The Foundry + Sprinkles

Last Sunday was my birthday. Considering I am still recovering from my wedding three weeks earlier (hence this being the first BFT post in 5+ months -- w00t!), I decided on a low-key affair consisting of: sleeping in, coffee infused with a cinnamon stick (inspired by Mexico honeymoon), passively watching football while tooling around on my new MacBook Pro, and finally getting up in the afternoon to hit up two Los Angeles spots I've heard much about.

I first heard of The Foundry from an admissions counselor at Kitchen Academy in Hollywood (I have and still do flirt with enrolling). They offer a fixed menu on Sundays. According to our waiter, Chef Eric Greenspan hits up the local farmer's markets and devises the menu that very day. Which is a bit of a lie since I peeked at the menu on their website on Saturday, and a large majority of it was indeed there on Sunday, but no matter. I really dug the vibe: Low key, sophisticated without being pretentious, with a bar out front that has just enough room to squeeze in jazz and blues acts. Chef Greenspan even came out a couple of times to make sure everyone was enjoying their food. Sure, you will be surrounded by entertainment industry conversations, and the valet is seven freakin' dollars, but the food... oh the food.

Finely crafted. Gorgeous. Flavorful. We stuffed ourselves on four courses.

Camille's 1st course -- Duo of raw fish: spicy albacore tartare, chestnut, persimmon / yellowtail sashimi, celery, kumquats

She says: "Fabulous. Phresh with a P-H. I really liked the salt on the yellowtail with the celery and the citrus." Note the tartare rolled up inside a date.

My 1st course -- Potato soup: gruyere and leek bread pudding / bacon / fried egg

They bring out the dish with the bread pudding, bacon, and egg by itself. Then they pour the soup right in front of you. The soup was flavorful without being too heavy. And I'm a big believer in topping anything and everything with a fried egg. When you think about it, it's like a classic diner breakfast in soup form. Except really elegant. The bread putting puts it over the top. Lots of different textures going on.

Camille's 2nd course -- Potato Gnocchi: swiss chard / figs / blue cheese

She says: "The best thing there." I had a bite. Twas most cheesy, in a good way.

My 2nd course -- Crispy pork belly: yams / fennel / raisins

Somewhat similar to one of my favorite Filipino dishes, lechon kawali. Which is exactly why I ordered it. It didn't disappoint. The pork belly was perfectly cooked, with crispy skin/fat that wasn't oily in the slightest, plus really tender and juicy meat. Camille suspects that, instead of deep frying it, they probably ladled hot oil to crisp it. The salty/crispy of the pork on top of the rich sweetness of the yam was delightful.

Camille's entree -- Crispy skin salmon: broccoli / walnuts / orange

She says: "Cooked perfectly. But it was 'eh.' Something you can get at any restaurant."

My entree -- Duck confit: squash / piquillo peppers / dried cherry / spaetzle

I was surprised they gave me two duck legs. At this point, after potato soup and pork belly, I was beginning to fill up. Crispy and juicy in all the right spots. I don't know what kind of salt is used, but it brings a subtle yet distinct layer of flavor to the duck. The fixings were fine, but not the melding of flavors that my previous courses had.

Dessert -- Eggnog creme brulee: dried fruits / orange sherbert

At this point we were about to explode. I didn't mention that between each course, a small bread was served. No more than two bites apiece, but we're four courses in, now. Woof. I really liked the addition of the fruit and especially the orange sherbert. The citrus helps cut through the richness and sweetness of the creme brulee. I wanted the sugar coating to have a more distinctive crunch... you know, the whole brulee bit. In fairness, I was done before this thing hit the table. Lots. Of. Food.

We had actually gone to Sprinkles beforehand to pick up cupcakes. You'd have to be a hermit to not have heard of Sprinkles. They were recommended by Martha Stewart at one point, which is basically like having the clouds part and God tell you you are his son. And as evidenced by the "coming soon" part of their site, they are going to be positively everywhere. Cupcakes are the new gourmet frozen yogurt, apparently.

And lo and behold, when we arrived, there was a 20-minute line out front. I am immediately distrustful of famous Los Angeles proprietors who flaunt their fame and have excessive lines (Pink's Hot Dogs can lick my ass), but I was won over by one distinct menu offering on Sprinkles' wall: a shot of frosting. Awesome!

We didn't actually get a shot of frosting, but the cupcakes were good. Firm and moist and sweet and all that stuff. They do a cream cheese frosting that's very nice. The red velvet cupcakes are one of their most popular, and for good reason. Even though I was stuffed, I plowed through one when we'd returned home. Most satisfying.

And to top it all off, they make dog-friendly cupcakes.

