Friday, March 3, 2017

Shallot Crunchies; fried, caramelized, and seasoned in Seattle.

"What am I doing?"
I have at least a dozen of half typed or fully finished posts from my time in Seattle, the most recent of which being a very long descriptive story of how to make "shallot crunchies."

I had turned the simplistic recipe of frying thinly sliced shallots in hot canola oil until just before golden brown delicious, then removing and placing them onto a landing pad of towels, spreading and salting quickly... into a four page long description. 

I have decided I should never write a cookbook. 
My terrible addiction to long descriptions and emotional observations wouldn't allow me to even reach a description on cooking a dish, let along an ingredient list. More than two pages of the original "shallot crunchies" story was an owed to my friends and co-workers, trying to fit an individual story, reference, thanks or admiration to them all was causing me to write a book, a task I although one day hope to conquer, but not now; nor in such a way.

I will however comment on the major metaphor that was the point of the original story. Making shallot crunchies requires few ingredients, little technique, but full attention to details and nuances. Some of the best chefs in my kitchen struggled with them at first, and even after mastering the task, fucked them up now and then; myself included. 

That eternal struggle is constant in the high volume kitchen. I find myself in a constant back and forth; part of me lives for it, the magic we work, our ability to multi-task, to put so much effort and perfection into something that is a mearly garnish, but also such a vital part of a composed dish. I also became burnt out on it, just as many of the batches of shallot crunchies I had foolishly forgotten. 

So here I am, after over two years in Seattle surviving my two first kitchen jobs (one of which I believe turned me from a cooking enthusiast to a line cook that could hold her own) heading back to my roots. I find myself reflecting on what how I've grown, and who I've become. 

I don't think I yet realize what I've learned as a young cook. My sous chef put it best saying, "I can almost guarantee... that the next time you sit down with a recipe, by yourself... and cook that shit... you will be impressed with how much you've grown as a cook." I know I haven't yet even grazed the surface, but I am sure I will surprise myself the way he says. 

So who have I become? That is a question is one I've been contemplating a lot already since I left the city. I've been traveling the country by truck with my parents, stopping at monuments and parks, eating shitty food, them gambling and me reading and sleeping. 

I have become fried, like the shallot. I've lost my ties to the real world, work being my only focus, my life slowly dissipating from me the way the moisture cooks out of the shallot. I've also become caramelized in the best of ways, pushed to my limits, slow and low; creating a chef who is not only sweet and savory, but powerful and confident. Lastly, I am seasoned, having to do endless tasks to perfection, while multitasking and fighting for space. I can now hold my own in a way I never thought I could. 

Luckily, I wasn't fried to the point of bitterness. I sadly left many 
co-workers whom I now consider mentors, friends, and family.

So thank you to the city and the people in it whom changed my life in such a wonderful way. I wish you nothing but the best in all your future endeavors; especially your shallot crunchy game.

Now I get to continue my journey, returning to friends and family whom supported my flee to Seattle years ago. I look forward to see how they have grown, and remind myself why I fell in love with food in the first place.

ah suh dudes.

love, AP

photo credits to my dear friend matt

Friday, September 9, 2016

chicken ponders crossing road; becomes chopped liver

As we grow and transform we make plans, changes, goals. We work towards these in hope of a better tomorrow. We reminisce on the days of old. It feels like a spin cycle that I can handle only because I have become familiar with these ever rotating mindsets.

Months ago I visited home (the Upper Peninsula of Michigan) and was therefore feeling nostalgic. I wrote most of this blog post months ago, but have now decided to finish it, enjoy.

I think of my old eating habits as a child and teen, and my progression once I left for college. I try to pin-point where I clung on to food and cooking- as if the moment were some sort of exact snapshot in time. That's probably the real answer though- there is no exact moment. I grew up raising animals and had a father who was an avid hunter. Meat and potatoes was a way of life. I loved chicken, it was my favorite food group. I also ate a lot of processed food. It was kind of a weird mix to grow up on, I wasn't eating gourmet or healthy in my younger years, yet there were those things I was privileged enough to experience. Fresh Blue Gill. Moose steaks. Mutton stew. Rabbit. Venison sausage. Beef from the farm down the road. Lamb chops from last years 4-H Project. Trout. Farm fresh eggs. Bear. I ate so much meat as a kid. I was surrounded by people who raised animals and small farms who sold you things from their freezer; as well as had a father and mother whom hunted, and a boyfriend at the time whom loved to fish. I always laugh at people who ask me if I have ever consumed any of the meat from animals I raised myself. Of course I have! I do admit, as a child eating your pet was hard for a while, but honestly I grew to wish I could raise all the meat I consume. It's one of the same reasons I cook. I want to know what I am putting in my body.

