Prop 2 Update

hi guys, i'm on vacation so i'll make this short, but i wanted to say that i did make a decision on prop 2, i voted yes on it, i think you should too. here's a post from a blog on sfgate.com that really swayed me. that's it, happy monday, catch ya later!

(the original indecision)

Greetings from....

Puerto Vallarta! (well, technically Mismaloya.) Taking a minivacation, can't find the punctuation I want on the keyboard, only been here a few hours and already had fish tacos (while staring directly at the beach). So far, so good. Back next week!

Getting Our Nacho On

[Apparently none of you cares about the chickens, so we're trying something a little easier today: sweet, glorious nachos.]

I don't know if we've talked about it here, but I love nachos. I do. But not as much as my friend Brad does. When Brad told me that yesterday, October 21, is the International Day of the Nacho, obviously we had to celebrate.

It had to be at Lotería because they have the best nachos in town, and I'm a loyalist having gone to the Farmer's Market one five thousand times, but this time we went a bit out of our way to check out to the new Lotería Grill in Hollywood because, well, they have margaritas. So we rounded up our people, and alit on Lotería. They didn't know what hit them (mainly because they didn't know about the International Day of the Nacho. For shame!) Here are some numbers for you:

- people in our party: 13
- ginormous plates of nachos, piled on with black beans, cheese, green salsa, scallions, tomatoes, optional meats, and delicious broily goodness: 7
- times the stories of Ignacio Ayana -- the inventor of nachos, and Carmen Rocha -- the Nacho Queen of El Cholo, responsible for bringing the fantastic stuff to LA (who sadly, passed away last week, just missing the holiday that celebrates her calling), were told or mistold: 4
- frighteningly strong margaritas, palomas (that's right kids, it's like a margarita, but with Squirt. Classy!), and Bohemias: lost count at 11
- micheladas ordered, despite fascinating variations like the the one with Worcestershire and Maggi sauce, and the spicy michelada enchilada: 0
- bus boys that sang along with me when "Oye Mi Amor" came on, then hit on me incoherently en español: 1
- depressing Aimee Mann songs that came on in between the mix of fun Spanish pop: 1
- sad little Mini Coopers that got towed(!) from the deceptively amazing spot around the corner from the restaurant: 1, mine.

The moral of the story, other than that nachos are good and we should eat them often, is that the new Lotería Grill is a Good Thing. I love a place where I can get a really tasty meal (along with the all the menu items from the Farmer's Market stand, they also had awesome-sounding specials like Veracruz-style red snapper and 2 kinds of shrimp tacos) and a cocktail for not too much money, in a casual, but really energized setting that's not at all a scene, from a friendly team of servers. It seems simple, but it's hard to find. I just wish the Hollywood that surrounded it, and its obnoxious parking pitfalls, didn't suck so bad.

But still, go there! (Park carefully!) Eat nachos!

Loteria Grill is at 6627 Hollywood Blvd., just east of Cherokee.

Prop 2: What Do I Do?

Friends, I'm completely torn. I've read the Fast Food Nation, and all the Michael Pollan, The Food Revolution, Animal Vegetable Miracle, and more. I've pored through countless articles, blog posts, and stories about the sorry state of our food supply and the plague of factory farming. I know the plight of the chickens. It's pretty awful for them, and they pass on the yuck to us: in the form of diseases and the antibiotics they have to take to combat them.

So, there are all sorts of reasons that conceptually, giving chickens, as well as other livestock, adequate room to turn around and spread their limbs and wings is a good, good thing. But then, the LA Times isn't endorsing Proposition 2: They fear that the high costs will drive the egg industry out of California, just exporting the inhumanity, rather than eliminating it, all the while decreasing our options for local eggs.

So, I'm confused. Is this Prop 2 pro-farmer, or against him? Is it too much to ask our state's egg industry? What's more important -- eggs from humanely-raised chickens, or eggs produced locally? Or can we have both? After all, the Proposition's limitations wouldn't kick in until 2015 -- ample time to figure out alternatives to the current system.

I want to hear your opinions. Please share your thoughts in the comments and help me figure this out! How are you going to vote on Proposition 2?

[thanks to chez pim for the photo]

nicky! birthday!

things i learned at nick's birthday dinner last night:
- there is a hershey theme park in hershey, pennsylvania. a theme park all about chocolate!
- heinz is the pride of pittsburgh. never serve that cheapo albertson's ketchup to a local.
- meatloaf in muffin pans is as adorable as it is delicious. (but why stop there? i'm envisioning a meat bundt.)
- a candelabra hanging in a tree is very, very dreamy.
- the ISO setting on my camera is the most amazing thing in the world ever.
- oh, but nick's grandma's ginger snaps! a respectable second.

After My Own Heart

a glass of white and the crossword? not a bad way to spend a sunday.

Sunday is made for genmai-cha

Today I got an email from the editor of the Shofar, an Iranian Jewish quarterly that my dad has a hand in publishing. She wants me to contribute something to their winter issue, which is very exciting. I started to reply, but quickly realized it's not going to be a one-liner. I put on some hot water, and pulled out a couple cookbooks. It was time to do some research.

Let's face it: this isn't a coffee home. The coffee I make in my little French press never comes out as good as I'd like, and the stupid Senseo I got for 'free' is a swill-machine that ust takes up precious counter space. We do tea really well though. Today was the day for genmai-cha: a nutty-tasting Japanese blend of green tea and toasted brown rice. I have a fancy tin of the stuff I was given as a gift -- really great tea from an Australian company called Tease. Perfect after a night of over-imbibing, I boiled some water and poured it directly over the leaves. I'm always skeptical that the leaves, toasted rice grains, and twiggy bits will actually settle to the bottom and let me drink in peace, but they always do.