Maui, Part 1: Kalua Pig & the Plate Lunch

Aloha! Let it be said that Camille and I aren't huge fans being in water. Which would probably present a problem for us when visiting Hawaii, except Hawaii has awesome food. Also, it's sunny and warm and lush and beautiful. But you knew that.

We went a year ago for a wedding and visited the Big Island and Oahu. It was a trip that laid the groundwork for this blog, but despite the endless pictures of food, I never got my thoughts down to clearly write about it. So, some real quick recommendations...

Big Island

Merriman's in Waimea. Chef/owner Peter Merriman is one of the twelve founding chefs of the Hawaiian Regional Cuisine movement, and this restaurant really lets the local ingredients shine. However, Merriman's Market Cafe in the Waikoloa resort/mall is very underwhelming. If you're interested in a great sandwich, head down to Island Lava Java in Kona and get yourself some coffee while you're at it. If you're in the market for some coffee beans, you'll have plenty of options. Mountain Thunder's very nice.

Oahu

The best plate lunch in Honolulu is Yama's Fish Market. It's not really near any tourist strips, which is a good thing. A wide variety of plate lunches (very good lau lau) to choose from, as well as a vast selection of poke. Matsumoto Shave Ice is an enormous tourist attraction in the North Shore town of Hale'iwa, and for good reason. They shave the ice down to a perfect, snow-like texture that you don't have to chew. I'd recommend adding ice cream and red bean, and hell, buy yourself a T-shirt. (By the way, any place on the island that offers "shaved ice" is a fraud.) On the way to Matsumoto's, you'll probably see the shrimp trucks parked along the road. Giovanni's Shrimp Truck loads on the butter and garlic for a great shrimp scampi. And if you bring a sharpie, you can scrawl your name on the graffiti-covered truck. If you're looking for fine dining and another one of those Hawaiian Regional Chefs, I highly recommend Alan Wong's in Honolulu. It's in a nondescript office building that you'll surely miss on first pass, but inside is terrific food terrifically served. I'm pretty sure we had a guy who's only job was to introduce the dish and suggest the ideal way of eating it. You'll pay for this type of thing in the end, sure, but it's always nice to have one fine dining night on a vacation.

This year, we had another wedding to attend, this time in Maui. In the chain of islands, Maui sits between the Big Island and Oahu. In terms of energy and culture, I found Maui to be an interesting mix of Oahu's urban paradise vibe and Hawaii's lava-fields-with-beach-resorts thing. If I had to pick one word to describe Maui, it'd be rural. And if I had to pick a second word, it'd be immigrants. The locals who didn't work the tourist trade all seemed to work the lands. And in stark contrast to Oahu's markedly Asian demographic, a great many locals in Maui are, well... I believe the politically correct term is "whitey." Some of the Hawaiians who waited on us hailed from Huntington Beach, Irvine, and the Czech Republic. After returning from the lush road to Hana, we ate in the quaint town of Paia and were enveloped by European accents from all over. I have no hard data to back this up, but it sure seems like the people who decide to move to Hawaii end up choosing Maui. So it is that some of the best local food we had was prepared by a Seattle-raised sous chef and German goat cheese makers.

One of the most iconic things about Hawaii and Hawaiian food is, of course, the kalua pork at luaus. It's fast becoming one of my favorites, in part because of its simplicity: salt the pork, wrap, and roast for a long time. If you don't have the time, space, or inclination to dig yourself an imu, heat some stones, and bury a whole pig on top of it with some earth, then you can google yourself a recipe that will require liquid smoke and several hours in your oven.
One of my favorite ways to have kalua is part of a mix plate. The plate lunch is another deeply Hawaiian dish, with Hawaii's immigrant history literally on display right in your styrofoam container. Kalua, teriyaki, fish, whatever you fancy, it's all there with scoops of rice and macaroni salad. As with any region's famous food, mix plates have become ubiquitous in Hawaii to the point that you may encounter a place with hurried, bland food. Such is the case with the oft-recommended Aloha Mixed Plate, a restaurant in Lahaina that inhabits every tourist flyer and dining guide at the airport.

I wouldn't say it's bad. In fact, the appetizer of coconut prawns was a very promising beginning to our trip. The sweetness of the shrimp and the nuttiness of the dried coconut go really well together, and for a deep fried food, it wasn't terribly oily. Combine that with our table right at the edge of Aloha Mixed Plate's cozy, oceanfront patio, and it sure seemed as if Pele was smiling down on our arrival. And then the plates arrived.

The lomi lomi and macaroni salad were fine enough. I didn't like the poi, but I've never liked poi, so I don't hold that against anybody. At first, I couldn't figure out what bothered me about the kalua, but after several fork fulls in my mouth, I slowly realized what was missing: some flavor. Way under seasoned. No smokiness at all. Even a little on the dry side. I tried some of Camille's pork lau lau, but it was the same. The ti leaf wrap adds a nice layer, but it was still bland. She noted that there wasn't much fat, and certainly lean pork might explain some of this, but at the end of the day, it was severely lacking.

