FOOD FOR THOUGHT: WHY WE REGISTER

I don’t have enough hobbies.

Following the mantra of “grassroots organizing,” I set up shop at 3 different sites to hunt for new voters: Homeboy Industries on Friday, the Westside Costco on Saturdays and St. Augustine’s Catholic Church on Sundays.

I don’t need volunteers, infrastructure or permission as long as I’m on the public sidewalk. With one rickety TV tray, a folding chair, two clipboards with forms I pick up at the post office, and some hand outs I made which compare Obama vs. McCain views on major issues – I’m in business. In a few hours I get anything from 5-25 people to stop by. Most are re-registering because they’ve moved. The rest are voting for the first time in their lives.

Yes, I’m a Obama supporter but I choose to make mine a non-partisan table. Because of this I’ve registered Republicans, Independents, Libertarians and many Decline to State. If they ask I give them the Obama pitch. But first I want to them register as they see fit. The next month will be a wild ride. Some will change their minds every day up until November 4th. That’s the beauty of democracy.

An old Balkan immigrant (who is not a citizen) asked me what I got paid for doing this. When I told him nothing, he laughed, patted my shoulder and walked off. I have wondered why I do it, especially after the rare crank mouths off to me against Obama, or declares that it’s useless to vote, why should I register? I’ve figured out my answer after this weekend: I do it because people have a story to tell that they will only share at this moment. They’re angry, scared, hopeful, resigned, inspired, baffled, but engaged in a conversation about a government that they thought they had no part in. They share bits of their story with me as they sign that registration form.

I’m a sucker for good stories and this week I heard from:

• a Mexican immigrant who just took the oath as a citizen but has been working so hard he didn’t have time to register

• an Iraq War vet who was homeless but now has a residence

• an old couple in their 80s who moved from their home to an assisted living facility but couldn’t remember the address

• an ex-gangbanger who said he can’t read or write but really wants to vote

• a lovey-dovey young couple who filled out the forms as if they were filing a marriage license

• a parolee who couldn’t register but asked to keep a form so he could fill it out as soon as he was eligible

• a woman who filled out the info for her husband and made him sign right there because she said he procrastinates.

Folks, this is the best show and only I get to watch it. It’s frustrating and folksy. Some people just want to vent but not vote. Still, I get many thanks, thumbs up and even handshakes. One guy I signed up on his way into Costco brought me a soda and hotdog on the way back to his car. He thought I might be hungry. I was.

You have until October 20th to register to vote on November 4th. If you can’t find a table like mine on the sidewalk, you can get a voter registration form at your local post office to fill out and mail. Or you can now register online (in California) at:

http://www.sos.ca.gov/elections/elections_vr.htm

If you don't receive materials within two weeks contact (in Los Angeles):

Dean Logan, Registrar - Recorder/LA County Clerk
(562) 466-1310 Phone
(800) 815-2666 (LA County Only)
E-Mail: voterinfo@rrcc.co.la.ca.us

This election is probably the most important in decades. If you don’t want to vote for either Presidential candidate, still register and vote in the state and local elections.

Not voting is still voting for the status quo. And you lose.

CUCINA POVERA

In studying the world cuisines, I’ve learned that most cultures have 2 cuisines: 1/ food of the rich classes and 2/ food of the poorer or peasant classes. The Italians call the latter “cucina povera” – a kind of cooking that consists of very few basic ingredients and was rarely written down in recipe books since most peasants couldn’t read or write. These were the same people who grew and harvested the food for nobles and the rich. They cooked elaborate dishes in wealthy kitchens, even though they themselves could not partake of this food.

Ironically, cucina povera often turned out to be the healthier diet and was passed up the social line as servants shared their humble meals with the master’s children. The children came to regard this as every day comfort food. In the Americas, we inherited the tradition. Think of red rice and beans dished out in the best New Orleans restaurants, grits, collard greens, refried beans on bread, potato soup, pasta fagioli, egg flower soup. The food of former slaves, famished immigrants and struggling sharecroppers is part of our national identity now.

The rich dishes of the upper crust gave them kidney stones and gout and sent them to “take the cure” in Bath, Baden Baden or Aix les Bains. Manuel labor kept any excess in the poor man’s diet in check. There was rarely any excess.

