Drop Jean Paul Bondoux’s name in foodie circles in the Southern Cone and heads turn. No, he’s not a star on elgourmet.com, the South American version of the Food Network. Think more along the line of revered French chefs like Alain Ducasse. Chefs that take food from being a natural substance and fuel for our bodies to something that approaches art, is a creative expression, constitutes an experience and can produce temporary nirvana.

Jean Paul has been at the helm of the classic French restaurant, La Bourgogne, located in the Alvear Palace hotel in Buenos Aires. Now with locations in the jet set Punta del Este, Uruguay and wine country, Mendoza, he takes local Argentine ingredients and marries them with impeccable French technique to woo your tastebuds. And some pampering I may add with the primo service. Isn’t so much of eating in restaurants about being served and well attended?

I first got turned onto La Bourgogne in Mendoza when it opened at Carlos Pulenta winery in Vistalba before later visiting the “mothership” in BA. Once with sweeping views of the Pulenta vineyards, La Bourgogne has since relocated to Mendoza city to The Diplomatic hotel with a decidedly more refined menu. The clever chef, Federico Ziegler, took rustic, country-style dishes and refined them with European technique, clever flavor combinations, and presentations with serious style. La Bourgogne was one of those places that hit the right notes: creative, tasty, satisfying, and not pretentious. I quickly became a La Bourgogne groupie on my trips to the “other side” of the Andes.

Imagine my surprise when I kindly accepted an invitation from fellow (visiting) food writer, Ivy Manning, to accompany her to the Chef’s Table at Noso in the W Santiago, their flagship restaurant.  Noso is under the meticulous command of Jean Paul. Dressed in a decor palate of warm colors with splashes of crunchy, contrasting textures like flashy metal and an imposing vertical glass case wine “cellar”, it reads sleek. However, we didn’t come to taste the regular menu. Special invite (note to self: perks of food blogging) to savor the recently launched Chef’s Table program.

A beautiful square table was set up for a couple dozen dinners in plain view of the open kitchen. Polished copper pots and marble counters were in plain view and the cooks hummed away as they effortlessly pumped out very complex dishes. The chef came to introduce himself and upon discovering who it was, why Federico from La Bourgogne in Mendoza, I was super stoked.  Small world? Always, especially down here among foodies.

Off we set on a culinary odyssey, a series of “bites”. First a fresh, acidic Apple gazpacho with shrimp two ways in a type of carpaccio. The top had a crunchy polenta and sesame crusted shrimp that went perfectly with my favorite bubbly ever, the Cruzat rosé.

Next, we dug into Easter Island Tuna. The perfectly seared tuna had a crunchy brulee crust laced with a Provencal sauce (basil and olive sauce) along with a tomato tartare with tomatoes, ginger, calamari tubes and tomato glaze. I will admit to liking anything and everything raw when it comes to fish and even meat. Tuna, along with oysters and steak tartare, top the list. A Morandé Gran Reserva Chardonnay was a nice complement.

As an Argentine, he could not have missed a course without mollejas, sweetbreads. I will admit that as a meat (err, offal) they took me a while to warm up to eating. I simply do not really crave nor enjoy eating very rich food any more (sorry foie gras). A couple bites though were delicious (he had soaked them in milk) and they had been slow-cooked for hours and seared for a slight crunch. He served them on a silk sweet potato puree with a bitter chocolate and morel sauce. Holy flavor combination. This went with a nice, fruity, cherry-forward Morandé Terrarum Pinot Noir (which we stuck with through the next course).

At this point, after 3 tiny yet protein-laden courses, my appetite was getting, well, wimpy. Out of the kitchen came a prosciutto and almond-crusted Corvina, seabass, on fennel risotto. It was topped with a fennel confit in bouillabaise sauce. I loved the sauce and could have done a shot of that to wake me out of a pending food coma. By this time, I had been sucked into a rather spirited conversation with the very charming Spaniard sitting to my left (don’t be afraid to rub elbows with your neighbors, btw).

