Those are John’s hands on the mandoline in the picture above with the rainbow radishes. John is 15. John has floppy, curly dark hair and a warm smile. John is 15. John has done four (I think it’s four, though it may be more... I had a few glasses of rosé) different stages at amazing restaurants in both New York and Los Angeles. Did I mention that John is 15? John was a volunteer helper on Sunday for “L.A. Loves Alex’s Lemonade Stand”, a beautifully done food event benefiting childhood cancer. John is 15 and he is going to be a great chef. Hell, he’s already a whole hell of a lot more effective passing out food stuffs and assembling a salad plate at an event than I am. But whatever. John is 15.

John was in charge of slicing the radishes because Chef Kenobi thought a 15 year old could and would do a better job of keeping their digits in tact than I would, which is, actually, all too true. I would like to see my hands continue to be full of fingers, tips and all. But just a shout out to John, my new favorite up and coming chef, I loved working next to you on Sunday and I cannot wait to eat in your restaurant in a few years.

Before I had the pleasure of meeting John, Sunday started like any other Sunday for me as I picked up Chef Kenobi and his adorbs sous chef, I’ll call him Bar-Bearded, and we headed off to Culver Studios. OK, It wasn’t like any other Sunday at all except that there was food. And people. And booze... all to benefit a cure for childhood cancer, which is something I think we can all get behind. Before I forget, please go to Alex’s Lemonade Stand and donate your time, your money or get your kids’ schools involved, please do something. This organization is AMAZING. And Alex’s story is heartbreaking and inspiring.

On Saturday Chef Kenobi, Bar-Bearded and I had hit the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market and loaded up on gorgeous Japanese eggplant, herbs, heirloom peppers and micro greens (actually, I just acted as a curious sherpa, asking all sorts of inane questions while lugging economy portions or marjoram from tent to tent). The menu for Sunday: grand aioli, beautiful fresh, local produce, herbed micro green salad seasoned with olive oil, lemon and salt and lightly fried eggplant and baby potatoes.

PostedNovember 8, 2010

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriessalad, gear and miscellany, vegetarian

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It’s not every day that you walk by François Mitterand on the road to Paciano. Unless, of course, your friend, the Bossy Blonde, has decided that the flattened frog on your morning walk should have a name and that it should be of a dead French man, and that she only knows of one. I am totally in favor of this. I am decidedly all for the anthropomorphizing of any and everything (I have named all of the cars I’ve ever owned, obnoxiously enough) and why not memorialize the man whose last meal was a tribute to the particularly cruel, yet delicious, cuisine of his homeland (the outlawed eating of ortolan, anyone) by naming roadkill after him?

Anyway, after two full weeks of the daily sighting of Monsieur Mitterand in all his squashed glory, he was absent today, no longer a mile marker for my morning routine, having most likely been washed away in the torrential, unseasonable downpour we had in Umbria on Saturday. A storm that started just as our poor, mistreated and overworked Fiat gasped back into town after a ridiculous “little drive” that should have taken 45 minutes.

We had set out to go to a cheese factory outside of Todi with the idea to then carry on to Orvieto for some lunch and bubbles, but it quickly devolved from a great plan into a two and a half hour carnival ride on roads that Bossy later described as like “driving on radiatore, radiator shaped pasta” through the insane mountainous landscape. It was BRUTAL, and only salvageable as a day because there was CHEESE (my favorite being the black truffle pecorino) at the finish line at Caseificio Montecristo.

Despite all my good intentions to zuppapoloooza! as soon as I hit terra firma here in Italy, there sadly was no zuppa in the ‘polooza of this Sunday. Instead there was a road trip to a famous macelleria, an Italian butcher shop. Destination: M with a capital E - A - T. This is no ordinary butcher shop, oh no, this is a full five course meat tasting-- yes MEAT TASTING-- at the butcher’s restaurant across the street from the macelleria. Who could say no to that?

Dario Cecchini and his beautiful shop in Panzano, Chianti, Antica Macelleria Cecchini, were made even more famous in Bill Buford’s 2006 book Heat, becoming arguably the most celebrated butchery in Italy-- if not to Italians, then certainly to Americans. I knew about Dario (I call him Dario because we’re that close despite us not actually knowing each other or sharing a common language in which to communicate) because I read Buford’s book; unfortunately I never got to the part that related to Dario because I was kind of irritated with Bill Buford as soon as he stopped talking about Mario Batali and started talking about Bill Buford. He’s about as fun as searing your hands while preparing short ribs in a blazing kitchen. Instead of being a wild boar, which I love and have not stopped eating as a ragu since I got here (cinghiale!), he’s simply a bore which is simply intolerable.

So we set out on our quest for carne...

herbed salad of local greens with aioli and fried eggplant and fingerling potatoes: LA Loves Alex's Lemonade Stand and I do, too

cannellini soup: A road to Rome isn’t necessarily the road to Rome

the long and winding road to meat: two blondes, two and half hours and too much to eat

Why? Because soup is cheap, delicious and easy. Kind of like me.

a weekly attempt to eat well and to savor life. or to see how much food I can get on my clothes.