I wonder if Aloha Mix Plate was having a bad day, because their sister establishment right next door, Old Lahaina Luau, had pretty solid food. Considering Old Lahaina Luau serves 500+ people every night, you'd think they would have the bland food. Then again, they actually make their kalua in the traditional way.

Again, Aloha Mix Plate ain't bad. But you won't regret skipping it, either. My vote for best plate lunch goes to local chain Da Kitchen. They really pile it on. Lots of choices, big servings, and pork the way I like it: salty and fatty and juicy. Yum. Plus, bonus points for wrapping their lau lau in an outer layer of leaf and knotting it up. You could probably attach it to your belt loop if you were so inclined. Not saying you'd be cool or anything, but it's physically possible, that's all.

Surprisingly, the most satisfying kalua goes to Kula Sandalwoods Inn & Cafe. It's possible I was desperate for some good pig after the disappointment of Aloha Mix Plate, but this quaint, mellow place in the sleepy town of Kula really hit the spot. I felt a little bad that the place was so empty because it was simple and spot on. The kalua sandwich I had hit all the points on my kalua flavor checklist, plus the clever addition of hoisin sauce to "butter" the bread. Camille's grilled ono sandwich was similarly simple but with the little touch of goodness that is chopped tomatoes. The place is only open for breakfast and lunch, but if you're in Kula (and you should be), you'll be served by the family that owns the place and have a wonderful view of west Maui below you.Some plate places will offer a loco moco all day. You certainly can't go wrong at any time with a loco moco, but it's supposed to be a breakfast dish, and we had a very good one at another Kula stop, Cafe 808.

What kind of place is Cafe 808? From what I could tell, it's very no nonsense and caters mostly to locals. They don't even have a website. I mean: THEY DON'T HAVE A WEBSITE!!! If that's not antiquated and cute, I don't know what is. They also use fold up tables, feature some very old wood paneling, and generally have the look of an old community center/gym hybrid. In other words: a hole in the wall. I loved it.

Kidding aside, they make a mean loco moco. Camille and I usually try not to order the same thing for the sake of adventure, but getting up at 3:30 am and racing the sun up to the top of Haleakala in a rented Corolla is adventure enough for us. We wanted filling, we wanted comfort, and we wanted it with a scoop of rice. Enter the loco moco, Hawaii's wonderful entry into the comfort food lexicon. A juicy beef patty topped by a fried egg (cooked to order, I like it runny), and the whole thing bathed in gravy. Those looking for a hearty breakfast can't ask for much more. If I lived in Kula, I'd probably eat here twice day, every day.
Probably the best bang for your buck as far as plate lunches would go to Honokowai Okazuya & Deli. It's a tiny carry-out place in a strip mall with a Pizza Hut and a AAAAA Rent-A-Space, so it doesn't inspire much to look at it from the street. But the food is on par with most sit down restaurants, and if given the right location and ambience (like, say, the oceanfront locale of that tourist whore, Aloha Mix Plate), the owners could easily charge more. Instead, they pile the stuff into styrofoam boxes with plastic utensils and pass the savings onto you.
I went with the fish 'n' chips. The fish is panko-crusted, which is a delicious change of pace, making it light and crunchy. The real winner, though, is Camille's plate lunch of grilled fish in a lemon, butter, garlic, and white wine sauce. As Camille noted, it easily could have been a $20 dish at an entry-level fine dining establishment if it's served on a plate with real flatware. It's downright sinful as carry-out, rich and savory without being overbearing with the flavors. It wasn't just a pan full of butter -- which is delicious in its own right -- but a balanced combination between the wine, garlic, butter, and lemon. It was damn good.
Sorry, Aloha Mixed Plate, if that "tourist whore" comment seems harsh, but by comparison, you ain't nothing. You are dead to me. Up with Da Kitchen and Okazuya!

Click here to read Part 2: Going Native.

Aloha Mixed Plate
1285 Front Street
Lahaina, HI 96761
(808)661-3322
www.alohamixedplate.com

Old Lahaina Luau (reservations required)
1287 Front Street
Lahaina, HI 96761
(800)248-5828
www.oldlahainaluau.com

Da Kitchen
Rainbow Mall
2439 South Kihei Road #A107
Kihei, HI 96753
(808)875-7782

Triangle Square
425 Koloa Street #104
Kahului, HI 96732
(808)871-7782
www.da-kitchen.com

Kula Sandalwoods Inn & Cafe
15427 Haleakala Highway
Kula, HI 96790
(808)878-3523
www.kulasandalwoods.com

