The film Food, Inc makes it plainly clear that we really have no idea what is in the food on our dinner plate.

With 2006′s Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan sets the tone for the way we eat, calling his readers to look at labels and understand what makes up our food. Three years later, the phrases organic, sustainable, and free-range have become more common place, and yet Food, Inc is still a startling, eye-opening look at the food industry, intended to show, not just tell, what the trouble is all about.

The movie asks the prime question “How much do we really know about the food we buy and eat?” Throughout the 93 minute film, journalist Eric Schlosser, author of Fast Food Nation, Michael Pollan, and an array of farmers, meat producers, politicians, and citizens, shed light on that question. Scenes shift from unkempt chicken coops to employees struggling in unfair labor situations in slaughter houses; watching scenes of farmers who are left with little choice but to follow unsettling corporate policy, it is hard to not demand change.

Food, Inc insists that Americans are eating without thinking, and eating choices affect the environment, the food industry, politics and labor practices. The film discusses new strains of E.colli, caused by feeding cows corn(when they naturally feed on grass), which is spread into the water through their feces. It showcases the politics of subsidizing the corn industry and the dismay caused by patenting a crop and controlling individual farms. The film highlights the poor practices that arise when 80% of a market is controlled by four companies and details these companies’ unfair labor policies and treatment of employees.

Looking at the problems with the industry, Food, Inc also showcases farmers and companies who stand up to these practices. There is an insiders view of organic companies, sustainable farms, and farmers who stand up to corporations, even when it means loosing their jobs. The film emphasizes the burgeoning organic food industry, and promotes the men and woman who promote food safety.

In the end, the film asks it’s viewers to make choices about what they eat. While many people choose to shun fast food choices, they do not realize the meat they purchase from the supermarket is the same meat they would be eating at these chain restaurants. Colas and packaged goods packed full of preservatives and corn derivatives are supporting these industries, intentionally or not. The question is asked again, “What is in the food you eat?” Food, Inc‘s answer is found in supporting local farmers markets, reading labels, buying locally, and eating at home more often. Food, Inc suggests these 10 simple things to change our food system.

This is a must see film, because changing the way we eat is not only important, it is imperative. With the state of our food industry, environment, and labor practices, this shocking film is sure to educate and change your mind about the way your eat and what you put on your plate.

So Long Los Angeles, It’s Been Swell

The great thing about Los Angeles is that at the drop of a hat you can do just about anything. A thirty minute cruise through the city and you’re working on your tan and eating ice cream on Venice Beach. Or hop on the subway and head downtown for dim sum and red bean pastries in Chinatown. There’s a farmers market every day, where the freshest local, organic produce can be turned into a meal worth feeding the Gods. And on every corner you can find either a great cup of coffee, a bacon wrapped hotdog or a bakery sporting cupcakes. The culture in Los Angeles is so diverse, there is everything from Jewish delis selling the best Matzoa ball soup to dim sum in Chinatown to the classic Los Angeles staple, a hot dog at Pinks. Moving from this city is a hard thing to do; there is so much food to be missed.

On Wednesday morning, bright and early, a true foodie will head west to the Santa Monica farmers market(Arizona and 2nd Avenue). Nothing beats Californian produce, and this market is unparalleled, with helpful and attentive farmers always ready to share a story or a laugh. At Weiser Family Farms,smiling Alex Weiser helps you choose purple and yellow carrots and butterball potatoes. In the summer the farm has intricately flavored melons and delicious mulberries, if you can manage to track some down. For more berries, including bright yellow and orange raspberries and pungent blackberries, the ladies at Pudwill Farms won’t steer you wrong. And there is nothing better than a California strawberry, especially the ones from Harry’s Berries. At the end  of the market, Monak Ranch is great in the summer for a rainbow array of heirloom tomatoes, and the stall next door, Sea Canyon, is the place in the winter for apples. And the peaches at Reiger Farms are dream worthy; bright, sweet and tart, they are a taste you won’t soon forget. While spring and summer offer a dreamers delight of fruit and vegetables, this market holds true even in the winter, with farmers bringing an abundance of wonderful citrus, root vegetables, and flowers. Grab a coffee and pastry from Rockenwagner Bakery, a Austrian style bakery located nearby, and stroll along, smelling, tasting, and learning about the bounty of California.

