marlena spieler

rachel you are brilliant! and so is everyone whos buyin my book! grilled cheese is such a culinary icon which we all do and yet one day i thought: no one's done a book on it and wouldn't it be wacky and wonderful to just get into it in a big way, put in print all the yummy things we were doing between the covers (of bread that is!). it was a thrill to take grilled cheese to the nth degree, also really delish to see so many people really getting into it! so, winesonoma, go into that kitchen and melt some cheese. and think of me! marlena ps husband is so addicted to grilled cheese sandwiches now i don't know how i'm going to wean him off. no matter whats on the menu, he looks up at me with puppydog eyes and says: grilled cheese on toast? and i mean, he wants a shag every day now, and i don't mean in the british meaning of the word. he wants an austin power sandwich!

my god woman - you are pornographic...i'm blushing but i can't look away. i'm buying your book immediately. mmmm, at your service (grilled cheese-wise i hasten to add). i'm always ready to oooze.......and crunch........and schmear and melt........and dip, and smack, and smoosh in my mouth.......and sniff.....ohmigod, what am i doing, i'm embarrassing even myself. the cat has just covered her eyes with her paws.....so she can't see what i'm tapping. she has her dignity. enjoy your grilled cheese samwhich. marlena and tana butler, those are very cute goats. i'm going to be in area this autumn, would love to come see those cute critters.

Yes, Jason, I indeed did formulate the austin powers' shag-a-delic myself. i was awash in a whole seventies feeling with the trashy messy yummy totally tasteless and tasty thing, and i thought: you know, a dignified name just wouldn't be right. i made the filling years ago and ate it as a cold sandwich: diced cheddar, ham, pinapple, and mayo dressing, and kept adding to it. when i decided to do the grilled cheese book i thought: yeah, make a layer of cheese and grilled that sucker. and yes, yes, yes, the name came to me in a cholesterol-induced haze: i just thought the sandwich was so woowwweee seventies wacky and yum, that austin powers and shagadelic came to mind. and as a note, shag in britain means something slightly different from shag in america. it means sex. nice. and no, i didn't get permission to use austin powers moniker, didn't even think of it, i guess cause of the whole deli sandwich thing named after people. even fictional people. marlena ps: austin powers, just in case you are reading this, email me and i'll make you a funky ol' shag-a-delic that you won't soon forget. actually i don't think that anyone who eats the austin powers shag-a-delic forgets it.

i love that place! am pleased that senor squeat mungry goes there too! i always say i'm going to have a party there and invite friends to come and sit at the long table in the center of the room. there are so many things there i want to eat too. and the waitress is so sweet, and she had her baby, and i love to watch everyone around us (usually big hefty men) eat and see what they are eating. oh yes the spicy cabbage salad whats it called. the stuff served with pupusas. love it. x marlena

and non-chains don't do that? i've not found that to be the case. it seems once a place has more than a few outposts, or, :shudder:, stockholders, they are immediately branded. i would submit that an awful lot of non-chains deserve that branding just as much. yeah, sometimes they do, i said as much in my original posting. but you're a zillion times more likely to have good heartfelt soulful food that makes you feel good when you're eating real food, with a real person in the kitchen, and a real food philosophy. ethnic restaurants do this really well, sometimes. depending on the ethnicity. but chains.......and restaurants with too much hype leaves me cold. i maintain that you're still more likely to eat well at a restaurant whose owner run maximum two restaurants, maybe three but thats max. and thats only if they have family and friends who share the food philosophy. so that no one feels that the term food philosophy is high fallootin, or ponced up, or elitist........ i should clarify: a good diner fits into my category. a good mexican shack, pho joint, burger dive, taqueria, or french bistro. the endless chains i'm sorry just don't do it. for me. i feel swamped by the impersonal and deeply sad when i eat there. marlena

To clarify, thats actually a really nice thing to say, and i'm proud to come from a place where we have both gorgeous figs and gorgeous goats.......and we put them together every chance we can get. its just the comment was said in a manner of a put down. and its the put-down aspect that was uncalled for. the goats cheese and figs--alone or together-- as always fill me with joy. marlena

okay, guys, i promised my cousin and step daughter who i frequent the place with that i'd never share it (esp not in print)............they're worried the place will be swamped by middle class young foodies and that it will change. i like to go to Izalco, a salvatorean restaurant on 24th st or is it 16th, for amazing breakfasts. i like the black beans and crema best, along with the thick fat tortillas. even the ham is great, though i thought the huevos rancheros below par. love the atmosphere. you'll need a spanish lesson for ordering your meal. i dream about those tortillas and beans. marlena