This brings us to Chicken Liver Pate.

At the time of my visit home, my mother owned seven chickens she raised from chicks. Three ended up being roosters who picked on the hens and each other. They had to go. My dad butchered them while I was home, and put them in the freezer. At the cookout we had that day before my flight back to Seattle, my mother made chicken liver pate, with the livers of the chickens murdered the day prior. Maybe that sounds graphic to you, but it sounds delicious to me. I eat a lot less meat now a days. I sometimes go weeks with out eating any at all besides tasting my ingredients on the line at work. I think my reasoning is mostly sustainability driven as well as some health concerns, but of course I think I'm just over meat because I used to consume so much. That day though, I ate half the bowl of chicken liver pate with zero qualms. The chickens lived a good happy life full of food, water, shelter and a very caring owner. They ran freely around the yard, they went on adventures in the forest, and took over my dad's wood room. They were big, beautiful, healthy, roosters whom sadly at this point of their life had no more purpose, so they had to go. Who knows what life any other chicken you eat at restaurant or by from a store has lived. I look at people whom eat meat so often and ask how they can do it without ever having stepped one foot on a farm. I know it's hard for some people to get to a farm, and I think that fact makes me more sad than anything.

As I look for where my passion for food comes from, for a reason behind my love for food, I realize I've been a chef for longer than I've known. I have been growing plants and animals since before I was in pre-school. Ingredients are the key in any recipe.
I'm in it for the ingredients.

Momma Barb's Chicken Liver Pate

no recipe. 
chicken livers(fresh); boiled, patted dry
grated onion
add mayo until smooth

So simple, so good. My sister and I stare each other down as we indulge. Neither of us want to share. I remember it was my sister's husband who really got me into raising chickens. One day he even had us over to butcher some. During this "not always so easy" task I heard my brother-in-law referring to the chickens as 'bastards'. My young self, not knowing any better, happily answered "Bastard chickens!" to my father when he asked what kind of chickens we were eating at the dinner table. My brother-in-law will never be able to escape this story.

As I've grown I have made plans and followed them, those plans have also fell through. I have made changes, some of which never really change. I have made goals, some achieved, some forever in the works. Regardless, my past still shapes me, makes me who I am, gives me a direction in my future. No matter where the future takes us, we must always look back and learn from the life we have already lived.

Friday, April 1, 2016

an age old trade

Copyright PAWS 2016 (
   There is a song by The Head and the Heart called Down in the Valley. The first line is, "I wish I was a slave to an age old trade, like riding around on rail cars and working long days." Sadly jobs that involve craft are fewer and fewer lately. I am not saying that any jobs are lesser- but there is something about doing and making with your hands that gives us a sense of accomplishment and pride.
Copyright PAWS 2016 (

   Humans have been primitively cooking for remarkable amount of time- some archaeologists have found burned plant and animals remains that show homo erectus had control of flames dating back over a million years ago- according to an article put out by the History Channel. I guess you could say cooking is an age old trade. I know for a fact that Chefs and Line Cooks work very long days,and I often wonder how some of my co-workers do it and have been in the business for so long. Heavy lifting, hot conditions, long days- all to provide you with a delicious meal.

   Cooking at home is also no small feat, and since the industrialization of food we have been doing it less and less. Now we have endless options of take out choices and miles of frozen food options we can stick in our microwave.
Copyright PAWS 2016 (

   So this is my dedication to those whom cook. From my cooking industry co-workers who seem super-human in what that do, to people like my roommate whom I am watching develop a new found love of food. As she eats healthier she is cooking more- she now even says she loves being in the kitchen. Her favorite part is that now she knows what's in all of her food- what a simple virtue that we too often overlook.