While you’re near the beach, check out the eclectic Venice Beach. Rent a bike from the Santa Monica Pier and ride it along the beach through the Venice boardwalk, stopping to check out the body builders on Muscle Beach and the rowdy street performers.  Keep heading along the beach east towards the must-see the Venice Beach Canals. The houses that line the man made canals are breathtaking, the area breathes of  peaceful calm. Nearby Abbot Kinney Boulevard is home to a number of unique boutiques, shops and restaurants. Jin Patisserie is a wonderful place to take a break. The relaxing zen garden compliments the delicate cakes, macaroons and sweets of their tea service. Not far from Abbot Kinney, you can find the city’s best Italian store, Bay Cities. The meatball sandwich is worth the plane ticket alone.

Heading East, the drive through Beverly Hills into Hollywood is an adventure all its own. Take Wilshire Boulevard and you’ll pass numerous doughnut shops, a strange staple in a city full of health food fanatics. Beverly Hills is home to a few classic Los Angeles food stops, including Sprinkles cupcakes, which started the cupcake craze and a Pinkberry. Frozen yogurt in Los Angeles has become a dime a dozen; every shopping center seems to have a FrozenBerry, SnowBerry, or Yogurtland.(See MattBites) The original is still the best, and ask for mochi as a topping, this Japanese gummi bear makes the yogurt so much better. The area is also home to several upscale patisseries, including chocolate haven Madame Chocolate, Boule for bread and dainty cakes, and Paulette for beautiful, french style macarons.

A little more east and you’ll hit the start of Hollywood. Among the selection of Ethiopian restaurants of little Ethiopia, you’ll find Jewish deli Canter’s. With great matzoa ball soup and an open 24 hours policy, this is a popular late night hang out. For a grilled Reuben, however, Greenblatt’s deli has no competition. Half pastrami, half corned beef on rye with sauerkraut and extra thousand island is the way to go. Nearby, the best brunch spot is The Griddle. But be warned, there is always a line and the giant pancakes are topped with sugar, sugar and more sugar. Just a hint, you can order just one pancake and one is more than enough. The chili here is also phenomenal. Hollywood is also home to Runyun Canyon, one of the many hiking area’s Los Angeles offers. Burn off all those calories hiking up above the smog; you’ll get some great fews of the city and may even see a celebrity or two. For a cool treat after your hike, Mashti Malone’s is a Los Angeles favorite, well-known for their rosewater ice cream. A hidden gem slightly east of the area is Scoops, which offers fresh, inventful flavors, like black sesame, honey thyme, or brown bread ice cream.

Keep heading East along Sunset Boulevard and you’ll hit Sunset Junction. During the day, stroll into the boutiques and take a photo booth picture at Pull My Daisy, then  grab a coffee at Casbah Cafe and people watch outside. For great Vietnamese noodle soup check out Pho Cafe, then walk to nearby Echo Park and sit near the lake. Try the fruit from a street cart, fresh melons, pineapple, mango and coconut diced up to order and topped with lime juice and chili powder.It’s very refreshing and very LA. For dinner, head slightly south to Los Angeles’s Koreatown, home to numerous karaoke bars, Korean spas, and barbecue. The place for Korean BBQ is Parks, which offers an impressive display of kimchi as well as the best pork belly in town. After dinner, a drive up the street will take you to Los Feliz. Have a cocktail circa 1980 at the Dresden and if you’re feeling confident, take a turn singing at the piano bar. If you’re possibly still hungry, almost everything on the menu at Fred 62 is great, and the Mac Daddy and Cheese Balls usually hit the late night hunger spot. Or in true Los Angeles style, venture onto Taco Zone(Alvarado and Montana), Los Angeles’s best taco truck. The steak tacos with lots of lime, onion, and cilantro can’t be beat.

Once you hit Downtown you’ve pretty much had the run of Los Angeles, although the area offers so much you could spend a good amount of time there. A interesting overview is Grand Central Market. It’s a little beat up, but there are numerous stalls of spices, produce and food to walk around and taste. A nice day trip downtown is wandering around Little Tokyo. The grocery store in the market area offers numerous Japanese staples, the boutiques show off new and old Japanese wares, and the bakeries offer light, sweet cakes for a snack for the road. For a break from all the food, see an exhibit at The Geffen, part of the Museum of Contemporary Art or visit the Japanese American National Museum. Another must do in downtown is Phillipe’s. Opened in 1908, this is the place the French Dip was born, and these sandwiches are sublime. Juicy meat on French bread dipped in a rich sauce, topped off with coleslaw. Nightlife in downtown is rejuvenated and the area offers anything from dive bars, to burlesques shows at The Edison, to drinks on the roof of The Standard hotel. There is never a dull moment in Los Angeles.

