David Ross

The first cookbook I showed was the 'New Boston Cooking School Cookbook' by Fannie Farmer, published in the early 20th century. Another one of my cherished books was written by Andre Soltner at the end of the 20th century in the mid 1990's. Chef Soltner had retired from Lutece and was on a book tour. I met him at a book signing he did at Powell's Books for Cooks in Portland, Oregon. I will never forget how comfortable and relaxed Chef Soltner made everyone feel. For serious foodies, it was like meeting a celebrity but Chef Soltner was not at all pretentious. I'll never forget when someone asked him about his 'celebrity chef' status. Mind you, this was before the Food Network and 'named' chefs were just starting to gain mass appeal. Chef Soltner said he really didn't consider himself a chef as much as a 'cook.' He said he was a 'craftsman' just like the carpenter and the other craftsmen he knew in France. When you think about that statement today it really rings tru. I think there are a lot of 'chefs' who aren't 'cooks.' In other words, today we have a group of 'chefs' who look good wearing trendy glasses and spiked hairdos. But can they 'cook?' Just last week I was watching a new program on PBS that interviews famous American cooks in the kitchens of the French Culinary Institute in New York. There was 'Cook' Soltner-the same affable, relaxed man that I had met many years before. He told of growing up in France and how his family and their love of food and cooking fueled his own passions for the kitchen. Then he stood up and prepared an omelette for the students in the audience. Butter, eggs, salt and a bit of pepper. He stirred the eggs with a fork and then poured them into the hot butter melting in a copper skillet. He stirred the egg with a fork a few times and then gently nudged the omelette onto a plate. An unadorned white plate. When the hostess of the program asked him if you could add vegetables to the omelette he just said "yeah sure, if you would like." Of course the omelette was perfectly cooked-creamy scrambled eggs on the inside and the outer wrapping of egg set but not over-cooked. Watching Chef Soltner again reminded me how humble yet confident he was. A man who truly loves his 'craft.' Here is his autograph of my cookbook:

Lord have mercy - David, that is just stupenous. I am not generally prone to sweets, but your fruit concoctions have me over the moon (says I, who is just finishing off the last of the amazing cherry clafouti, which shall henceforth be known in these parts as David Ross Clafouti). ← Ahhhh. Thank you so much. My first named after dish! If I ever open a bistro we'll call it "Clafoutis ala Ross." I love desserts-and desserts with berries are my favorite. Let's see, how many can, or should, I list? Cherry Clafouti Huckleberry Pie Coconut Cream Pie Apple Pie French Apple Pie Cherry Pie Apple Crisp Pear Brown Betty Peach Cobbler Peach Ice Cream Strawberry Ice Cream Cherry Ice Cream Lemon Bars Raspberry Napolean Boysenberry Kiss (oops, that's a cocktail, but equally good for dessert) I'll stop with that.

OK, computer problems being fixed. THe lavish feast of duck confit I planned tonight will have to wait for tommorrow since I've spent most of the day hacking at this stupid machine. But I've got a couple of surprises to share tonight after dinner. Since we've been talking about berries-but mainly huckleberries-I thought I would share another story about Northwest berries with you. This is a piece I wrote about 5 years ago when I was just getting my fingers wet at the keyboard. It may read a little rough, so forgive me. At the end of the piece are links to some recipes using the different berries. Let me know if you have some questions about the berries. I said at the start of the blog that summer wasn't necessarily my favorite season for cooking. Now after day five of the blog and so much discussion about summmer berries, I think I've changed my mind. The Cane Berries of Summer by David Ross Summer is the best time of year for a cook—the time of year when the bounty of Mother Earth is literally at our fingertips each day. A new surprise turns up almost every week in my local farmer's market. In June, we are blessed with buckets of ruby-red Bing cherries. July delivers crates of "Blue Lake" green beans. In August, we start husking ears of sweet corn and September brings voluptuously juicy peaches. And in late September, the season is crowned with the exalted and elusive wild huckleberry. One of the stars of any summer table is the many varieties of "cane" berries that grow throughout the season. Most of us don't even realize what a cane berry is. We see pretty little hillocks of berries standing at attention in the produce section of the supermarket and don't consider the history of these beautiful fruits of summer. All cane berries are part of the rose family of plants. Like roses, cane berries have long stems (canes), which are studded with prickly thorns. The fruits of cane berries have the same sweet fragrance of rose petals. Some people consider any type of cane berry to be a noxious weed that grows out of control along the sides of a road. This falsehood could be due in part to the fact that many cane berry bushes border the murky waters of sloughs - it's not too appetizing to think of a berry basking in the sun next to a sewer pit. However, cane berries are not snobbish neighbors. Other than finding a place to soak up the hottest rays of sun and a cool drink of water, they can adapt and flourish in almost any surroundings. Cane berries also seem to take a bad rap because they are so damn hard to pick. I remember picking wild blackberries in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains just east of Mollala, Oregon. We would trudge through a mucky cow pasture to reach a huge outcropping of blackberries. Of course, the best berries were laughing at us from their sun-soaked perch at the top of the bush, nearly 10 feet above our heads. We were totally unprepared for the torture that awaited, outfitted in t-shirts and shorts, our bare skin exposed to the sharp thorns on the canes. Hours and untold scrapes and pricks later, we had our bounty: a handful of blackberries. But dreaming of the warm, juicy pie that would grace our dinner table that evening made the trauma of the hunt seem unimportant. In Oregon, each local berry farmer pays an "assessment" or fee, based on the acres of each crop he grows. The money collected from the farmer is paid to the Oregon State Department of Agriculture. As one of his duties at the Department of Agriculture, my father was the administrator of the "Oregon Cane Berry Commission" for many years. In Oregon, "Commodity Commissions" run the gamut from animals (beef, fryer and sheep commissions), to fruit and vegetables (strawberry and onion commissions), to hay and grasses (wheat, alfalfa and ryegrass commissions). Through these "Commissions" the state promotes and markets Oregon products around the world. One of the most popular varieties of cane berries is the "raspberry." Raspberries have been known since prehistoric times. The ancients attributed the origins of raspberries to divine intervention from the Gods--the nymph Ida scratched her breast while picking a delicate raspberry for young Zeus and thus raspberries, until that time white, turned red. The blood of love, so to speak. Raspberries have been cultivated since the Middle Ages, yet commercial farming methods were not perfected until the start of the 20th century. The "Loganberry" was created in 1881, when James Logan of Santa Cruz, California, inadvertently crossed a red raspberry and a blackberry. Loganberries possess the red color of the raspberry, albeit a more ruby red, and are somewhat larger and more elongated in size than the blackberry. Loganberries have an especially tart yet sweet flavor that is best suited to baked desserts like pies and tarts. Rudolph Boysen of Napa, California developed the boysenberry—a hybrid of the blackberry, in the early 1920's. Mr. Boysen collaborated with Walter Knott and together they produced boysenberries on the Knott farm in Buena Park, California. As a means of helping get through the Depression, the Knott's began selling boysenberry jams and jellies from their farmstand. In later years, the farm became the amusement park we know today as "Knott's Berry Farm." The Marion blackberry, or "marionberry" is a cross between the Chehalem and Olallieberry and grows exclusively in Marion County which lies within the rich farmlands of the Willamette Valley in Western Oregon. Although Walt Whitman tasted berries that would develop into the marionberry, it was not until 1956 that the first commercially grown marionberries were to the American table. The aromatic marionberry has an intense blackberry flavor and is nearly double the size of the blackberry. Whereas other blackberry varieties are sold simply as "blackberries," the Marionberry is only sold under the Marionberry name. This is "branded" marketing--selling a high-quality product under its given name. Another example would be "Certified Angus Beef." Today, foreign berries can be found in supermarkets year-round, and at sky-high prices in January. Nevertheless, it's always best to avoid spending your money on interlopers from halfway across the globe and wait until summer when local cane berries are in season and at the peak of flavor. So the next time you are winding down a country road this summer and happen upon what appears to be a gangly weed, you may want to stop. It just might be a bushel of sweet, juicy berries-and the best way to taste the flavor of the season is to pick the tender, little morsels straight off the cane and savor the moment. Enjoy. http://www.themediadrome.com/content/recip..._palm_fruit.htm http://www.themediadrome.com/content/recip...r_ice_cream.htm http://www.themediadrome.com/content/recip..._lemon_bars.htm http://www.themediadrome.com/content/recip...rry_cobbler.htm

