the world of escapism and materialism, doesn’t happen nearly enough.

Also,  I’d like to say congratulations to Britt T., who won my Preservation Kitchen giveaway! Thanks to everyone who posted comments and to Kate Leahy for her interview and copy of the book!

I’ve had a thing for tiki drinks lately. San Francisco’s Smuggler’s Cove is by far one of my favorite bars, and I’ve been itching for a trip to New York’s Lani Kai since I arrived in September. So when my good friend Matthew invited us to his housewarming party a few weeks ago, my mind shot directly to making a pitcher of sunny tropical drinks to share. It didn’t hurt that I was also reading Bon Appetit’s March issue at the time, and was inspired by the simple and lovely Queen’s Park  Swizzle.

Starting out, I infused some dark rum with orange zest and cinnamon overnight. To that I added simple syrup, lime juice, and mint. The recipe also calls for orgeat, an almond-infused syrup used heavily in tiki concoctions. I didn’t have time to whip up a batch, and my local bar store was out, but Bittermens Elemakule Tiki Bitters (infused with cinnamon, allspice, and paprika) made a lovely replacement. Swirl the mixture around and pour over crushed ice, and you have a slightly sweet, spicy, and tart cocktail. And our ever-expanding bar continued to grow with the addition of a few bar staples–Peychaud’s and Angostura–used to top of the drink with a bright red flourish. Garnish with mint and a long straw, and you have tiki magic. Light and floral, it’s a great way to celebrate, housewarmings or the coming sunshine!

Queen’s Park Sqizzle, adapted from Bon Appetit March 2012
6 to 8 servings

3 cinnamon sticks
3 pieces anise
1 orange
3 cups cup spiced rum
2½ cups simple syrup
1 cup fresh lime juice
1 handful mint sprigs
10 dashes tiki bitters
10 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
5 dash Angostura bitters
750 ml sparkling water

Heat the cinnamon and anise in a small pan over medium heat until aromatic. Place in a large container and pour the rum into the spices. Zest the orange, and add to the rum. Let steep overnight.

Gently muddle the rum, simple syrup, lime juice, tiki bitters, and mint sprigs. Pour into a pitcher, and add the Peychaud’s and Angostura bitters. (For an individual serving, I added these last, in the traditional manner. For a pitcher primed for a party, I added the bitters to the batch.) Top off with soda water. Serve in glasses filled with crushed ice.

And it’s no wonder the booze part is right­­­. Partners Tom Potter and Allen Katz have years of experience in the business: Potter co-founded Brooklyn Brewery in 1987 and Katz is the director of Spirits Education and Mixology for Southern Wine & Spirits of New York. Distilling in urban New York is steeped in history (the earliest stills in Brooklyn date back to the 1700s), and Potter and Katz formed the company as a premiere craft distillery much in the same tradition and craft. The company currently produces two varieties of gin—the Dorothy Parker, blended with elderberries and hibiscus, and the Perry’s Tot, an aromatic over-proof Navy Strength gin.

While The Shanty serves their traditional Tom Collins and Gin and Tonics with the Perry’s Tot, we particularly liked the Sauvetage, a bright drink made with the more floral Dorothy Parker. A refreshing sip, the drink combines Carpano Antica sweet vermouth, tart grapefruit juice and a bit of spice from Bittermen’s Amère Nouvelle. And while the gin drinks were easy to drink and enjoy, I’m especially excited that the company is currently working on an American Rye Whiskey. As if anyone needed another reason to hang out in Williamsburg.

The Details:
The Shanty
79 Richardson Street, Brooklyn NY
718-878-3579
http://nydistilling.com
Open nightly from 5pm-2am

Say “I love you” with a sweet bite of almond and pumpkin seed toffee.

Valentine’s Day­—whether thought of as a day for honoring a Christian martyr or an excuse for greeting card companies to pump out pink and red lovable gifts­—is all about love. Loving your family, your friends, your sweetie, and yourself, it’s a day set aside to say I love you to everyone who needs to hear it. Going out of your way to be nice is the easiest way to make someone else feel wonderful, it comes along with that little burst of feel-goodness, and best of all, it doesn’t cost a thing. As lovely as fancy or thoughtful gifts are, the gift of a smile, a friendly conversation, or a happy hug can go a long way to making someone feel great, and I like to think that’s what Valentine’s Day really is all about.

