Skillet Doux

Top Chef Annoyance

Okay, I don't want to turn into a reality television blog, I really don't. But my discontent has been growing and I need to open the floor for discussion.

Is anybody else irritated with season two of Top Chef?

It took a lot for reality television to finally rope me. Not only was it a subject near and dear, but I thought the first season of Top Chef struck a nice balance. Yes, it's reality TV. Yes, without conflict they don't have an audience. Yes, to generate said conflict they sometimes need to stoke the fire a bit... or at least provide the matches. But at the end of the day, the show never forgot that it was still centered around a compelling competition with (mostly) talented chefs. If there's a scale of serious competition vs. artificial drama, I thought season one parked itself squarely in the middle, and that's why it won me over.

Now, sadly, I can't shake the feeling that that the food has taken a backseat to the fireworks. Maybe I'm being overly critical, or maybe I have an overly rosy recollection of season one. But I need to know if this is all a figment of my imagination. The evidence, after the jump, so as to avoid spoilers:

In Support of Edible Gifts

	Dominic Armato

Judging from the mall parking lots and Michigan Avenue gridlock this week, we're apparently in the midst of the annual holiday shopping insanity. Comprehensive gift idea lists for every conceivable hobby are ubiquitous, and those food-related are certainly no exception. I've already seen a few myself, and while I'm certainly in full support of anything intended to enhance the awesomeness of foodie gift giving, I'm struck by the fact that they all seem to overlook what I think is the coolest category of food-related gifts.

I'm talking ingredients.

Not prepared foods, mind you. Don't get me wrong, in my experience food geeks love to receive superlative chocolates, preserves and pates. But food geeks live to make superlative chocolates, preserves and pates. When you're somebody who loves to cook, there's nothing that makes your heart sing like stunning ingredients. I couldn't possibly count the number of times I've walked by some incredible ingredient in a specialty store only to wish I had a good excuse to turn it into something. White truffles, specialty mustards, Kobe beef, 50-year balsamic, fresh wasabi and yuzu, premium olive oils, Jamon Iberico, lobes of foie gras, specialty bacon, fennel pollen... they may seem mundane or odd next to kitchenwares and cookbooks, but they're all the kinds of things we long to use but never quite manage to justify buying.

Perhaps I'm deluding myself into thinking that these are the kinds of presents that would appeal to anybody beyond the most fanatical and devoted home cooks, I dunno. Am I alone in thinking there's vast untapped potential here?

H.A.C.K.

	Dominic Armato

It starts here.

Of course, I'm a long, long way from being the first to champion this particular cause, but it's one that's near and dear to my heart, and it's time to give the movement a name and make it official. There are people out there who desperately need our help. People like my aunt and uncle. They're wonderful folks, I love them to death and they know their way around the kitchen. But as I discovered this past Thursday, they are among the countless victims of the dreaded Problem.

The problem, of course, is that the drawers of our nation's kitchens are choked with crappy knives... old, nicked, flimsy, serrated, dull and otherwise useless cutlery that makes food preparation challenging at best and impossible at worst. Crappy knives mangle the most perfect tomatoes, turn beautiful fresh herbs into a bruised paste, hack helplessly at seemingly indestructible root vegetables, and when they slip... as they always do... send the poor souls who wield them to the hospital in droves. As such, on this twenty-seventh of November, two-thousand and six, I hereby announce the formation of H.A.C.K.

Humans Against Crappy Knives

As with any similar organization, we do not seek to shame or ridicule those who are cutlery-impaired, but rather to reach out and help with understanding and compassion through the mantra of One Good Chef's Knife. One Good Chef's Knife is the single most important piece of cookware in the kitchen, and yet is one of the most frequently overlooked. One Good Chef's Knife will easily handle 95% of even the most creative home cook's cutlery needs, and do a perfectly adequate job for the remaining 5%. You certainly can spend an obscene amount of money on One Fricking Awesome Chef's Knife, but the budget-conscious lines of some quality manufacturers (such as J.A. Henckels or Wusthof-Trident) ensure that One Good Chef's Knife can easily be found for $40 or less. One Good Chef's Knife may not be as impressive (or imposing) as the similarly priced 12 piece set of crappy knives, but it's infinitely more useful. It is from One Good Chef's Knife that all good things in the kitchen flow.

Go forth. Spread the word of H.A.C.K. The work is its own reward.

The Tru Crew vs. Mario Batali

As predicted, fennel turned out to be a fantastic ingredient. We'll save the spoilers for after the jump, but first, a couple of general observations.