What a day to have computer problems! I've been fighting with this bugger for almost two years and the darn thing is only four! Bear with me for the next few days as I struggle with this beast. The responses may be a bit slow. Or, if I get really mad, I'll open the window, shout "I'm mad as hell I'm not going to take it anymore," and chuck this piece of >>>>>out the window. Not to worry if I go that far, the blog shall continue onward!

I think that fresh cranberries would be delicious in this coffeecake. I would probably boil them in water and sugar first until the 'popped' meaning they burst open. That way when you baked the coffeecake the cranberries would be soft and not hard like a raw cranberry. The flavor would be much different than a huckleberry, but very tart and wonderful I am sure. Spokane today is getting close to 350,000 people in the metro area-depending on who you ask. To the east are Post Falls and Couer d'Alene, Idaho which are towns in their own right, but could be considered a part of the Spokane metro area. We'd love to invite you down to Spokane any time and maybe a trip into the forest to pick some berries.

Since the huckleberry discussion has been so popular, I thought I'd end it with some huckleberry cooking today. I keep a gallon bag of huckleberries in the freezer and use them throughout the year, hopefully ending up with a few berries left in July, just in time for the new crop to ripen. This morning I made a huckleberry coffee cake with the last few cups of berries that I have left. Not to worry though, I'll be buying this year's crop of huckleberries in about 6 or 7 weeks. Here is a photo of what our wild huckleberries look like. They are red, black and purple in color and are about 1/2 the size of a blueberry. Here you see the coffee cake batter spread in a baking dish with the huckleberries scattered on the top. I don't like to stir the huckleberries into the batter because it can turn the batter a pretty unappetizing purple color. I also like the flavor boost you get when you eat a piece of coffee cake with a cluster of huckleberries on top. I sprinkled some sliced almonds on top for texture, and then I put a crumb topping on top of the coffee cake. The crumb topping was a mix of brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, flour and butter. Here is a slice of the final huckleberry coffeecake with some grilled apricots.

I'm guessing something near the airport? ← Yes, it was the Salty's on Redondo Beach just about a 20 minute drive South of the airport. Great view, so-so food and service.

It was the Salty's at Redondo Beach. While the view of the water and islands of Puget Sound is beautiful (you know that), sadly the food was not good and the service worse. 25 minutes to get our lunch after ordering. Yesterday I took another employee to lunch for her birthday and we ate at Anthony's Seafood in the airport. The 'Halibut Fish and Chips' at Anthony's was far better than the lunch the day before at Salty's. Yes everyone, the Seattle Airport has a good restaurant! Anthony's is a local restaurant company and if you have time while transitting through Sea-Tac airport, (short for Seattle-Tacoma), stop in. They have lots of Northwest seafood selections.

My Showtime doesn't really come apart for deep cleaning. But I kind of look at the grease spots and stains as a badge of courage. Maybe it's a guy thing. I'm one of the die-hards that doesn't do a lot of cleaning of the grill on the Weber kettle out back. Somehow I mistakenly think that an ultra clean and shiny Showtime or a slick and shiny grate on my barbecue grill will kill the taste of the food.

