Star-kissed Skies and Sparks

There's an awesome scene in Lawrence of Arabia where Peter Toole looks out into the vast, empty dessert and says, "I love the dessert..." I've always admired that particular breed of Arabists, Englishmen, spies, cartographers, scholars, and mischief-makers who fell in love with the 360 degree vistas of sand and sky they found in the middle east. I saw the same love up close in the face of a young man I met this evening at Barnes and Noble. I was scouring through the travel section and came across: The Egyptian Pyramids. I guess he saw I had a keen interest in Egypt and very shyly asked if I wanted to visit Egypt? YES!

We quickly entered into a vivid conversation about his life in Egypt, roaring around in a 4x4 Jeep, sleeping under the stars, and answerable to no one. The only thing in sight would be a fire crackling, throwing off sparks at a distance. His belly, full of delicious roasted lamb and surrounded as far as the eye could see by nothing but the dark rises of an ocean of sand. Those were the nights.

He told me that Egyptians are surprisingly friendly towards Americans and you actually hear a "hello" , "thank you", and "welcome" here and there. Speaking of surprises, the cab drivers are truly wonderful in an unbelievably crowded and unruly city where there are no traffic lights. There apparently seems to be a language of car horns, honks, coded beeps, and taps containing a large vocabulary of implications as the bumper to bumper cars intermingle with the floods of pedestrians. He explained to me how Pythagorus would have been dazzled to see the traffic pattern in Cairo. Enough about the traffic, give me food!

A typical dish of Egpyt is ful. Ful is smashed fava beans cooked in a copper pot with olive oil and garlic and served with large amounts of flatbread - referred to by the locals as "stone in the stomach." Precisely the solid style food needed for the daily adventures in the dessert. Since pharonic times, the poor and working class have filled up on the stuff as pretty much their principal meal of the day. If you're doing well monetary wise, you get an egg with it and perhaps some chopped pickled vegetables. The problem is most Egyptians aren't doing well, and most do not know what three meals a day is - Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. They just know Ful once a day.

Nonetheless, there is a place where traffic, poverty, and language does not matter. A majestic landscape designed by Imhotep, built by the Pharaohs, and considered to be the oldest monumental structures on earth: The Egyptian Pyramids. There are 138 discovered pyramids in Egypt but the best known ones are on the outskirts of Cairo, known as Giza. The most famous pyramid being Khufu, the largest of the pyramids at Giza and is the only one of the Ancient Wonders of the World still in existence today. The mystery and majesty of the Pyramids is beautiful and intriguing to me as they were built with the belief that they were steps serving as a gigantic stairyway for the soul of the deceased pharaoh to ascend to heaven. The shape of the Pyramid was designed to be representative of the descending rays of the sun.

Interested? Amazed? Perhaps....Is Egypt a place with a long magical past awaiting the future? I do not know that I will ever understand the Pyramids and its history, I do not know why a young man would take time to explain to me the beauty of his country in a Barnes and Noble store, and I do not know why there are certain places that plague our curiosity. However, after the travels I had with this young man by his extremely descriptive conversation about his homeland, I DO understand why the Arabists, Englishmen, Cartographers, Scholars, and mischief-makers fell in love with the 360 degree vistas of sand and sky....

For the young man, a night in Egpyt, meant a night with far away sparks under the star-kissed sky...

Fortune-Telling Picture

There's a picture I look at everyday.

For years I have been studying this picture giving it the time you'd give a masterpiece. Its truly a mesmerising picture: vivid, haunting, packed with detail and movement. There are days when its lifted me, inspired me, and driven me to move forward. If it had a title, perhaps it would be called life. It has the power to change a life. I can't measure its value to me and I didn't pay a penny for it. I can't imagine anyone else would want to own it. Its a picture that is on display but only has had an audience of one. It is a picture in my mind: one single, soulful memory of when I last shared a time in the kitchen with someone very special to me. A lingering memory that has been there with me from event to event, and kitchens to kitchens all over the place. Its a recurring image flashing in and out of my head as I have worked my way from one dimensional chef to author, speaker, and restaurateur. The image is invisible to the press, media, and critics. It feeds the child within me and is the foundation for the person I am today. It's a snapshot of a time of innocence, reverie, and fairytale hopes. A flash, as if it were lightning, where fate and prophecy collide.