As a writer, my social class rises and falls constantly. My regular diet has stayed at the “povera” level now out of choice. It controls my weight and budget. The biggest surprise is that I don’t feel that this food is “poor” anymore. It turns out to be actually very healthy and I regularly crave some of these “poor” dishes.

My weekly habit now is to boil chicken thighs, backs, legs, wings. I strain and skim the broth and freeze it in quart containers. The meat goes into salads, sandwiches, noodles. One of my favorite quick lunches is a piece of boiled chicken, salted and peppered (skin and all) with a tomato or green salad. One quart of the broth is used in a weekly soup I make which is the staple of my diet – Sorrel Soup. I learned the recipe as a poor, broke student in Paris. Some version of it is on the menu of many restaurants as well as on many working wives’ dinner tables in France.

Sorrel is a hard herb to find since Americans aren’t used to its tart flavor. I grow mine in a pot outside my back door. You’ll find many bourgeois apartments in Paris with a sorrel plant in a pot on their balconies.

This is the quickest way I know to make this soup. I even cheat -- using dehydrated mashed potatoes. No lumpy potatoes here.


SORREL SOUP
1 medium onion, small dice
1 cup sorrel leaves (remove the hard stem)
2 cups chicken broth
4 cups mashed potatoes
1/2 cup milk or half-and-half
2 tbls butter
salt and pepper to taste
a dash of sugar or sweetener
2 tbls chopped parsley or chives

Sweat the onion. Add the sorrel leaves until they “melt”. Pour in one cup of chicken broth. Stir. Add mashed potatoes. Stir again, adding enough of the remaining chicken broth to make a medium thick soup. Puree with an immersion blender until it is smooth and velvety like a blended pea soup. Add a touch more of milk or broth if soup is too thick. Return to heat and add butter, stirring until it melts evenly. Season to taste.

If your sorrel leaves are especially tart, you may want to add a tiny bit of sweetener.

If you don’t mind the extra calories, garnish the soup with a little sour cream or crème fraiche and toasted nuts.

I eat this soup at least twice a week.

No Executive Left Behind

Dear Reader:

Today I post food for thought. Something to chew on. Maybe something to laugh at -- if it weren't so appalling.

We've got a presidential mandate to shove kids into rigid programs designed to goose test scores up a few points. Then they get an email account and jump onto web. Sure, they'll read plenty betwen URL addresses, IMs and tons of posts in chat rooms and Myspace pages.

But will they be able to write a business letter? A term paper? How about an apology?

Below is my recent communication from the head of a movie studio in my neighborhood.

I can't decide whether to thank him or correct his grammar and spelling and send the message back.

Maybe it's just a joke. You must see it to believe it. (Names have been changed to protect the embarrassed.)

MER


In a message dated 7/3/08 9:35:41 AM, jxxx_cxxx@thecxxxxsxxxxs.com writes:


Dear Ms. Rodriguez:
 
I apologies for any incontinence that you, your family and your neighbors incurred last week. I can give no explanation as to why when you called the main number the guards did not call you back or have me or one of my staff call you back for that as President of the Culver Studios  I take full responsibility and apologies to you for the inexcusable behavior .  The Guards will fully informed of what was going on and to notify me or the construction company supervisor  to any and all problems that occurred over the weekend which they did not do. I have put in place a policy do deal with this in the future should a situation like this happen again .The person that called your neighbor was Rxx Vxxxx who is  the head of Client Relations not Community Relations.
 
The situation that occurred last Friday and Saturday had to do with a 10” Fire Sprinkler Water Mail that broke. The replacement and repair of that line had to be done in a expedited manner at great cost to the studio for Fire and Life Safety reasons not for our connivance or that of our tenants this was a major inconvenience for our tenants who changed their schedule around so that this work could be done.  We believe this water main break to be a result of the inconstant water pressure from Metropolitan Water and Golden State Water company  that supply us water over the past few weeks. We have experience fluctuation  in the water pressure coming into the studio which has taxed our system.  The Work was partially completed on Sunday with the Fire Department making their inspection however work shall continue today with the jack hammering to complete the work and sometime next week with the reinstallation of the storm swear line in the rear ally behind stage 2 and then the repaving of the area sometime shortly after that. No work will be occurring this weekend .
 
