We’ve been on a pizza kick all weekend. There’s no such thing as Neapolitan style thin crust pizza here in Las Vegas so Katie and I spent the weekend toying with recipes. At this point we’ve tried recipes from Mark Bittman, Giuliano Bugialli and god knows how many online recipes.

I finally checked out Heston Blumenthal’s (of The Fat Duck) recipe from his book “In Search of Perfection”. Interesting, and I’m sure it is great, but it requires 24 hours to make a pizza dough. I started messing with it, and I think I have a pretty decent substitute that only takes a few minutes to put together (and another hour and a half or so to rise).  This recipe utilizes weights – so get yourself a simple scale if you don’t already have one, it’s a great tool for the kitchen, especially if you’re getting into baking.

Here goes:

• 350 g King Arthur AP Flour
• 190 g beer (of your choice, we used Sierra Nevada “Tumbler” Autumn Brown Ale)
• 10 g luke warm water (roughly 120 degrees fahrenheit)
• 7 g (one package) active dry yeast
• 2 g granulated sugar

In a small bowl, mix the luke warm water, sugar, and yeast. allow to bloom for ten to fifteen minutes.

In a mixer, combine the AP flour and beer. add the water and yeast mix.

Combine thoroughly.

Cut the resulting ball in three equal parts, roll them on a cutting board until round.

Place each ball in an individual bowl that has been lightly oiled.

Smear the surface of each dough ball with an additional 1/4 teaspoon olive oil to prevent the dough drying out while it rises.

Cover each bowl with a dish towel and let sit in a warm place (80 degrees or warmer is best).

After approximately an hour to an hour and a half each dough should have risen to nearly double its original size.

Roll out the dough as thin as possible and top with your favorite ingredients.   We made two different pies, one topped with bolognese sauce we had been playing around with, and another “white pie” that was topped with olive oil, garlic, chili flakes and fresh clams (use raw clams, they’ll cook thoroughly by the time the crust is crisp) and lots of fresh herbs when it comes out of the oven.

We baked the pies in a 500 degree convection oven on an inexpensive pizza stone ($9.50 at Target) for six to seven minutes, use your judgement.  When the crust looks brown and crispy, you’re probably done.

Hope you like!!

Photo credit Channel4

Finally.  BLT season is here!  Easily one of my favorite food seasons (along with stone fruit season, green garlic season, etc…).  I freely admit that for the last four days I have eaten a BLT at least twice a day.  Now obviously, most people can figure out how to make a BLT.  I thought I would share some personal opinions (and a few facts) that might make your BLT just a little bit better.

First, a set in stone fact.  DON’T REFRIGERATE TOMATOES.  Just like stone fruits, pears, etc… refrigeration does bad things to great product. Here I give you fact from the author of the bible (a.k.a. Harold McGee, author of “On Food and Cooking” Scribner 2004 revised edition).

“Tomatoes came originally from a warm climate and should be stored at room temperature. Their fresh flavor readily suffers from refrigeration. Tomatoes at the mature-green stage are especially sensitive to chilling at temperatures below about 55ºF, and suffer damage to their membranes that results in minimal flavor development, blotchy coloration, and a soft, mealy texture when they are brought back to room temperature. Fully ripe tomatoes are less sensitive, but lose flavor due to the loss of flavor producing enzyme activity. Some of this activity can come back, so refrigerated tomatoes should be allowed to recover at room temperature for a day or two before eating.”

Basically, just don’t do it.

Next up, I like to marinate tomatoes for at least half an hour before eating them (though marinating for a few hours, certainly isn’t going to hurt). I typically peel my tomatoes. To do this, cut a very shallow, small X on the bottom of the tomato, just deep enough to break the skin. Put the tomato in boiling water for five to ten seconds depending on ripeness. Remove the tomato and let it cool for a minute or two. The skin where you made the X should be peeled back slightly. Use a pairing knife, pull the skin away from the flesh.