Chains have no soul. Ah, but I do love a well made chicken pot pie or tuna salad. marlena Let's not be too anti-chain here, there are also many acclaimed restaurants that have no soul (been to Charlie Trotters lately)? just because chains have no soul--and maybe there is another word we need to use here instead of soul, i was just feeling trigger happy to press that reply button--i mean, food that is honest and made by humans rather than a business plan and an assembly line, though the truth is that a good taqueria can be like an assembly line but at least there is a human element of choice etc both front and back of the counter and office menu planning etc....... doesn't mean that there aren't "fine dining" destinations that lack soul as well. don't get me started, i can be scathing in this direction. What i'm saying is this: there has to be some sort of passion for food somewhere along the way, i feel sick shoving food in my face that is merely a vehicle for the owners of the chain or restaurant to make buckets of money. i at least want the feeling that the food is being made for me and that its healthy, and please don't laugh: made with love. of course sometimes it can be made with love and taste like...rubbish. but still, chains appeal to the lowest common denominator, to sell the most meals, and buy the cheapest ingredients, to make the most money, and are truly a dumbing down experience foodwise. okay, though i do like a nice lavish salad bar now and again. marlena

we know peanut butter is a good match for those cheese cracker and peanut butter sandwich things you get out of vending machines in bus terminals and college dormitories. Chutney on top of this sounds interesting. Maybe mango chutney. BTW bought a whole pint of fresh figs today from the farmers market in anticpation of using it with some of the recipes in your book. I really want to make that ultra-goyishe Austin Powers sandwich too. Brilliant, Jason! peanut butter on cheese crackers, how great a combo is that, points the way to fine things with our peanut butter extravaganza....... and yeah, if we're doing chutney, its gotta be an anglo-indian one like mango, sweet and spicy but not too hot. and oh, fresh figs: yesterday I made a salad of: wild arugula (the kind that is long and kinda weedy and has a fine nippy flavour, then scattered shaved fennel, wedges of fat juicy black figs, and slabs of milky sweet manouri cheese over the top, extra virgin olive oil and balsamico drizzled over it all, and a grinding of coarse black pepper. once in Bulgaria, in the little town of Melnick, I ate the most divine preserved whole figs in syrup. they tasted as if they had been plucked from a honey tree. when i exclaimed that i thought they would be delish with goats cheese one of the british journalists i was with remarked: you can take the girl out of california but you can't take california out of the girl. i'm still annoyed at that, cause no doubt about it: figs and goats cheese, nice nice nice. re: austin powers shagadelic: you are so right. it is the most goyishe thing i've ever eaten. x marlena

ps: a tuna melt on a half a bagel, the cheese melted under the broiler is one of my all time favourites. i make the tuna sort of spanish style, with roasted red peppers, paprika, onions and olives added to the mix. and a zesty funky cheese to melt on top.

hi soba, as a bagel lover you can bet i made grilled cheese sammies on bagels but i'm telling you: you can't make a closed grilled cheese on a bagel cause its the heaviest substance on this planet, the cheese oozes out and all you have left is a heavy greasy bagel. but open faced, thats another story: a classic! i especially love toasted bagels--onion, garlic or everything--spread hot with ripe ripe brie, not exactly a grilled cheese sandwich but close enough. then i warm it gently under the broiler but not to melt it to the extent of melty and crispy and grilled cheesey. I LOVE this bagel and brie sandwich. also, sometimes i use st marcellin and dribble it with truffle oil. but you gotta do this on a nice crisp baguette or sour leavain, not a bagel for this one. Jason: I LIKE YOUR IDEA for the elvis presley extravaganza, and must admit that i just didn't go far enough with my book. i think i coulda got baroque and wacked out but you know, there was an editor and a publisher to think about, but yeah: peanut butter, bacon and banana, and i bet there is just the right cheese to fiddle around with there! do you think a little chutney next to the peanut butter, before the bacon and banana and cheese? i find that a little tempting........ as for my dinner right now.........i'm making eggplants filled with kefalotyri cheese, simmered in tomato sauce with garlic and a dash of vinegar. from the island of zakynthos, and while not exactly a grilled cheese sandwich, i'm gonna be dipping my bread into it all. yum.

