Potatoes, as a New World food are one of the biggies… Though they were never eaten by anyone outside of the New World until about 1550 BCE, food anthropologists posit that tubers were cultivated in South America about 20,000 years ago. They were born, as it were, in Chile but ancient potato concentration seems to have been around Peru where they were blue, purple, pink and/or yellow…depending on the mineral composition of the soil in which any particular potato might be grown. Those types of colorful potatoes have become a kind of boutique potato today…with the purple Peruvian potatoes, the waxy yellow fingerling or  Russian banana fingerlings…they’re out there…and they can be quite good.
Here in the States we like our potatoes big and white. We like the Russet Burbank potatoes, and the kennebec at one time was a very nice variety I used to buy way back in the days before In-n-Out Burger bought about a third of Idaho and made some Kennebec spud farmers quite happy I’m sure…the Yukon Gold potato has become quite popular in recent years…french fries are everyone’s favorite…they’re from Belgium, BTW, not France.

Nevertheless, they’re popular in Mexico where they might sprinkle theirs w/cumin, dried chile arbol and salt…or any other various flavors of powders, for instance, ant salt…made from ground up ants and salt. It’s tasty, adds that bit of protein you may be looking for in your diet, you know…or ground up chapulines (that’s grasshoppers, people)…chile powder, etc. I once brought home a ziplock bag of hand-harvested Oaxacan Sea Salt from one of my trips. It was still kind of moist and tasted wonderful. Tasted like the ocean…

So we got off at the airport, grabbed a cab to the hotel and checked in. Way earlier than expected. After examining the hotel room for snakes and spiders, and finding none, we changed into our swimwear and huaraches and hit the beach. I recall thinking that we were starving to death, but the water distracted us…the water on the island’s west side is amazing. It was so clear, so blue with just a touch of clear greenness to it. The island itself is just a big flat rock, with very little surface water, i.e., no rivers or lakes…it’s just a great big plateau sticking up no more than 49 feet above the sea. There is some soil, lots of trees, but it’s really not very habitable…the drinking water comes mostly from a desalinization facility located on the island’s south shore. All the food is flown in from the mainland. The hotel served an odd kind of cuisine, food that wasn’t indigenous to the island, cooked by local cooks who were…to be eaten by tourists who, by and large, weren’t all that interested in local food or not local food to begin with…and yet, it was quite good…grilled beef steaks marinated in Dos Equis beer, slabs of grilled onions, canned diced tomato and canned pickled jalapenos, mixed together with fresh cilantro into a kind of de facto pico de gallo…long curly yellow fried plantains, fresh panela cheese from the mainland, packaged white flour tortillas and fried jalapeno poppers (the manufactured chile popper product having come from a box)…K. and I were surprised at the dearth of local culture here, but when you follow the tourists, that’s what you get. We stayed in the water till we were burnt to bacon. Next morning we got back in the water again. We still had a lot of Mexico to take care of but being in the ocean here, with its subtropical weather and underwater visibility like maybe a hundred feet, maybe 200 feet…swimming in this crystal water seems more like flying…it’s hard to just get up and get out, put on your sandals and simply walk away.

The plane skimmed just above the dark green carpet of lush treetops and I stared out the window. The jungle goes all the way to the horizon when you’re at such a low altitude. Telephone poles appear. Soon, a few dirt streets showed up on the scene, papayas, mango trees…a whitewashed plywood sign advertised Pepsi from where they’d gotten it propped up against a gray cinderblock wall in the tan dust. The plane released it’s landing gear and then the wheels touched down on the quote runway, if you could call it that…funny what passes in other countries, we wouldn’t even think about permitting…it was just a broken up concrete strip with grass growing up through the cracks that you might do a better job of making on a Saturday morning with a trip to Lowe’s and a garden hose in the back yard. I mean you wouldn’t want to drive your pick-up truck on it, let alone land a plane…and yet land we did…you could hear the ‘Captain’ stomping on the brakes and spitting out Spanish expletives. It was a pretty fine piece of airline pilotry, really… 

K. and I got out and wandered downstairs through the cement interior of the tiny Mexican airport. It was under construction at the time. We walked out into the sun and within seconds we had a local quote tour guide. He said where you going? Are you going across to the island? I get you tickets.
Thanks but we have tickets.
For when? How long do you want to wait here? I can get you there right now. A plane is leaving in like ten minutes.
Yes, but I’m not in any hurry. Are we in any hurry, K.?
No.
How long you two wanna hang out here to get bothered by guys like me? Come on give me 20 bucks each and you be on a plane over to the island in like fifteen minutes.
Well, how do I know you’ll come back? I stupidly asked.
Come on man, what are we talking about? 40 bucks? You a rich guy.
I gave him 40 bucks.
K. says what are you doing?
I go why not?
The ’guide’ said follow me, so we did. We never even put down our bags or took off our backpacks. We just followed him. Next thing you know, we’re in a plane that’s skimming over the sea to the island. The water goes all the way to the horizon at those low altitudes…we haven’t eaten anything that didn’t come out of a Mexican vending machine for days.