I rallied to taste one bite of the lamb filet along with the Morandé Gran Reserva Syrah (or so I think it was at this point). I can safely say my reason for being a carnivore is because of lamb.  I never turn it down. This was perfectly rare, almost with a floral note, and the chef paired the dish with caramelized Shallots, pine Nuts and sherry reduction. I felt like we needed a half time break though. Even though these were “miniscule” portions, multiply anything times seven and it adds up. How do the French do it? More alcohol? Calvados? How do I hack it when I finally go to The French Laundry with a dozen of these courses? It became obvious my training was not sufficient.

Last round. Dessert, schmessert. Sugar and I really don’t tango much. I really can just skip it. Apart from berries and stevia in my smoothie for breakfast. Maybe I was diabetic in another life. However, the last course was so light and cleverly presented that I couldn’t help but try it (and it’s hard when a chef is standing there looking at you and waiting for your reaction…). The mango appeared to be cannoli. Genius! He must have been slicing those mango slices off the mandoline for a good 15 minutes. He then diligently wrapped them in plastic wrap to roll up the strawberries. Served with a drizzle of tarragon syrup and white chocolate sauce. I remember a late harvest but at that point, now entering the food coma, I just needed water and coffee.

The journey was over. I was really amazed at the freshness of the products, the creativity and thought in how each of the flavors and textures were composed, like notes of a symphony. While high tech in the sense of technique used to coax out the flavors, the dishes were simple and never covered the base ingredients. It was a fun evening. I felt like I had been walked through an edible art exposition.

Noso plans to make these chef tables a monthly experience the 2^nd or 3^rd week of every month starting June 22. The invited chefs will be those who work with Jean Paul in Argentina and Uruguay. Dinner runs around US$100 per person with the seven courses and wine pairings.

Reservations? Yes! Call 770 0082 (local call) .   So if you’re in town on business or leisure and happen to be fortunate enough to be around, check it out. Your palate will thank you.

When it comes to pursuit of drinking good wine, sometimes you get lucky enough to stumble upon one of those bottles that hits the price-quality ratio dead on. A wine that year after year gives the same consistency,  hovers in the same price range, and has decent distribution to find it easily. After all, you have to be able to get the goods! While I could wax on and give you my short (and long) list of many South American wines that fit suit, but I want to highlight one that we have been drinking a lot of as of late. This wine fills the price-quality ratio AND, to boot, is organic, biodynamic, and sustainably farmed.

(Drum roll). Let me introduce to you Coyam, from Emiliana Orgánico.

I will admit it, I was smitten with this wine from the first time its juice passed my lips in 2003. At that time, I was at a dinner party with a friend whose husband was a wine buff. I was a wine newbie and just recently starting to get seriously obsessed with the topic. At we sat there nibbling on our lamb chops, I savored the historic 2001 vintage, silently amazed (fyi, the grapes used for only that vintage would later come to be their ultra premium baby, “G“). The wine wooed my palate: robust and smooth, tannic yet elegant, bold yet understated, it got better and better as I drank it. Those letters, c-o-y-a-m, were engrained in my young wine mind.

As I got to know Emiliana’s project through our wine tours in the Colchagua Valley and meeting their wine consultant, organic/biodynamic pioneer Alvaro Espinoza, I became more and more convinced that Coyam is one of Chile’s great, solid wines in the mid-range of US$20-30. It’s an interesting niche, in my opinion, in the wine market. While it is far from entry-level wines, it is not so pricey either that it wouldn’t merit opening mid-week for a little self-indulgence. And beyond the price tag, with Coyam, you are receiving way more in terms of quality. Yes, they give you WAY more “use” value than “cash” value paid.

While the blend of Coyam changes slightly every year, the base is always Syrah, Carmenere, and Cabernet mixing in some fun other French varietals like Mouvedre or Petit Verdot. I was privileged enough to recently taste the soon-to-be-released 2007 vintage. 2007 in Chile was another wham-o vintage: perfect ripening conditions and no rain during harvest. Those little berries could just hang out until they reached their perfect point for picking. The results? Well, I will leave it to my tasting notes below and for your tastebuds to decide.

Coyam (Emiliana Orgánico) 2007

This wine is big. Big in structure, presence, and taste. If it had a body type, I would describe it as Mr. T. It is also “big” in alcohol at 14.5%, normal for the hot Colchagua Valley, although the wine is very balanced. The 2007 is wound tight still and upon opening the bottle I felt like I was committing a quasi infanticide, knowing how well this wine can age. It needs aereation for sure so be aware of that and don’t “hurry” the wine or you may miss its subleities.

