One of the reasons I read cookbooks cover-to-cover is to get to know the chef by understanding their culinary point of view and their favorite ingredients. From each cookbook, I want to be inspired by the recipes and learn something new from the author/chef. I’m not usually impressed by the foreword in a cookbook, but this one, by Chef Bobby Flay, was like a window into the life of Jonathan Waxman. Chef Flay has a great deal of respect and admiration for Chef Waxman and I loved what he added to the cookbook.

I must admit I have a bit of a culinary crush on Jonathan Waxman. As a result of his cookbook, I’ve gained a deeper respect for simple ingredients and their combination. In the foreword, Chef Bobby Flay says of Chef Waxman, “He taught me how to dress a salad, respecting each tender green that landed on the plate. Jonathan used to say that the leaves should look like they had just fallen from the clouds, light and individual.”

On page 72, in the “Salad” section, you’ll find this note before recipe for Garden Salad:

There is inspiration in compliments. It used to bother me when people at dinner parties asked me to dress their salads. Why in the world would anybody want another cook messing up the works? Finally, when one friend told me his dressings always tasted greasy and flat, I started to analyze what made mine different. What was that inexplicable detail that could make all the difference? First, have good ingredients (that seems obvious), and second, always add the vinegar first. “That can’t be all there is to it,” my friend said. He was right – there is a more difficult matter: how much dressing to use.

I love this cookbook and learned quite a lot about food and flavor combinations…and Jonathan Waxman. For the most part, the ingredients in the recipes are simple and easy to find. I started to list the recipes I liked and then realized I pretty much liked them all. In the cookbook you’ll find chapters on starters, soups, salads, sandwiches and pizza, pasta, poultry, meat and game, fish, shellfish, vegetables, and desserts. And, edicts on selected ingredients and techniques.

First try the Guacamole and Fresh Chips on page 19. It’ll rock your world!

You know you’re headed in the right direction when a restaurant changes the menu on a daily, weekly, or seasonal basis. Their website is simple but the menu made me smile when I noticed the cheese course offered both goat and cow’s milk cheese.

I called and made reservations for four…forgetting to include myself. When we realized we’d be late, I called and changed the reservation by thirty minutes. It wasn’t until we were on the way to dinner that I remembered there were five of us. We called to change the number of diners and they had to bump us to a later time. That’s a good sign – it means other people like to eat there.  When we arrived we sat outside on the little benches and waited our turn. They graciously offered us water several times and never forgot we were out there. I’ve got big love for good customer service – and Piedmont delivered over, and over again.

The decor at Piedmont is simple, yet elegant. The tables are nicely spaced to give diners plenty of room for conversation and privacy. We didn’t meet the chef, but with a little research I was able to determine the chef/owner is Andy McGowan.

Once again, I find myself using the word “simple” to describe another aspect of Piedmont. The menu: Cheese course, 1st course, 2nd course, Etceteras, and Dessert. We asked our waiter to explain the menu rules, and he assured us we could order as much or as little as we wanted in no particular order. I love options.

From the cheese menu, we ordered all three cheese selections to share. The cheese came with almonds, figs poached in red wine, and a lovely raisin bread with a tight crumb. In addition, we ordered the housemade charcuterie selection to share: country pâté & chicken liver mousse with pickled vegetables, dijon & grilled bread. We darn near licked the plate.

For the main dish we divided and conquered. I went for the housemade Italian sausage with creamy polenta, braised greens & tomato jus. Laura and Jo both ordered giant-sized pork chops covered with lovely peaches (pictured at right). Jo’s Dad selected the chicken, and Chelsea went for a lovely salad with a side of pomme frîtes with aïoli.

If I lived anywhere near Durham, I would find my way to Piedmont as often as possible. You’ll find them at 410 Foster Street, just down the street from the Marriott hotel and Bull Durham stadium. They serve dinner Wednesday through Monday and brunch on Saturday and Sunday. Dress is casual. Check out the menu on the website and call Piedmont and make your reservation today at 919.683.1213 and tell them Lucy sent you.

While having lunch at my friend Mackenzie’s house, she handed me a copy of The Flavor Bible (Page, Karen & Dornenburg, Andrew. New York: Little, Brown and Co., 2008), a gift from her oh-so-clever husband. I flipped through the pages and noticed I was holding my breath. It was as if I’d found a secret map to carry on my culinary adventures. I waited a few weeks before purchasing my own copy because I’ve discovered that delayed gratification makes me appreciate things more. Needless to say, I love this book. It’s not a cookbook, and you won’t find recipes in the ordinary sense; however, you will find thousands of flavor combinations and an exciting, culinary resource.