Cut your tomatoes into slices or wedges, whichever you prefer, and sprinkle with chopped shallot, basil, pepper, and some good olive oil.  I would do the same thing for most dishes using raw tomato.  In the picture, I used Fino Verde basil, which has very small leaves, and Tasmanian pepper (an extremely floral pepper that can be obtained through Le Sanctuaire http://www.le-sanctuaire.com/)  Another idea would be to use garlic oil. To make this, submerge peeled garlic cloves in olive oil and cook in a 250ºF oven until the garlic is soft.  You now have garlic confit and garlic flavored oil.

Now, the bacon.  The only trick with this one is finding the best.  I am partial to Benton’s from Tennessee, but if there is a good local pork producer, it is hard to go wrong.

Lettuce.  Boston Bibb is a good lettuce for BLTs, but I like something with a little more spice.  My favorite is mustard greens.  Dark purple and vibran green with an intense mustard flavor.  You probably wouldn’t want to eat a salad made solely of these as they are so spicy, but on a sandwich they’re great.  In second place is a very spicy wild arugula.

Like the bacon, the bread is all about finding a great product, except being local is even more important.  We all know how quickly bread can transform from sublime to mundane.  Search out a local bakery and look for a soft crusted bread.  When you are making a dish with only three or four ingredients it is imperative that you use the best.  With such a tight focus, any mediocre product is going to stand out.

Dressing.  Now this one is open for debate.  My two current favorite spreads for my BLT are guacamole or Kewpie mayo.  I know I use the stuff in half my recipes but it is because it is so damn good.  Pick some up already.  And lose that “Ewwwwww” face.  Seriously, it’s delicious.

For some reason it never occurs to me to roast a chicken at home.  It certainly isn’t a tricky prospect, I just never think to, and so the other night I did.  I was pretty happy with the results, but as ever, it all comes down to the quality of the product.  Our eleven dollar chicken was a free range, air dried bird the we picked up at Whole Foods, as was all the veg.  I’m really partial to air dried poultry if you are roasting them.  Air drying makes it easy to achieve that perfect crispy skin without a convection oven.  To accompany the bird we opted for a simple potato salad.

There are a few key ingredients that you’ll need.  As you can see in the picture, one is a magnum of Champagne.  While we didn’t cook with any of it, upon the recommendations of Julia Child and Fernand Point, we had one on hand anyway.  The others you see are tarragon, thyme, chives, shallots, leeks, garlic, carrot, a bottle of Vouvray (to pair with the chicken once the champagne was done), bacon, and my favorite secret ingredient, Kewpie mayonnaise.

So, to start, we made the potato salad using small Yukon Gold potatoes (Yukon “C” potatoes if your market uses the standard grading sizes).  I like to cook them with the skins on.  The boys at the Fat Duck in Bray, England have done a lot of research on cooking potatoes and have shown that potato skins contain a substantial amount of what we recognize as potato flavor, though they like to peel their potatoes, put the peelings in cheese cloth and cook them with the potatoes to remove any textural contrast.  Either way, start the potatoes in lightly salted cold water over medium heat (it’s easier on starch conversion if you use cold water instead of hot).  To test the doneness, insert a paring knife into one of the potatoes and lift it from the water.  If the potato immediately falls off the knife, you’re done.  HOWEVER.  I like to cook my potatoes for another two to three minutes.  My reasoning is that by overcooking the potatoes just slightly, I will have a little bit of broken down potato starch to thicken whatever dressing I add to the potatoes.  And more to the point, that’s how I like my potato salad to taste.

Once cooled, chop your potatoes into bite size pieces.  To the potatoes we added some chopped celery, shallot, red onion, and rendered bacon (what the French call Lardons). Please, please don’t throw out the grease left from cooking the bacon (or for that matter any other cooking liquid you may encounter).  To dress the potatoes we made a slight variation on a basic vinaigrette.  By most cookbook standards a vinaigrette is two to three parts oil, one part vinegar.  We opted for one part mild olive oil, one part assertive olive oil, one part rendered bacon fat, and one part champagne vinegar, a tablespoon of mustard, an egg yolk for richness, some chopped tarragon, thyme, and chives.  I whisked this all together and then my inclination for all foods Asian, snuck in with a generous helping of Kewpie mayonnaise.  Kewpie can be found in most Asian markets in a non-descript transparent bottle with a red cap (see the pictures).  It is flat out delicious.