Dear JGarner: oooooh, you. Don't even ask about what we've done with cheese and bread chez spieler. doesn't that cheese oooze gorgeously........ and Jackal10! oh yeah, i'm so with you on this one, and even have a recipe in my book for cheese, worcester sauce, tabasco and an egg. oh god sometimes this is what i have to have! As Jason, you are so right that a good strong blue or Cheddar would be nice on a sour dense rye and fruit/raisin bread, but i might extend that to cover a firm goat. x even after writing a whole book on grilled cheese sandwiches, i still start salivating at the drop of a mention: grilled.......cheese........yeah, i'm in that kitchen. what are the favourite things to go with them? i like homemade tomato soup, the acidic tangy quality. and i also like bread and butter pickles, mustard seed pickled onions, and also a bowl of cherry tomatoes or grape tomatoes for juicy fresh bites. someone suggested french fries but i think its just too heavy, i like to revel in the richness without getting overwhelmed too soon. but i might make an exception for crisps, salt and vinegar crisps. Does anyone do bacon grilled cheese? I only do it if i can add lashings of not too hot chipotle salsa to it. mmmmmm marlena

Chains have no soul. Ah, but I do love a well made chicken pot pie or tuna salad. marlena

Which bakery IS your favourite? I'm very very interested.......always on a quest for the best bread; i must admit to not being that bothered by the croissant thing as i eat enough croissants in france, and anyhow they are so rich i don't necessarily want to eat them every day........but. bread, bread i want every day, and its only worth eating iif wonderful, totally wonderful........ pascal rigo does some fine bread; i ate some recently that was: crisy crusted, spongey crumbed, sour natural levain.....really good. anyhow, i'm an old life long san franciscan whose lived off and on in mission, pac hights , clement and glen park....though i'm in europe most of the time now, only in san francisco about 3 or 4 times a year now........so i'm aware of different vibes and san fran vibes, but i've noticed that its not just the mission, but the whole of san francisco that has an attitude.....sometimes...............sorry to say cause i am a san franciscan at heart, and in fact in much of my life and time. and as such, I am very proud of the bay areas tradition of good bread, hard to beat almost anywhere.......sf bread is just such a high standard. wish i had some now. would love to go to tartine with you, i'm not sure who i'm staying with next trip, but i can tell you that i'll be around mid october through november, so: coffee and croissant anyone? cheers, marlena

also, sheer sensual pleasure, of course. and transmittting culture too.

Dear Daybaker, Your comments about hard working people behind counter are, i'm sure, spot on. hey, i've worked counters like this before, dealing with a busy store is never easy. and being busy is what a cafe/bakery wants, so it is its own success that keeps them overly busy.......and keeps the counterstaff a bit overwhelmed perhaps...... similarly, tartine owners can't be responsible for the snotty attititude of their customers, i mean, thats demographics of.....i don't know, the san francisco/mission/aren't we cool thingie....... but still......taking these things into consideration........when i think of tartine, instead of thinking about the gorgeous smell of croissants, the waft of yeasty bread that smells so accute you can almost smell the crunch of the crust.......instead of thinking about the really lovely aspects....... instead i think of the bad vibes, and the counter woman who just kinda sneared at me and treated me like a martian, a very ignorant martian who knows absolutely nothing about french bakery items (and why should i want to scream out: hey, i spend as much time in france as i do in s.f.? to justify my existence in their shop.). and no one else was wearing a smile or giving off good vibes, so i felt alone. i mean, i've been there a few times and only one time did it really bother me, but then again i think i reflected that it bothered my husband a lot more. as for me: i'm a bit of a food slut in that if something is good, i'll pretty much go through anything to get there and eat it. the bread not being available until the afternoon does make a kind of sense, though is inconvenient. why not bread for lunch and bread for dinner, as in france? anyhow, perhaps i should have contacted the owners and complained but everyone was soooooo i don't know, everyone was sort of acting the same cool as in i couldn't be bothered, so i figured that that was the way the owners wanted it to be. i'll go back to tartine and give it another chance, next time i'm in san fran to teach my classes etc, if i can find a parking place, and will see how i feel that time. but i don't want to leave a bakery and feel horrible, the whole point of exceptional food to me is.......life enhancing......it makes a person feel better about the human condition........ also i thought the coffee was bad. maybe its better now. anyhow, i 'll give it a shot, and if its a similar nasty atmosphere, i'll complain to the owners. And if its really nice, i'll post my feelings about it being REALLY NICE right here on this thread. howz that? marlena