So it happens that some of my chef friends will ask me, what’s the deal with the funky Mexican food?
I really don’t know. I’ve been eating Mexican food since I was a wee lad and while I may not really understand what’s the deal with the Mexican food thing, I can’t deny how much I love it. I love a cheesy quesadilla. With pico de gallo. And guacamole.
I mean, I’ve spent my life as a chef making quote upscale food, or cooking from a classical tradition, i.e. French technique, knife skills, and Escoffier-esque terminology, I love ‘fine dining’ as much as the next arrogant foodie…and I’m not from Mexico, though I’ve had the privilege of going on several dining trips to various locations in Mexico…I’ve rode on the coattails of a few celebrity chefs, for sure…anyway, point being, let’s say you have some homemade flour tortillas that you just made and you put one in a frying pan with a little Mexican Manchego, a little queso panela, and some queso fresco….cook it gently, low heat, till it begins to melt, then fold it over, it’s very simple. It’s one of the first foods I ever cooked, this quesadilla, something from my childhood that still gives me the warm fuzzies…eat that quesadilla right up. I mean, what’s wrong with that?

Sonora Grill chefs were serving carnitas tacos with roasted tomato, garlic and chile salsa and basically having a blast at the PCFWC. A lot of the attendees were there to taste the many various wines and beers on hand. A lot of those folks were really doing some…tasting…nothing wrong with that…me, I was honored to hang out and try some food…got a chance to talk at length with Ryan of the Copper Onion, Bowman from Forage…cool chefs…very enjoyable event. There were some other hot shots there…can’t remember all their names… and those wacky kids Tom and Jen from Salt Lake Magazine , and also Whole Foods…when are we getting a Whole Foods in Ogden? Can someone please tell me when we’re gonna get a Whole Foods around here?

Last week, Steve and I went to Abravanel Hall down in SLC to see Anthony Bourdain talking about food and travel, celebrity chefs and about being a dad and eating strange foods in third world countries. He is a great writer, a knowledgeable chef, and a very funny and insightful speaker. He spoke for a certain period of time and then he opened up the floor, took some questions and then when he was done speaking he just walked off stage and split. A very cool guy…if he was still speaking, I would still be sitting there.

Almost immediately upon landing I found myself in Spice Market with my uncles Gene and Roger. None of us had been there. I’d only read about it online. From Ogden, it seemed like it would be my kind of restaurant. These 2 live in NYC, but had never gone to eat at that place and it’s a kind of party scene so they really needed an excuse to go. This really isn’t where most 65 year olds go. Then again, my uncles are way beyond cool.
The menu was amazing. We ordered a prix fixe dinner, which included ‘5 courses with 10 tastes each’ in the words of our stunning waitress, who I later found out was studying to be an actress. The food was intoxicating. And there was so much food with so many spicy flavors. An abundance of decadence. I was lavished with essences, soups, salads, slaws and ingredients, components, hints, scents, suggestions, forks and knives. Lime leaves, galangal, taro,sumac, Thai basil, saffron,  lemongrass, ramps, papaya, eel, douchi, halo halo, the kitchen sink!…they had stuff coming out of all over Asia. It was amazing. Someone had told the maitre d’ I was the Executive Chef of the Sonora Grill, the Best Mexican Restaurant in Utah, USA, I think it was Gene, because the next thing you know, here comes the maitre d’, with another course of food, and followed by a young man, Felix, with more food, and then more food and more food. O this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been here before…Felix and the maitre d’…and they were really chatting me up too. I would have said something but my mouth was full of food! They were peeling grapes and stuffing em in my mouth!As it turns out, by the time several courses had passed, I found out that those two were studying to be actors too! I half expected Chef Vongerichten himself, you know, he could be an actor. He always reminded me of Martin Scorsese anyway, but then I came to my senses. I was suffering from sensory overload. I got a hold of myself. I saved room for dessert. I got a quick cab ride down to Union Square Park and went out for late night espressos with an old friend!… Sleep?… Sleep Shmeep bleeped the sheep. I’ll sleep when I’m dead!

Someone asked me about a particular Mexican food preparation yesterday when I was at the bank getting some cash. She said it was marinated roasted pork with lemon and oranges and it was totally delicious but she just couldn’t remember the name of the dish. I said it sounds like Cochinita Pibil.
She said O that’s it! It’s Cochinita Pibil.
I said I love that dish. It’s one of my favorite things in life to eat that dish.
She goes yeah it’s sooo good.
I ignored the person standing nearby who said ‘O that’s not Mexican food.’

Mexican food isn’t just one cuisine, though some people tend to imagine that it is. Mexico is a big place and it encompasses a large and varied culinary tradition. Cochinita pibil is, as the name suggests, a suckling pig, roasted in a Pib. A Pib being the Mayan word for a small shallow rectangular pit used for cooking seasoned meats, which are wrapped in banana leaves in Mexico’s Yucatan peninsula. The dish was made popular in this country several years ago when it was featured in the film Once Upon a Time in Mexico…

 BTW, Here’s a recipe for Cocinita Pibil

4lbs. Pork butt cut in 3 inch cubes
8oz. Achiote paste
10 cloves of garlic
2 limes, cut in half
2 lemons, cut in half
2 oranges, cut in half
8 dry bay leaves
2 t. ground cumin
½ t. ground cinnamon
1T. dried oregano
1T. Kosher salt
2T. ground black pepper.