Screw the frozen peas and hamburger... this is the kind of ingredient we should be seeing on Iron Chef. Fennel is bold, distinctive, flexible and multifaceted, and I think this was plainly evidenced by what looked like not only one of the tastiest menus we've seen on ICA, but also one of the most interesting. Admittedly, I'm not exactly coming from a place of objectivity. I've been an unabashed champion of the vegetable for a long time, and it's at or near the top of my personal wish list for Iron Chef Chicago. But I can't think of a time when I've been more envious of the panel.

Second, where have I been? Watermelon radish? Where the heck did that come from? I make it a personal mission to say informed about these things. Clearly, I'm slipping. A subsequent web search has revealed that it's evidently a mild heirloom Chinese radish that, aside from its color, is fairly typical. But man, is that color stunning.

But onto the food!

Chicago Represents

The recent hamburger / frozen peas ingredient lameness and the two ties with no overtime have forced me to back off my earlier support of Iron Chef America a little bit, but a couple of hometown chefs are challenging shortly and the ingredients are among my absolute favorites. If you're somebody who likes for the secret ingredient to remain a secret, stop reading now.

First up is the Tru crew, the Earl of Amuse and defender of foie gras, Rick Tramonto, along with his dessert-oriented partner in crime, Gale Gand. My ladylove and I have dined at Tru twice in the past few years, and really enjoyed ourselves on both occasions. Of course, they had to make it as difficult as possible for me to pick sides by pairing them up against Batali, one of the few remaining FoodTV chefs I respect. The ingredient is fennel. I couldn't be more thrilled with the selection, though it hardly seems fair. That's squarely in Mario's wheelhouse. In any case, it should be an awesome battle that first airs on July 30th.

The second is slated for sometime in September, with the exact date TBD. I'm not quite as jazzed about it, but it'll probably be more interesting. Half of Chicago's vaunted molecular gastronomy duo will be challenging. Homaro Cantu of Moto will be bringing the weirdness. Though I was far more impressed by the other half of the duo, Grant Achatz, and was somewhat disappointed by my singular visit to Moto, I'm still anxious to see Cantu work. He'll be using another of my favorites, the noble beet, to challenge Morimoto. Though I want to root for the hometown guy, they could have made it a lot easier for me by putting him up against Flay (stupid Flay). In any case, I'm sure Cantu will have the lab equipment in tow, so it should be another fun one.

In-depth analysis to follow the events. Hopefully no annoyance, but I make no promises.

Dietary "Restrictions"

	Dominic Armato

Well, we just got back from the full-on 24 course extravaganza at Alinea, and the write-up is coming... lotsa photos to edit... but in the interim, if you'll pardon the rant, I'd like to raise a topic that I've always found maddening, particularly tonight.

Alinea serves a set tasting menu, the only option being whether to eat the full 24 course tour or a smaller 12 course sampling. So before starting the meal, the staff routinely asks if there are any allergies or dietary restrictions at the table. We ate in the downstairs room, which holds five tables. Over the course of our meal, there were a grand total of 16 diners who passed through, not counting us. From these 16 diners, we overheard the following requests:

• No foie gras.
• I don't want cilantro.
• I don't like oysters.
• I don't like strong garlic.
• A little is okay, but go easy on the gelatin.
• No seafood.
• No onions.

Now, whether I think these preferences are silly or not is irrelevant. People don't like things (or, more frequently, think they don't like things), and that's their call. But there are three elements that, in concert, I found absolutely maddening. First, in all of these cases, it was made very clear by the diners that allergies were not involved. Second, while the foie gras may or may not have been an ethical choice, the rest clearly were not. Third, it's a freaking 24 course menu. If a whopping three of them are objectionable in some way, that leaves you with twenty-one to enjoy. So, in short, nearly half of the diners in our room tonight were citing dietary restrictions, based not on health issues or ethical/religious reasons, but rather on a simple unwillingness to sample, or even consider, the full scope of the highly detailed and meticulously planned dining experience prepared by the chef.

Perhaps this is an overly sensitive response on my part, but you've just made the choice to come to one of the hottest new restaurants in the nation, with a young chef who is known for creating funky, unusual dishes, and where it is indirectly made clear at the time of your reservation that you do not get to choose what you eat. So if you are such a picky eater that you refuse to eat onions, arguably the singlemost ubiquitous and indispensable ingredient across nearly all cuisines worldwide, hearing your "no onions" edict inspires in me a nearly irresistible urge to stand up, turn around, walk over to your table and ask...