Should you have any questions please feel free to contact me. And Once again I am personally sorry for any incontinence that this may have caused you and your family and neighbors.
 
Jxxxx
 
Jxxxx  C. Cxxxx
President & Chief Executive Officer
The Cxxxx Studios
9336 Wxxxx Wxxxx Boulevard
Culver City, CA  90232
Ph:  (310) xxx-xxxxx
Fax:  (310) 202-3336
Email:  james_cella@theculverstudios.com
 
From: Madriguez@aol.com [mailto:Madriguez@aol.com]
Sent: Thursday, July 03, 2008 1:40 AM
To: james_cella@theculverstudios.com
Subject: Culver Studios and our Neighborhood

 
Dear Mr. Cella:

I am a resident of Van Buren Place who was also disturbed by the loud jackhammering noise the early mornings of Friday, June 27th and Saturday,  June 28th.  Like several of my neighbors, I called the general studio number to complain.  A baffled guard said he would look into it and call me back.  The noise continued.  I received no call.  I then dialed the Culver City Police to protest this disturbance of the peace.

Today (7/2/08) one of my neighbors finally received a response from your studio's VP of Community Relations.  He apologized and explained the urgent repairs to a water main for a sprinkler system.  He said the work would continue next Monday through Friday.

Sorry, but this perfunctory explanation 4 days late is just bad business.  Waking up a residential neighborhood at 6:30AM on a Friday and then doing it again on a Saturday at 8AM with no warning and no mechanism for your own staff to inform callers is simply patronizing and arrogant.   Delegating the matter to Community Relations after the fact almost makes a mockery of the department.   What kind of relations with the community do you expect with this kind of service?

Productions based on your studio have strict rules to follow when shooting on location on our streets.  They start with notifying residents in a timely manner before the disruption begins.   You may not be required to follow these location rules on the studio lot but we residents are not required to tolerate unreasonable noise at your convenience. 

We expect Culver Studios to be a considerate neighbor in this community.   We have accomodated a lot of construction on your lot the past couple of years.  Last week's disturbance was beyond acceptable.   I hope you have instituted measures to prevent it again.

Thank you for your time. 

Maria Elena Rodriguez

Father's Day

One of the few food memories I have of my dad is his trying to make the perfect fried egg. He had supposedly been a cook at the start of WWII. But military mess food then was powdered eggs, ersatz coffee, canned and mystery C-rations covered in “chocolate.”

My sister and I were 7 and 5 respectively when he decided to show us he could cook breakfast in our newly renovated “modern” (for 1962) kitchen. He braved the spattering bacon and fired up a separate frying pan for the eggs. He put a pat of butter in to melt and was explaining about the difference between fried, sunnyside up and easy over, boiled, poached and scrambled eggs.

Any line or short order cook will tell you that working the breakfast rush is a particularly miserable gig because every egg order is a “custom” order. Every diner has a personal relationship with his eggs, given his childhood experience. “Scrambled” can mean “scrambled wet” or “ scrambled dry.” “Lightly beaten” can mean where threads of the whites show in the yellow. “Sunnyside up” might mean with a set, cooked skin on top gained by putting the pan in a broiler or salamander for the last 5 seconds. But “easy over” always means: “no popping the yolk.”

I stood on a chair and watched our dad demonstrate the proper way to turn over a fried egg in the hot pan. His first attempt broke the yolk immediately. Daddy put that popped egg on a side plate and instantly reached for another. That sizzled up nicely and he turned it at the right moment…but pop it went, too. He scraped it off into the side plate. He let us have sips of his coffee. He told my sister to drain the bacon on paper towels. Then he wiped out his pan, figuring something was making the egg stick to it. Then he cracked a new egg started again. And again. And again.

When it was all over, he had gone through the entire carton, and scored only two eggs easy over with yolks in tact. My sister and I had eaten up all the bacon. We had a nice caffeine buzz too. The side plate was overflowing with sloppy, popped-yolk fried eggs.