It's that special person sitting around the counter, and I, not even old enough to do many things (I recall I still had braces) , making them a meal. At that point in time, I had not decided to become a chef yet. This was surely the first meal I had ever made for someone and it rendered that feeling of satisfaction chefs attain when they know they've made a wonderful dish. Ironically, it was purely unintentional and one of those moments where someone says, "I'm hungry, make me something to eat." So I put my game face on, and took a shot at it, afterall, doubt would not feed an empty stomach. I looked in the pantry, the refrigerator, and gathered my ingredients and equipment. Two hours later and a little bit of this and a little bit of that, I had created a semi-delicious meal for someone and it was by accident - or not.

That day, that person told me, "I hope you cook for me like this for the rest of my life. You should think about becoming a chef. But if you don't want to become a chef, whatever you do, do it with as much love, detail, and passion as you did this dish, today."

As one of my mentors once said (Thomas Keller), "We take one fundamental lesson we learn from our youth and apply it to everything we do later in life and this will translate into our cooking. A vision or memory will move us toward the pursuit of our dreams."

As fate would have it, I became a chef. Back then, even though I didn't know it, my life was being shown to me in one moment. It was beautiful. Cooking without rules, recipes, or guidelines. I was doing it to merely feed someone - a gesture of kindness, nuture, and nothing else. However, in its innocence and virtue lay a fortune-telling greatness.

Now, I still see that picture and it drives me. " I hope you cook for me like this for the rest of my life........whatever you do, do it with as much love, detail, and passion as you did this dish, today."

It's that picture that has taken me everywhere.

Paris

The year was 1945. The month was November. The city was Paris. The world had passed through the long darkness of the "war to end all wars" - World War II, and was now ready for the brief brilliance and frenzy of the Gatsby's. The city was filled with artists, writers, composers, army officers, journalists, businessmen, and diplomats all with one thing in common: a passion for Paris. They came from all different directions in search of romance, beauty, and a tender utopia where they were free to kiss in the streets, hold a glass of champagne, and dance on the cobblestone in the wee hours. Something they found in old flower markets, haute couture, bibliotheques of novels, a night a Les Halles, La Vie Moderne, Chocolateries, Maxims, La Vie en Rose, the Eiffel Tower, magical Bistros, quiet corners, and secret benches. Paris is the mecca for both romance and food alike. The Gourmet capital of the World. Afterall, Paris means Foie Gras, Charcuterie, Wine, Cassoulet, Croissants, Muille Fuille, Champagne, Truffles, Confit, Butter, Breads,and Tartars. There is something so enchanting about sitting outdoors on a cool spring day in a boulangerie or bistro at three o'clock, sipping a fine wine, munching on a crusty golden baguette with amazing butter. Followed by fresh oysters that burst in your mouth with a perfect mignionette, escargot with a magnificent garlic parsley butter that has the ideal balance of garlic to bread crumbs, steamed mussels with Pomme Frites that are to die for - so good you have to dip the fries in the sauce, Coq Au Vin that falls right off the bone, and finished with airy profiteroles filled with vanilla bean ice cream drizzled with a luscious, velvety chocolate ganache. The city passes you by in conversations, landscapes, and street muscians. The sounds, flavors, and words captivate you and you realize you have been transported to another dimension. A dimension of what life is supposed to be. A life you are in love with.

As lovers say in the movies, "We'll Always Have PARIS..." We've actually always had Paris. It's time to revist the magic and the flavor. I think we are all ready (once more) for the brilliance of the Gatsby's. The year is 2010, the month is January, the city is PARIS.