On the nose, it smells explosive and fruity. Like juicy black plums that you could crush in your hands, blackberries, some dried fruits like prunes or figs and barrel notes linger. After letting this open, in the mouth, it was dense and chewy. Tannic but smooth. This vintage felt rounded, more elegant, soft, and even a little “fresher” (not so “cooked”) as hot years in Colchagua can be.

I will be honest that we felt after one glass that with 1 hour oxygenation the wine deserved more time to open. So we put in the frig and returned the next day. Another beast, especially when served just a little chilled (remember, room temp is always warmer than you want to serve reds especially in our non A/C apartment in summer time…). Now we were in business. Coyam had come out of its cocoon: long, balanced, nice acidity, bright. Just delicious.

My favorite vintage to date since 2001. Thankfully, I know where to get Coyam, and it won’t break the bank at around US$30.

Salud!

I want to share this short video documentary (two minutes long) with you guys that a dear friend of mine here in Chile, Jacqueline Fabius, produced.  Jacqueline is a gifted photographer, graphic designer, and a budding filmmaker. She’s also off in Haiti working to set up a school as we speak. Here, in Nothing from Heaven, she shows us a day in the life of Señora Veronica, a cleaning woman in Chile, who discusses issues of class, women’s rights, and her own personal aspirations.

This documentary presents an interesting perspective within Chilean society, which is very stratified (aren’t all countries though to some extent?). Certainly those of us familiar with Chile and its culture will have some resonance since we are fortunate to have domestic help. Señora Veronica immediately reminded me of Mimí who works in our home with pride, love, and treats us like her own kids. She too has worked the best that she can to put her kids through college so that they can advance towards a better future, through education.

While Chile certainly is classist in many respects, perhaps one of the best things this earthquake did was to bridge that gap which has grown with all the economic progress in the recent years. People seem to have dropped their guard and contribute to being more a United Chile. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter where you went to high school or how much you make or what car you drive or what your last name is.  Chileans say “Fuerza Chile”, “Vamos Chile”, all the time. It is a common hope, goal, aspiration that has nothing to do with class. I sincerely hope that this attitude will also become part of people’s being during reconstruction and not something just temporary. There’s no need to be classist. We are all equal and having the same human experience. There is enough abundance and opportunity for everyone.

Enjoy and share! And thank you Jacqueline for this brilliant video.

Chicago is a MAJOR foodie city. People take food seriously from ethnic joints to the Chichi experience. Luckily, the first night, I hooked up with some local foodies at Les Dames dinner and followed their recommendations to discover some awesome spots.

Here’s my round-up for this trip:

Taqueria Amigo Chino, Irving Park US$5-10

This greasy neighborohood taco shack packs them in for crunchy tacos al pastor in massive portions. There is never an empty table at this local joint where Mexican families chow down on enchiladas, burritos, whole fried fish, and frothy glasses  of horchata. Since no human stomach could possibly handle all this food, the waitresses will gladly doggy bag the other half of your order. Not bad, not the best tacos al pastor I ever had, although anything after 15 hours of plane food tastes pretty damn good.

Empanadas 5411, Hyde Park/Delivery US$5-10

These Argentine-inspired empanadas were freaking sublime, actually better than many I have had in Argentina. The secret? The baked dough that was crisp but not greasy and inventive stuffings were killer like barbecued chicken, classic salteña, spinach and ricotta, mushroom. This accompanied the wine tasting at the Booth School of Business. They only do delivery but these are so tasty, you could easily polish off a dozen of these for any location.

Sweet & Savories, Lincoln Park US$30

The local press called this spot a “foodie gem” for inexpensive upscale cuisine. We hosted the Les Dames dinner here and I would agree the restaurant was no frills nice and was all about the food. Textures, flavors, and accents really worked here. The chef paired all the courses with our wines so we went from a salmon ceviche with papaya to avocado-lobster soup, lavender-charred steak over bean-pumpkin potage, and olive oil cake with dulce de leche ice cream. Yum.