Our mom screamed at Daddy when she saw this. In our family nobody wasted food. Especially not when trying to show off in front of the kids. The popped eggs looked kind of gross but Mom said we were going to have to eat them all anyway. Then she fried some rice and mixed the botched eggs into them with green onions and tomatoes.

He died a year later. Fried eggs and rice is still a breakfast dish in our family. (It turns out to be a common breakfast in Cuba, the Philippines and other former colonies of Spain.)

Sneak into the kitchen of any diner and you’ll find a pan or half chafer full of popped eggs. This despite all the advances in equipment, techniques and culinary school grads. You don’t serve botched eggs to customers. You make them believe professionals don’t pop yolks.

In the event that I ever have to work a breakfast rush again, I practice egg cooking on my own. I experiment with different kinds of eggs, pans and fats (butter, pam spray, olive oil). Most restaurants and cafes use commercially raised eggs. These have the weakest yolks. No wonder they pop. The more expensive natural, organic and “artisan” hen’s eggs have incredibly strong, resilient bright orange yolks. You can just about throw one of these raw yolks on the floor and it still won’t break. Restaurants also use a lot of grease on the griddles and pans. They mop up the excess before they plate your order. They use greased cookie cutters or rings to make fried eggs uniform in size and shape.

Lesson #1: Use the commercial eggs for your scrambles, omelettes, frittatas and in baking. Save the organic and artisanal eggs for frying, boiling and poaching.

Lesson #2: Dads, please cook with your kids –- even if you think you can’t cook. The food here is your time. It’s the greatest gift you can give. Your kids will savor every morsel.

When Food Isn't Just Food

A few years ago I became a head chef flunky at the Culinary Stage of the Los Angeles Times Book Festival. It was a way to keep up my prep cook skills, meet some heroes (Suzanne Goin, Lidia Bastianich, Martin Yan, Mary Sue Milliken & Susan Feniger, Govind Armstrong, Nancy Silverton) and TV star chefs (Giada DeLaurentiis, Tyler Florence, Dave Lieberman, Cat Cora). The stage’s consulting producer, Michael Weisberg, took a leap of faith and allowed me to bring along Patricia Zarate and a few of her girls from the Homegirl Cafe to assist the celebrity chefs. This will be their third year at the Culinary Stage.

Patty founded the Homegirl Cafe as a one-room diner near Plaza Garibaldi in Boyle Heights. It’s part of Father Greg Boyle’s Homeboy Industries, a non-profit which trains and employs young men and women leaving the gang life. They run a bakery, landscaping and silk screening businesses as well as the cafe/catering company. I first came to Homegirl as a customer and then as a TV writer interested in developing a series about the place. The TV project never got off the ground but I was hooked on Patty and her girls.

If you've never been hungry it's hard to understand how cooking can change your life. I don’t even mean war refugee hungry. I mean poverty hungry -- where food runs out and regular meals don’t happen regularly. Parents are absent because they’re struggling, working 2 or 3 jobs. Maybe they have substance abuse problems. Or are incarcerated. Dinner around the table becomes a lost tradition. Nobody is cooking at home. Ask any public school teacher about their most disruptive students and you’ll likely find kids who are hungry. They can’t concentrate. They’re angry. They’re embarrassed. They don’t do well in class. They drop out. They can be quick to violence. Some end up in gangs.

I’m not a sociologist or criminologist. I’m a just writer and cook whose independent research has concluded that a person who can cook is empowered. You can feed yourself. You can feed others. You can knock something together out of the humblest ingredients or of the most exotic gourmet stuff you can't pronounce. Cooking is portable knowledge that expands with every experience and aspiration you have in life. The better you get, the braver you become in the kitchen -- and beyond.

The other day at Homegirl, I gave a little workshop on knife cuts. One girl said she didn’t really cook and that she wasn’t good in school. I pointed out that she had just done math, French and science while learning to cut large and small dice, brunoise, batonnet and julienne. Another girl grumpily washing dishes laughed when I told her Tyler Florence and Anthony Bourdain started as dishwashers. Still another recounted how she botched a pot of beans. I told her Giada DeLaurentiis burned her pizzas at last year’s Book Fest and Mario Batali accidentally set the stage on fire a few years ago.