Of course, the list could go on and on. Pack it all into one day. Well, maybe a few. Los Angeles offers so much more, and everyday new places are sprouting up and old classics are being spotted. While the  east coast boasts of melting pots cities and complains about west coast traffic, Los Angeles stands on its own two feet. You really can find pretty much anything in this city, and at the end of the day, the traffic isn’t all that bad. No different than waiting for a subway train anyway. For all its food, among other things, Los Angeles is certainly a city to miss. It’s great that a visit back is sure to fill the stomach and warm the heart.

Tucked back into a corner of downtown Weisbaden’s shopping center, the tiny bakery is far from the bustle of nearby shoppers. It is not one of the numerous stands that lines the pedestrian zone, selling piping hot pretzels for fifty pfennings. Nor is it the corner bakery case that offers bright fruit tarts and our favorite, fluffy dampfnoodles, steamed buns with a salty, crispy crust. Far away from the hip clothing stores that entice my teenage eyes with the latest Euro fashions and Spice Girlesque boots, the bakery is saved for trips downtown with my mother. We always travel deeper into the shopping district, near the giant cuckoo clock store and the linen shop where she often buys new table cloths. There, the tiny bakery awaits, full of wonderful poppy seed brotchen, rich apfel strudel, and buttery, jammy, linzer cookies.

It is always at this bakery that I ask for the linzer. Big round cookies, filled with bright raspberry jam and topped with powdered sugar, I rarely leave the cookie in it’s bag long enough for the grease to mark the paper. The cookies are the perfect mix of spicy, sweet and delicious.

Back in the US, several years after my European adolescence, memories of those linzer cookies still connect to shopping trips with my Mother. Thoughts turned to her Valentine’s Day gift, the idea of baking these cookies swirled in my mind. Traditionally made with ground nuts, spices, butter, sugar and eggs, the cookies are a form of the Linzer Torte. Home to Linzer, Austria, the dough that forms both the torte and the cookies is said to date back as far as 1696. As I searched for the perfect recipe, I found many variations from this traditional dough. Each used brown, white, or confectioner’s sugar, a variety of different nuts and a mixture of spices. Some called for chemical leavener’s, other’s did not, and many included variations for the jam filling, including using any kind of store bought flavor. At first I thought traditional:ground almonds with cinnamon and nutmeg, and perhaps Apricot jam, but I needed a recipe. Mulling around with the ratios for linzer’s that I found, I decided finally on one egg to one yolk, and dark muscovado sugar for it’s deep molasses flavor. With a good base linzer cookie recipe created, I decided to play around with the ingredients. Pistachio linzer with cherry jam. Punched into hearts and topped with confectioner’s sugar, these cookies were quite attractive all boxed up and tasted almost as wonderful as the linzer’s I remember eating with my mother in Germany. For Valentine’s Day or any day that needs something special, these Linzer’s are a great way to go.

Back to writing….

One horrifying day a few months ago, my laptop, a five-year-old Dell who had seen more than it’s fare share of drops, dings and over use, refused to turn on. Rushing the injured equipment to my car, I drove across town as if my Honda had transformed into an ambulance. The smartly dressed Geek Squadette at Best Buy informed me moments later that my poor laptop, the source of my Internet information and the vessel into which my writing out poured, was indeed dead. Full of despair I returned home, only slightly consoled by the enormous and almost ancient Mac my other half owned. At least writing was still possible, and so my blogging posts continued. But the Mac was slow, wouldn’t fit into any size bag for a field trip to the park, came with an annoying beeping sound and many delays in processing. A few days later that beeping sound revealed itself to be a dying hard drive as the Mac refused, following suit with my poor Dell, to turn on. I began to think my fingers were laced with some sort of computer poison.

Thus almost daily trips to the local libraries ensued, presenting all sorts of new problems. The closest library to my new residence in Korea town was the Pio Pico library, populated over the holiday season with a large number of elementary, middle and high schoolers whose free time soured during winter vacation. Packed in groups around computers, laughter and shouting filled what should have been a quiet zone. Everyday these library patrons viewed each other’s MySpace pages and played fantasy computer games for hours at a time, reserving the computers I dreamed of using. Often every computer was booked, and when I finally lucked into a computer to use, the noise was too much to handle. The four limited- use computers were only available for fifteen minutes at a time, and after tackling the hoards of e-mails left unchecked everyday, the time was up. Which meant back into a deep line of patrons waiting for computer use. Sundays became a headache of a trip to the Hollywood location. Parking was almost impossible because of the farmer’s market located across from the library and patron demand was even higher for a smaller number of computers. But through perseverance, I managed to continue to check my e-mails, keep up with my bank accounts and bills and somehow update my blog. And then it seemed a black cloud was truly over my computer usage, as the public library computer system crashed. Day after day I trekked to the libraries, only to find no computer usage signs posted. All hope left my typing fingers, and I sank into a great computer depression. My blog, which I had eagerly created only a few months earlier, was left untouched, with no hope for decent posts in the near future.

