What's So Funny About Peace, Love and Being Kosher?

Several days ago, I applied to a job at zagat.com, the website for the famous survey that rates restaurants. I applied because I am insanely passionate about food and would love to actually report about it for a living. But I am starting to sense, after applying to a variety of foodie-type jobs, that I am a major turn-off to the foodie world.

Why? Think of the last word of this blog: kosher.

While the pig is the king of the culinary world, there seems to be no place for a woman who refuses to eat it, particularly if it’s on religious grounds. Sure, I may be able to produce dynamite recipes and eat fish and vegetarian when I go out, but what does it matter? I won’t eat your pig, your shellfish or your cheeseburgers.

Yet the vegetarians have objections to me – after all, I do eat meat. And if vegans think I’m giving up my cheese, I will fight them to the death in order to keep my Humboldt Fog.

The truth of the matter is, no matter how hard the kosher world tries and how the mainstream media boasts that kosher is now gourmet, the fact is that being kosher isn’t taken seriously by most foodies. It doesn’t matter how great our wines are or how much we follow French techniques and have wonderful dishes. The truth is that we just can’t seem to win.

We have restaurants that transcend the borders – Tierra del Sur in Oxnard is considered to be a gem in the kosher world, and Solo in New York is considered the tops when it comes to cuisine there. However, they are recognized more as being good food rather than good food that’s kosher. Kosher restaurants seem to be a crapshoot, with many of us settling and saying, “It’s good enough for kosher.”

So what can we do about it? Well, my solution may sound drastic, but the truth of the matter is that we, as kosher people, need to speak with our money. I have written a letter to the restaurants on this blog, but it isn’t enough. Money is what talks, after all.

If there is a place that doesn’t serve good kosher food, don’t spend your money there. Don’t keep them in business when the truth is that they aren’t up to par with the other restaurants. I know that many people in the kosher world don’t have a choice – either they go to the restaurants or they are forced to cook themselves – but we should foster healthy competition. For those in big cities like Los Angeles and New York, where there are a ton of kosher places, I certainly believe that this can be arranged. That also applies to all your kosher products, too – if they’re terrible, don’t buy them. It’s the YBK Kosher Food Challenge.

Please feel free to comment with your favorite kosher restaurants and those which you feel don’t deserve to remain open, yet (shockingly) do. Maybe if we start holding higher standards for our kosher restaurants, they will have a better reputation and make better food, and in turn the word kosher will not be a dirty word for foodies in the world. Who knows?

Meanwhile, I will continue dreaming of the day when there is a “Top Chef” kosher challenge that has all the chef-testants screaming bloody murder because, G-d forbid, they have to live without their beloved pork.

Intuitive Cooking

I have certainly been cooking a lot lately. Whether it’s a peach pie for Ari’s grandmother’s 97^th birthday or a random dairy dish for a Jewish community event, I have been cooking up a storm. And always, people seem to want to pick my brain about it. How do I cook things correctly on the first try? How do I understand food? And usually, can I teach them how?

The answer usually simple, as more often than not, it comes down to intuition.

I know that sounds like a way out of giving an answer, but it is the most truthful way to approach it. I’m not the most experienced in the kitchen – my knife skills aren’t the best, and I don’t have access to all the freshest ingredients. I can’t move as fast as the chefs on TV. But I have a good palette and recognize flavor, knowing what each element brings to the pot and am able to combine flavors in order to get what I want.

Intuition, for me, is studying every ingredient and unlocking its secrets. Understanding what a lemon can bring to a dish – the acidity, the freshness, even the ability to cook in a ceviche – can bring a new dimension to whatever you’re working with. Comprehending the full nature of ingredients can make it ten times easier to approach a new dish for the first time than if you didn’t understand.

This is where a different element comes in, and one that most people don’t think about when it comes into food: science. Not many people know that I was pretty good at it when I was in high school, so I understand what is coming at me when it comes to food. For example, take milk – if I recipe calls for milk, I understand that there is lactose there, which is a form of sugar. Plus, depending on the milk, I know there will be a little bit of fat in there to work with as well, which provides a slight element of moisture. Therefore, I usually know how milk will react in a dish, particularly when it comes to baking.