Another reason why I love Valentine’s Day? There is no hiding that I have a massive sweet tooth, and toffee is pretty high on my list of favorites. This recipe is easy to put together, a great way to use up extra nuts or flavorings, and makes a lovely gift, no matter what the occasion. So whether you are making sure your partner, your sister, or your best friend knows you love them today, perhaps we can all take a lesson from Valentine’s Day, and remember to let them know it more often, with sweet gifts of candy and by remembering to say I love you more often.

Orange Chocolate Toffee, adapted from Comparte’s
10 to 12 servings

16 ounces butter
1 cup white sugar
1 cup dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon corn syrup
1 orange, zest and juice
1 cup toasted almonds, chopped
1 cup toasted pumpkin seeds, chopped
1 vanilla bean
1 teaspoon Maldon salt
16 ounces bittersweet chocolate

1. Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat. Combine the sugars, corn syrup, and orange zest in bowl. Add to the the melted butter and stir well, then add the orange juice.

2. Cook the mixture over medium heat until the toffee reaches 240°F. Add the nuts and pumpkin seeds, reserving 1/4 cup total for garnishing, and scrape the seeds from the vanilla bean into the mixture. Lower the heat at 260°F and continue cooking to 300°F, stirring occasionally and being careful not to burn the toffee. The total process should take between 15 to 20 minutes, and the mixture should be bubbly and golden brown.

3. At  300°F turn off the heat and pour the toffee onto a sheet pan with a non-stick liner or parchment. Use a spatula to evenly smooth out.

4. Temper the chocolate. Pour chocolate on top of the hard toffee and use an offset spatula to cover the entire surface. Sprinkle the remaining nuts, pumpkin seeds and salt on top. Allow to set completely, then break into pieces and serve.

Earthy flavors – fresh herbs, roasted vegetables – beg for winter’s fire.

Cold winter days just scream for the kind of  soul warming recipes that keep wanderers heading to Provence and Tuscany year after year. While winter 2012 has certainly been on the mild side so far, a simple roasted chicken is just the thing to warm up the kitchen, even without snow. Combining ease with rich flavor, it’s a great dinner party standby, and the white bean ragut is one of those staples you should always have around – I love a quick kale or radish greens sauté finished off with the creamy beans.

For a girl on the constant run, this is an easy meal to throw together on a lazy Sunday evening and then nibble on for lunch throughout the week. Soaking the beans makes for an extra step, but they have so much more flavor when cooked from scratch. Whether you are looking to impress a group (pair the chicken with a Châteauneuf-du-Pape perhaps), or just want to enjoy this recipe for simplicity’s sake, it’s one to keep around for sure.

White Bean Ragut and Roasted Chicken
4 to 6 servings

For the White Bean Ragut:
1 cup dried navy or cannelloni beans
3 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 carrot, minced
1 celery stalk, minced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 slices thick-cut bacon, diced
2 tablespoons tomato paste
½ teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Salt and pepper
½ cup fresh parsley

For the Roasted Chicken:
1 whole chicken
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
1 carrot, rough chopped
1 onion, rough chopped
2 stalks celery, rough chopped
Fresh herbs, including parsley and thyme

1. Cover the beans with water and soak overnight. Drain, rinse and cover again with water. Salt the water, add the 3 garlic cloves and simmer for 40 to 45 minutes, until tender. Drain, reserving cooking liquid.

2. Preheat the oven to 450°F. Rinse the chicken thoroughly, pat dry, and season well with olive oil, salt and pepper. Place the vegetables in the bottom of a roasting pan, neatly tuck the chicken on top (or use butcher twine to truss it) and put the herbs in the cavity of the chicken. Cook for 50 to 60 minutes, until golden brown and fully cooked. Use any juice to baste the chicken and let it rest for 15 minutes.