On to the chicken.  Essentially any time I roast chicken, I slip some kind of aromatics under the skin, a very classic French approach.  We used tarragon, thyme, chive, marjoram, and shallots.  Start by mincing the shallot and chopping all of the herbs.  Mix the herbs and shallot with a pinch of salt and ground black pepper.  Now, very gently lift the skin of the bird at the top of the breast, near the cavity.  Using a very slight pressure, slide your hand back and forth between the skin and meat of the bird.  The skin will release slightly, but be careful not to tear any holes.  Work your way forward until you have reached the wishbone.  I try to leave the skin attached at the keel bone (the bone running in between the two breasts) as that helps the skin shrink back around the bird easier.  Once you have loosened the skin, generously rub your aromatic mix between the skin and meat.

If you are going to be presenting this bird to a crowd (or are an OCD chef), I recommend trussing the bird.  The best description for this is given in The French Laundry Cookbook, and I won’t bother with it here.  It just makes for a more even roast, and a fantastic look.  I also like to roast the bird on a bed of vegetables (onion, carrot, leek, celery, thyme, marjoram), as well as a glass of the Vouvray that we will be drinking with dinner.  All the drippings from the bird and vegetables will be collected for the sauce.

Once on its bed of veg, take a small stick of butter and lightly rub it over the skin (the butter fat will help in the evaporation process and render the skin more crispy, not to mention all those caramelized milk solids).  Place the bird in a 425 degree oven.  Roasting times will vary, but every six or seven  minutes, pull the bird out, and rub it with the stick of butter.  Our bird was a little over four pounds and took around thirty five minutes to cook.  To check your bird, insert a thermometer into the thickest part of the thigh (the slowest part of the bird to heat up).  When the thermometer reads between 140 and 145, pull the bird and let it rest on the counter for fifteen minutes.  The residual heat will carry the internal temp up to nearly 160 degrees without drying out the bird.

While the bird is resting, take the all the drippings and the veg that the bird was cooked on, and press them through a strainer.  Add a little chicken stock (I don’t recommend store bought stock, but if you do use it, be sure it has no salt added, and cook it until it has reduced by half, in order to concentrate the flavor).  Bring this to a simmer and add three to four tablespoons of the best quality whole cream you can find.  I personally like Strauss Family Creamery, but unless you are in Nor Cal, it could be hard to come by.  Bring to a simmer and add some chopped tarragon, as well as salt and pepper to taste.  Turn off the heat.

Now slice up the bird and serve.  The thighs should still be somewhat pink.  If they aren’t, then the bird is over cooked, and the breast meat will be bone dry.  I know it is contrary to the FDA and everything your third grade school nurse taught, but if you source your products as we all should, there is nothing to worry about.  Do watch out for pups though.  Robbie nearly knocked the table over because his tail was wagging so hard.

Check out some of Tyson’s other posts:

• Friends in the Industry
• Cooking Well
• Spoiled in San Francisco

The longer I have cooked professionally, the more frequently I have come to ask, what does it mean to cook well?  It’s somewhat of a loaded question.  Plenty of people cook well at home every day, with nothing more glorious than ingredients from a local chain store.  To the professional chef it means a host of different things depending on their personal goals, style of restaurant, etc…

To me it means a clean apron at the end of the night, after performing a host of different tasks, all so that we can satisfy our guests’ rather complex whims.   For me it is easier to explain my vision of cooking well by pointing to certain chefs I hold in high regard, David Kinch of Manresa, Daniel Patterson of Coi, Paul Liebrandt of Corton.