Cafe 808
4566 Lower Kula Road
Kula, HI 96790
(808)878-6874

Honokowai Okazuya & Deli
3600 Lower Honoapiilani Road #D
Lahaina, HI 96761
(808)665-0512
www.mauihawaii.org/restaurants/okazuya.htm

Lechon (or, How to Commit Suicide by Deep Frying)

Lechon Kawali

One of the most iconic traditional pinoy dishes is lechon, the spit-roasted pig. Sadly, I have neither a whole pig, large skewer, nor a large fire, not to mention the wherewithal to clean, season, and skewer a whole pig. Which is why I opted for lechon kawali, the indoor version that involves boiling, drying, and deep-frying pork belly.
It's a celebration of fat. Making it helps you realize it's basically a bacon slab deliberately cooked in such a way so the thick layer of fat under the skin doesn't melt away. You want that fat. You need that fat. It's good eating, that fat. Looking at lechon kawali is looking at a chunk of boiled, deep-fried fat that's been seasoned with a touch of meat.

This is atypical Filipino family party food, but my mom never made it at home. And now I know why. My soon-to-be mother-in-law taught me her simplified method that replaces frying with a turbo broiler, but since I don't have a one I had to mix and match various methods.

You will need...

3-4 lbs. pork belly, cut into strips
salt & pepper
cane vinegar (sukang maasim)
a large pot
a lot of piping hot oil for frying
acceptance of your own mortality
a splatter shield
a draining station (paper towels, or a slotted baking sheet set over paper towels, etc.)

Cut the pork belly into long strips, about 1 - 1 1/2" wide. Season with salt and pepper. Boil for about an hour, until the meat is tender and the layer of fat has swollen considerably. Remove the strips and let dry on paper towels for at least one hour.

The proper post-boiling step as taken from the terrific book Memories of Philippine Kitchens...

"3. While simmering the pork, preheat the oven to 400. Using tongs, transfer the pork to a roasting pan fitted with a wire rack, pat the pork dry with paper towels, and brush on both sides with vinegar. Transfer to the oven and roast for 20 to 30 minutes to dry, turning onces with tongs. Remove from oven and keep in a cool place to dry for another 4 hours."

Then fry the pieces about 6-7 minutes until the skin is crispy all the way through. Set aside to drain and cool.

Now, I'm making a point of referencing and quoting because that isn't what I did.

Following the boil, I gave the strips several pat downs, cut them into large chunks, and popped them into the freezer for about ten minutes while I heated the oil. Despite the vast majority of recipes I looked up -- you know, the recipes based on generations of experience -- recommending to dry the pork for a prolonged period, I went with the one recipe that said one hour of air drying would do the trick. Yeah, not so much.

Quick and dirty science lesson if you've never thought about why hot oil goes batshit crazy when water is introduced: water and oil do not mix (clearly I am a genius). When molecules of water are surrounded on all sides by hot oil, the water instantaneously boils. The resulting vapor then goes racing up towards the surface and looks around to see there's a microwave and a floor and my face within reach, and explodes like so much nitroglycerin.

Of course, I knew this and figured all the drying was for this exact reason. But, damnit, I wanted lechon kawali NOW!

Well, it seems pig fat does a reasonable job of holding a lot of water. I'm going to estimate that the top of my microwave is about three and a half feet above the stove. Scorching vegetable oil exploding through a splatter shield and above the microwave might possibly be the scariest thing I've witnessed in person.

Anyway, be sure to fry the pieces until they are crispy and don't give under a little pressure from tongs. Lechon sauce would be nice (like Mang Tomas "All Purpose Sauce"), but Camille simply likes to drizzle some vinegar over it. The crispy, rich fat and the lean meat, combined with the acid saltiness of the vinegar makes for some addicting, life-affirming food.
Paksiw Na Lechon

And it doesn't stop. No, the real beauty of lechon is the leftovers can be cooked into a completely different dish. Most Filipino restaurants are casual turo turo joints, which means "point point." But when I'm in line with my tray, staring down at my choices, I'm always looking for one thing: paksiw na lechon. (As for the Filipino trend of doubling up on words... don't don't ask.)

Using vinegar, soy sauce, brown sugar, and a whole lot of "All Purpose Sauce" to stew the meat and reverse all that drying and deep frying, paksiw na lechon is more hearty and savory. It's absolutely required to have rice on the side to soak up the juices (not that any Filipino would be caught dead eating this without a side of rice). Unlike lechon kawali, the meat takes center stage. The pork flavor really comes to the fore with the sweet and tangy stew, the richness of the fat working more as a balancing counterpoint.

I used a recipe from pinoycook.net which basically calls for letting the meat break down in the stew, then adding All Purpose Sauce (which, by the way, is used for all purposes lechon, but nothing else) to smooth things out. In restaurants, it's usually fairly thick, but this preparation is runnier, more in line with most stews.
Salty, sweet, savory. I love this stuff.