When we unlock the nature of our food, we become less afraid to do things that we may never had dared to do. We recognize the flavors and try different things, which create even better dishes. It gives us courage. Sometimes we fail, but part of messing around in the kitchen is producing some duds along with winners; believe me, I have.

I may not be a molecular gastronomy person (and don’t tempt me – I would love to take the kosher world into the wonders of liquid nitrogen ice cream and beads of salad dressing if I could), but I am utterly fascinated by food and everything it can do. When we understand what we are eating, how we are cooking and how each ingredient brings something new to the table, our food becomes that much more special. We need to take advantage of this and savor it all… except for pork, shellfish and cheeseburgers, of course. ;-)

On that note, I’m going to use milk and lemon for today’s recipe: tortellini in lemon-cream sauce. P’tayavon!

TORELLINI IN LEMON-CREAM SAUCE

2-3 cups leftover beschamel sauce (see Lasagna Florentine recipe)

2 tablespoons lemon zest

1 tablespoon lemon juice

3 garlic cloves, finely minced

1 bag freeze-dried cheese torellini

½ cup parmesan cheese

Reheat the beschamel sauce over low heat. Once heated, add the lemon zest and juice along with the garlic cloves. Adjust the seasonings to taste, then allow to cool and thicken.

Cook the tortellini according to package directions. While still hot, pour the sauce over the pasta and top with parmesan cheese. Mix and serve while hot.

Embracing the Foreigner

On Sunday night, I attended a program regarding the holiday of Shavuot, which begins tonight. My amazing friend, Nelli, hosted the program, where we discussed the Book of Ruth, one of the traditional readings for the festival.

The story of Ruth has to deal a lot with her conversion to Judaism. She said to her mother-in-law, Naomi, “Wherever you go, I will go. Let your people become my people and your G-d become my G-d.” Hence Ruth became the first convert to Judaism – a particularly important point, as she is the grandmother to King David, whose descendant is supposed to become to messiah who brings peace to the Jewish people.

An important part of this story is the lesson that we should embrace the foreigner and take them in, because every person has the potential to bring forth the messiah. And yet it is worth wondering – how well do we do this in our lives? At Passover seders, we say, “All those who are hungry, come and feast.” Yet how many of us really bring people in for our seders who are starving? And how many of us really embrace the strangers in our community?

I don’t like the idea of going through the motions in my Judaism. I feel like that Judaism comes with a form of obligation. The obligation is being true to what I say during holidays, like embracing those who are in need and the person who comes into a community and may feel lost and alone. After all, what is keeping a Yom Tov worth when you aren’t actually helping others? Shouldn’t we take care of each other?

I know plenty of Jews who fit this – they will follow every Jewish ordinance to a T, and yet when it comes to the things that we need to do, like embrace someone who is new, they turn their back. I find this very disturbing. Do they not understand that we are supposed to embrace others and not make them feel uncomfortable? Do they understand they are not supposed to embarrass? How can you say you are Jewish and not do your Jewish duty of making people feel loved and welcome?

I think of my wonderful friend Christina, who began dating my friend Paul shortly after my wedding. Paul told me before I met her that she wasn’t Jewish, but when I did, I found a girl who was so open, loving, funny, joyous and eager to embrace everything about Judaism. I took Paul aside and told him, “If you ever let her go, you would be an idiot.”

Others may not have been sure because she wasn’t born Jewish, but I knew from the moment she smiled and started singing that she, deep down, was what Judaism was all about. She even combines her Filipino heritage with Jewish stuff on her own food blog, Pinoyvey.com. It’s a recommended read.

The truth is that we need to embrace the stranger, and never make Judaism into an exclusive country club that no one can be a part of unless you’re one thing or another. In the Shavuot story, Ruth became a convert even though, in biblical times, Moabite women should not have been allowed to be with the Jewish people. Sometimes, we have to not follow the laws of Judaism in order to be truly Jewish. Being Jewish identifies us as something more than just religious people. It should define us as those who are willing to do what’s right, not just what we are commanded to do.

Since I am currently working on other things to get ready for the holiday, I will not be posting any new recipes. However, there are tons of dairy recipes on the blog, so feel free to scroll around. I'm listing some of my favorites below. Chag sameach!

