Salad Week: Chop Salad

Some folks call this one "garbage salad," but... ucchh. I can't cope with that. Let's never speak of the un-tasty name again. It's too pretty!



The great thing about a chop salad is that you can alter the ingredients easily according to what you have. Change the type of berry, add some cold pasta (like rotini or farfalle) to stretch your lettuce out (seriously), add croutons, use any kind of cheese, switch to beef, whatever. Check out the good stuff in this guy:

chopped Romaine
chopped turkey bacon
green onions
diced breaded chicken
diced avocado
pecans
strawberries
feta cheese

I just whisked up some balsamic vinaigrette (1 part vinegar to four parts olive oil) with lemon juice, Italian seasoning, pinch of salt & pepper and a little sugar to taste, but this would go with lots of different kinds of dressing.

Chop your heart out! (Eyw, that's worse than the other phrase...)

Butterscotch Sauce

Hello again, everyone! I am going to do a brief "comeback" post tonight, as a prelude to more in the coming week. I have been gone for a couple of weeks, here and there as I said, and in the last two days we have had a price negotiation, followed by an acceptance of an offer on our place. I am so excited. Chris, of course, has found a January move to be a new source of things to get nervous about and dread. But that's just his brand of anticipation.

I'm on a bit of a health kick at the moment, brought on by a feast of a Thanksgiving... But more on that later. For now, let me show you one of the sinful indulgences that brought on my currently healthy diet: butterscotch sauce. Oh, and pie. And ice cream.



At Chris' parents' house, I didn't have something to put on my ice cream (besides the raspberries, but you know, I mean something bad.) So I stuck some butterscotch morsels and a spoonful of milk in the microwave for about 20-30 seconds, and stirred them until they melted. Oh Katie, bar the door. Anyway, I came home and by happy chance, I had some butterscotch chips in the fridge, too! And I made myself a petite sundae each night with Slow Churned Light Praline until all the morsels were gone.



Hoo boy. I am going to be very, very good for awhile. Until David gets here at Christmas.

At the Bottom, on Top Chef

One of my favorite shows over the last month has been Bravo's Top Chef. I've watched every season so far (this is season 3), and this one has been, in my humble opinion, the best so far. So naturally, when my friend Jeff told me that his studio would be filming the finale in Chicago, I freaked out just a little bit. My friend Ann (also Jeff's wife) said, "Why don't you let Gina come be a PA, or work craft services or something? Then she could see the taping of the show." I said yes, yes Jeff, yes I think that would be a really really splendid idea. He told me he would email me about it, and (because he's a great guy like that) he actually did. I said I worked Monday and Tuesday, but luckily it worked out that I could come work Sunday, Wednesday, and Thursday at craft services. And so I did.

At first, just being in a studio was pretty exciting for me. And then, just seeing "Top Chef" written on stuff was even more exciting.



Well before taping started, I was running up and down stairs, hauling crates and carts and boxes of stuff, getting dirty doing cleaning and dishes, setting up catered meals, and keeping service tables replenished all day, plus various stepping and fetching. It was pretty much some of the hardest work I've ever done, but I was thrilled to be there doing it. Right about the time they handed me a nametag that read, "Gina, Magical Elves/Top Chef," you could have knocked me over with a feather. There it was, MY NAME on the same tag as TOP CHEF. (And yes, it was magical. And I was an elf.)



On Wednesday, everything was really getting into gear and things were ramping up. Several meals and snack tables were coordinated at once -- there was a fancy VIP reception, meals to set up for the crew, meals for the Bravo crew, and meals for people filming at the studio who had nothing to do with the finale at all.

It was a lot of pressure to be helping with the FOOD on this particular show... I pictured Anthony Bourdain arriving, and telling me "This coffee tastes like hot water with a brown crayon dipped in it!!" I would have wet myself on the spot. Luckily, I was more like the "lowest of the low," and there were some real chefs behind Top Chef.





Several VIP areas were ready, including the rooftop.



I had my misgivings about working around showbiz types, but for the most part, everyone was pretty cool and funny. The resident staff was really spectacular. (But of course, they are all midwesterners.) They all had much more patience with special requests than I did, and did their jobs with a lot of aplomb and tact (the last bit being the part that I could not do full time).