This is just beginning for these girls. If they can master the basics, they can get past the drudgery. If they develop the discipline, they can stand with professionals and work in the best kitchens in this town and elsewhere. And even if they choose another job or career, they will be able to cook for themselves and their families.


Food is not just something to eat. It’s second chance. It’s a future. And cooking it is control in this very tumultuous world.

This weekend at the Los Angeles Times Book Festival, you can see the following guest chefs demonstrating recipes from their cookbooks at the Culinary Stage. We’ll be there assisting them.

The Culinary Stage presented by South African Tourism

Saturday, April 26th

11:00am – Reuben Reiffel, Reuben's Restaurant in South Africa
12:30pm – Sherry Yard, Desserts by the Yard
2:00pm – Steven Raichlen, The Barbecue Bible
3:30pm – Sara Moulton, Sara’s Secrets for Weeknight Meals

Sunday, April 27th

11:00am – Reuben Reiffel, Reuben's Restaurant in South Africa
12:30pm – Anne Willan, The Country Cooking of France
2:00pm – Brian Malarky, Top Chef, The Cookbook
3:30pm – Padma Lakshmi, Tangy Tart Hot & Sweet

For a map of the Festival on the UCLA Campus, go to:

http://www.latimes.com/extras/festivalofbooks/eventmap.pdf

Visit the Homegirl Café for breakfast or lunch Monday-Saturday at 130 Bruno Street at Alameda, across from the Chinatown Metrolink station.

St. Paddy's Day

I used to hate St. Patrick’s Day.

I grew up with working class Irish-American kids in one of the biggest Catholic parishes in San Francisco. All the nuns and the priests were Irish. They spoke with thick Irish brogues. Many of my classmates’ parents had brogues. On St. Paddy’s Day everybody else faked a brogue. They’d play that grinding fiddle music and make us do these silly step dances. Then somebody would pass the hat for the IRA.

If you weren’t Irish, you couldn’t wait for this holiday to be over.

Years later I visited Ireland. I found that St. Pat’s Day wasn’t a big a deal there. In fact, St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish. He was a Roman taken slave by pirates or some other “pagans” and brought to Ireland. Corned beef and cabbage was not the national dish. As a B&B owner explained to me, a true Irish dinner was probably potatoes and seaweed. A poor family in Ireland couldn’t afford meat. Only in America would they be so lucky.

One thing they always had was soda bread. Tonight I cranked up my Irish playlist (The Chieftains and Van Morrison, The Waterboys, Donal Lunny, U2) and baked a loaf. It’s the best non-yeast bread around. It makes great toast in the morning.

QUICK IRISH SODA BREAD

Sift into a large bowl:

2 cups all purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbls sugar

Cut into flour mixture with fork or food processor:

1/4 cup chilled shortening

Stir in (optional)
1/2 cup currants or
2 tsps caraway seeds

Mix flour/shortening mixture with:

1 beaten egg
2/3 cup buttermilk

Stir well. Knead briefly with hands. Place onto a greased 8-inch round pan. (Press down dough until almost flat.) Cut a cross into the top. Brush the top with milk.

Bake 35-40 mins in 375 degree oven. Check doneness with a knife.

Obama Campaign Cocktail

Okay. I’ve come out: I’m supporting Barak Obama. Lately I’ve been walking precincts in the wind and the rain for this dude.

Wet shoes and damp clothing brought back Paris again. My student year there was a soggy one. I caught a cold every month. Friends gave me the “French” cure for my perpetually runny nose, sore throat and congestion. They called it “le grog” because they thought is sounded very British. (They claimed that it rained more in England than it did in France.)

I made this drink for some water-logged canvassers last week after we braved huge puddles on the Westside in Hillary country. It was good for “la sante and l’esprit.”

Hot Lemon “Grog”

1/2 cup boiling water
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
honey to taste
1 oz cognac or brandy.

Stir all the ingredients in a mug. Sip slowly. Note: This being California, tequila is a good substitute for cognac.

This recipe is for one serving.

Remember to vote on Super Tuesday.