I don't seem to have much trouble cleaning the Showtime, but after four years of splaterring grease, it is looking a bit tired. The grease is the hardest part to clean off the metal. ← I, too, am an embarrassed Showtime owner. I'm on my second model after #1 died. Foodies may laugh, but rotisserie duck is second only to confit in my mind. It's a very nice way to cook. Cleaning is a bit of a pain only because of the volume of hand-washing. I line the drip tray with foil so that I (usually) don't need to wash the bottom. The edge of the heat reflector gets greasy, as do the rods. I find soaking and then scrubbing does the trick for the rods and drip tray cover. Dishwashing works to de-grease (as I found on the first model), but fails to get rid of the blackening - and quickly accelerates rusting. ← I know what you mean about the foodie label. I consider myself in that group, but sometimes it's an internal struggle to balance my foodie side with my everyday home cook side. I reconcile the two because I see them as both expanding my knowledge about food and cooking and what other people eat. If it helps-Julia Child once said her favorite snack food was 'Cheetos.' We can sip Krug and sup on Kumamoto oysters-but we also like a mean bowl of Nalley's chili. I think you fead my mind. Tonight I'm going to do a duck confit so please check back! The poor little duckies have been sitting in a crock of fat for three weeks now. It's not really an early summer dish, but I can't resist bringing them out of cold fat storage. Now that you've mentioned duck confit it fits perfectly with tonight's dinner.

I don't seem to have much trouble cleaning the Showtime, but after four years of splaterring grease, it is looking a bit tired. The grease is the hardest part to clean off the metal. Prime rib is very good on the Showtime believe it or not. I figure on 18 minutes per pound. The Prime Rib won't have a crispy outer fat crust like it would if you cooked it in the oven, but it will be incredibly juicy. I hate those cotton 'rubber bands' that come with the Showtime. Because they are elastic in the center, I found them to burn and almost melt from the heat of the oven as a chicken roasted. I use the basic old-fashioned cotton string for trussing any poultry or tieing up meat. I am so glad you mentioned the lobster stock base. It is way too salty so I only use a small amount in sauces. I love the concentrated flavor, but not the salt. I'll start searching for other lobster stock bases and let you know if I find one I like. I do use this company's beef and chicken stock bases and they are very good. I don't find them as salty as the lobster base. Let me know if you find a less salty lobster stock base.

Thank you for the nice comments. I use my George Foreman grill to make very good hamburgers and grilled cheese sandwiches. Wow-that gives me an idea for lunch!

Last night for dinner I made fresh halibut with a simple butter sauce, mixed rice and grilled zucchini. I menitioned earlier in the blog that during the work week I try to keep my dinners simple by limiting the dishes to grilled meats and vegetables. Last night was the best of the past week's simple dinners. I am thankful to be going into some days off and I can really get cooking. You might think that because I live in the Pacific Northwest I get seafood cheap. That's not the case. While I may not pay as much for halibut that has to be shipped fresh to North Carolina, I still pay a steep price as you can see in this photo: That's right-$18.99 a pound for fresh Alaskan Halibut-and it is worth it. I've always thought the best halibut comes from Alaska starting in the Spring and running into mid-Summer. There seem to be two factors that have the most impact on the price of fresh halibut. One is the size of the fishery each year. We call it "the size of the run," meaning how many halibut are in the water each year. If the 'run' is small that obviously makes the price of halibut in the market go up. The size of the run of halibut can be affected by weather conditions, water conditions and even the dang sea lions that eat up so much of our seafood. We seem to be in an endless war in the Northwest between predator-sea lion-and prey-the halibut. Sea lions also take plenty of our salmon. The story of the salmon being eaten up by sea lions is a blog unto itself. The second biggest factor that affects the price of our seafood is the weather. If there are big storms and the boats can't get out for a few days we see an immediate spike in the price of halibut. It happens that quickly. Just like the price of gas for your car can go up from one day to the next. I seasoned the halibut with a drizzle of olive oil, salt, pepper and some Cajun spices. I use the exact same method every time I cook fish filets-seared in a hot cast iron pan for 4 minutes per side then the pan is put in a 425degree oven to finish roasting the fish for another 5 minutes. This halibut filet was about 1 1/2 inches thick and I cooked it for about 13 minutes total between the searing and roasting. I made a simple butter sauce for the halibut. I had to improvise a little because I didn't really have what I needed to make a classic Buerre Blanc. Usually I use chopped shallots reduced in white wine to make the flavor base of buerre blanc. I didn't have either wine or shallots, so I substituted chopped green onions and tarragon wine vinegar. I added some lemon juice and then boiled the mixture down to a glaze. I added about a teaspoon of lobster stock base and then took the pan off the heat. I then added the butter and swirled it around the pan to combine the butter with the reduced vinegar sauce. Just before serving I strained the solids out of the butter sauce and then spooned the sauce over the finished halibut. This is the final dish showing the halibut on top of a mixture of wild, brown and white rice. I added some grilled and chopped zucchini to the rice. I spooned some of the butter sauce over the fish and garnished it with snipped chives from my garden. Enjoy.

Remember last night I said that during the work week I try to keep my dinners simple-like grilled meats and vegetables? Well, last night I did a 'Rotisserie Game Hen with Greens.' YOU CAN SLICE IT--YOU CAN DICE IT--YOU SET IT AND FORGET IT Here, in all its glory, is my infamous 'Showtime Rostisserie Grill' brought to you by the one and only Ron Popeill. I told everyone on Monday that my blog would be personal-at times maybe too personal. Have you admitted to anyone on eGullet that you have a 'Showtime Rotisserie Grill?' Maybe some of you are like me. I've got all the latest fou-fou kitchen equipment-a $350.00 KitchenAid Pro Mixer to mix focaccia dough and a $150.00 French Mandoline to hand-cut waffle fries. But one of my favorite pieces of kitchen equipment I bought from the guy who hawked hair for men in a spray can. Yes, you really do just set it. No, you don't really forget it. You need to keep an eye on that bird spinning around. The 'Showtime' is, in my opinion, simply the best rotisserie type grill I have ever used. It is perfect for any type of meat, fowl or pork you would normally roast in the oven. The 'Showtime' is especially good for making perfect Rotisserie Chicken. As the bird turns the fat and juices baste the bird in a continuous motion-turn after turn after turn. The bird turns out juicy and with golden, crisp skin. Delicious, and an easy way to make a weeknight dinner. I rubbed this game hen with olive oil and that was it. No salt, no pepper, no seasoning. Since game hens are small they can slide on the rotisserie spit, so I trussed the bird with cotton string to keep it from slipping as it turned. I brushed the game hen with melted butter about 4 times during 1 hour of roasting. And here is the finished game hen served with a salad of mixed greens dressed with olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper.

