Playing with Oil in the Kitchen
Shallot infused olio, perilla oil, and roasted tomatoes in EVOO
Angelenos! Meet me at The Bob Baker Marionette Theater in Highland Park this Sunday to celebrate the lighting of our new marquee, made with real old school neon. Please register. There will be activities and puppets for all to enjoy.
Later this week I’ll share a recipe for a lazy clam toast, inspired by my favorite dish at Hart’s in NYC. Theirs relies on fresh clams, but mine? TINNED CLAMS of the highest order, from my friends at Siesta Co. I simmer them in a white wine and garlic broth and spoon them over crusty, pan-fried sourdough. In an unofficial, heavily biased comparison of mine against theirs, only the shells were missing. This impressive app takes all of five minutes to toss together. More on that in a couple of days for paid subscribers.
Now, on to what to consume right now, from facials to painting, to sweet, sweet, shallot oil.
COOK
This week’s “cook” recommendations are all about oil. I lean heavily on fat as a vehicle for flavor, and as a counterweight to the bracing acidity in my cooking. Just this week, I preserved five pounds of cherry tomatoes for the winter by submerging them in olive oil with some garlic, sugar, salt, and chili pepper. I slow roasted them in the oven overnight at 200 degrees. The tomatoes are a true pleasure, nearly candied, but I’m in it for the oil, the matrix for deep flavors to bloom. I am spreading the oil on toast, whisking it into salad dressings, and tossing it with potatoes before roasting.
Olive oil can be tricky because it has a relatively low smoke point -- around 350°F to 410°F. Heat it up further and its free-floating fatty acids release harmful compounds into your food, turning acrid. (I love the SIMPLi Extra Virgin Olive Oil blended with high oleic sunflower oil for this reason. The inclusion of sunflower oil raises the smoke point, but you still get olio flava’). By hovering just below smoke point, you can use olive oil to shallow fry herbs like sage and curry leaves, and also alliums, like sliced shallot.
Fried shallot is a wicked way to upgrade any blah dish, from plain rice to a simple tomato salad, but the residual fry oil is the true unsung treat. The oil takes on all that sweet, caramelized flavor, a sweet memory long after the crispy bits are gone. Strain the oil through a fine mesh sieve and use it to finish soup, for scrambled eggs, or sautéing veg.
The second oily topic I wanted to slide into is a staple in Korean cooking: perilla oil. Perilla, called shiso in Japan, is in the mint family, despite its anise undertones. Perilla oil is simply pressed from the seeds of the perilla plant. It’s rich in omega-3 fatty acids, and Koreans use it more for finishing and a component to sauces than as a cooking oil.
What amazes me is how different perilla oil tastes from the fresh leaves you will recognize as the garish for sashimi (am I the only person who actually eats that single, decorative leaf?). The flavor of the oil is toasted sesame-adjacent, but allergen free, so tell all your friends with seed allergies that they can get a whiff of that roasted flavor without peril. It’s beautiful with cucumbers and a splash of rice wine vinegar, or drizzled over fish and rice. Look for perilla oil at any Asian grocer.
SEE
This weekend I saw the Firelei Báez show at Hauser & Wirth and was reminded of the impact great painting can have. Standing in the main gallery with my five year old, Red, we were encircled by large scale chimeras in a perpetual act of becoming, bodies that transmogrify from human to flora, or was it the other way around? The mythical figures reminded me of Red’s vision for Halloween — last year, she was a “Mer-Cat,” this year we are working on a “Hummingbird meets ballerina/fairy.” But unlike my child’s unfettered fantasies, the Dominican painter’s iconography remains tethered to a backdrop of Colonial rule, surfaced in the Eurocentric maps that underpin each composition.
EAT
After seeing the exhibition, Red insisted we eat octopus for lunch. Too charming a demand to rebuff, I drove south to Holbox, the counter service, Michelin starred restaurant in the Mercado La Paloma. I’ve been eating there forever, but never before have I witnessed lines that coiled around the block. Red was brought to tears at the suggestion that we would have to eat elsewhere, taunted by charred octopus just out of reach (relatable). Thinking fast, as one does with a hungry toddler, I spotted a new kiosk just across the aisle called Komal. The quesadilla in my peripheral vision showed promise. We pivoted from dreams of chocolate clams and cephalopods, to a vegetarian meal that showcased house-nixtamalized corn. The quesadilla with squash blossoms and queso Oaxaca had fresh corn kernels tucked inside, and the refried bean tlacoyos were off-set by a citrusy nopal salad. It was simple in the way the best Mexican food is, IMO, and they even sell masa to go, always a treat.
FACE
In general, I am predisposed a low-fi remedy -- yogurt face wash, baking soda sitz bath for a yeast infection, apple cider vinegar for everything. When it comes to facials, I really don’t feel compelled to pay someone to put masks and creams on my face and ceremoniously wipe them off. Looking for more, I was intrigued by a concept called Formula Fig, offering “high tech” facials that are quick and efficient -- 30 minutes to glowing skin. If it’s instant gratification you're looking for, book a session that includes micro-current extractions and nano needling. The best part for Angelenos is that the WeHo location is in the same zone as Jeffrey Deitch, Regen Projects, and Steve Turner Gallery, so you can make a really nice afternoon out of it, taking care of your mind and your skin in one trip.