There are three delicious chapters:

1. FLAVOR = Taste + Mouthfeel + Aroma + “The Factor”: Learning to recognize the language of food
2. GREAT COOKING = Maximizing Flavor + Pleasure by tapping Body + Heart + Mind + Spirit: Communicating via the language of food
3. FLAVOR MATCHMAKING: The Charts

By far, my favorite chapter is Flavor Matchmaking – chapter three. The book is 380 pages and 339 of those are in chapter three. I’ve haven’t had this much fun with reference material since the first time my Dad let me use his set of Encyclopedia Britannica. I loved those big, brown books. The giant-sized map book was my favorite. Alas, I digress. The charts in chapter three are listed in alphabetical order and include both ingredients and the flavors of a particular country or region. Below each ingredient, the authors “distilled and summarized key aspects of an ingredient’s essence” by: season, taste, weight, volume, and primary function. They also recommend cooking techniques and some useful tips.

Thank you, Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg, for a thorough and generous treasure chest. I really, really love this book and I’d like every cook to own one. However, I’m pretty sure many folks won’t recognize its beauty. Buy one for yourself and for that person in your life who appreciates flavor. You won’t regret it. And, thank you, Mackenzie. I owe you one.

I wasn’t raised in a traditional Greek family, with two Greek-speaking parents; nevertheless, my Mom and her family made it their quest to infuse us with a love for all things Greek. My Dad graciously allowed it to happen, although, over the years, he’s made every attempt to stick a Scottish label on us, but not much sticks to Greece (pun intended). Somehow, I managed to make it through thirty years of life before I realized my “Greek” family originated from Italians. So four generations ago, the grandparents of my grandparents left Italy and made their lives in Greece. And so, I willingly embrace all things Italian.

My Mom did a good job of incorporating American food in to our lives. I’m pretty sure she did it so my Dad wouldn’t starve. And though he loves her cooking, he doesn’t fully appreciate the more colorful aspects of Greek cuisine. Thankfully, I inherited my Mom’s palette and have no food fears. Well, except for lima beans, and badly cooked okra. Oh…and liver.

At an early age, I learned to eat first and then ask, “What is that?” When a plate was set in front of me, regardless of the smell, texture, or look of an item, I was required to take a bite. This small obedience was, as I look back over my life, one of the best gifts my Mom gave me. If not for that little rule, I would have missed out on so many wonderful and exciting flavors from many different cuisines.

When I was eighteen, my family, in different variations, spent the summer in Greece. We lived many days on the beaches of Glyfada, Tolo, and Vouliagmeni, only coming out of the sea for a few hours to eat a delicious lunch. We ate fresh fish, village salads, crispy potatoes, slabs of cheese, lemony horta, and loaves of fresh bread. With wet hair and wet bathing suits, sand between our toes, and sunburned skin, we took pleasure in eating the simple but scrumptious food. Bread was for dipping, lemons for squeezing, fingers for licking, and forks were, well, forks were optional.

The other night I saw an episode of FoodTV’s Chopped: When Chefs Collide (Episode 3.1). In the appetizer round, the chefs were tasked with creating an appetizer out of Manila clams, kumquats, and croissants. The Greek chef, Peter Giannakas, Chef and Restaurateur of Ovelia Psistaria Bar, New York, NY., was eliminated in the first round. He created a dish that, according to the judges, was difficult to eat. They also commented about the flavors of his dish; however, since they were too afraid to get their hands messy, I question whether or not they actually tasted the dish. As the chef was eliminated, he said to the judges, “Don’t be afraid to eat.” I laughed so hard I nearly cried. My Mom would be proud of him.

Thanks to her, and the generations of Greeks who came before me, I am not afraid to taste – even if it means getting messy or trying new flavor combinations. I believe my love for cooking is in the genes, seasoned by my Mom, and whipped in to shape by hours of practice. For that I am thankful and, Lord willing, I will have many more years to eat like a Greek.

This season Bravo TV premiered a new show, Top Chef Masters. There are many television food shows with "chefs" competing against each other: Bravo’s Top Chef, Fox’s Hell’s Kitchen, FoodTV’s The Next Food Network Star, Chopped, two versions of Iron Chef, Throwdown, and more.

I’ve learned quite a bit watching the chefs compete: timing, bravado, teamwork, back-biting, creativity, failure, skills, and great taste combinations. You take what you learn, duplicate the good and make every effort to avoid the bad.

And then along comes Top Chef Masters. It’s ALL good. What a refreshing difference. The competitors are all professional chefs with proven skills and over-the-top talent. It’s truly inspiring to see the good-fellowship, humbleness, deep respect, and courage they display for the competition and each other.