And then my dark cloud was lifted, as a wonderful benefactor came in the form of my Aunt. Her spare computer was speed delivered to my door moments after this sad story reached her ears, more than three months after my poor little Dell died.

And so it’s back in the technological saddle again. The last few months have been full of experiences ready to be typed into words, recipes created and tested,ideas dreamed, books read(or at least started), and of course lots of food. So look forward to many more weeks of posts, all about La Vita Cucinare, my life of food, thanks to my wonderful Aunt and my new computer.

My Life in France: Life with Julia

I first met Julia Child in the summer of 2002. I had just graduated high school and was headed to Philadelphia in the fall, where my culinary studies would begin at Drexel Univeristy. My mother, an ardent educator, introduced me into Julia’s kitchen and my eyes went wide. Peering at the piles of cookbooks and utensils, I daydreamed of the day when my kitchen walls would include the outline of where each individual pot and pan should hang apon it, just as Julia’s did. As my mother and I walked through the exhibit at the American History Musuem, showcasing the life and talent of this women, I thought there could be no greater lady. Later I found myself once again face to face with Julia as I began to Master[ing] the Art of French Cooking in my French Cuisine classes in culinary school. Just as Julia’s warmth had leapt from her kitchen, it now leapt from the pages of her book, teaching me the skills neccessary to create classic French cuisine. Although I never actually met the grand lady, her legacy was introduction enough.

In her final work, My Life in France, is a further introduction to Julia and to the grand life she led. Her story begins in the early 1950′s, as Julia moves with her husband, Paul Child, to what she refers to as la belle France. Julia begins her love affair with France and with food, and the book is a whirlwind of the world of Julia’s tastes, sights, and feelings. Reading about her first bites of French cuisine in Rouen is almost comical. That the woman who brought French cuisine to the American cook may have at one point not known a shallot or had a taste for oysters seems absurd, but tasting it for the first time with Julia, the reader sees where this lady’s passion began. The book bounds through her true gastronmic journey, as she studied at Le Courdon Bleu and taught herself  how to really think and cook like a Frenchman. Her drive and unfailling ability to educate herself in any culinary feat is inspiring, and will be sure to get anyone, from the well seasoned chef to those who have never cooked before, into the kitchen.

My Life in France is a journey thourgh the Child’s life but also throughout Euope and the US. Traveling with the Julia and Paul from Paris, to Marseille, to Germany and back to the US, the reader is taught some of the great food lessons Julia had to teach herself. Learning to  cook fish on the Mediterranean, making pie dough and working out the differences in American and French flour, and recreating the atmosphere for baking French bread, the reader is included on many of the trials and tribulations Julia faced in research for her books and in learning her grande cuisine. A rigid and detailed writer, Julia’s acheievements are all the more admirable, as the reader understands with what degree the time and care that went into each of her books, television programs, and recpies.

A memior above all else, My Life in France, is emmaculate in detail, charming, and full of life. Julia recalls dates, times, places, and people in a way that allows the reader to experience them first hand. The reader is transported to a market in Paris buying rabbit or to Provence for dinner with James Beard. A truly grand story of a truly grand lady, the relationships she held most dear are illuminated in the prose. The book is the story of her love affair with Paul Child, who took pictures of Julia de-boning chickens and helped create the books she came to love and the life she led. It tells of Simone Beck, her French sister and co-author, with whom she battled about recipes and created a great masterpeice of a book. Julia’s story is that of her reltaionshop with James Beard, and with famous French food writer Curnonsky, and the many farmers, chef’s, and people who Julia touched and who touched Julia along the way. This prose is one that is enlightening, full of warm, heart felt stories about food and life, and it is a great hit. Although I have never truly met Julia Child, this book makes me feel one giant step closer to feeling as though I have.

My Life in France

Dining out: Do or die?

Have you ever sat in a restaurant, the scene set for an incredible meal? The lights are dimmed, but it’s not too dark, illuminating your date across the table as you sit comfortably in the lush chairs. Although there are people all around you, you merely hear soft murmurs as you look over the enticing menu. In the simple, but elegantly designed dinging room you drink the crisp wine your waitress has suggested and bite into warm bread as you excitedly wait for you meal to arrive.