...Why are you here?!?

Clearly I would never do so, but is this instinct out of line? You don't watch a Jerry Bruckheimer film and edit out the explosions. You don't go to a pro football game and demand that they cut down on the hard tackles. You don't go to a Maya Angelou poetry reading and ask her if maybe she'd mind not bringing up the subject of race tonight. So if your food preferences are so important that when you go to a fine dining establishment, you feel it necessary to make the kitchen bend over backwards on the off chance that perhaps 5% of the food you'll be given might not be exactly to your liking, shouldn't you just consider eating somewhere else?

Oops.

I think I just made a critical error.

I just finished watching Bourdain's special on Ferran Adriá and El Bulli. This is a really, really big problem. My soul is now officially up for sale. If somebody told me they could get me in tomorrow night, I'd find some way to get there.

I have always been suspicious of the molecular gastronomy movement. But what this special did was convince me that Adriá is about the food. The process, as nutty as it seems, is still simply the means. This goes way beyond creative and inventive. What Adriá is doing now seems much, much bigger to me, and I'm suddenly consumed by a need to see it for myself.

Soooo... anybody got an in?

New Digs!

	Dominic Armato

Check 'em out!

I've been contemplating bailing on LiveJournal for some time now, and due to an interesting development that may or may not come to bear over the next few weeks (and you may or may not get to hear about it), I figured now was the time.

I expect that the site is going to be all kinds of screwy over the next couple of days while I sort out domains and style sheets and such. So forgive me if the site blinks in and out of existence and flip-flops between looking swanky and looking like it was coded by a 12 year old in 1993.

Sadly, the comments and any posts before 2006 didn't make it, at least for now. I may transfer those over later if I'm feeling ambitious.

In the meantime, whaddya think?

Changing Seasons

	Dominic Armato

The weather warms, the sun has returned, and taqueria season gives way to fine dining season. It was purely by accident, but with the following summer lineup, I almost feel as though I should make reservations at Everest, Avenues and Moto just to complete the circuit.

June 27th - Zealous
July 8th - Alinea
August 5th - Schwa
August 18th - Charlie Trotter's

When I was in college, I once stated that having tickets for three or four upcoming concerts in my desk drawer was a fantastic feeling. These days, the theory is the same, but the concert tickets have been supplanted by restaurant reservations.

Should be an exciting summer... more to come!

A Very Close One

	Dominic Armato

Well, we're finally back to our winning ways, though only just barely. Our challengers were absolutely fantastic, and I hope they'll come back for a rematch at some point. We nearly had our first tie, the margin of victory being two hundredths of a point, but we somehow managed to stumble through and just barely eke out a win. Frankly, given that we were deep in the weeds almost the entire evening (perhaps moreso than we've ever been), I'm amazed we managed to get anything out on the table. But thankfully, I'm blessed with super-sous extraordinaire, Kirsten, who I'm certain had no idea what she was getting into when we did the first Iron Chef Chicago five and a half years ago, and somehow still manages to put up with me.

Speaking of which, the day after Iron Chef always serves as a stark reminder that I made the right choice in not pursuing a culinary career. Yesterday, Kirsten and I put 84 dishes on the table. My feet ache, my legs are weak, my back is cramped and my head is aching and foggy. And then I remember that there are people who do this every day. I can barely get off the sofa, much less do it again. Though I will allow myself a little cooking this evening. The minimum order for Wagyu was one pound, and I only needed a half, so I have a nice little steak waiting for me in the fridge. Snake River Farms doesn't produce a pure Kobe-style Wagyu (they cross-breed them with Angus), but it's still a damn fine piece of beef, so I'm looking forward to it.

Now, with the judging behind us, the veil of secrecy has been lifted. Photos and a recipe or two will follow later (thanks to Lindsay... I was in no position to take the time for photos last night), but for now, here's the menu:

Sauteed Garlic Cloves, Three Flavors
Steaming Garlic Broth with Wagyu and Green Garlic
Roasted Garlic Raviolini with Egg Yolk Sauce and Crispy Pancetta
Fried Garlic-Crusted Halibut with Pickled Garlic-Miso Sauce
Pork Tenderloin with Ancho-Cherry Sauce, Garlic Confit and Green Garlic Salad
Roasted Garlic Creme Brulee with Strawberries and Balsamic Syrup