You really can get creative with leftovers for lunch. You'll get some stares, but so what. I'd rather eat my food than the junk they put in vending machines. I have found microwaves are good for heating water for hot tea. I've re-heated many a Thai Seafood Curry in the work microwave so don't think you are alone. Nuclear seafood is tough, stringy and stinks!

The man and the master: I wanted to give you a teaser photo for a subject that I will be discussing with you this weekend-dining in Las Vegas. This is a very special photo for me. It was taken this year on May 17 at a private dinner at Guy Savoy restaurant in Caesar's Palace. I was attending a private dinner as part of the Bon Apetit Magazine Food and Wine Focus. This is my photo with the Master, Chef Guy Savoy. Chef Savoy was in the kitchen that night. We also celebrated the one year anniversary of the opening of the restaurant-and in celebration, the President of Caesar's Palace was there and presented the chef and his staff with a special cake. I think that will be quite the teaser to get you excited about looking forward to the menu-and photos, from this very special dinner. Come back to my blog soon for the details.

Yesterday we took an employee out for lunch to celebrate her 25-year anniversary with the company. I ordered the "Copper River Salmon served on Mashed Potatoes with Basil Oil and Saffron Riesling Sauce." I didn't get a photo, and you wouldn't have wanted to see it if I posted one. I get really mad when restaurants, decent, fine dining restaurants, don't put on the plate what they post on the menu. So-here is a blow by blow of where the kitchen went wrong: -The filet of salmon looked like it was cut from the back end of the tail section of the fish. A flat, no more than 3/4" thick piece of salmon. It was a good-sized portion, but the tail of the salmon isn't the choicest part. When you are paying for fresh Copper River Salmon you should be served a very thick slab cut from the center of the filet. The salmon had been grilled over a gas flame-evident from the black 'grill marks' and the black, oily sheen that slid off the salmon making a black oil slick on the edges of the white plate. Have you ever cooked something on your outdoor BBQ grill when the gas flame was TOO HOT? Right-it sears the surface of the meat with a black oil slick that oozes onto your plate. -The Basil Oil with Saffron was intensely flavored and a beautiful, deep-emerald green color. Basil and olive oil are good accompaniments for salmon because the spicy, licorice flavor of basil complements the strong oils in the salmon. The only criticism I had was not with the flavor of the oil but the amount. The mashed potatoes were literally swimming in a soup of basil oil. -There was hardly any of the Saffron Riesling Sauce to be had. I thought I saw a small yellow speck of the sauce peeking out from under the mashed potatoes, but I couldn't be sure. There were a few strands of saffron threads floating in the green basil oil so I guess they delivered on that promise of Saffron. Now a sauce made of sweet, effervescent, riesling wine sounds like a nice counterpart for an oily fish like Copper River Salmon. But I'm not so sure that it is appropriate to pair two totally opposite flavored sauces-Basil Oil and Saffron Riesling Sauce-with a strong flavored salmon like Copper River. Note to restaurants-keep things simple and don't overcomplicate a dish. You don't need to throw everything in the pantry into this dish. The basil, probably. The Saffron, maybe. The Riesling, o.k, but on it's own. Maybe in a Buerre Blanc spooned over the salmon filet but sans the basil oil. And please don't try to fool me by putting something on your menu and not delivering it on my plate!

One advantage of bringing lunch to work when you are cook is that you've probably got great leftovers to bring in your lunch bag-uh, my Walmart bag, remember? The downside to bringing in mysterious lunch items are the leers, sneers and jeers that you get from your co-worker's when you put something that "stinks" in the microwave. Most of the people I work with don't like any type of fish, (amazing that there are people in Seattle who don't like salmon). If I crank up the microwave to re-heat some seafood lasagna, boy do I hear about it. They can't even handle a bagel with lox. You can't even smell lox unless you stick your nose in it, and even then, if it's good lox, all you'll smell is a hint of salmon and maybe a bit of dill or lemon. I think they can't get over the idea that I'm eating fish for breakfast. (Wait till I pop some Miso Salmon, rice and preserved vegetables in the microwave next Tuesday). Of course, most good food-like a juicy, medium-rare steak and crispy onion rings, is best when it is served the first time-not two days later. Most leftovers, unless it's tuna casserole, don't withstand the humidity of a refrigerator or the nuclear heat of the office microwave. That steak becomes over-done and rubbery and the onion rings are limp and coated with slimy breading. But there are some tricks you can use to turn that steak dinner into a delcious lunch that will make your office mates jealous. Let's talk about that big T-Bone you're going to barbecue this weekend. It's huge, 24oz. and almost 2" thick. After dinner, cut the leftover, beautifully medium-rare steak into thick slices. Now take put some soy sauce, toasted sesame oil, toasted peanut oil, ginger, garlic, sliced green onions and sesame seeds in a bowl. Stir it up good. Put the steak slices, and any steak juices, in your 'Tupperware' bowl. Add the dressing and let the steak marinate in the refrigerator overnight. You'll need to buy some mixed greens and some fried 'Chow Mein Noodles.' You know the stuff, the little fried noodle bits we ate when we were kids. While you probably ate 'Chung King' brand, today there are a number of Asian brands that make crunchy chow mein noodles. If you have to be chi-chi, make your own 'Wonton Crisps,' by cutting some egg roll wrappers in small strips and deep-frying them. They'll stay crisp in a brown paper bag on the counter. So now we are ready for work-we've got our tupperware of marinated steak, another container of greens and finally, a small container of crispy chow meain noodles for some texture to our lunch-'Asian style steak salad.' You have to keep the greens undressed and dry and in a separate container from the steak. If you toss the greens with the steak and the dressing before you leave for work, you'll have some dreadfully limp greens by lunch time. So that's one idea for how to break through the 'Top Ramen' for lunch routine. Here's another visual example of left-overs for work, a 'Fried Soft-Shell Crab Po-Boy.' I usually make a nice lunch on my days off. Last Saturday I made a couple of 'Po-Boy's.' My seafood market had some frozen soft-shell crabs. The freezing didn't seem to hurt the poor little devils at all-they were delicious and fresh tasting in the final sandwich. I coated the crabs in seasoned fry mix with Cajun seasoning. Here are the crabs fried. (Use caution when frying, soft-shell crabs have LOTS of juice that spits out). Here is the final 'Soft-Shell Crab Po-Boy'-deed fried crabs on a hoagie roll with shredded iceberg lettuce and spicy mayonnaise. To make the mayonnaise I added lemon juice, cayenne pepper and some Worcestershire for some added Cajun kick. The key to taking this to work for lunch is to keep all the elements separate and then make your 'Po'Boy' at work. I wrapped two of the fried crabs in foil. Yes, they will get soft in the fridge, but I have a toaster oven at work that I used to heat and crisp them up. I wrapped the bread separate from the lettuce and mayonnaise so it wouldn't get soggy-then spread the mayo on the bread just before putting on the heated crabs. A delicious work lunch. You should have seen the looks on other employees when they saw me biting into a sandwich that had little legs sticking out the ends of the bun!