Urban Belly, Roscoe Village US$15

OMG! Focusing on Korean and Pan Asian food, this place just rocked my tastebuds.  Order at the front of the store for “Fast (gourmet) food” and grab a seat at one of the glass covered picnic tables. Their specialty is big bowls of noodle dishes like the Thai basil-soba-scallops-oyster mushrooms, homemade kimchee, and playful dumplings stuffed with foie gras. The dishes range from piquant to spicy-as-hell. Thankfully, lots of free water to put out the flames.

NoMi, Park Hyatt Chicago US$15-30

Dimly lit with chestnut-hued hard wood floors, marble table tops, and picture windows overlooking sweeping views of Michigan Ave and the John Hancock building, NoMi feels low key but sophisticated with impeccable taste. If you have a group, reserve their communal table in the wine cellar. Order up their naughty dirty martini, made with Grey Goose and rimmed with black truffled salt. Two olives stuffed with gorgonzola seal the bliss.

Opart Thai, Western Brown Line US$15

Located right at the Western stop on the Brown line, this little restaurant is pretty authentic, inexpensive and tasty. Simple but not a hole in the wall, I decided to depart from my usual standards and try a new noodle dish (number 50 on the menu but blanking on its Thai name right now). It came tossed with obviously homemade thick rice noodles, cabbage, brócoli, shrimp, basil, and chili sauce. Man, if only I lived within range of delivery of that kind of place…I would never cook Thai at home.

Jamablee Juice (salad), West Loop US$10-15

Slim pickings for a quick lunch in the West Loop (so I discovered) other than chains serving up (processed food) like Au Bon Pain and Potbelly sandwichs. Even at Au Bon Pain, I could not get just olive oil, vinegar, or lemon juice, all prepared dressing full of chemicals and HFCS (high fructose corn syrup, the US lives on this, but I digress). I luckily found this simple neighborhood juice bar serving up smoothies, shakes, crunchy salads with real dressing and lots of veggies. By far, a big salad was more expensive than the sandwiches, fries, etc. This just blows my mind how vegetables are a “luxury”. At least I could find them.

House of Glunz, Old Town

Dating back to 1888, this is one of the oldest wine shops in Chicago, a sort of historic monumento-shop. The focus is on wines from all over but the funkiness of the place with original shelving, anticues, and old Bordeaux wines (try the 61 Latour or 98 Petrus) is charming. Worth a stop by.

Spice House, Old Town

The sweet scent of cumin, paprikra, chili, and crushed spices wafts in the air. It tingles your nostrils and takes you away, like Marco Polo, to foreign lands. Dozens of varieties of pepper, chili powder, curries, dried herbs, sea salts, tender crystallized ginger. Depending on your mood it can be overwhelming or inspiring; a cook’s dream. I was in a state of overwhelm when I got to the salt section. The black Hawaiian stuff was the prettiest (but salty) and the truffle salt was my favorite. Unfortunately, not willing to risk it with finicky Chilean customs to bring it back.

Lula Café, Logan Square US$20

Be prepared to wait but it is worth it. Scrumptious, hip, young, and cool. The waiters are chill, the service is swift, and the food is fresh, perfectly balanced, and totally sublime. Brunch is king with a weekend rotating menu where dishes like eggs benedict atop a pumpkin-sage-mascarpone bread pudding with arugula rule. Mimosas and Bloody Marys free flow from the bar as does the coffee, if you need it. One of my favorite spots on this trip as of yet.

Café Orchid, Addison Brown Line US$20

Going to a Turkish restaurant for me is like traveling to an exotic land where I can only recognize a handleful of plates but I am hard-pressed to order ANYTHING I don’t like (similar to Indian or Moroccan). Intense, concentrated, condimented with spices, but not spicy, these lush tastes are fit for a sultan. We started with the sampler tray (hummus, ezme, babaghanoush, tabuli) and moved onto lamb filled raviolis in yogurt; lamb; grilled veggies; and the most succulent charred eggplant ever. BYOB and with tip after baclawa for dessert, was US$20. If I lived nearby, I would be there e-v-e-r-y weekend. A trip to Turkey must be in my near future. I am officially OBSESSED with Turkish cuisine.

Maproom, Bucktown

Specializing in hundreds of beer, this is one of Bucktown’s local watering holes where you can try any beer to your heart’s content: ales, pale ales, Belgian beers, lagers, scouts, you name it. Loud rock music and a drinking scene makes this go off on the weekends.