Right about the time they set up for filming on Wednesday, I got my first celeb sighting: there she was, Padma Lakshmi herself. I nearly poured hot coffee all over myself peering around a set piece at her. She seemed like a lovely person, full of mirth and a friendly attitude every time I saw her. And I think she's even prettier in person. A girl who was with me said, "I thought she'd be taller." I thought she was one of the tallest women I'd ever seen. She was what I would call "willowy." Every time she walked around a corner, or past the kitchen, everyone would rush to the doorway and stare until she was out of sight.



At first, she did some rehearsing with stand-ins.



The next time I had a chance to look? There they were. All of the judges: Tom Colicchio, Gail Simmons, and Ted Allen. Woo! I got chills watching from the catwalk. Even the appropriate music was playing. (If you watch the show, you know what I mean. It precedes them saying, "Please pack your knives and go.")



I stood and waited for Ted Allen to look up at me, and he did. I waved, and he waved back. Here is a transcript of the conversation we had:

Me: Love you!
Ted: Thanks! What are you doing up there?
Me: We're spying on everyone. It's like a fishtank.
Ted: Are you hiding from your boss?
Me: You've got my number, Ted!

And I didn't pee in my pants. Not even a little bit.

Other run-ins to note: I stood and watched all the cheftestants coming in and speaking to one another, and I had a WHOLE ELEVATOR RIDE with Gail Simmons. The other PA and I just stood there looking at one another with shit-eating grins on our faces while she spoke with her assistant.

One thing more to note... I had heard rumors that Padma and Tom C. might be dating. Well, I won't remark on that, because honestly, I don't know anything about that. But you might want to take a look at how closely they sit to one another. Ve-e-ery long sofa. Ve-e-ery close together. (I'm just noticing.)



I expect they are just very good friends. Cough.

I can also report that when I came in Thursday morning, the cast had all partied like the proverbial rock stars. I won't say who was reported to have knocked the most cocktails back, but their names both start with a "T." And I'll let you guess who cleaned it all up. Her name starts with a "G."



But I must say, nothing ilicit, illegal, or even a single cigarette butt. So who can blame them? It was the finale, after all.

And for my finale, the wonderful lady that runs craft services let my giddy coworker and I run some special veggie and fruit trays up to the finalists, who looked very tired and in need of refreshment.



When we went up, only Hung and Casey were in the waiting area. Here is a transcript of our conversation (the other PA was too timid to say anything, I think):

Me: Hello, chefs!
H & C: (trying to muster friendliness) Hello...
Me: How are you?
H & C: (Hung again struggling through what I imagine is jet-lag.) Gooood...
Me: You sound great!!
H & C: (Both laugh.)
Me: Do you guys need anything else? Besides a pizza? (the contestants had called up to the kitchen asking if we had any pizza, which I thought was funny)
H & C: (Both laugh again.)
Me: Okay then. Hey, do you guys mind if I get a picture with you? You're the whole reason I'm here today.
H & C: Are we really??
Me: Yeah! I'm really a dental hygienist!
H & C: Well, SURE!!

They were SO nice, both of them. I was prepared to stand there awkwardly, but they both immediately threw their arms over my shoulders like we were old friends, leaving me only to wish that I hadn't gotten myself so sweaty running up and down the stairs.



I was grinning long afterwards. Later, I wished I had ordered them all a Lou Malnati's pizza, had it delivered and signed the card... But there just wasn't time. I can't believe how much manpower, money, food and time it takes just to do what I think turned out to be about four minutes of live air time. On Thursday, they filmed the reunion show, which airs this week. On both days, I worked the day shift and didn't stay until evening for the actual taping. I was too exhausted!

Thanks Jeff... It was a great experience, and totally worth it. (But I think I will most definitely keep my day job. I get to sit down more...)

Bernie's Southern Bistro

On a lazy afternoon, Katie and I went for chow just down the street from her place. I'd seen Bernie's Southern Bistro on one of my walks about the neighborhood, and since she is pretty new to that area herself, she had never been there either, and it was a perfect spot for us to check out together.