The "Absurdist" Side of Life

It all began this afternoon doing a syndicated interview for WGN Radio when the host of the show asked me how coincidental it was that my food directly corresponded with all other aspects of my career. Or perhaps, it was that all other aspects of my career have influenced my food? "COINCIDENTAL?!!!" Either way, I've always deemed it to be true that chefs creations would be a beautiful interpretation of life of some sorts. I believed that dishes derived from deep rooted family traditions, travels, research of local agriculture, economic state, and celebrated occasions. For a chef to create a dish, there needs to be inspiration. Without it, we'd merely be people following a formula, in this case, a formula for food. In my case, chefs are artists.

The host of the show suddenly decides to be difficult and asks me, " So you don't follow a formula for food? Because I interviewed some of the professors at your University who all said you were top of the class. Meaning a great student - Meaning someone who follows formulas very well."

I took a quick breath as we were live on the air and then this is what blurted out: " That's funny. It's true that I was a great student. It came easy to me. I have always thought that it takes the same amount of effort to make yourself miserable or make yourself happy. Therefore, if I was going to be in there for a long period of time, I was going to make it the best run ever. I was dedicated to becoming the best. I aced all my classes and then stayed after class to train for competitions with a certified German Master Chef. I learned every sauce, every method, where, why, and how, it came to be. I had even learned the cultural backgrounds of all different types of culinary techniques. At one point, I had over 500 pages of recipes memorized. I was a student for 16 hours of my day, 6 days a week. Subsequently, May 2004 rolled along and it was graduation time. Congratulations! Off to the real world of formulated chefs! Maybe one day I'll get to become an executive chef of a prestigious hotel. NOT! The time spent as a real graduated chef was good for the first 15 minutes....okay, maybe 20 minutes. I realized it was everything I wasn't. Formulated.

I soon became enchanted with the stories behind a dish instead of exactly how to make it perfect. I fell in love with the vineyards and their vintners instead of knowing that there's 50mg of yeast in a wine barrel to make the sugar turn into alcohol. I was enthralled by the tradition of eating 12 grapes on New Year's Eve or eating Carrot Cake on your wedding day. I found myself getting excited over trying a new wine, a new fish I had never even seen before, or smelling a vanilla pod that actually came from Madagascar. It was an awakening of the senses. Take the movie, SIDEWAYS, for example. They were in search of wine but on their unforgettable trip, they found so much more. There is so much more to food and wine, when you submerge yourself into is as opposed to just knowing stuff about it. It was this love affair with the magic of food and wine that took me to Napa Valley California - which lead me on a tout of inspiration to open what is now Chef Adrianne's.

The host responded, " You're telling me that you opened a restaurant, the number one riskiest business, on a TOUT of Inspiration? Talk about the ABSURDIST Side of Life! You fell in love with an absurd idea, took a risk, and there you go!" I didn't know if she was mocking me or applauding me.

It is now almost three years later, and while I do acknowledge that there are many facets to opening a restaurant or being a great chef, I know for certain that the origin owning greatness in it, is inspiration. You want to be a great chef, you must be inspired. You want a great restaurant, you must be inspired. The best artists of all time created their best works on a blaze of inspiration.

Ironically, the WGN radio host taught me to answer this question possibly more correct than anyone ever could:

Want inspiration? Try taking a walk on the "Absurdist" Side of Life.

87 Lunches

It is Christmas time afterall and aside from all of the wonderful gift-giving, family, and food.... there's one thing (usually) everyone does. You can't help but do it - its human progression. We reminisce the year that's just about to leave us and anxiously await the one that's at our heels. 2009 held many extraordinary moments but few as special as these 87 lunches. I am entirely grateful because I acknowledge that I have a priviledged and blessed life. Nonetheless, this life does come with a little bit of hectic and a dash of crazy. So for once a week, there's a sacred time and place where the craziness stops and the phone calls are ignored. It's different eachtime, of course, with some repeats as those make it to our tops list.

Throughout the year, we have managed to pinpoint where to get the best of the best (a project that for some may take a lifetime) : Japanese oysters, Champagne, BBQ, Burgers, French fare, Pasta, Breakfast, Chicken Wings, Profiteroles, Lobster Rolls. etc. Some of the experiences have been a "hit or miss" but were accompanied by a jaw dropping view of some sorts - a view of the city, a view of the ocean- or simply the clouds in sky because we were on a rooftop.