I'm puzzled over the aluminum implements in the right-middle of this photo, just next to the squeeze bottle. The one on the right looks like a garlic press. Is that right? What about the one to its left? And is that white thing in the bottom center a cake decorator? Great fun, peering into other people's drawers! ← You're spot on! The two metal tools are garlic presses. I never really plan ahead which one I might use, or if I'll chop the garlic by hand with a knife. That plastic thing, and the plunger type plastic tool above it is designed to be a cake decorator, but it is incredibly versatile. I think the last time I used it was during the Holidays. I filled it with foie gras mousse with black truffles and stuffed some quail. Imagine, using a $2 buck plastic tool to fill quail with foie gras. Whatever works.

Great question about bringing lunches through airport security. The only 'perk' I get as an employee is that often times I can go through a special line that is reserved for employees, first class passengers or mileage plan members. I have to follow the same rules as everyone else as far as liquids go. I so miss not being able to bring soups through in the winter.

I think your tupperware lids are up there in tupperware heaven having a party with all the lids that have gone missing in my house over the years. ← If anyone's interested, I have all the bottoms ever made---some quite odd-shaped, as in "ham" and "bread" and "pickles." About fifty pieces are missing the lids, some by natural attrition, and about forty by the disaster of catering a picnic for a client. She wanted everything in Tupperware, all packed into several of my ancient Red Man picnic baskets. I told her just to set all the empty items on the porch and I'd pick them up in a couple of days; when I arrived, her young daughter and Grandma searched high and low, finally calling client at work, and she affirmed that she put them out. Daughter came in from porch with an "Uh-Oh!" look on her face, hesitantly waving a knob-flapper, on which was the local DAV logo, with a hearty thanks for the donation. We scurried to the local outlet, told them our predicament, and they made us welcome to search the shelves. Two baskets out of three found, plus almost all the Tup-bottoms, but no lids. They said they'd keep an eye out for them, but the hundreds of lift-'em-with-a-forklift boxes in the workroom, each spilling forth assorted clothing, books, toys and other unnameable esoterica, gave us little hope. So I have lots of things to use for bird-waterers, flowerpot bottoms, warm dinners for ShedKitty through the long cold of Winter, and just the right size if we ever have a roofleak, and that has to do. ← A website that I visited recently said that it takes up to 1,000 years for Tupperware to disintegrate in a landfill. What hath we wrought on our land. Your Tup-ware story is the funniest one I've heard so far. Maybe I should change my earlier statement to "what hath I wrought on eGullet by'eth my Tupperwareth tale."

Wow, and one beautiful Clafouti you did make. I almost was licking the computer screen the photo is so delicious. If I inspired you to bake that beauty then you've given me a great compliment. Thank you.

They are the tiny little sprouts of clover and what we find in our markets are usually from the green or white clover. I always joke that we get the leftover sprouts after the farmers have planted their clover fields for the cattle. Actually the ones I buy are grown of course for consumers, human consumers, and they are sold in the produce section next to the alfalfa sprouts and radish sprouts. The brand I buy is packed in small, clear plastic containers. The taste of the clover sprout is not as 'grassy' as alfalfa sprouts and bit peppery, but not as spicy as radish sprouts. Great question.