Pesto Pinwheels

Lasagna Florentine

Spinach Macaron

Strawberry Gorgonzola Salad

Greek Orzo

Lentil Salad

Five-Minute Salad

Onion Tart

Biscochos

Going "Up"

This weekend, I watched the movie “Up” once again. I got in the mood when I saw this link from The Wedding Chicks, which shows a couple using the movie as inspiration for their engagement photos.

There is something so incredibly special about this movie. Comparing “Up” to other movies in the Pixar pantheon of films, there is no question that some of the other movies do far better when it comes to telling stories and creating worlds and characters – such as “Wall-E,” “Finding Nemo” and “The Incredibles.” But I think that “Up” has something that none of the others do. And it’s that impeccable scene.

It’s track three on the DVD, and it’s simply called “Married Life.” But the truth is that it’s a sequence so perfect that I’m sure that film classes will talk about it, and why it works so well. There are no words, but rather Michael Giacchino’s beautiful and memorable score bringing back the movies of yore, and the images. Pixar understands the image possibly better than anyone, and how a simple movement can affect the audience.

And what does this sequence show? Really, it shows a life – the life of the main character, Carl, with his wife Ellie. Through picnics, coins in a jar and even in ties, it tells us everything we wanted to know about them – their joy and love, their hopes and smiles, their deferred dreams and their broken hearts. We see life in its purest form – in the little moments that show us everything we ever wanted to know about two people and their relationship.

It’s enough to make you need to break out the hankies. My cousin Karen said she cried so much during that sequence she had a hard time enjoying the rest of the movie, because she was curled up on the couch with a box of tissues. But for me, that sequence took a simply cute kid movie to something that almost reached sublime.

I don’t remember a movie from last year being so in touch with humanity and how we behave. Not even “The Hurt Locker,” the Oscar's best picture winner, came close to touching the soul and understanding people in their pure form, and “Up” did it in only five minutes. In many movies, we strive to see characters that we can identify with and be a part of. We don’t go to the movies to see fancy art – we go to feel something. It doesn’t matter what you feel, but it should reach you in a way that nothing else can.

Sometimes, when we go to the movies, we need to see ourselves on the screen. I realized how powerful this sequence was tonight simply hanging out with friends. We were laughing and eating, and eventually we all were dancing and singing to the music playing. It may not seem like much to most people – in fact, it’s probably not even a blip in the time-space continuum. But the love that we shared was so obvious in just this one moment of our lives, and it's something that I will embrace during dark times.

It’s a little slice of life that means everything in the long run. When I see Carl and Ellie, I see Ari and me, me and my friends or even me and my family being in each other’s lives and celebrating life and all the little moments that make it special, at the same time coming to terms at what may be the things that are unobtainable (I still try, although I’m not very successful, not to get a tear in my eye when I see Carl and Ellie at the doctor’s office) or dreams that we have put on the back burner.

Time passes, and people grow, move on, or come together. But some things will never change. Hopefully, among those it will be the love and the laughter we bring. We will see each other with new eyes, embrace life as it comes, and hold on to each other and go forward. I feel that this is the Jewish way of life.

So, in honor of seeing things with new eyes all while being true to home, I give you this brisket recipe. It’s a new take on an old favorite, and I happen to love the flavors, as it’s exactly what I wanted to achieve – a barbecue taste cooked in a Jewish fashion. Enjoy!

REINA’S BRISKET

2 large onions

36 cloves of garlic

1 2-pound brisket (see Quick Tip)

¾ cup ketchup

¼ cup soy sauce

3 tablespoons coffee grounds

1/4 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons black pepper

Preheat the over to 325 degrees.

Chop the onion thickly and layer at the bottom of a roasting dish with garlic cloves. Place the brisket on top.

In a small bowl, combine ketchup, soy sauce, coffee grounds, brown sugar and black pepper. Thin out slightly with water and pour over the brisket. Cover with foil.

Put in the over for 3 to 3 1/2 hours, spooning the juices over the brisket every so often to keep the meat moist. Once out of the oven, let rest for 10 to 15 minutes to redistribute the juices. Serve hot.