It is difficult to describe the feeling you get when you taste "The best thing I ever had.." That's how we felt when we had, the Japanese oysters, BBQ, and perfectly cold and bubbly champagne. It was like drinking diamonds and fireworks! These mind-blowing 87 lunches were always complemented with something else. Perhaps a private boat with our very own captain to cruise us along the bay, a helicopter ride, a tour of the Versace mansion, Horse-riding lessons, Vizcaya, Tropical Gardens, Swimming with Dolphins, Thriller Speed Boats, Crab Leg picnics next to the water with Dom P, the the Barnacle, Coral Castle, Metro Zoo, Buying umbrellas and chairs and having a beach day with another little special person, Spa Days, or just sitting on top of the Key Biscayne Lighthouse listening to U2's Elevation with nothing but sunshine on our faces. These are the moments where it hits you that it truly doesn't get any better than this. It is really the stuff you only read about in magazines or watch on the Travel Channel. And for a second, it takes your breath away and to the center of your bones, you feel that heaven is right there.

There is so much to talk about in 87 lunches if you think about it. There's the occassional day to day stuff, what happened at the restaurant last night, the funny stories of our guests, movies, family, and the drama that naturally occurs within our staff. But inbetween the nonesense filler conversations, come the profound, twisted and tangled, life-changing, moving declarations and remarks that reassure you somehow that you were supposed to hear that -at that very moment.

At much or no surprise, this beautiful story comes as a "beautiful mess. " The beautiful person that I share these 87 lunches with is exactly this: A Beautiful Mess.

"You are strong but you're needy, humble but you're greedy. Based on your body language and shorty cursive I've been reading. You're style is quite selective but your mind is rather reckless. Well, I guess it just suggests that this is just what happiness is. Hey, what a beautiful mess this is. It's like picking up trash in dresses. Well, it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write, they kind of turn themselves into knives. And don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction 'Cause I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear 'Cause here we are, here we are. Although you were biased, I love your advice. Your comebacks they're quick and probably have to do with your insecurities. There's no shame in being crazy depending on how you take these words they're paraphrasing this relationship we're staging. And it's a beautiful mess, yes, it is. It's like we're picking up trash in dresses. Well, it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say kind of turn themselves into blades. And kind and courteous is a life I've heard of. But it' s nice to say that we played in the dirt. 'Cause here, here we are, here we are. We're still here. And what a beautiful mess this is....It's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes. And through timeless words and priceless pictures, We'll fly like birds not of this earth. And tides they turn and hearts disfigure. But that's no concern when we're wounded together. And we tore our dresses and stained our shirts but it's nice today, oh, the wait was so worth it."

87 Lunches later and 2009 wrapping up, this beautiful mess could be everything and nothing, could be crazy and beautiful, could be a yes and could be a no. It could be something so intense that it could drown you, or save you.

With a sense of wonder, I think to myself will these 87 lunches ever mean anything or will they just be a beautiful way to taste the best things this city has to offer? Will they be a collection of amazing mouthfuls? Or will they be a monumental memory of a perfect time, a perfect place, with a perfect person?

Ask me about my "tops list" of 2009 and I will always say 87 lunches. In the grand scheme of things, if I were to describe how life is supposed to feel,......... I would also say 87 lunches.

Dreaming of Ducks

My latest fantasy? A Peking Duck cart, set up smack in the middle of Lincoln Road. I can't stop thinking about it; there's a place out in Flushing, NY that sells wonderful squares of crisp duck skin tucked into little buns with scallions and a squiggle of Hoisin sauce for a dollar. It's a luxurious and indulgent snack. There's just something about that cripsy skin with that soft, juicy meat. It's simply more exciting than chicken and of course, it tip toes into the glamour of eating. It's not the same to say, "I had chicken for lunch" as it is to say, "I had Duck for lunch".
In a dream, I've bought the buns, the scallions, the hoisin, and then went back and bought more. I made these sinfully good mini-sandwiches for some friends of mine and as we devoured the rich little tidbits, we began designing the cart, the signage, even the uniforms. I was dreaming of going into the DUCK Business!!! Afterall, I do believe Miami has yet to experience the duck culture of NYC or San Francisco. (My two favorite Duck spots)
By the next day the fantasy had faded. Still, for about an hour every day the idea comes floating back, and I find myself dreaming of ducks. Or at the very least, dreaming of eating those extremely delicious little duck buns.