Copyright PAWS 2016 (
   I also recently had the pleasure of teaching a Vegan Cooking Class for Paws here in Seattle. I remember as I prepared for the class- I thought about interesting talking points relating to animals and food. As I taught the class I realized most of them there were just there to learn how to cook. I forget how foreign the process has become to some people. So also I dedicate this to my wonderful class and the people in the world whom are striving to learn. I encourage anyone who is comfortable in a kitchen to get others to join them. Host interactive dinner parties, have a friend over and show them how you make your favorite dish, or just get in the kitchen and just start experimenting. Cooking comes with practice- you only learn from mistakes. When I was a kid and my parents weren't home from work yet- I would pull random items out of the cupboard hoping to create something delicious- often only creating a mess I needed to clean up quick before Mom walked through the door. 15 years later I've gone from hiding my kitchen curiously from my mom to being privileged enough to have her attend my cooking class.

Copyright PAWS 2016 (
Copyright PAWS 2016 (

I'd like to thank PAWS for the opportunity and all the wonderful people who helped make it possible!

I encourage you to get your hands dirty and spend a few hours in your kitchen- good food takes love and time- and I promise the more you do it the more empowered you will come. Immerse yourself in a trade as old as they come and take back your kitchen. 

I leave you with one of the many wonderful quotes Samin Nosrat gives us from the Water Episode of Michael Pollan's Cooked Series on Netflix. 

"It's about getting to that place in your own mind 
where this becomes pleasure instead of drudgery." 

Copyright PAWS 2016 (

 Thank you to Katherine for the amazing photos- 

Friday, February 26, 2016

how do you know if someone hates vegans? don't worry, they'll tell you

vegan: defined as a person who does not eat or use animal products

When a food order comes into the kitchen that has a modification giving suspect to a customer whom may participate in a vegetarian or vegan diet- I guarantee you that at least one of the servers or cooks will have some sort of general negative opinion. Now of course I realize that not every restaurant, but I find it alarming how often this rogue dislike happens to complete strangers.

No, this isn't only a restaurant thing- that's just where I mainly witness it. I'm sure you can see it going out to eat, school cafeterias, work-spaces, at the dinner table- people are choosing to refrain from eating animal products or other combinations of meats- and those people get judged.

To keep it straight, it's not the judgement I'm concerned about, its the reasoning. The reasoning also relies on two sources as well. The vegan and the accused judge.

Why is it that someone chooses it to be vegan? To often do I hear that others say vegans just want to "save baby animals." A truly admirable cause, and although not a negative side of being vegan, is not the always core behind it all. Vegans choose to live animal-free because of various health, cultural, and environmental reasons. I can't sit here and explain how vital the food put in our bodies is to our health, how different cultural values that have been around for thousands of years, or what industrial farming is doing to our planet. You'll have to watch Food, Inc or Cowspiracy to gain some of that knowledge.

Which brings me to ask what is reasoning of the Judge? Do you have investment in the pork industry? Do you love burgers more than life itself. Enjoy the mistreatment of livestock? Do you think destroying our environment slowly is entertaining. Did a vegetable just really fuck you up as a kid? I don't mean to sound so crude- but I don' think any argument justifying why someone needs to eat meat could sound much more than absurd to me. I hope we are all aware how can agree on the numerous ways there are to get protein aside from eggs and meat. And although some may argue flavor and taste- I find that idea selfish and stubborn.

What makes you think that vegans can't make delicious food from animal free products just because you can't? What makes you think someone can't enjoy the taste of grilled tofu marinated in soy, or butternut squash soup? My opinion may be considered bias, but lately, as I cook  more and more- I grow to enjoy the complex flavors of produce and plants over predictable flavor of well cooked meat.

I also love meat. I grew up raising market animals, and have personally consumed beef, pork, lamb, rabbit, and chicken that I or a neighbor has raised; and also the occasional wild deer, turkey, squirrel, moose, elk and bear shot by my father. Me and meat go way back and I can promise you I will never quit meat.

my roots:  roasted carrots, potatoes, broccoli and
farm raised grass fed beef from a friend
 that has been marinated in soy,
garlic and olive oil and cooked med rare

fried tofu and veggie, green lentil curry
with coconut milk, chili flake and cilantro

*note: yes, that's greek yogurt-
easily interchanged for vegan yogurt (calm down)

I can also promise is that I will be aware of my meat consumption. I know I need to drastically limit my meat consumption in order to sustain a planet in which the human race can continue to survive. *Side Note: If you don't care about the future of our earth- fuck you. There is no reason to read my blog. I could scold you right now, but I'm sure you've already been told and are not listening because you are possibly a close-minded asshole.* When I do eat meat I try to choose local, small farm, humanely raised animals because it has a low effect on our world and because it has better flavor.