There was a fantastic article about Liebrandt in the NY Times on Tuesday.  The crazier foodies, and New Yorkers in general, have been following his eclectic behavior and seemingly odd flavor combinations for quite a while now.  No one seems to know what he is going to do next.  But among all this volatility, there is an extreme degree of control and finesse, something that is highly sought after in the fine dining world.  Two sentences jumped out at me.

“Paul’s plates look like the food was blown there by a gentle breeze, to have a plate that is super-composed but looks organic, that’s the dream. And it’s not easy to do.”  The comment was made by a pastry chef that worked with him earlier in his career, Will Goldfarb.  Many of us aspire to that level, but it is incredibly rare that any reach that plane.  If you have the time, take a look at the NY Times article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/22/dining/22lieb.html?_r=1&ref=dining

The man really is amazing.  Oh, did I mention, Paul Liebrandt is only 32 years old, and has been running high-end kitchens since he was 25?

Last week I stopped by to say hi to my friend Chris Cosentino over at his restaurant Incanto.  You may have seen Chris; he’s been on the Food Network quite a bit in the last year or so.  If you don’t recognize the name, you should check out his website so you know what you are getting into with him – www.offalgood.com and  www.incanto.biz.  I thought I would sit down for a glass of wine and one, maybe two courses at the bar.  Sorry there aren’t any pictures, but I was just going out for a casual meal.  I wasn’t really expecting what followed.

Incanto is a favorite spot for me in SF.  It is a total neighborhood restaurant, tucked away down Church Street in the less traveled part of Noe Valley.  I like to drop by and say hi to old friends from other restaurants (there always seem to be a couple in that kitchen for some reason).  Its a place where I know I can go for a good meal, great pasta, and maybe a dish of something I have never tried before.  Such was a case this night.

For an app I kept things traditional and ordered the Veal Terrine with Goose liver mousse.  No joke, the portion size could have fed three or four people.  Since Chris is a friend though, I felt compelled to knock down the whole thing.  It was amazing, but left me wondering how I would ever finish another course.

I started chatting with the folks sitting around me and not surprisingly, every single person sitting at the bar (seven of us) were all in some way connected to the industry.  The two ladies to my left were the owners of a local produce company, the guy on my right is a founder of the local Slow Food chapter and he also had just happened to help Chris and his local 4-H group with a project the day before.  You know you are in a good spot when the majority of the people around you are professional foodies.

And then a dish arrived.  Duck legs and necks braised in Balsamic Vinegar.  If you haven’t had duck neck, you are missing the whole point of our time here.   Believe me, your grandmother used Turkey necks in that thanksgiving stuffing that was so amazing.  Really, I’m not making it up.

It may not be proper in most restaurants, but I ate with my hands. I understand how uncouth it may seem, but at Incanto it is a compliment, especially with Duck neck.  It’s impossible to pull all that goodness off the bone with a fork and knife.

After my duck dish I had to order a pasta.  All of the Pasta at Incanto is great, so you have to try at least one with your meal.  I had “Corzetti”.  These two inch rounds were glazed in pork jus and served with braised pork shoulder and foie gras.  Do I really need to say anything else?  I didn’t think so.

So back to that 4-H project.  It turns out, the 4-H chapter up in Sebastapol (just south of Napa) had a project this year of raising two hundred turkeys.  Mike, a.k.a. the guy to my right, and Chris had joined the 4-H club the day before to help them kill and clean the turkeys.  And so, unsurprisingly, Mike and I were presented with a few dishes to share, as a thank you to the birds that were dispatched.

I make no apologies for what we ate.  In fact, it is much more of an honor to the birds that we ate all of them.  Most of us are far more comfortable eating meat that arrives in cellophane.  I was the same way for many years.  But now my eyes have been opened to the realities of farming and sustainability.  For the perfect ethical discourse I have to point you to Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstal.  He says it far better than I ever could – http://www.rivercottage.net.  His eloquent and thoughtful “Meat and Right” manifesto in the River Cottage Meat Book is a must read, whether you are a steak and potatoes carnivore or a tofurkey lover.