re: Squeat's experience at Tartine. After a few fantastic croissant (llucky i guess) and terrible coffee, and really really bad attitude, and wonderful bread that was not only not available but the words uttered to me with a sneer on the face of the woman behind the counter (apparantly i'm not cool enough to eat their bread)...... i just thought: i will go to great lengths for good bakery products but is this worth it? my husband was less generous than i, and he is filled with venom and an urge to get even with them for treating us like ****. In fact, just mention the name or drive by, and he's, like, i hate that place, who do they think they are, etc. sad isn't it. but still, if i have a place to park, and there is no line, and it is bread time......i'll make that stop. but i won't drink the coffee, and i won't smile nicely as i always feel like smiling whenever i'm around delicious food........... anyhow, and i always live in hope that it will have better vibes next time.... marlena

i want details on the pickle place on e 19th, please oh please. i wish my next trip to new york to include a pickle quest, though the truth is that all of my trips through new york have a pickle quest componant. my trip through life has a pickle quest componant.

whats the road like into morelia? i was there a zillion years ago, and totally charmed, what an unexpected gem, so colonial, so exquisite, i remember bouganvilla climbing a pink spanish looking building twisting around the wrought iron as it climbed...... however i also remember that as delighted as i was to be in such a beautiful and delicious place, the road in was scarey, real scary. we might have come by bus from patzcuaro, maybe there is an easier way? i remember sheer drops from cliffs and mountainsides and a bus driver who really enjoyed passing the cars in our side of the road. fast. and i think he was wearing a blindfold. who wouldn't? it was too scary to look at. thanks, marlena ps this is such a marvellous posting, so really thoughtful and rich with tasty detail. a million gracias!