If you haven’t watched Bravo’s Top Chef Masters, you’re missing a great experience. The competition has just passed the first round of the final challenge, so you still have a chance to catch a few more shows. You’ll be glad you did.

While standing in front of a deli counter at the Granville Island Public Market in Vancouver, B.C., I fell in love with sopressata. The deli guy handed me a piece of the dark, red meat and the lively aroma reached my nose even at an arm’s length. It was thinly sliced and I couldn’t resist the desire to hold it up to the light to peer through it – a red and white stained glass window. The flavor exploded as it landed in my mouth: pork, garlic, red pepper flakes, and a crunch of peppercorn. I licked my fingers and ordered a pound. And there began my fascination with sopressata.

The dried, cured sausage is soft, not hard, somewhat like a pepperoni and often called a salami. In Rome, a cheerful, old butcher told me that in some parts of Italy it is known as a “poor man’s” salami – made from the leftover cuts of the pig. So far, my favorite “slice” came from a little storefront shop on Corso Italia street, in Piano di Sorrento, in the south of Italy. It just so happens that the best focaccia I’ve ever tasted came from the same shop. The memory of those flavors is still vivid.

Though I often recreate the meals I’ve eaten in restaurants, I’ve not yet had the courage to try my hand at curing, mostly because poisoning my friends and family with botulism is a very real possibility. On his blog, Notes from the Food World, Michael Ruhlman posted a recipe adapted from his book, Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing, for making sopressata. Ruhlman, a food god, is also the author of The French Laundry Cookbook, that I previously blogged about. Like a professional athlete, Ruhlman makes it look so easy. But I’m a smart girl and I know my limitations, so for now, until Ruhlman wants to invite me over to make it with him, I’ll stick to buying sopressata wherever I can find it.

The first time I cooked a turkey it was less than tasty. The breast meat was dry, the gravy was flavorless, and the little white pop-up thingy failed to work. Needless to say, I had to find a way to make it work and brining has served my turkeys well for the past ten years. I am a convert. The only thing I change is what goes in to the brining solution. This year, instead of making my own, I bought a lovely jar filled with herbs and aromatics and I added salt and sugar to the brining solution. And…I couldn’t do it without my trusty thermometer. Remember: thigh meat should reach 170F.

Sour Cream Yeast Rolls

My nephew, Eric, requests these rolls. They’re ridiculously easy to make and there is rarely any leftovers. So in the spirit of Thanksgiving…I’m sharing the recipe with you. I also call these “Naked Lady” rolls because men seem to love them. I’m just sayin’. I found this recipe in a cook book called Treasured Recipes: Food Editors’ Favorites. It was contributed by Betty Straughan of The News Review, Roseburg, OR.)

1 package (2.5 tsp) active dry yeast

1/4 cup warm water

2 cups sour cream

2 Tbl granulated sugar

1/4 tsp baking soda

5.5 cups Bisquick

1 Tbl fresh dill (minced

1/2 cups parmesan cheese (shredded)

Soften the yeast in water. Let stand while combining sour cream, sugar, and baking soda in a large bowl. Add 2 cups Bisquick, then yeast mixture. Mix well. Stir in 3 more cups Bisquick. Turn dough onto board dusted with 1/2 cup Bisquick. Knead to form a smooth ball.

Shape dough in to small rounds the size of a walnut. Place close together in a buttered 9×13x2-inch pan. Let rise until doubled in bulk. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and dill.

Preheat oven to 375F. Bake rolls 15 minutes, or until done.

Note: Rolls can be made ahead of time and frozen. When ready to serve, thaw rolls and reheat in oven at 200F.

I’ll admit it. I am a fan of most things Ramsey. But too many strange things happened in Hell’s Kitchen this year and it’s left me feeling cold.

If you dig cooking competitions on TV, you should watch Bravo’s Top Chef, where cooking skills are a necessity and it’s not about finding the best entertainer. The contestants’ cooking skills are tested under tough circumstances, and if they don’t know their food…well, their time on the show is short and they’re told to pack their knives and go home. The contestants are often thrown together to work in teams, and the trick is to be a team player and to capture the spotlight. Never underestimate the ego of a chef.

There are three other similar shows: The Next Iron Chef, The Next Food Network Star, and Hell’s Kitchen. Michael Symon was chosen from eight contestants to be the next Iron Chef and the challenges were brutal. It’s not a regular show on the FoodTV Network for good reason: only few hold the title of Iron Chef. The competition is fierce and the reward is culinary immortality. Okay, so that’s a little extreme, but you get my point. I was hoping Chef Symon would win for his mad skills, but I also think he’s kinda hot. And well, hot does count for something.