So by now you should have some idea of what is in the works.  Duck necks, goose liver mousse, seared foie gras…  If you haven’t guessed by now, Chris Cosentino is one of a few chefs around the globe actively working to elevate not just sustainability but a deep and abiding appreciation for all those animals we consume.  Chris is the unofficial west coast representative, Mario Batali has New York, Fergus Henderson London, and there are thousands of others around the globe.  Read their books, check out their websites, and make up your own mind.

So this is where things got really interesting.  After three obscenely rich and incredibly substantial courses, Chris sent out a turkey bouillon including the boiled fertile eggs that had not been laid yet.  I have to admit my first thought was, damn, I’m not sure about that.  But really, it was so comforting and perfectly simple, you couldn’t help but love it.

Having assuaged my initial doubts I was presented with another first, braised and seared Turkey lungs over grilled country bread and a fried egg.  I’m not sure what I expected, but they were lovely.  Texturally they reminded me of a frittata, that light, airy, Italian version of an omelette, but with a flavor that was subtly bitter.  The bitterness worked particularly well with the richness of the egg yolk.  I enjoyed it far more than I first thought I would.

Ok, I’m not afraid to admit it; at this point I was damn near hitting the wall.  There was just no more room in my stomach.  Rather sedately I called over the bar manager to ask for my check.  That’s when I noticed Chris in the kitchen trying to get my attention.  He was signaling me that he had one more course, and it was clear that it was nearly ready.  When a chef is so obviously pleased to be feeding you, the only polite thing to do is shut up and eat.  You know it is going to be good, really, really good, and with a little luck, you’ll live to eat like this tomorrow.

And so it arrived.  Sautéed turkey testicles with chunks of bacon and chanterelles.  This is an ingredient I have had several times before, always courtesy of Chris.  What can I say, the man doesn’t throw away anything.  It was delicious, the testicles providing a textural contrast more than anything.  I can’t really express how rich this dish was.  I had been drinking big wines throughout the meal, but none of them could really stand up to the intense flavors in this dish.

Mercifully, it really was the final course.  I went and chatted with Chris in the kitchen while he nursed a beer (and I had a triple espresso).  His cooks were winding down another busy evening, but it was obvious how much they enjoy being there.  It’s a testament to just what a crazy, intense and nurturing bastard Chris is.  Next time you are in San Francisco, check these guys out.  Don’t worry, most of the dishes on the menu don’t contain lamb knees or vampire spleen.

Oh, and as a point of courtesy.  If you should happen to know one of the cooks at your favorite local restaurant, when you go in for dinner, bring them a twelve pack of your favorite beer.  It’s a small gesture, but to a low level cook sweating their ass off behind the scenes, it means a lot.  And more often than not, it will confer lifetime VIP status on you.  Look what a reputation of bringing Racer 5 and Sierra Nevada has done for me.

Why say that?  I think the pictures should explain.  Late September, temperature in the low seventies, Happy Hour at Hog Island, it’s hard to find fault with anything on a day like this.

For those of you that aren’t from the Bay Area, Hog Island is an Oyster Farm based north of San Francisco in the small town of Point Reyes.  You can either trek up to their oyster beds in Point Reyes, or like us spoiled San Franciscans, drop by the Ferry Building shop.

For those of us thrifty (or, read cheap) restaurant types, the best days are Monday and Thursdays when they have happy hour from Five to Seven.  One dollar oysters and two dollar beers.  It’s a steal, though once a bunch of other cooks show up and you are three hundred oysters into the afternoon…

But I digress.  Afterward a few of us made the fifty yard walk down to Boccalone, Chris Cosentino’s new Salumeria.  Our buddy Manny, a.k.a. mouth, hooked it up with some fantastic Mortadella and 18 month old prosciutto style cured ham.  Pictures to come in a later post.  All in all a great afternoon.

Now it is time to go sit out beneath the Bay Bridge and decide what to do for dinner.  Don’t you love it when the only thing on your mind for an entire day is where to eat next.  Now you have some idea of what I mean by spoiled in San Francisco.