You may not realize that the South-central part of Washington is where we grow Asparagus. Here is a story I did on Asparagus that originally appeared about 6 years ago on the site I used to write for. I recently re-wrote the piece and I hope someday I can get it published with some photos: Asparagus: The Spear of Spring! by David Ross It’s been about 25 years ago now. I don’t remember the exact date or the day of the week, but I do know it was in the Spring, probably late April or early May. What I do remember, and I came to realize many years later, is that day so many years in the past, now stands as a defining moment in my lifelong culinary journey. That day I saw with my own eyes how asparagus grows. At the time I was going to college-er, partying at Delta Chi Fraternity-at Oregon State University in Corvallis. I had traveled up to Seattle to meet my girlfriend Marnie and her Mother, Dale, for a drive across Washington State to the town of Walla Walla. Marnie was on her way to Walla Walla to check out Whitman College and I was along for the ride. I remember we were about halfway between Pasco and Walla Walla, when Marnie shouted-"Look, there it is, there it is!" The only change to the flat, moonlike landscape that I saw were a few rolling hills and a housing development off in the distance. “Look closer,” Marnie said, “you can see it coming up out of the ground.” We slowed the car down and I could start to see what I thought Marnie was describing-it looked like one of the numerous Christmas tree farms that have become one of the prime agricultural crops in the Northwest. But what I thought was going to turn out to be row after endless row of Noble Fir seedlings, turned out to be something quite different. It wasn’t until we pulled off the highway and turned down a side road that I started to realize why Marnie was so excited. It wasn’t spiny little fir boughs peeking out of the soil. No, it looked more like a green stick with little spikes on top. Close your eyes and think of hundreds of those Jolly Green Giant characters poking up and smiling at you-that’s almost what I thought I was seeing. All I could see was a vast expanse of dark brown clods of dirt, rock and a few mounds of grass here and there. But it wasn’t an illusion. No, something green was popping out of the field-it was-asparagus! Here I was, standing along the fence line looking down upon what some in the culinary world would argue is the ultimate spring vegetable. When gently steamed until just done, a spear of asparagus is tender yet crisp. Asparagus is healthy too; it’s packed with vitamins, primarily potassium. There it was-virgin spears of asparagus waking up from the bed of nature. Walla Walla, Washington, is named in honor of a local tribe of Native Americans. Walla Walla is nestled in the prime agricultural expanse known as the Columbia River Basin-the areas surrounding the mighty Columbia River as it makes a wide turn out of Central Washington at the Tri-Cities towns of Pasco, Richland and Kennewick. The river then bends down into the high desert plains bordering Oregon at Umatilla and Hermiston as it makes its journey west into the scenic Columbia River Gorge, ultimately pouring into the Pacific at Astoria, Oregon. The Columbia gushes millions of gallons of pure glacial, mineral-rich water into the surrounding farmlands of the Basin. As a result, the Basin is considered some of the most prime agricultural land in America. Walla Walla is best-known as the home of the “Walla Walla Sweet” onion-recently named by the 2007 Washington State Legislature as the “official” state vegetable of Washington. But Walla Walla isn’t just known for sweet onions-it is noted for growing fresh peas, dried lentils, and a new and expanding wine industry. While the Walla Walla Sweet has gotten most of the recent press coming out of the Statehouse, asparagus has quietly waited in the wings-knowing it deserves every bit of recognition as its onion cousin. Higher-education is another important player in the local economy, and that was the reason for our car trip to Walla Walla all those years ago. Walla Walla is the home of the private liberal arts school, Whitman College. Whitman is arguably an ivy-league caliber college way out West. In 1836, Marcus Whitman and his wife Narcissa founded the Whitman mission near present day Walla Walla to serve the spiritual and educational needs of both the Native American’s of the area and new settlers from the East. The Whitman’s were killed in a violent uprising in 1847. By 1859, Whitman College was established in their honor to carry on their mission of education. While I was standing next to the field of asparagus that day, I realized that up to that point in my life I hadn’t thought much about how asparagus was grown. In America we tend to grow crops and animals in terms of maximum density per inch of space, so I could not imagine that asparagus grew this way, one tiny stalk poking through the soil. I must have thought that it grew on some sort of bush or tree and one would just reach up and grab a bunch. I wasn’t much of a cook at that point in my life, I certainly wasn’t writing about food and cooking, and I rarely ate asparagus. Only about ten stalks per square foot of ground-imagine how much broccoli or how many tomatoes grow in the amount of earth. Aside from the question of how asparagus was grown, I never considered it one of my favorite foods. Mother usually served it only once a year on Easter Sunday-and it was awful. It smelled bad and was boiled until it was limp and could barely hold its shape. It was slimy and had soaked up so much water it had any nary a bit of any kind of flavor. The final death knell for a kid-asparagus was a putrid green-the color of all vegetables that should never be eaten-Brussels sprouts, spinach, peas and beans. As I got older, I ventured into cooking, first as a serious hobby, later in the form of writing about food and cooking and in recent years cooking on television. At about the same time that I was getting seriously into writing and talking about food, “grilled asparagus” was fast becoming the preferred method of cooking. Little black grill marks look trendy, but for me, just me, grilling asparagus isn’t the best technique to draw out the true flavor of this delicious spear of Spring. I linked my adult dislike for grilled asparagus to a frigid display onboard a United Airlines flight in so-called ‘First Class’ on a flight from Portland to Chicago in the late 1980’s. Sitting on a too-small plate of ‘Grilled Swordfish,’-(wakeup call to airlines, don’t cook bad fish in a small galley in an enclosed airplane cabin)-was a mound of frigid, stringy, grilled asparagus. It was one of those sad food memories that become imbedded in your food psyche, clouding your judgment for years. It sounded good on the menu, it didn’t look good on the plate and it tasted worse than it looked. For my taste, the only added benefit to grilling asparagus is that it is left with a hint of smokiness when it is grilled over charcoal or hardwood. Don’t even ask me to describe the taste of asparagus poorly grilled on a gas barbecue. In the coming years I questioned what I thought was my well-informed palate. Wasn’t I supposed to like asparagus? Grilled asparagus is in all the popular food magazines, why don’t I like it? Isn’t anyone serious about food required to like asparagus? It became a question that I wouldn’t answer until I finally came to the realization that it wasn’t the asparagus’s fault, it was me. I had never eaten fresh asparagus properly cooked. What a revelation, (that’s a joke friends). Buy a fresh delicious product in season, cook it simply and precisely, and then enjoy its beautiful, natural flavor. There is much debate about the best size of asparagus and which size spears yield the best flavor. I tend to think it is a matter of personal taste. I can’t tell you what is best for you, I can only relate my personal experience and then let you experiment with different sizes of asparagus before deciding which size you prefer. Walk into any Morton’s steakhouse tonight and the waiter will wheel before you a wagon heaving with all cuts of prime beef, double cut lamb and pork chops, shanks and flanks, along with gargantuan stalks of fresh asparagus. It’s a proven marketing technique, show the diner the biggest of everything and they’ll think it’s the best-the thickest filet mignon, the double-double lamb chop, the spears of asparagus as wide as your fist. Morton’s online menu currently lists asparagus prepared in two ways-“Steamed Fresh Jumbo Asparagus, Sauce Hollandaise” or “Grilled Jumbo Asparagus, Balsamic Glaze.” Note the word “Jumbo.” And from what I hear, it sells, so that tells me the patrons of Morton’s at least like their asparagus big, really big. I happen to be on the other side of the debate about asparagus-bigger isn’t always better so to speak. I prefer “medium” size asparagus stalks-about as thick as your middle finger. I shy away from the giants, they tend to be tough and fibrous. I also overlook the ‘baby’ or ‘fine’ size asparagus in the market. Too thin and the asparagus breaks when I trim it and it just doesn’t pack enough flavor in that little pencil thin neck. Once you’ve brought the asparagus home from the market it’s best to cook it within a couple of days. If you buy your asparagus fresh from a farmer’s market, it was probably picked that morning and will hold up fine for a few days. But if you buy it from the supermarket it may have been picked days ago, going from field to processing plant, through a couple of distribution centers and delivery trucks before it gets to the produce section. Cook it quick or it will start