In the Next Food Network Star, not only are culinary skills challenged, but also teaching skills and stage presence. You must have that certain *something* that finds its way through the camera lens and out to the viewer. And the reward is your own show on the Food Network. You don’t get a restaurant, but you do rub shoulders with some of the best in the game.

And then there’s Hell’s Kitchen. And at the center of it all is the enigmatic Gordon Ramsey. There’s no doubt the man knows his way around the kitchen, but it’s difficult for anyone else to be in there with him. There’s only room for Ramsey’s ego. As difficult as it is to be around him, I’d work in his kitchen any day. He can yell at me for hours and in the end I’d walk away with culinary skills and restaurant knowledge to rival the best. So on the show you fill a kitchen with a bunch of colorful, over-eager wannabe restaurateurs battling against each other to be the senior chef at one of Ramsey’s new restaurants. And then, if that’s not enough, you toss in one giant cup of Ramsey and stir. The winner of each challenge is not always clear, and often, it simply comes down to the whim of Ramsey. Frustrating…but it is his show and his restaurant.

This seasons’ competitors were not fun to watch. Highly annoying is more like it. Their culinary skills were weak and they didn’t play well with others. I was waiting for a hero to emerge, but alas, there was none. If he wants us to watch next season, he’s gonna have to pick better contestants or the show will continue to lose credibility.

The January/February 2008 issue of Eat Magazine features an interview by Chris Mason Stearns (photograph by Tracey Kusiewicz) with Chef David Hawksworth. I was fortunate to eat Chef Hawksworth’s food in Vancouver, B.C., at West Restaurant on two occasions. Under his direction, West was awarded three consecutive wins as “Restaurant of the Year” by the Vancouver Magazine Restaurant Awards, a prestigious four star rating by Mobil Travel Guide, and recognition as one of the “ten of the best, worldwide” by UK’s Sunday Independent. In 2005, Chef Hawksworth won “Chef of the Year.”

When my friend Craig invited me to dinner at West in October of 2005, I knew it was because he liked the food and the restaurant, but I wasn’t prepared for the beauty of the food. My first taste of the Organic Squash and Parmesan Ravioli Sage with Toasted Almond Brown Butter was enough for me to know the meal would be fantastic and my mouth was in for a lovely adventure. Five months later, I visited West again, and the food was equally brilliant.

A few nights ago I started thinking about Chef Hawksworth’s food, so I went online to have a look at the menu. Maybe I could convince Craig to take a drive and visit the restaurant with me. Good thing I checked. It seems the good Chef left West early this year and is planning to open a new restaurant at the Hotel Georgia. From all that I read, he hasn’t yet named the restaurant, though rumors are that it will be called Hawksworth. He’s been working on a cookbook which I will gladly get my hands on.

Late Saturday afternoon, I picked up the phone to call Craig and found out he was in Vancouver and had plans to eat at West that evening. How freakish is that? I told him Hawksworth was gone and a new chef is in his place. He promised to let me know if West is still a great place to eat. In the meantime, I’m hoping for a seat at a table at Hawksworth’s new restaurant slated to open in early 2009.

One of my favorite cookbooks is Thomas Keller’s, The French Laundry Cookbook. Oh my! It’s a beautiful thing. I postponed the pleasure of buying it, for as long as possible, simply to appreciate it all the more when I got my hands on my very own copy. And, I was secretly hoping someone would buy it for me and give me the gift that keeps on giving. The recipes are challenging and cause me to expand the boundaries of my imagination. I’ve read it cover to cover *many* times and still haven’t gotten my fill. Not only is it a great cookbook, it’s also a great “coffee table” book filled with pages and pages of glorious looking food.

And while I’m on the topic of Thomas Keller, take a minute or thirty and view his interview with Charlie Rose on the Charlie Rose Show. I found out Mr. Keller had a role in the development of Ratatouille. A great little movie.

So when I stumbled upon Carol’s blog: French Laundry at Home a few months ago, I smiled for days and days and days. She’s working her way through the cookbook and telling her blog readers about her adventures. I enjoy her humor and her courage. Attempting the The French Laundry Cookbook is clearly not for the faint of heart.

Her April Fool’s posts were hilarious. Did I mention how funny she is? She first posted two disgusting recipes, which, by the way, appear in a cookbook on my shelf (embarrassing). Her second post didn’t fool me, simply because I’ve grown accustomed to her humor and I didn’t believe for an instant that Thomas Keller would discourage anyone from cooking. It’s just not in his DNA.

Thanks, Carol. For the adventure and the laughter.