QUICK TIP: A brisket can be a very expensive cut of meat in the kosher world, so make sure that you pick out a good one, otherwise you may end up cooking it for even longer. The most important tip is to make sure it has enough fat – otherwise it will not get tender enough.

Culinary Experiments

If there’s one thing that I love to do in the kitchen, it’s experiment. It’s the thing that drives me to create recipes and to keep moving forward. I find that sometimes I’m at my best when it comes time to improvise, due to the fact that I just have to make a dish and don’t have time to run out for ingredients. Sometimes, you’ve gotta shake what your mama gave you.

In my case, what my mother gave me was over a dozen lemons from her lemon tree. I hate buying lemons sometimes, as I find they don’t seem to last as well as my mother’s do. Growing up with a lemon tree in the backyard does tend to spoil a girl when she’s looking for pure and simple acidity.

Bringing them home, Ari, of course, asked, “What are you going to do with all of them? Are you going to make lemon chicken?” Lemon chicken happens to be a delicious chicken dish my mother-in-law makes for Friday night that is so moist and juicy it simply falls off the bone. I’ve never gotten the recipe, and any time think I remember it, I totally blow it. But I am so much better when I am not trying to impersonate anyone. I come up with my one.

See this example: The other night, I worked hard to make my lasagna Florentine (for those who already love it, see the recipe here). Made the beschamel sauce, got the veggies ready, and worked hard to layer them and create a beautiful and hearty lasagna dish that I have become known for. Then it came time for dinner, and Ari looks at me and says, “What are we going to have with it?” Crap. Just like my husband to always question my kitchen authorita (because you have to RESPECT MY KITCHEN AUTHORITA!!!). All I could think of is a salad.

I had some baby beets, some chevre with honey, and baby spinach. I had a lemon and olive oil. It was time to put it together, and it only took five minutes. I served it to Ari, and he freaked out about how good this salad was – much more than the lasagna that took about an hour and a half to put together. I didn’t believe how good it was, until I tasted it.

All the flavors were there: the goat cheese, which had that slight taste of honey, accented the beets beautifully. The lemon brought a brightness to all of it and complemented the spinach’s strong flavor. The second time I made it, I added green onions – and it added a fresh tang. Next time, I’m bringing pine nuts to the party.

It made me realize that sometimes the best food items that come out of my kitchen are those that are pulled together at the last minute – Greek Orzo was one of those dishes that came together when I was scrambling to bring something to a Shabbat dinner, and is now a signature dish. Turkey Joes seemed to be another one of those dishes that I improvised and improved on with time, and when Ari just hears those words, he seems to sniff the air like a dog anticipating a treat.

Mind you, I do have plans about what I like to make in my kitchen – right now, my ambition is to create my own recipe for a goat cheese cheesecake for Shavuot and a key lime pie. But when it comes to creating food that is the stuff of legends, maybe I’m a bit better on the Top Chef route – which means taking a whole bunch of crazy stuff out of my fridge and cabinet and just going forward and working intuitively. After all, isn’t that sometimes what food is all about?

So, on that note, here the recipe for what I am calling the five-minute salad. Enjoy!

FIVE-MINUTE SALAD

3 cups baby spinach

3 baby beets or one whole beet, roasted (see Quick Tip 1)

2 green onions

Approximately 4 ounces goat cheese (see Quick Tip 2)

¼ cup pine nuts

Juice of ½ lemon

2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt

Place baby spinach in a bowl. Cut the beets into ½-inch pieces and add, and cut the green onions into ¼ inch pieces. Add to the bowl and top with pine nuts.

Crumble the goat cheese over the top of the salad. Juice the lemon over the salad, topping with the olive oil and salt to taste. Serve.

QUICK TIP 1: I buy my beets in the refrigerated section of Trader Joes and chop them at home, as beets can be super-messy business. EHow has a great link on how to roast, boil and even microwave beets so that you can add them into a salad. Here is the link: http://www.ehow.com/how_3093_cook-beets.html

QUICK TIP 2: I find that this recipe works with a goat cheese with honey, like my chevre with honey from above. If you can’t find it, regular goat cheese will work just as well.