I don't understand why those who eat meat are not more thankful to vegans and vegetarians. The less meat others eat means you are able to continue to indulge in your favorite foods. Also, meat that is produced in smaller quantities may possibly not only be safer but that shit would probably taste better too!

This rant has probably gone on too long, but in closing I hope you can the irony of the terrible vegan joke I've heard all too often.

"How do you know if someone hates vegans? They'll tell you!"

So fucking funny.
One: I'm sure they told you because they have a different diet that you are being completely unaware of and two: You just also obnoxiously hinted to me you are not a vegan- ironic.

I hate to seem so sensitive to a subject, and to be so blunt, but I find it extremely pressing for us to take responsibility in our lives of food. So if you enjoy meat, please keep on keeping on, but be aware of it's environmental affects and how much you are consuming. The more you are aware, the more you begin to care. And when you run into someone with a different diet lifestyle- don't judge so quickly because they may be doing good- and they may believe that a lettuce and Oreo diet is the key to a happy lifestyle. None-the-less, keep your mind open and learn more about the shit you put in your mouth- and what how it's production effects this world.

If you have and questions on how to get more involved or learn more about your food- please feel free to contact me.

*****Vegan Cooking Class*****
I will be teaching a small vegan cooking class March 10th at 6:00pm at the Roosevelt Whole Foods in North Seattle! The program has been put on by the local PAWS and will focus on animal friendly diets! E-mail me with questions. 

Endure a few terrible jokes, learn some facts, and gain the skills to whip up some killer vegan dishes. 

Sunday, January 17, 2016

soup for the soul; bouncing back

   I have a weird relationship with soup. I'd hate it- then love it. The thought of it made me sick one moment, and I was ladling the tomato bisque from the Irish tavern I worked at into a bowl the next. 
   Soup is about timing- you want it when you want comfort. 
   Physical symptoms for wanting soup for comfort include the following: sickness, chills, dampness and dehydration. My want for soup this weekend came from physiological symptoms. 

   I'd hope to make this blog a weekly owed to myself to be participating in something active and creative. I need to get my thoughts down in one way or another in order to grow and reflect, correct? I sadly have been missing my mark and haven't posted since Christmas. In the past month I've started a new job - which has challenged and pushed me, as well as brought on anxiety and terror. The kitchen isn't for the weak of heart - and I'm not saying I am strong, I'm saying I am constantly feel like I'm hanging on the edge in the most fantastic way possible. I am inspired to cook again. 
   Winter here in Seattle has been gloomy, wet, cold, reflective, humbling, and insulting. While there has been so many wonderful exchanges or times, I find that on a personal level I haven't been fully fulfilled. I suspect it's my own fault for losing motivation - or maybe taking vitamin D is more vital than I thought. Whatever the reason - a slump was reached and a new year, attitude, job, and outlook were prescribed. I still needed comfort though. Finally I reached some time off with no real plans and I set out on my quest for comfort. Welcome to Soup City, USA; population, me. 

snack/brain power

veggie stock; check.

spicy lentil & carrot soup; check. 

sweet butternut squash soup; check.

final: mixed them & served with a touch of sour cream,
 toasted asiago bread, fugi apple slices

Friday, December 25, 2015

family meal for all

   During the holidays we all have our own traditions. One common factor is our traditions in food... the family meal, and coincidentally enough this term also describes the meal shared by those in the service industry. No family meal is ever the same. In restaurants it may be a meal planned before service as you discuss the evenings menu and service notes, it may be cooked by the chef or the dishwasher, and in rare occasions the service staff. Sometimes it's gourmet, sometimes it's unrecognizable, but not matter what it is appreciated. Same goes for family meals at home. Sometimes the people around the table are related, other times your family is friends; sometimes you sit around the TV watching the big game and other times you set out the very best china. Maybe your mom spent the last few days getting it all ready, or you just popped pizza's in the oven and gorged on cookies. May it be in at a restaurant or at home- the family meal is important- it is a time to bond, reflect, and show thanks. 