to decompose and get mushy. Asparagus lives in the open air so I figure it doesn’t need to live in the refrigerator before I cook it. Some say wrap it in wet towels, others say store it in the refrigerator, standing the cluster of spears upright with the stem ends in cold water to keep them moist and green. I suppose that works, but I just put it in a nice wicker basket on the kitchen counter. It adds to the mood of Spring in the kitchen and it doesn’t spoil before I use it. I use what I call the ‘wet’ method of cooking asparagus. In other words, I cook the asparagus in some sort of liquid-steamed or blanched in water or a flavored broth to draw out the most pure, natural flavors. In some recipes, I combine the asparagus with a second liquid; say cream in a soup or mousse. As I learned that day so many years ago, asparagus is unique, and expensive, not only because it grows one spear at a time but because it is such a precious, tender little commodity of nature. When cooked properly, asparagus is moist, tender yet crisp and absolutely delicious. The perfect spear of Spring. Asparagus with Crisp Prosciutto and Honeydew Sorbet Serves 4 as an appetizer Prosciutto, tender asparagus and honeydew-a combination of salty, herbal-woodsy and sweet flavors. This is a simple appetizer that shows the first crop of Spring asparagus can be so much more than a limp, mushy side dish for Sunday’s ham. If you’ve never discovered the delicious and intensely green melon liqueur Midori-you must-it is simply the nectar of the honeydew. Simple Syrup- 1 cup granulated sugar 1 cup chopped fresh mint leaves 1 cup water Bring the water and sugar to a boil in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the chopped mint leaves and reduce the heat to medium-low. Cook the syrup for 3-4 minutes or until it starts to thicken. Remove the syrup from the heat and strain into a bowl, discarding the mint. Pour the strained syrup into a bowl and cover and refrigerate for at least 3 hours. Honeydew Sorbet- 2 cups chopped honeydew melon 1 cup simple syrup 1/3 cup chopped fresh mint leaves 1 tbsp. fresh squeezed lemon juice ¼ cup Midori melon liqueur (substitute with Vodka) Place the melon, simple syrup, mint leaves and lemon juice in a blender or food processor. Puree the mixture until it is smooth, about 1 minute. Stir in the Midori liqueur, cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours. Pour the honeydew mixture into an ice cream machine and process according to manufacturer's instructions, about 20 minutes, or until the sorbet starts to set. Spoon the sorbet mixture into a container with a tight fitting lid. Place the sorbet in the freezer until it is frozen through, about two hours. Asparagus- 8 spears of asparagus, ends trimmed, skins peeled 4 slices prosciutto, cut in half Fresh ground black pepper 1 tbsp. olive oil Mint leaves for garnish Heat 1 quart of salted water to a boil in a heavy saucepan. Add the asparagus spears and blanch until just tender, about 3 minutes. Remove the asparagus from the water and drain in a colander. Let the asparagus cool to room temperature. Remove the sorbet from the freezer and let it cool at room temperature for about 10 minutes or until it is thawed enough to be able to easily scoop into serving portions. Heat a skillet over medium heat. Brush the skillet with a little olive oil. Add the prosciutto slices and sauté until just crisp, about 30 seconds. Turn the prosciutto over and sauté for another 30 seconds. Remove the prosciutto from the skillet and drain on paper towels. To serve, wrap each asparagus spear with a slice of prosciutto. (Note: to keep the prosciutto in place, secure it with a toothpick, just keep the toothpick on the underneath side of the asparagus so it doesn't show during service). Place a scoop of the honeydew melon sorbet in a bowl. Add two spears of the prosciutto wrapped asparagus on either side of sorbet. Garnish with a mint sprig. Dungeness Crab Salad on Asparagus Mousse Roasted Tomato Vinaigrette Serves 4 as an appetizer Asparagus Mousse- 1 lb. fresh asparagus, stalks trimmed and stalk end cut off 2 cups chicken broth 4 cups water 1/3 cup fresh tarragon leaves 2 tbsp. fresh squeezed lemon juice Salt Fresh ground black pepper 1 envelope unflavored gelatin ½ cup hot water 1 cup heavy cream Combine the chicken broth, water and tarragon in a heavy pot. Bring the broth up to a boil, then add the asparagus. Reduce the heat to medium and cook the asparagus until very tender, about 10 minutes. Drain the asparagus. Take the tarragon out of the liquid and reserve the cooking broth. Place the asparagus in the bowl of a food processor. Add the lemon juice and process, adding some of the reserved cooking broth to that the asparagus takes on the consistency of a thick puree. Add salt and pepper to taste. Mix the gelatin and hot water together in a small bowl. With the processor running, add the gelatin and hot water mixture, then add the cream. The asparagus mixture should be the consistency of a smooth puree. If needed, add additional cream to smooth out the asparagus mixture. Pour the asparagus mixture into small non-stick molds and refrigerate. Let the asparagus mousse chill in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours. Roasted Tomato Vinaigrette- 4 whole, large, fresh tomatoes Fresh thyme leaves Salt Fresh ground black pepper Extra virgin olive oil Sherry wine vinegar Salt Fresh ground black pepper Extra virgin olive oil Heat the oven to 300 . Cut the tomatoes in half, then scoop out the seeds. Place the tomato halves, cut side up, in a shallow baking dish. Sprinkle each tomato with some fresh thyme leaves, salt and pepper. Drizzle each tomato half with extra virgin olive oil. Roast the tomatoes in the oven for 4 hours. Remove the tomatoes from the oven. Remove the tomatoes from the baking dish onto a work surface. Scoop the tomato flesh into the bowl of a food processor, discarding the skin from the tomatoes. With the processor running, add the sherry wine vinegar and olive oil. Process the tomatoes until they are the consistency of a loose puree. Add additional olive oil if necessary. Add salt and pepper to taste. Dungeness Crab Salad- 8-10 oz. Fresh Dungeness crab 1 tbsp. chopped fresh chives 1 tbsp. fresh squeezed lemon juice Extra virgin olive oil Salt Fresh ground black pepper Make the Dungeness crab salad just before serving. Add the crab, chives, and lemon juice to a bowl. Gently toss the crab, keeping the meat in big pieces. Drizzle just a bit of olive oil over the crab and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Gently toss the crab again. To serve, remove the asparagus mousse molds from the refrigerator. To unmold, run a small paring knife under hot water. Gently slide the knife around the each mold. Place a plate or wide serving bowl on top of each mold, and then invert the plate. The asparagus mousse should release from the mold onto the center of the serving plate. Top the asparagus mousse with some of the Dungeness crab salad. Spoon some of the Roasted Tomato Vinaigrette around the Asparagus Mousse. Poached Salmon on Cream of Asparagus, Clover Sprout Salad Serves 4 Most of us use only the top half of a stalk of asparagus, the part with the tender spears on the end. But you’re paying for every single ounce of asparagus you buy, and it’s expensive. Don't let those chewy stalks go to waste! The stalk of the asparagus spear can be put to use as a base for sauces or I like to use older asparagus as the base for a lush and creamy soup. Poaching the salmon keeps the fish soft and tender, and this method of cooking prevents the salmon from overpowering the flavor of the asparagus. Cream of Asparagus- 1 lb. asparagus, skin peeled, ends trimmed, cut in 1" pieces ¾ cup half and half ½ cup chicken stock 1 tbsp. fresh squeezed lemon juice 2 tbsp. chopped fresh tarragon Dash cayenne pepper 1 tsp. dried dill weed Salt and fresh ground black pepper Heat 4 cups of water to a boil in a heavy stockpot. Add the asparagus and cook until very tender, about 10 minutes. Remove the asparagus and drain. Place the asparagus in the bowl of a food processor. With the processor running, add the half and half and puree for 1 minute. Add the chicken stock, lemon juice, tarragon, cayenne and dried drill weed and puree for another 1 minute. Heat a heavy stockpot over medium-low heat. Transfer the asparagus mixture from the food processor to the stockpot and let the asparagus mixture cook and thicken. If the cream of asparagus becomes too thick, add additional chicken stock. Add salt and pepper to taste. Clover Sprout Salad- 1 cup clover sprouts 1 tbsp. tarragon wine vinegar 1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil Salt and fresh ground black pepper Toss the clover sprouts in a bowl with the tarragon wine vinegar, olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Salmon- 4 6 oz. salmon filets 4 cups fish stock or bottled clam juice 1 tbsp. black peppercorns 3 stems of fresh tarragon leaves 1 fresh lemon, cut in half 1 tbsp. sea salt Salt and fresh ground black pepper Whole tarragon leaves for garnish Pour the fish stock into a deep stockpot. Place the stockpot over medium-high heat. Add the peppercorns, tarragon leaves, lemon halves, and sea salt. Gently place the salmon filets in the hot stock and cover the stockpot. Reduce the heat to medium and poach the salmon in the broth just until it becomes firm, about 10 minutes. To serve, spoon a small circle of the cream of asparagus in the center of a wide serving bowl. Place one of the poached salmon filets on top of the cream of asparagus. Place a small bunch of the clover salad on top of the salmon filet and garnish with a fresh tarragon leaf.