Just Grapes, West Loop

The dream of the young and energetic Don Sritong, Just Grapes concept RULES in wines: hand-selected wines (many boutique wineries) from US$10-30 from all over the planet from South America to France to the US, Europe and Australia/NZ. You can taste in the shop or sign-up for one of their weekly tasting classes to really beef up your tasting skills (ok, ok, I did teach a South American wines class there, so yes, it’s a plug for this cool shop). Prices are same if not better than Binny’s and Sam’s.

As I write this, the two spots I didn’t make it to on this trip that have to wait for my next jaunt to Chicago is Chilam Balam (modern Mexican small plates), The Gage (old school digs meets new Irish cuisine off Michigan Ave), and Moto (the newest cutting Edge dining).

Loved it. Happy dining and thanks to all the Chicago foodies for guiding me to some great eats.

Ok, ok, so here’s my shameless plug to convince all you guys to come to this class, Discover the Wines of South America. It is going to kick total butt and be a whirlwind journey through the region’s terroir–with not a big brand in site. Only, boutique terroir-driven labels. Here’s the write-up:

In recent years, we’ve become entranced with South America. We are vacationing in the jungles of the Amazon, tasting regional cuisines, and sampling an array of new South American wines—and for good reason. Chile and Argentina, in particular, are turning out excellent wines that are giving classic European vintages a run for their money, at very affordable prices. In this class, wine and travel expert Liz Caskey will guide you through an interactive tasting of the best these two countries have to offer, using evocative visuals and informative handouts to demystify the wines being presented. Explore terruño (that’s Spanish for terroir) and learn how Chile and Argentina’s characteristic approaches to wine making, coupled with climatic and geographical conditions, helped European vines take on unique expressions in the soil of the New World. In each glass of wine, you’ll discover rich, dynamic, exotic flavors that are as intriguing as the places from which they hail. Taste and discuss a variety of wines—from Chilean Carmenère to the wholly Argentine Torrontes—that will serve you well as a guide for future exploration.

So just to really sell you into coming, these are some of the rockin’ wines we are going to taste:

Argentina

Cruzat, Rosé Sparkling

Altavista, Torrontes Premium

Mendel, Unus

Finca Sophenia, Malbec Reserva

Chile

Aquitania, Sol de Sol Chardonnay

Quebrada de Macul, Domus Aurea Cabernet Sauvignon

Neyén, Neyén (Carmenere-Cab blend)

And perhaps a little extra surprise blend to share with everyone!

Once again, here’s the info to get hooked up. And of course, as a bonus, you will get to meet me and hang out. I would love to get to know you guys.

Date: October 28, 2009

Time: 7:00-9:30pm

Sign up here.

See you there!

Cazuela is the ultimate Chilean comfort food. The dish has its origins in the indigenous Mapuche soup known as “corri,” originally made with potatoes, pumpkin, corn or cornmeal, green beans, red peppers, quinoa, chili, wild herbs, and animals ranging from wild game to chickens. The Spanish conquerors arriving in Chile in the mid-1500s coined these soups “cazuelas” after the large vessels used for their preparation. The Spanish incorporated peninsular ingredients like domesticated chickens and beef, rice, carrots, onions, garlic, oregano, thyme, and parsley to these hearty stews.

I periodically crave cazuela, even in the summer time, and love how its fragrant stock permeates kitchens at lunch time where you get “whiffs” from miles away. Although cazuela is eaten year-round, in the raw winters, the flavorful broth has a strong restorative component that keeps the chill at bay.

The secret to a good cazuela lies in a good quality stock, gently boiled and left to infuse for hours. As a general rule of thumb, calculate 2 cups (1/2 liter) of water per person for cooking. Some liquid is inevitably lost to evaporation and absorption by the chicken and vegetables. Cazuela can be served in “sunken” pasta dishes, but the traditional way is in the red clay pots, known as greda. They are excellent heat conductors and the high sides make them virtually slop-proof—perfect for slurping up all that tasty broth.  