I remember the first time I noticed Julia Child. I was switching channels on television-- probably looking for cartoons--when the screen flickered onto this woman happily chopping, huffing and puffing around the kitchen, her distinctive high-pitched voice cheerfully narrating all. She looked directly at me, or so I thought at the time; now I know she looked right into the camera. A minute or two later, she was clutching a huge fish, flipping it around lovingly; I thought: "this looks like fun, I wonder if she's on next week?" She was neither fussy nor girly-girly; she didn't worry about her style or lack of it, her hair wasn't bouffant and piled on top of her head, and her manicure was subtle if it indeed existed at all. She wasn't glamorous, she was having fun. Her show wasn't wholly about dazzling guests; it was all about joy in learning the process. Julia seemed to love, really love, teaching these dishes that would forever enrich our lives. She was enjoying being in that kitchen, and sent the message: not only is it okay to have fun in the pursuit of your next meal, it will probably be more delicious if you do. The food was French, but it was also, in a straightforward wholesome way, American too. Until then, with the exception of my grandmother--one of lifes happy, naturally good cooks--cooking was a matter of "woman's burden". Magazines adhered either to "Get it on to the table, with the help of any convenience food you need" or dealt with food as a symbol of status, suffused with snooty, a symbol of the good life, allowing one to only partake if one was sufficiently rich and stylish. I thought then, as I have all of my life, that this equation made sense: snobbery+food=stupid. Somehow, watching Julia on that little screen, she let me know she was right there with me on this. Julia's presentation was so sincere that I felt--along with a whole generation-- she really wanted to impart to me the secret of.......... onion soup ("good stock"), boning a chicken ("just follow the bones, follow the bones") and wrapping a leg of lamb in pastry (duxelles inbetween the crust and the meat--I think I made this dish simply because I liked the way she pronounced "en croute" in that fabulous voice of hers, though the lamb did in fact, turn out delish). And she used real butter, and cream, buckets of the stuff! Julia--and when was it a whole nation of us began referring to her by first name only as if she was not only our best friend, but the only Julia in the world--Julia welcomed us into the kitchen. Later, as I travelled through Europe, I was seduced by other French cuisine cookbook writers whose musings were lyrical, evocative. Yet when I tried to cook from them, things were often vague, or shrouded in class conciousness; sometimes they were written by male chefs who seemed to disdain his women "pupils" who could never be, by dint of their sex, serious cooks. With Julia, though, you got respect! You were already a serious cook simply because you had the book open and were following along. And as you followed, all was explained. You were never alone facing kitchen hurdles, Julia was by your side, navigating the intricacies of a bain marie or a puff pastry, answering all of your questions before you even had time to formulate them. She was your pal in the kitchen, and at times, your kitchen confident; and at other times such as when she famously dropped that chicken--or was it a duck, or a huge potato rosti, who remembers exactly which----she was your partner in crime. I loved the way she got me to think of new foods that I might not have learned to eat--this was a long time ago, remember. Duxelles for instance! I don't think I had ever eaten a mushroom, and here was my trusted culinary guru telling me: "duxelles" and pronouncing them "dukes-ells" in such a rich, juicy way that I had to make them as soon as I could get to the market for the mushrooms. I don't think that we ate a meal without finely chopped mushrooms for months, so keen was I on perfecting this dish. When food processors came out, one of the first things I thought: Oh, my duxelles will be much easier now! Julia taught me how easy it is to bone a chicken breast--and how much cheaper, too, rather than buy them boned; and how once you could bone a chicken breast you could snip the breast out of any bird at all! I loved the way she explained cuts of mean by gleefully patting the right spots on her own body! She taught me it was okay, no, make that imperative, to sniff as you go: pick up a sprig of herb, chunk of cheese, a round ripe tomato, and inhale deeply: as much as part of cooking as chopping and timing. She also taught me to be fearless in the kitchen, and as anyone who's seen me in full force of cooking, will note that it was something I took to readily. Julia taught me that bechamel is simply white sauce with a French accent, and that it is very useful indeed--especially when combined with a bit of pureed blanched vegetables, grated cheese and beaten egg (something I've carried through my life since I saw Julia do it; in fact, earlier in the day before the announcement of her passing, I was whipping up a little bechamel, thinking: "I've got some nice broccoli in the fridge, and a lovely chunk of Emmenthal"). And she taught me to wash and spin my salads, wrap them in a clean towel and stick them in the fridge to rest during the preparation of the rest of the meal: the lettuce is so crisp! And she taught me that I didn't need a vegetable steamer if I had a French basket for washing and spinning lettuce. As much a culinary icon in America, Julia's reach didn't extend to Britain and other parts of the world where I"ve spent much of my life. Therefore, she was very much my touchstone whenever I returned to America. After my first trip to France I dove head first into the mysteries of what I ate "over there". Piperade had charmed me, so I found piperade (show 133, The French Chef) and followed directions to a T. It tasted like Paris. And after falling in love with cassoulet, I headed into my California kitchen with the appropriate pages and pages in "Mastering". Though the three days it took me to perform this cooking feat left me too tired to enjoy the eating, I learned so much about cassoulet that the famous dish is etched into my bean-loving brain. Though the cassoulet I make today is a decidedly streamlined version, I'll always think of the pages and pages of Julia's directions and be happy for the experience. I learned about beans, I learned about roasting meats and making confit, and don't forget Toulouse sausages! all was revealed in the preparation of making cassoulet. I then tackled Boeuf Bourguignon using a California Zinfandel and felt pioneering in the spirit of our new emerging California cuisine. What I really have Julia to thank for, technique wise, is crepes. I"m famous with friends and family for the way I can whip up a batch of crepes, definately with my eyes shut, possibly with my hands tied behind my back. I--and all of my crepe loving dear ones--owe it all to Julia. When faced with making crepes the first time, Julia is who I turned to. It was a wise move. The recipe called for 3 eggs and included using both milk and water, something I still do. She said let the batter rest for 2 hours to relax, so I wouldn't think of doing otherwise--I mean, I like to relax too. Again, I followed her directions and have never looked back. In a sense she has paved my life with delicate tender crepes, and my daughter who grew up eating them nearly every Sunday undoubtedly offers her gratitude. There was something else I learned from Julia and it wasn't about food: I learned that a person can be very famous and still be very nice. It happened like this: a number of years ago we were both in a television green room waiting for our moments in front of the camera. Julia was with her sister, two tall happily chatting "girls" and rather than chat amongst themselves they included me. The three of us yabbered on and on--about nothing really, and I didn't even have a chance to gush and gush and gush as I really wanted to do, It was cozy and fun and how many times do you meet your idol, an iconic celebrity, and find out that she is simply a down to earth nice person. And for awhile, every so often out of the blue, Julia would drop me a note about something, such as seeing an article I wrote in Europe, or the importance of metrification. Being based in Europe for so long, I missed her programmes with Jacques Pepin and other appearances over the past decade or two. Luckily, however, I caught a visit she made to The Today Show in honor of her 90th birthday. She was directing Katy Couric as to whipping cream--Julia's hands were less steady and I can imagine producers saying: get Katy to do it, it'll be quicker. Julia instructed Katy to open the vanilla, but the bottle wouldn't open. Katy was flustered, and then Julia grabbed that familiar brown bottle, put the red cap directly between her teeth, bit down hard and twisted! The cap came right off, and Julia tipped the bottle over, and poured--not dripped-- in the fragrant vanilla, without bothering with the trouble of measuring. She tasted it and uttered: "perfect!". I thought: This is why the woman is my hero!