It was another incredibly beautiful, sunny and mild Portland day, and we were excited to dine al fresco. Bernie's, as Katie noted, had made a what we thought was a fairly bold move: the dining room wasn't even open. It was as though Bernie's was telling you, "There is no excuse for you not to eat on our patio today." And they were right, in my opinion.



The patio had a modern, Asian aesthetic. It was simple and casual, like a friend's well-maintained front porch. (The one with the manicured plants, and the re-finished vintage furniture, not the one with the musty upholstered love seat.)



As it was close to dusk, we picked a spot out of the direct rays of the setting sun. Katie had told me that Portland service was notoriously slow, and at first, that appeared to be the case. Our hostess said, "and can I get you anything else?" and I said, "do you have iced tea?" mistaking her for our server. She said, "I'll get your server," but no one came for several minutes. I think we may have hidden ourselves a bit too well in the corner, but presently, we got a friendly waitress who didn't stay away after the first delay. I got sweetened tea, and it was lovely -- made with sugar syrup as is proper. Katie got a deliciously chilled martini that had grapefruit juice in it. I thought the little iced caddy that carried her refill was innovative.



Katie, in my opinion, did a great job channeling Coco Chanel while we enjoyed the sun.



We got complimentary cornbread and honey butter. The bread was light and soft with just a little grit, as Katie said she likes it. Was it as good as the ultimate cornbread? No, no, of course not. But it was very good.



All of the starters looked very tasty, but of course we had to try the fried green tomatoes. They came on a mayo-based sauce, nicely seasoned and piping hot. I wanted them to be just a bit more well-done, but they were very good. They were crispy, and the breading wasn't too thick. We even ate the garnish.



When dinner came, one of the entrées we had ordered had been substituted with the meatloaf (which did look really good). Our waitress swapped it out fairly quickly, apologizing, and told us she would give us any dessert we liked with her compliments, which I thought was very nice. She needn't have worried, since Katie and I were sharing, anyway, we simply started on our first entrée, the smoked brisket with blueberry BBQ sauce, and a cheese and whitebread casserole (not appearing on the Bernie's website menu at the moment). I have a blueberry BBQ sauce recipe I've been wanting to try for some time, and I love brisket like I love beer and discount clothing, so I had to try that. Katie suggested the fried chicken, and I told her she was my soulmate.



My pic doesn't do the brisket justice, but it was perfect. It melted in your mouth, had just a light smoke, and even the sides were great. The asparagus was cooked with just the right amount of snap, and that whitebread and cheese soufflé (or casserole) had that flavor like something you'd get in a real southern diner. I wanted to dive into a mound of it, suffer a cave-in, and eat my way out.

When the fried chicken arrived, I didn't think it looked like it would be crispy. Happily, I was very wrong. It was well-seasoned and crunchy all over. Jack Sprat (I mean Katie) had the piece of white meat, and I had the boneless piece of thigh. The mashed potatoes and gravy, and the smoky and just-the-right-amount-of-heat greens were heaven.



We were stuffed, but of course we accepted our free dessert. We settled on the bananas foster bread pudding. I'm sure it was better warm, but Katie and I plowed into it cold later that night, and it was still sinfully rich and delicious.



Bernie's was, to me, just how dining should be: unpretentious, authentic, al fresco on a perfect day, beautifully presented, moderately priced, and within strolling distance from your own home. Especially after enough martinis.

McMenamins Kennedy School

Okay, onto my recent trip to Portland!

My first night in town, Katie picked me up from the airport and the poor thing arrived half-starved and saying, "I'm glad to see you. Now I need meat." Katie is often right to the point like this when she is hungry. Once when she and I were roommates in Chicago, she and I dragged our hungover carcasses into the grocery store to find something to eat. As soon as we got inside, her eyes scanned the store and I thought I heard her mumbling, "I think I need... a chicken." I didn't think that could be what she said. She must have meant "a chicken sandwich," or something like that, right? Wrong. She arrived at the checkout, smiling, with a whole rotisserie chicken, which she happily ate in front of the TV with a can of Pepsi.