1 whole free-range chicken (4 1/2 pounds or 2 kilograms), cut into 8 pieces

6 cloves garlic, smashed and divided

3 tablespoons long-grain rice

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 leeks, chopped coarsely (substitute 1 large onion)

6 carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped

6 large potatoes, peeled

2 teaspoons sea salt

6-8 whole black peppercorns

Bouquet Garni: A few springs of fresh oregano and parsley, tied together with kitchen string

1 cup green beans, sliced finely

6 pieces of corn-on-the-cob, about 6.5cm/2.5 inches long

6 medium chunks fresh pumpkin (optional) 

For garnish: ½ cup fresh cilantro and parsley, finely chopped

Clean chicken of any excess fat and skin. Many Chilean cooks still leave all the skin on. I find this excessive since the stock becomes greasy and needs to be degreased before serving. Trim down the skin to afford flavor, not too much fat. Season the chicken pieces with salt, pepper, and rub with 3 cloves of garlic. Place in a large stock pot and cover with 3 quarts (3 liters) of water along with the garlic used for rubbing. Simmer for 40 minutes until the skin is soft. Remove the chicken and strain the broth through a cheesecloth. Reserve stock and chicken pieces separately.

Wash the rice under running water until it runs clear. This process means the starches in the rice so they won’t cloud the stock. In a stock pot, heat the olive oil. When hot, add the leek (or onion), carrots, and remaining garlic to brown for five minutes. Add the potatoes, pumpkin if using, washed rice, salt, pepper, and bouquet garni. Return the stock to the pot and bring to a simmer for 25 minutes until the potato and pumpkin can be pierced with knife. At that time, add the green beans and corn along with the reserved chicken pieces. Cook for 10 minutes longer so that the flavors meld. Remove the bouquet from the stock and taste for salt.

To serve, place a piece of chicken, a whole potato, piece of pumpkin, one corn-on-the-cob, a couple carrots, rice, leeks (onions), and green beans in a deep bowl. Ladle broth over the vegetables to partially submerge them. Sprinkle with cilantro and parsley. Personally, I also love a dash or two of merkén to give it a slightly smoky and piquant note.

Serves 6.

What’s a cook with to do? Prioritize. Much of my time was strategically thinking through all my kitchen necessities. Although I am pumping out creations in an itsy-bitsy galley kitchen, that doesn’t mean my faithful Kitchen Aid, convection oven, appliances, and full spice, Vinegar, and oil Collection, and other favorites didn’t make the cut. The 120+ bottles of wine have found a dark, cool resting place in one of the closets before they move back to their new A/C-driven cellar.

Nights were full of tedious packing, but instead of reaching for the phone for pizza relief, one thing that kept Francisco and I really anchored was homey food. I sensed this may be the case in early June and in a blitz of cooking one weekend, prepared food to be frozen for moving week: spinach gnocchi, lentil soup, pumpkin-cranberry bean-chard stew, and a whole chicken to be defrosted and roasted later. With the upheaval, which was mental and physical, having some connection to “real” food was absolutely key. It made me feel at home, even though my surroundings suggested otherwise.

This weekend, I rotated the remaining vegetables and cheeses in the frig in a very inspired, albeit impromptu, vegetarian lasagna. If cooking for me usually is a divine connection in that I find using my hands very meditative, this break helped me center and brought some calm amidst the chaos. The lasagna is sans pasta. I thought it was totally unnecessary. The flavors were absolutely divine, in addition to being light, flavorful, and totally healthy and low in fat. The base recipe I created out of my head (as I cooked) is below, although tweak it with whatever may be lurking in your vegetable drawer and tune it to your own taste buds. 

4 medium zucchini, sliced 1/4-inch (I used a mandoline)

3 medium eggplants, sliced in thick rounds

4 large red or yellow bell Peppers, halved and deseeded

6-8 carrots, peeled and grated

1 cup finely chopped button mushrooms

1 bunch green onions, finely chopped

1 pound ground turkey

1 can tomato juice

1 can diced plum tomatoes with their juice

1 lb. Ricotta cheese, drained

½ cup parmesan

1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

1 egg, beaten

1 cup grated low-fat jack cheese

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

Fresh thyme leaves

Sea salt/fresh black pepper to taste

Pinch of Merkén, or crushed pepper flakes 

Preheat oven to 180F.