Squeeze the citrus fruit juice out, add everything together and mash it up with your hands until you have a bright pink paste that you’re rubbing all over the pork meat.
Next you’ll need
1 lb. of banana leaves
2 white onions cut in quarters
5 roma tomatoes cut in half

Line a baking pan with the banana leaves, add the pink achiote and citrus marinated pork into the banana leaf  lined pan and top with the onions and tomatoes. Fold the banana leaves over the meat and roast it in your oven at 325 degrees for 3 hours. Or until this sweet and sour pink cochinita meat just falls apart when you put your fork into it. Serve it with fresh tortillas and avocado slices.

 And get ready to freak out because it is gonna be a flavor explosion in your mouth!

I’d been living in San Diego for about a year and was trying to get out of the business of being a chef. Of course, however, cooking was the only thing I really knew. It was 1990…or ‘91…

I got a call from a chef I’d previously worked for in Berkeley. He offered me a job as his Sous Chef at his new restaurant in the Shattuck Hotel. Well, I’d have to move back home to Berkeley. I asked my girlfriend if she wanted to sell her truck, pack everything we owned into a U-Haul and drive to Berkeley so I could take this job. She said, ‘sure, why not?’
So we quit our jobs, sold the truck, and gave notice that we were moving out of our apartment. We got a U-Haul and packed it with everything we had left. We were on the porch drinking iced tea when I got a phone call from the chef. He said, ‘Chris, I got bad news. I got fired.’
‘You got what? Why?’
‘I got in a fight with the Hotel owner. He insisted I put Caesar salad on the menu. I don’t want Caesar salad on my menu. It just doesn’t fit. It doesn’t work for me. Neither one of us wanted to bend on it… He insisted, I refused, and I got fired.’
‘What?! I love Caesar salad, dude. I have everything we own in a U-Haul and no place to live and now I don’t have a job? What’s wrong with Caesar salad? I totally love Caesar salad!! Are you out of your mind?!’

This, by the way, is my recipe for Caesar salad dressing.

Caesar salad dressing

2 egg yolks
1 whole egg
2T. lemon juice

1C. canola oil
1C. Pure olive oil
2T. lemon juice
2T. water
1t. kosher salt
2 cloves garlic
2 anchovy filets
More Kosher salt and add some fresh ground pepper to taste

Make sure the bowl of your food processor is clean and dry, put in the blade and then put the eggs and 2T. lemon juice in the bowl of your food processor. Turn it on and blend the eggs and lemon juice together. With the blade still spinning, add the oil, drop by drop. A good way to do this is to use a squirt bottle. Fill it with the oil and then drop, drop, drop. Whether you use a squirt bottle or not, after you have added about 2 tablespoons of the oil, in this way, you’re beginning to establish an emulsion and you can begin to add the oil in a small steady stream, until you’ve added all of it. Then add the rest of the lemon juice, water, salt, fresh garlic, and anchovies.

Traditionally, one would toss it with fresh Romaine lettuce, Parmesan cheese and toasted croutons. That’s exactly how I have made it for the last 20 years and to this day I still love Caesar salad.

Anyway, we drove north that night, to Berkeley. I immediately applied for and landed, the job as the Sous Chef at the same hotel, but under a different Head Chef. Caesar salad was definitely on the menu. Make mine with extra anchovies…

So I was New York a couple a weeks ago and had just ate some NY pizza, which you have to have a slice a pizza when you’re there but I was there to eat some all kinds of different food after all, so even though the overpriced slice of pizza pie was decent, it wasn’t exactly where I was really trying to go. I was looking for a hamburger. So, I got myself on the subway and made it down to Chelsea/West Village where I got off, happened to walk right by a café like kind of jazz music place called Cafe Loup that someone had recommended, completely by accident, and I was like of all the restaurants in this city what are the chances. I wonder if I should go in…no, next time…it would have been nice to hear some jazz, etc. but the situation was that I was on a mission already. Eventually, I made it down to 299 Bowery and picked up a burger at  DBGB, Daniel Boulud’s newest restaurant/bar over in this like hip part of town. I ordered one of their infamous hamburgers, it was called:
The Frenchie: a 6 oz beef patty with confit pork belly, arugula, tomato-onion compote & morbier cheese on a peppered brioche bun with cornichon, mustard & fries. (Though the house-made bun was delicious, it wasn’t peppered, BTW)
The fries were good but not perfect. The plate cost $17. It was a little silly paying that much for a burger, I didn’t think it would be worth it. After a few bites, however, once I stopped critiquing it and started just chilling out, enjoying my burger…it was actually pretty stellar. Sometimes, you just have to slow down a bit, let the juice run down to your elbow and stare at the people all busy trying to look cool…because it was a really good hamburger.