I'm a bit behind on posting the 'dinner' photos. Sunday I had those big fat pork chops out of the Southern cast iron skillet. Monday night I did some chicken breasts with a green 'chimmichurri' sauce and more of Sunday night's potato salad. The original idea was going to be making a spice paste of North African flavors, but I didn't plan well and didn't have everything on hand that I needed. So I improvised and made more of a Mediterreanean/North African (whatever) style spice paste for marinating the chicken. I used dried red pepper, fennel seeds, ground coriander, Garam Masala, dried Mexican oregano, lemon, mustard and cumin seed mix. I guess I was all over the map with this one. I thinned it with some olive oil and then rubbed the mixture over chicken and let it marinade in the refrigerator overnight. I sort of cheated on the 'Chimmichurri' sauce-it wasn't authentic like the Argentinian recipe because I added some Asian ingredients-Cilantro, Basil, Parsley, Rice Vinegar, Chile Oil, Toasted Peanut Oil and Toasted Sesame oil. I added some olive oil at the end, along with lemon juice and salt and pepper. Here's the final dish, the spice marinated chicken breast that I roasted in a hot, hot, hot oven. The sauce drizzled on and around the chicken and some potato salad. It really is the perfect dish for a quick, weeknight dinner. Spicy too. Ooh. Let's call it 'Spice-Rubbed North African Medittereanean Chicken with Asian Arentinian Chimmichurri Sauce on Deviled Potato Salad.' We can sell it at a 'Fusion' restaurant for $39.95! Actually it tasted as good as it looks, even if the flavors were all over the map. When you have a schedule like mine, you don't have time to cook much during the work week. But it's still important to eat good food, it just takes some planning on your days off. I try to keep things simple during the week, like grilled meats and vegetables. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here's what is on the menu at Chez Ross this week: Sunday-Pork Chops with New Potato Salad and Mushroom Cream Sauce Monday-Chicken Breast marinated in Spices and served with a ChimmiChurri Sauce and New Potato Salad. Tuesday-Grilled Lamb Chops with Pasta Tonight will be a Game Hen cooked on the rotisserie and served with salad greens. Enjoy the photos.