If you too find yourself daydreaming of these snacks, go to your local grocery store and buy sweet hawaiian rolls, green onions, hoisin sauce, and sweet chili for added spice. Then go to a really good Chinese restaurant and buy a Peking Duck. In a hot saute pan, crisp up the duck. Add the hoisin, green onions, and sweet chili to the sweet rolls. Place crispy duck inbetween the bread and Enjoy! They are to die for.

After consuming these delicious sandwiches, you will find yourself daydreaming of ducks....

A Home-made Gift

I have wanted this caramel corn recipe for a very long time. Which is weird, because I am not, in general, a caramel corn person. No matter where it comes from, it’s usually a little sticky, a little cloying, a little heavy, a little stale. But I’m crazy about this caramel corn. I saw Twilight (part 1 and 2) last month, and basically, I am to this caramel corn as Edward Cullen is to Bella Swan. I’m in love with it! And I am destined to wrestle, for ever and ever, with a violent desire to eat it.
Most commercial caramel corns, or the specimens I’ve tasted, at least, don’t really taste like caramel. They only taste sweet. Gross! This one tasted like true caramel. It tasted like butter and brown sugar and heat - and, crucially, a little bit of salt. It was also studded with salted peanuts. (Amazing!)
So for a few years in a row, a group and myself vowed to give eachother homemade gifts for Christmas and trust me when I say, this Caramel Corn is the best gift ever! Some giveaway cookies in tins. I give away caramel corn in a bag. The problem is, it’s easy. And quick. And you can't stop making it once you start. The requests will become endless.
You pop some popcorn, and then you put it into a bowl. You make a caramel, and you cook it to 250 degrees. You quickly dump the hot caramel over the popcorn, and then you fold it in as well as you can, and then you add salted peanuts. Then comes the clincher: you bake it for one hour in a low oven. Not all caramel corn recipes include this step, but I think it’s the deal-sealer. In the oven, the caramel, which had started to harden as you stirred it into the popcorn, gets a chance to soften again. You can now stir it into the popcorn more easily and evenly. The whole, gooey mess will crisp spectacularly as it cools, and the kitchen will smell outrageous, and then you will turn into Edward Cullen. I’m so sorry.One last thing: don’t be upset if the peanuts don’t seem to want to stay mixed in with the popcorn. Heaven is the handful of caramel-coated peanuts left in the container after the popcorn is gone.

Here's the recipe:

Caramel Corn with Salted Peanuts:

1 (3½-ounce) package plain (unbuttered natural flavor) microwave popcorn, or about 10 cups fresh popcorn popped by any method, lightly salted1 cup packed light brown sugar¼ cup light corn syrup6 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted¼ tsp. salt½ tsp. baking soda2 tsp. vanilla extract1 cup lightly salted peanuts, roughly choppedPreheat the oven to 250°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.If using microwave popcorn, pop the popcorn according to the package instructions. Coat a large mixing bowl with nonstick cooking spray, and dump the popcorn into the bowl, taking care to pick out and discard any unpopped kernels.In a medium saucepan, whisk together the brown sugar, corn syrup, butter, salt, and 2 tablespoons of water. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Continue to simmer, whisking often, until the mixture reads 250°F on a candy thermometer, about 3 to 4 minutes. Immediately remove the pan from the heat, and whisk in the baking soda and vanilla. Quickly pour the hot caramel over the popcorn. Use a rubber spatula to gently fold the caramel into the popcorn, taking care to distribute it as evenly as you can. Stir in the peanuts, and transfer the mixture to the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 1 hour, stirring and turning the popcorn with a spatula every 20 minutes. Remove from the oven, and place on a cooling rack for 20 minutes. Gently break up the popcorn, and serve.Store in an airtight container for up to 5 days.
Yield: about 10 cups