Besides her television show, and the way as a young firl I followed her cookbooks through the ins and outs of souffle making and crepe layering, duck roasting and chicken carving, the thing I'll remember Julia Child for was her kindness and warmth. She was so kind and warm when I met her and over the years would drop a line about this and that. I had no idea how on earth she remembered me. So very very sad to leave the planet even at such an advanced age, with so many people wanting to keep you here. When my grandmother died at a similar age not long ago, i was touched to my deepest heart to see the people whose lives she had touched. And how many lives did Julia touch? How many people did she make happy, or give them the tools to make themselves happy (ie to cook well). I mean, to leave behind so many good feelings and waves of happiness that run through so many people--generations--, hers was certainly a life for us all to celebrate having existed. marlena

gosh, maybelline, maybe the rich ones have two pillowcases. and maybe the rest sleep with their cheese (that would be my preference)! seriously, for a quickie version of pretza, for those without ready access to both fresh sheeps milk and a pillowcase, just mash up feta cheese and add in enough sheeps milk Greek yogurt to make a smoothins paste. alance flavours with a drop of lemon juice and a few grains of salt. Spread onto a plate, and as Tassia the village baker does, drizzle the top with extra virgin olive oil and sprinkle it with crushed thyme. eat with crusty toasted whole-ish sour-ish pain levain. yummy. marlena

My favourite breakfast, lunch, or sometimes dinner, is sourdough wholeish grain bread, like a pain levain, or a wheatberry/granary bread. Toasted crisp. cooled somewhat so that the butter spread onto it does not melt. Then i top it with thick slices of avocado, squeeze a ton of lemon on top, and sprinkle it with coarse salt. I can either top it with a couple of green onions and eat it like this, or eat the green onion on the side, bite for bite with the avocado toast. A favourite favourite food!

The first time I tasted Pimms Cup was on a hot hot evening at The British Embassy in Athens, in a party in their garden. The Pimms was flowing and i was thirsty. Along with a group of other food writers, I was a guest of honor. They managed to drink and drink and drink that refreshing Pimms Cup (oh, so delicious, i couldn't get over how refreshing!) but i was the one who ended up dancing in the fountain! There was wonderful feta cheese and salty briney black olives like only the greeks do em! And that was good. And then there were a lot of cubes of Cheddar cheese and English sausages on sticks. They get em sent in the diplomats bag. Afterwards we went out and ate all manner of olive oil and garlicky food. eggplant and garlic and garlic with garlic, and tomatoes with beans, and skorthalia (garlic sauce). no wonder i like the place! actually, i love greece, even if the food is sometimes horrible--and i don't think anyone does a bad buffet as bad as a big greek hotel could, witness the report we're getting from olympia village--there is always something very deliicious to eat a walk away, a drive away, a donkey ride away. and the wines are wonderful these days too! nytimes had a piece on their wines this week......i yasoo!

ooops, i meant to add: website is: www.zante-feast.com