1. On a tray, place the eggplant rounds and brush with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Place in the oven and roast for about 20 minutes until tender. Remove from oven and reserve.
2. Rub the peppers with olive oil, salt and pepper and place in a roasting pan. Roast for about 25-30 minutes until skins are slightly blistered. Be careful not to burn them. Remove from the oven and place in paper bag to cool to loosen skins. Peel, slice lengthwise, and reserve.
3. In a fry pan, brush a little olive oil over the surface. Salt the zucchini lightly. Sear the sliced zucchini on both sides, about 3 minutes each side. Repeat until all zucchini have been seared. Reserve. This will be your pasta “substitute”.
4. In another large sauce pan, heat two tablespoons of olive oil. Add the green onions and cook for 5-7 minutes. Incorporate the mushrooms and cook for another 5 minutes. Add the ground turkey and cook through, breaking up the big chunks into little bits. Add the tomatoes and tomato juice, salt, pepper, and pinch of merkén and mix well. Turn heat down to medium low and slowly simmer for about 30 minutes until much of the liquid has been absorbed or evaporated.
5. Toss the grated carrots with a sprinkling of salt.
6. In a bowl, combine the ricotta with the egg, nutmeg, 2 tablespoons of Parmesan, thyme leaves, and salt and pepper. Reserve.
7. Now to put it all together!! In a large lasagna pan, cover the greased bottom with a layer of zucchini. Spoon the turkey sauce over the zucchini evenly. Next arrange a layer of roasted eggplant. Following this, spread a layer of ricotta (I used my hands since the spatula was just not happening). Cover with grated carrots and decorate with the slices of roasted pepper. Repeat two more times. For the top layer, save a little extra sauce and sprinkle generously with all the Jack and Parmesan cheeses.
8. Back for 30 minutes. Let rest 10 minutes before serving as it is steaming hot (and hard to cut).

Yield: 6 portions.

Note: This made delicious leftovers—and paired well with a simple Northern Rhone blend. 

Last night, I had a weird dream that I woke up with a strange medical condition. Something doctors had never seen. I had permanently lost my appetite.

It was like the Matrix, the same day kept repeating again and again, and still no appetite. I felt physical hunger but zero attraction to food. I didn’t care about flavor, and the worst, I had absolutely no desire to cook. Food had become purely fuel to me. I could have taken a complete daily “pellet” and been fine. And cooking? It felt like too much effort and work. Help!

Obviously, this was an anxiety dream (or nightmare). I found myself fretting, wondering what to do. Holy shit. Life was over as I knew it. I could no longer be a foodie because I didn’t care about food. Nor a cook. As my mind spiraled downward, I thought, this is the end of my career! However, what most freaked me out: “How the heck am I going to occupy my thoughts all day long?”

Before losing my appetite, the entire fabric of my day revolved around food. Shopping for it; preparing it; planning meals and parties; reading about it in books, on blogs; watching it on TV. It was the central axis for understanding the world. The vital blood. My passion.

In my dream, I tossed and turned, paced, and tried to resolve why it was so hard to occupy my mind with something else. Come on, Liz, just find another interest. Music? Sports? Marketing? Something! I was going crazy with boredom, and then suddenly I realized why.

As foodies, food lovers, chefs, and cooks, there is a whole process in cooking that is deeply soul-satisfying. Cooking takes you entirely through the creative process from start to finish in a relative condensed period of time. That same process, as in all of creation, can be applied to starting and growing a business; having a baby; training for a marathon; any and all endeavors in life although usually these things take much longer and so we don’t sense there is a beginning and end point at times.

So what is that creative process when applied to cooking that makes it so sticky, so loveable, so satisfying? I probed and probed this question in this dream that seemed to never end, and by the minute caused more anxiety as to what I would do with myself. 

1. The spark of desire: Everything starts with the flicker of an idea. A seed. In cooking,  sometimes dishes are born out of a vacuum, a craving, a sudden flashback to a childhood memory, flipping through a cookbook, or even a burning science question. Like all great ideas, when they hit hard, you know it. Yesssss. You feel it. And well, to grow the seed, you have to care for it and develop it.

2. Visualization:  As you develop your idea, the mind starts to think in pictures. You have a vision. Cooking is so sensual that most, if not all cooks, have the capacity to read a recipe, understand it, AND get an imaginary taste and texture sensation in the mouth. Visualization? You bet. You are imagining and experiencing the dish before it exists. Before any pot, pan, or knife has been taken out and dirtied. This is the part where you can innovate, make it your own, and in my opinion, is the hallmark of understanding how to put together a larger menu for a dinner. You orchestrate the final result in your mind and then essentially work backwards and do the necessary steps to get the desired results.