3. While the chicken is roasting, heat the olive oil in a heavy-duty saucepan over medium heat. Cook the carrot, celery, garlic, and bacon until the vegetables are translucent. Add 1 cup of the bean cooking liquid, the tomato paste, and the beans. Cook for 20 to 30 minutes. Add in the balsamic vinegar, season with salt and pepper and cook an additional 5 minutes; add additional cooking liquid from the beans if necessary to thin out the ragut.

4. After the chicken has rested, sprinkle the chopped parsley into the ragut. Carve the chicken and serve with the white bean ragut.

I was lucky enough to spend a week in Morocco over the Christmas holidays. TH and I had an incredible time exploring a completely new culture, and eating a week’s worth of tagines, preserved lemons, cured olives, and rich breads. From wandering through the evening medinas — complete with grilled meats, live music, and costumed performers — to drinking cocktails à la Casablanca in a bar said to inspire the movie, the trip was truly unique. I’ll post a detailed travel guide from our trip shortly, along with some great pictures we snapped along the way, but for a fresh start to January, I wanted to share a glass or two of Moroccan mint tea.

We saw locals sipping on this herbal tea everywhere we went — bars, cafès, even corner stoops; one café owner described the brown liquid as Morocco’s whiskey. We trekked up steep cobblestone streets to sip on it over lunch at a tiny seaside restaurant in Tangier, and watched the sunset over the Marrakech marketplace at a fancy rooftop café. We also managed to bring back a lovely set of gold painted glasses perfect for enjoying the mint-studded tea back at home.

Mint tea may be a wonderful memory of our trip, but this cooling herb also packs plenty of benefits for those of you looking to spruce up in the New Year. Rich in Vitamins A and C, mint also contains a number of minerals, making it a great addition to your morning cuppa. Drinking a pot spiked with mint can stimulate the senses and improve mood, and mint is also known to relieve congestion, head colds and headaches, a much needed remedy this time of year. Moroccan’s enjoy their tea very sweet, with a large handful of mint in each glass. I prefer to cut out some of that sugar, and add a squeeze of lemon juice for a bright, minty sip that makes me feel fresh and ready to tackle the day.

Moroccan Mint Tea
4-6 servings
1 tablespoon loose leaf green tea
4 cups boiling water
2-4 tablespoons sugar, to taste
1 large bunch mint, reserve some mint for garnishing
1 lemon

1. Place the mint, green tea and sugar into a decorative teapot. Pour the boiling water over the mint and brew for 3 to 5 minutes. Place the garnishing mint into the tea cups, pour the tea through a strainer into the cups, and serve. Top with fresh squeezed lemon juice to taste.

For all that Grant Achatz and Nick Kokonas do to set themselves apart from the pack, dinner at Alinea is everything you expect – unbelievable. From the Star Trek sliding front doors to the teasing kitchen view of several dozen cooks to the final course- a peanut butter, chocolate, blueberry dessert plated table side on the table atop a thin rubber tablecloth- every element is just as it should be: thoughtful, thought-provoking, playful, and delicious.

Lacking the pretension or overbearing presence that often comes with many multi-course, haute cuisine meals, the staff seems almost as giddy to be serving each course as the diners are to be enjoying them. With sly smiles and coy descriptions, the presentations arrive on the infamous metal spoons, vials, tiny platters, and delicate ceramic wear of Martin Kastner, the restaurant’s wildly talented service ware designer.

While at times inspirations can seem almost erratic, as you are pulled from country to time period to sensation through the varied menu, each course layers on top of the next, adding an element of surprise, whimsy, texture, and flavor. Japanese finger food (a soy milk skin dehydrated and fried is then wrapped in shrimp and coated in togarashi and sesame seeds, and served alongside a red miso emulsion), Escoffier (service ware from the 1900s is set for the classic Canard a la Cussy, duck and foie gras atop perfect puff pastry) and a study of color (a monochromoatic white plate features halibut and lemon, with teasing undertones of coffee, vanilla, and black pepper) all dance across the table.

Somehow the three-hour meal seems to have started just as it is ending, and yet you are left feeling completely content. Understanding first hand the drive, passion, and hard work it takes to make this kind of restaurant seamlessly work the way it does, and with all the recent press about their Next move, it’s hard to not be in (gushing) awe of these restaurateurs.