Hollywood vs. Staying True to Yourself

In the past few weeks, I seem to have been spending a ton of time in the Hollywood area. I’ve been to Hollywood and Highland twice in the past week, and drove with my parents through the area that will take me up to the Hollywood sign when I decide to be adventurous one day.

I realize that the Hollywood I know is extremely different than the one that people think of when they visualize it. When people who don’t know Hollywood think of, an image of glamour comes to their minds. It’s the one that’s unobtainable, where we stand behind the metal grates that separate us from them, not unlike last night, when I was walking through and watched “normals” eyeing the premiere of “Letters to Juliet,” with the bright lights and standout red carpet.

Then there’s the real Hollywood – the one that’s gritty and rough, yet people still flock to simply because… well, it’s Hollywood. It’s the one where people find their favorite stars on the Walk of Fame and pose in costumes as Wonder Woman, Mr. Incredible and even Snoopy. Last night, as I sat in Hollywood and Highland eating dinner, I watched as Freddy Kruger, Darth Vader and Jason were going to pick up Mongolian Barbecue.

The most interesting thing that I noted as I saw them take off their respective masks and sit to talk with each other is that they could never show that they were normal down below while people were posing with them. The truth is that it seems like people don’t really want what’s real. The fact that it’s unobtainable makes it all the more attractive.

I have noticed that people seem to be more than willing to do what it takes to make it big, even sell their souls and do horrible things. Witness Alexis Neiers, the star of “Pretty Wild,” who stole from people in order to get her own television show with her family, and is now is going to jail. They’re willing to starve themselves in order to be thin enough, have themselves taken advantage of by people in the industry or have people lambast them for being either too this or too that.

Hollywood, it seems, wants us to hide away what makes us uniquely us. It’s a cookie cutter world that many people don’t seem to fit into. If we were all to fit in Hollywood, the girls would all be size 2, the guys would all look like Justin Bieber, because that’s what seems to sell. And, if we were to listen to Newsweek, we’d all have to be straight or completely closeted – no openly gay, because then no one would believe you, right?

I remember that someone I knew once compared Hollywood – the idea of it, the concept of fitting in – to be a lot like high school. If you we’re perfect, the pressure was on you to become so. If you were strange, you were constantly gossiped about for trival things, like the shape and color of your glasses or whether you gained five pounds. The only difference? High school ended in four years.

I always wonder what would happen if I approached Hollywood, telling them that I’m kosher. Would they provide special food for me? Probably not. If I said I was a vegetarian, that would be one thing – half of Hollywood seems to be, so I’d fit right in. But the fact of the matter is that it makes me too different to actually be kosher – and actually identify me as Jewish (because even though Hollywood has a ton of Jews in it, they tend to be secular and frown down upon Jewish identity).

And then I realized that being myself is one of the most important things in the world to me. I never wanted a cookie-cutter life, and have anyone tell me who I have to be and who I can never be. I sought control over my own life, particularly over these past weeks, where I have explored the issue a lot deeper than I have in the past. I am so happy to carve my own path in this world, simply just by being who I am: young, broke and kosher. And if I get to Hollywood? They’ve got another thing coming.

So in honor of being a little bit different, here is my recipe for “oven-fried” BBQ chicken strips with sweet slaw. P’tayavon!

“OVEN-FRIED” BBQ CHICKEN STRIPS WITH SWEET SLAW

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into strips

1 cup barbecue sauce

1/4 cup olive oil

2 cups of plain bread crumbs

1 1/8 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon ground cumin

¾ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon pepper

For the Slaw:

1 can corn

1 can black beans

1 red onion

1 cup grated carrot

¼ cup cilantro.

1 cup apple cider vinegar

3 tablespoons honey

Marinate boneless, skinless chicken breast strips in barbecue sauce and ½ cup olive oil, along with salt and pepper to taste. Combine plain bread crumbs with garlic powder, salt, pepper and ground cumin.

Meanwhile, combine one can of corn, black beans, red onion, grated carrot and cilantro in a bowl. Create dressing using apple cider vinegar, honey, salt and the remaining olive oil with a dash of garlic powder. Pour over ingredients. Allow several hours to marinate.