Katie took me to a place very close to where she lives in Portland. She kept saying, "Let's go to the Kennedy School." I assumed she must be talking about some culinary arts college that gave you fancy meals at a discount. Wrong again -- it is a sort of mall (I hate to use that term, but I mean the older definition meaning the type you can stroll around, not the type that has a Claire's Boutique) that used to be an elementary school (named Kennedy). McMenamin is the name of two brothers that love two things: beer, and old buildings. They have made over several historic buildings in other areas, as well, most of them now re-purposed as hotels.



The Kennedy School has a movie theatre, a soaking pool (I gotta see this next time I go), a restaurant/brewery, and regular musical events. There is artwork all over the place, but the original structure has been largely retained, so the fact that it is a school is nicely unobscured.



We went into the restaurant area, and looking out the windows, I could sense the spirits of several generations of woeful students, gazing longingly out the large windows from their desks. I couldn't help but feel a satisfaction on their behalf as I prepared to consume a beer from the very same spot. I took my first deep slug of the "Terminator Stout" thinking, Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!



I really like the stout. It was pretty smooth and mild. Katie got the "Ruby" brew, and I liked hers even better than mine. I usually steer clear of anything touted as "fruity and light" (certain close friends being the exception there), because I'm usually disappointed to find that what I've received is a pale ale with fruit syrup added (I'm looking at you, Ram Brewery). That wasn't the case here, however, as the Ruby was mild and sort of vaguely tangy.

A bacon burger was what Katie needed, and a bacon burger is what she got. She got it good, too.



(I apologize for the cellphone photography -- neither McMenamins nor Katie are actually green). I got the prime rib sandwich, which came with au jus. The meat was a very high quality, and had a delicate flavor that was pretty damned perfect. Even the roll was bakery fresh. I also got a side salad that was very good, but... who cares?



I could definitely have spent a lot more time at McMenamins Kennedy School, if it hadn't already been so late, and the prime rib sandwich and beer hadn't made me even more eager to sleep after my flight. But all in all, I'd say, McMenamins is not just another brick in the wall.

Camera Phone!

I sent my brother a text message today saying, "I got a picture phone!" along with a picture I snapped of the framed photo of he and I that is on my mantle. He immediately texted me back with an accompanying picture, saying,

"Yay! Check out these pancakes!"

Leftover Fried Chicken Salad

I had stored the leftover chicken limone and the sauce separately. Unfortunately, I made a lot more chicken than I did sauce. Or, not so unfortunately! I gave Chris the rest of the chicken and sauce, and made a really good salad out of what was left for myself.



My favorite salad dressing lately is just balsamic vinegar, olive oil, and a little brown or dijon mustard whisked together. I had some dried blueberries, some goat cheese, and some snow pea pods in there too, and squirted a little fresh lemon over the top.

Marshall Field's Chicken Salad

When I worked downtown, we often went over to the greatest salad bar in the world: in the basement of Marshall Field's. (Now that Field's has been purchased by Macy's, I dunno if it is still there or not. I'm not downtown anymore, either. Nice thing I ripped off their chicken salad while the getting was good). This salad is fantastic! Here are the ingredients as I approximated them:

~ 2 cups canned chicken, or fresh shredded chicken
~ ½ cup dried or fresh blueberries (blackberries work, too)
fresh chopped rosemary to taste, or ground dried rosemary
~ ½ cup gorgonzola or bleu cheese crumbles
~ ½ cup pounded or ground walnuts or pecans
lemon juice, 1 or 2 tablespoons
extra virgin olive oil
salt & pepper to taste

Drain or shred the chicken, and add as much of the other ingredients as you like. I don't often have fresh blueberries or rosemary, so I usually end up using dried blueberries from Costco and canned chicken (then this is a convenient "pantry" salad). I grind the dried rosemary in a coffee grinder that I use for spices, because the dried stuff tends to stick in your teeth. I add olive oil and mix until the salad is moist and hangs together (this can be up to ½ cup or so). The salad is rich and I usually have a scoop of it on a bed of mixed greens with a little dressing drizzled around the edges. I like Paul Newman's Raspberry and Walnut Light dressing.