3. Action and Planning: I don’t know about you but most of my day looks like this: at breakfast I plan dinner. Shopping at the market I resolve the lunch menu. One humble ingredient like celery can inspire me and create a domino effect that produces an impromptu cooking project. Now that I have celery, I should make more stock. Oh it’s cold, and celery goes in lentil soup, how yummy would that be for tomorrow. You see how a cook’s mind works.  Plus, most cooks are foragers and love rumaging around markets, food shops, and ethnic haunts looking for strange and new ingredients. It makes you feel like a kid on a scavenger hunt. The planning is part of the fun.

4. Alquimia/Taking Shape: At this point in the process, all the material has been procured, so now the magic really  happens. It is probably my favorite part. I love to stack all the ingredients on the counter to visually take them in before I transform them. As I progress in the recipe(s), I love seeing how the primary ingredients join together to form the dish, a pie, a sauce. It’s chemistry. It’s physics. A dash of alquimia. And most definitely, a good cook knows and feels her ingredients—always with room to play a little and have fun. Tweak. Taste. Toil. Bubble. In that, your feelings and usually a lot of love, get mixed up in the flour and sugar, or marinated with the beef. Just like Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

5. Final results: The final product, the fruit of the recipe, is a not unlike a symphony. It is the culmination of the process. The manifestation of the image and seed planted in the cook’s mind. Flavors and textures meld together to create sensations and cause a total experience. When I am in sync in the kitchen, time stands still, and the resulting meal is harmonious, long, with carefully crafted flavors and perfect textures. When I am in a pinch at lunch time, hungry and with deadlines, even a simple seared chicken breast, can be staccato. The flavor falls short. Maybe it is a little chewy since I had the heat too high. I cared less–and it showed.

And then it hit me, dreaming still. Waking up with no appetite was essentially losing my life inspiration. My juice. My mojo. From start to finish in cooking, I give of myself and breathe in inspiration from my own work. There’s a larger purpose and connection behind it. 

In my dream, the alarm went off in three very loud beeps.  As I laid there and slowly came back to consciousness, I started to fantasize about toast and natural peanut butter with soy milk for breakfast. No, maybe I wanted a veggie goat cheese omelette. Better yet, muesli and yogurt.

I smiled. Thank God. It had only been a nightmare. My appetite was still in tact and kicking.

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Comparing cellar notes with my Dad on the phone, he shared with me some of his newest findings that gave me a short lived chuckle. If any of you have tried these, I would love to know what they are like. Or if you have any outrageous wine names, let’s get that going too. It is refreshing actually to find these lighthearted labels (although perhaps opportunistic in a marketing sense). I will say that the Australians have nailed the niche of getting people to buy cheap and cheerful wines exclusively on the label as Wine & Spirits Daily posted a while back.

Anyway, let me know if any you have actually “experienced” these babies. I give them high scores for creativity in the name making at least and some of the ratings I found from Wine Dictator/Spectator:

–Barrel Monkeys 2004, an 16% alcohol Shiraz fruit bomb–oh my!

Supple, generous and nicely focused, showing pure blackberry and blueberry flavors, which linger on the slightly hot finish. Drink now through 2009. 4,000 cases made. –Bruce Sanderson

–Jealous Bitch 2007, Chardonnay from New South Wales

Chatham Imports, hmm…not so sure about the dog on the label. Would be willing to bet though that female dog owners in their 20-30s may be the market.

–Two Hands, Two Gnarly Dudes 2005, Shiraz from Barossa

This name I just loved. It is like Sideways meets those Surfing Chefs down under. The wine description on www.snooth.com describes it as “black to the core” followed by aromas of tar, earth, licorice, cedar, and black, black fruits. Ok, I gather its gonna be very chewy with viscosity that may need a knife. All the reviews were favorable and said it was balanced in alcohol-tannins-acid. This is not a light wine though–14.8% alcohol and that kind of dark fruit definitely will need a rack of grilled lamb chops.

Fire up the barbie mate!