Then began the 'quick reply', which was in fact a deliciously satisfying archaeological dig through many topics and many media, just what I love. Pore through old interviews from the cookbook, looking for Hanukkah-related recipes. There are none. Find an old sufganiyot recipe, get reminded of its symbolism -- doughnuts fried in oil to symbolize the ancient miracle of one day's oil lasting eight days. Take a couple sips, burn tongue, call Violet and Saeed to ask if there are any Persian fritters that would be suitable for Hanukkah. Settle into bed a little deeper. Find the recipe for zoloubia -- fried funnel-cake-like sweets doused generously in a honey syrup, in Najmieh Batmanglij's New Food of Life. Hmm. Kind of a stretch though. Ooh, there's a page on the winter solstice feast. Carrot brownies? Fascinating. Whoa, carrot pudding. Saffron pudding. Crap, I digress.

Pour more hot water over the now-soggy leaves. Pull out my beloved Book of Jewish Food; consult. Claudia Roden has never let me down, and once again, she holds the answer: apparently Egyptian Jews eat fritters called 'zalabia' at Hanukkah time. Zoloubia is not a stretch at all. (And for Russian Hanukkah, you douse a sugarcube with brandy, set it on fire, and throw it in your tea. Not even remotely relevant, but rad!).

It comes to this: All I want to do is sit on my bed and read Claudia Roden and write and pour glass after glass over my soggy tea leaves, but alas, errands call. All I did was answer one email. How is it already noon?!

shana tova!

The typical Rosh Hashana image here in the states is of apples dipped in honey for a sweet new year, but in our Iranian Jewish family, for two nights in a row, our spread has a whole set of symbolic foods, and the whole thing has a strange 'exotic soul food' bent to it: roasted beets, cow's tongue (accompanied of course by the annual demonstration of the sound of a tongueless cow mooing, thank you cousin Sadaf), black eyed peas, fried zucchini, dates, and a big bowl of sweet-tart pomegranate seeds. Whatever your particular tradition, here's to a year of sweetness and peace for our community and our world.

On Cousins and Tomatoes

I have 25 aunts, uncles, first cousins, first cousins' spouses, and first cousins once removed here in Los Angeles. Most of these people are Persian, and yet, it's incredibly rare that we all go to the park together for a picnic. It's like we don't know we're Persian or something. So it was quite a miracle when, earlier this summer, all 25, plus myself and my own family and even a few relatives we brought in from Chicago, all alit upon unassuming Genesta Park in lovely Encino, California for a big old cousinpalooza; potluck picnic, card-playing, impromptu breaking out into song, softball, and in the great tradition of our people, tres leches cake for my mom's birthday. (Oh, and in the other great tradition of our people, a fight over pepperoni pizza.)

I've been really feeling this eat-local stuff lately, so I thought I would go ultra-local: My idea was to make a bread salad featuring tomatoes from Tapia Brothers, a little farm right in Encino with a market in front. It being the middle of summer, I thought I'd be able to get a variety - heirlooms, different colors, etc. When I got there though, for all the market's quaintness, they had one type of tomato and it was kind of ridiculously expensive. Hightailed it back to Whole Foods, who actually did have a good variety (including a basket of multicolored baby tomatoes -- perfect for this salad), and amazingly, at a reasonable price.

Some of the kids thought the pale yellow tomatoes were actually potatoes or some other random vegetable, but once they got past the initial shock, this simple salad was a hit with everyone from the oldest uncles to the tiniest cousins.

Tomato Bread Salad

Only make this salad with really good tomatoes, as it doesn't do much other than than showcase tomatoes (Note: even though it's technically fall, there are still pretty delicious tomatoes to be found around these parts). If you are not eating it immediately, store bread and salad separately, and toss together a few minutes before serving.

your favorite bread, cut into chunky cubes (A day or two old is fine.)
extra virgin olive oil
a variety of tomatoes, roughly diced
fresh minced garlic, to taste (I used only one clove, as too much raw garlic kind of grosses me out)
fresh basil, chopped
balsamic vinegar, the tiniest drizzle
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat broiler. Toss cubed bread with a little olive oil. Broil until toasted and slighty brown in parts. In a large bowl, combine remaining ingredients, along with additional olive oil. A few minutes before serving, add bread to tomato mixture and toss to combine.

I Guess I Like Fusion

Awesome article in today's LA Times about a few 'fusion' places in LA. It features interviews with two of my favorite local food people, Tai Kim of Scoops and Viet Tran of Viet Noodle Bar in Atwater Village.

The article isn't talking about fusion in the sense of weird Asian-French-Indian-Mexican hybrids, but rather a more organic fusion that comes with starting with a set of tried and true recipes, then tweaking them according to the new and exciting ingredients available here in abundant Southern California. I like this. Tai makes fun of hipsters and calls his particular style 'confusion', and Viet is fascinating and sweet in introducing us to bits of Vietnamese cuisine we never imagined existed.

Both men, along with Jorge Mora, the the man behind the Guadalajaran smoothies (with a SoCal twist, of course) at Olimpus Juices (I have to -- have to -- go here! Like, now.), get into the artistry behind creating their flavors and the Zen-like concentration with which they craft their product, whether it's ice cream, soy milk, or smoothie. Go read now.

More:

• My own chat with Viet a few months back.

• My long-standing love affair with Scoops. (What's not mentioned: the pint of white chocolate/mint/banana that Tai gave me as a birthday gift on Monday night. See that? Love.)

[thanks to sarah palmer for the photo]