   So I decided to ask some wonderful individuals a very important question: 
What does family meal mean to you?

Besides some very memorable and the literal meals with my family, the most impressionable family meal I had at a restaurant was at Rover's when I had my first restaurant stage. There was family meal at the beginning of our shift with some pretty exceptional food, and I'll never forget the communal feel of gathering around with a team. After I started working at a few restaurants this tradition seemed to died out (RIP) and it seems that every time I start a new gig the restaurant had just "changed their policy" about family meal.  
name: Sophia
home: WA

Family meal means, laughter, loudness 
and inappropriate dinner conversations. ❤️❤
name: Jordan
home: MI

To me family meal is about no stress, yet often times uncomfortably resourceful cooking.  Its a time when you get to bring your own culture, your own style and your own twist on the things you as a cook love to make the most.  Its all about feeding the people you see the most, nourishing them, and hopefully bonding a bit more with each meal!
name: Chris
home: NH, now WA

Family meals, holiday family meals in particular, to me are a special time because another year has gone by and I have a ton of people in my life I'm thankful for. It also represents tradition and it's comforting to go back home, have mom or grandma cook a great meal and play cards around the fire all night. There's always a bit of nostalgia around the holidays and the meal is always the center of that.
name: Melissa
home: MI

To me, when I think of family meal, I always think back to my days working in a 350 seat restaurant in Manhattan where we were actually scheduled an extra thirty minutes in the beginning of our shift to come in and enjoy staff meal together, as a family. There were usually thirteen servers on every shift, so we would all sit down together including a lot of the back of house and the few floor managers that were also on. There was a lot of laughter, as well as some venting and relieving of anxieties on each other. 
name: Jessica
home: NY, now WA

My memories of food for the holidays are raw beef sandwiches and pickled herring in wine sauce. It was tradition in our family, as well as an acquired taste. At Christmas Mimmi put out her wooden nut bowl w/ nut crackers filled with walnuts , hazelnuts and salted peanuts on her kitchen table- you knew it was Christmas when it appeared... it was tradition. 
name: Barb aka my Mom
home: WI, now MI


   Family meal has always been so important to me. Growing up working in restaurants and often having to work holidays, I have had many of my holiday meals with my restaurant family while at work. I also have been blessed enough to have a family at home who would always reschedule their meal around me. Family meal to me is being surrounded by the people I love and cherish - my friends, my co-workers, and my relatives.
   So during this holiday cherish your family meals, live out old traditions, create new ones, and most of all reflect on how thankful you are for the people around you. Also, be thankful for the meal itself. We must remember how lucky we are to be able to celebrate with gluttony as many people in the world are unable to have the same privileges of us. May we think of new traditions where we can share our wealth with those in need, because we are all human beings and in my eyes that makes us all family. 

Happy Holidays

Thursday, December 3, 2015

take the damn compliment [and cheers the criticism] success & failure

Today a quote...

     "To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

failure: my last blog post- it felt weird when I wrote it, and then Thanksgiving rolled around and I didn't even fucking participate. I would like to blame the tryptophan- but I must accept fault.

success: fame- not on TV or anything yet, but today I was oddly inspired in a coincidental way. In our weekly work schedule e-mail, my manager featured some of our employees other creative life endeavors. My stomach dropped when I saw my name, followed by the blog name, linked (like its blue, and you click it, and bam you'r there) to the blog itself. Then when I get home I go through shock again when I see my mom put the blog web address in our annual family Christmas letter. I had no clue my mom could work the internet let alone has possibly read my blog?! I know I should be more excited about the recognition, but when I type I do so with very few limitations- so it's human to be afraid of what others may think as I wear my thoughts and passions on my sleeve. But after all that settled, I found it to be just the motivation I needed. 

     So this is my thanksgiving day redemption post- I just want to thank the people in my life that inspire me. Who give me the positives to keep me going and the criticism to keep me humble. I believe I truly have the ability to achieve any dream I put my mind to, but only because of the wonderful individuals whom have made their way into my life. Friends, teachers, professors, managers, co-workers, customers, strangers, roommates, fellow pilgrims, family, brother, sister, dad, mom. Thank you all for all you do, all you sacrifice to make my dreams possible.