Roll chicken strips in breadcrumb mixture and place on a foil-covered baking sheet. Heat at 475 for 10 minutes. Serve on top of slaw.

The Old (Haunted) Apartment

Ari and I have been having a debate for a long time, and one that I am convinced won’t end. It is not unlike the one on the X-Files between Agents Mulder and Scully. Like their argument, both involve the paranormal. In their case, it was mainly aliens. Ours is a curse – and possibly a ghost – in our apartment.

I should probably explain this first. When I moved down to Long Beach, Ari and I had to find a place for us to live outside of his cruddy studio apartment. He kept looking, and eventually put down his name for what is now our current place in Lakewood. When I came to tour it, something seemed off about it. It wasn’t in the nicest of neighborhoods and it was not my cup of tea. But the landlord seemed nice, and the price for rent was good considering the area, so we went forward.

We moved in, much to the disappointment of both our sets of parents, thinking we could have done much better. And then, about a month after we moved in, things started taking a turn for the worse for us.

First there was the fact that I quit my job. Then there was running through our savings after I quit said job. Then I got a job, but shortly afterwards we found out Ari was losing his. Then he was unemployed, followed by me being unemployed eight months later. All of these cycles have led to disharmony when we are at home, but we always seem to find happiness and joy when we leave it. It seems to be a cycle that just doesn’t end.

You may say that it’s just a streak of bad luck. I wish it were, but there seem to be other mysterious goings-on. It’s cold almost all the time. When I was unemployed the first time around, there was a rapping noise coming from the next apartment – and there was no one living there and no one going in and out. There have been constant problems with our apartment, whether it’s been the electricity, the garbage disposal or any variety of bugs (ew). And every time I get up at night, simply just to go to the bathroom, I get the sense that there is someone else in the apartment. I have felt this way for over two years. So it may be a curse, but also a spiritual anomaly.

Ari refuses to believe, because ghosts are something that’s just totally impractical, right? And yet, I have friends who are incredibly reluctant to come into our apartment because they are sensing something there. A friend of mine once said to me, “Dude, I don’t believe in ghosts, but there’s something in your apartment.” And my dad, the ultimate believer in practicality, told me there are “bad vibes” coming from our building. So, despite the fact I am paranoid, it isn’t just me.

I was going to ask our landlord who lived in our apartment previously, but Ari said what the landlord told him that it was a guy who was addicted to drugs who had a hard time paying his rent, and was eventually forced out. I have no other history than that, but there seems to be other bad happenings in all the different apartments – like the apartment I toured, where the tenants left because of a divorce, or one of our former neighbors, which I suspected was a drug dealer – it seems like bad things are drawn to our place.

Mind you, we have some distinct advantages of living where we do. Our landlord, Dave, is amazing, and our neighbors can’t be beat. They are really nice people, and the kids are pretty well behaved. Not to mention the fact that our rent is still inexpensive and hasn’t been raised since we moved in, a major advantage we have had since we have both been unemployed. But how much are you willing to pay to live without a spirit anomaly?

Unfortunately, we cannot give up the ghost (or whatever may be lurking in our place) until both Ari and I have jobs, although right now one is enough to send me sprinting towards the hills and away from the spiritual anomaly in our house right now. But then there is the curse – it seems we are trapped at the moment. But I am looking forward to the day that we can move out of our place and move to Belmont Shore if we choose to stay in Long Beach or, if we go to Orange County, move down to Irvine. Because there aren’t any ghosts there – right?

So, in honor of my spiritual anomaly, I am dedicating to it a recipe. It’s a wonderful summery recipe. Maybe if I give it a recipe on the blog, it will leave me alone long enough to let me get a job.

MANGO-STRAWBERRY SALAD

1 package frozen mangos, defrosted

10 strawberries

1 small sweet onion or shallot

1 can black beans, drained and rinsed

¼ cup cilantro

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 tablespoon olive oil

Salt and pepper

Place the defrosted mango in a bowl. Dice the strawberries finely – the pieces should be ¼ inch. Dice the onion or shallot, and add the black beans.

Coarsely chop the cilantro and add to the mixture. Add the lemon juice and olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste. Allow to sit for at least an hour to allow the flavors to meld. Serve.