And then the meal arrives. And the experience is for naughtt. The mushrooms are undercooked and poorly handled, rendering them a soggy mess a top what should have been your wonderful pasta. The gnocchi are gooey and flavorless, drenched in a one dimensional sauce of overpowering hickory flavoring. The wait for entrees is a hopeful one. Sipping wine and biting more warm bread, hopes rise that the food of the restaurant can catch up with feel of it. But the main courses arrives and hope is once again lost. Sauces comprised almost entirely of demi glace lace both plates. An over sized portion of rabbit draped in bacon looses all flavor but that of overly salted pork, served atop lumpy polenta. Venison, rare enough to be confused with seared tuna, is served with chestnuts so dry they take your breath away, all on a cold plate.

And the bite into sweets is little better. Chocolate ganache so thick and heavy it can hardly be cut with fork is served inside a chocolate shell that is for some reason crunchy, making it even more difficult to eat. As the last of the wine is finished and the bill is the paid, the glowing candle illuminates the beautiful interior of the restaurant, making earlier expectations once again clear and all at once very lost in the evening.

And thus the challenge of the restaurant industry. Creating a space that will entice your guests, one with comfort and elegance, and one that compliments your food. Training your wait staff to provide for your guests without being overbearing, designing a wine program to offer the best you can, and hiring the kind of people who will make the best restaurant possible. Creating a menu that will entice your customers,and marketing those customers. And then most importantly, executing that menu. Some restaurants have one or two of these elements down pact, some more than others, some none at all. Some have it all. As a diner, restaurants are for the hope of when the beauty of the place, the glow of the wine, and the excitement of the menu are all realized in that first bite. When the meat melts in your mouth, the flavors pop, the sauce excites, and you dream about the dish for days, weeks, and even years after. As a cook restaurants are the challenge to create dishes that give this experience. To make sure that every single thing under your watch is seasoned properly, cut properly, cooked properly, and plated properly so that the absolute meaning of what the chef wants to serve is given to the customer. Because if it’s not, if it is off, even by a minuscule hair, all the other elements don’t matter and the experience is forever ruined.

This month I pushed myself to find the time to finally finish, “All the President’s Pastries,” by Roland Mesnier. I met Mesnier at a sugar demonstration several months ago, and found him both truly talented and wonderfully intriguing. After the eye opening class into the world of pulled sugar, I picked up both his books: “Dessert University,” an exploration of the pastry basics, and “All the President’s Pastries,” which chronicles his life, including a detailed account of the twenty five years Mesnier spent as the White House pastry chef. Having spent several years of my own childhood in Washington, DC, I was equally intrigued by the life of Mesnier as the secret spot sweets hold to the First Family, and began to eagerly read into the story of the White House pastry chef.

Roland Mesnier, a tall, round French man, is in person a truly jovial sort, and the pleasant energy he carries comes across in the pages of his book. His rags to riches story is just as interesting, if not more so, as the time he spent creating elaborately plated desserts for the world’s leaders. There is a certain romanticism about Mesnier’s early childhood, growing up in the Comte region of France and entering his apprenticeship at age 14, to learn pastry arts like his brother. Reading about the Old World way, where a young pastry cook is taught by his chef in return for housing and a promise of work, Mesnier makes me feel a nostalgia for something I never knew myself. And he brings you along as he continues to learn and grow in some of the great hotels, from London’s Savoy to the Princess in Bermuda. His story is one to admire.

Mesnier’s story comes to America as his experience as a chef in Virginia, at the Homestead, and then he begins the tale of the Presidential sweets. For the second half of the book the focus shifts away from Mesnier and details vividly the First Families, their distinct idiosyncrasies towards the ending of the meal, and the many galas, parties, and dinners Mesnier was responsible for creating elaborately constructed desserts for. He shares with the reader his personal experience of the 25 years he spent as White House pastry chef, from creating birthday cakes for many members of five different First Families to tearing away chocolate chip cookies from allergic Bill Clinton.

As the story turns to tales of White House desserts, parties, and treats, the focus becomes slightly cloudy. In many sections, Mesnier jumps from one idea to the next in an almost irrational manner, so that in one sentence you are reading about Hilary Clinton’s team of women, coined Hillaryland, and in the next about an orange sorbet Mesnier molded for a state dinner. The facts are quite interesting, but often the ordering and way in which they are presented makes the book become a hard read.

“All the President’s Pastries,” ends quite nicely, with Roland Mesnier returning from retirement to help out the White House once more. The book tells a truly interesting story about an the life of an interesting chef and the lives of five of our nations First Families. The pastries and desserts that Mesnier created at the White House are captivating, both in prose as well as the pictures included throughout the book. “All the President’s Pastries,” proves another good read.

All The President’s Pastries