One of the questions I get asked most often is, “do you cook at home?” And when I am with a group of people and offer to cook, they always double check to make sure I really do want to cook. Cooking and being involved with food, be it writing about food, running my restaurants, or cooking with family or friends, is pure zen for me.

On the Fourth of July for the past 3 years I have been invited to cook at Chris Schlesinger’s house in Westport, MA. Though Tremont 647 is open on the July 4, and rather busy, I generally take the day ‘off.’  This year I went to Chris’ with Jura (Tremont 647’s chef de cuisine), and Emma (Tremont 647 general manager) and Joy (our director of operations), and provided some kick-ass lobster rolls, tuna tartar, ribs (of course), corn on the cob and collard greens. Some people like the beach; I like to cook with friends, for friends and have a julep.

Here’s a video, shot by Emma:

Last week I was in Utah (Solitude Resort) for a family reunion and I offered, along with my sister, Sorel, to cook a dinner for the whole family, about 20 people. Again, my family asked me if this was something I really wanted to do – almost as if they were saying, ‘you cook all the time and you want to cook today?’ Yeah, I did.  There’s nothing better than cooking for friends and family and providing joy through food. 

The question that comes to my mind, besides people being polite and making sure I really want to do it and don’t feel like I have to (thanks!), is whether they are also saying, ‘I don’t do my job at home; why should you?’ Do they think maybe I am sick of it? I wonder how other people feel about it?

Anyhoo, dinner rocked!  Here’s what we ate:

Salsa Roja

Salsa Verde

Tomato Salsa*

Chicken Chicharones*

Lime Sour Cream*

Corn & Green Bean Salad

Blueberry Bread Pudding

Burnt Caramel Ice Cream

*recipes on “pages”

I was honored to be able to cook for my family, and they were psyched too!

I guess my point here is, I think there is no delineation between work and not work. (Am I working now?) Maybe it’s because I ‘work’ in food. Or maybe it’s just because I love what I do. It’s a life style, a culture, and for me… pure fun.

i Love BBQ

Volume 23, Issue 6 of my Kansas City Barbecue Society (KCBS) newsletter just arrived. It’s called “The Bullsheet.” Fitting. Who wouldn’t love a story titled, the “Educator of Que” or “How do you build a Polish Smokehouse?”

I’ve been thinking a lot about BBQ lately. Maybe because it’s summer; maybe because it’s the start of the competition BBQ season (I compete with the talented Chris Hart on the iQue BBQ team). I am fully drawn to this food, this sport (yes, sport!), this life style. And I ask, why?!

There’s the memory of learning from chef Chris Schlesinger what true BBQ is.  He pushed me to respect a cuisine I thought was simplistic, which I now know is far from that.  I remember staying up all night in Rockefeller Plaza, in the heart of NYC, smoking pigs for a Meals on Wheels event. Actually, there’s a video somewhere of that night, but I think that is better unposted to protect the innocent.

There was the first true competition Chris Hart and I participated in, the Pig & Pepper (1997?), where we were soaked to the bone by the chilling New England October rains, we passed out and our tent collapsed, our fire went out, and we had no idea what we were doing. Thankfully, “Uncle Jed” saved our asses with fire and sweet smoky bourbon.

There were all the times I’ve cooked ribs and chicken and anything else I could smoke in places like Jamaica, Thailand, Michigan, Seattle. All the memories of sitting around a smoker with new and old friends, shootin’ the shit, losing at Texas Hold’em, sipping bourbon or drinking a cold Harpoon IPA, are my happiest ever.

Of course I have to mention the time our team, iQUE, won first place in Brisket out of 500 teams at the Kansas City Royal. This was such a rush, winning an unbelievable award with a group of 7 friends who will be my friends for life…

it was an honor to be with them; it was an honor to win.

Here’s the video from that win:

One of my favorite chefs in the US and a dear friend, John Delpha (chef at La Campania in Waltham), is on our BBQ team.  His first experience was at The Kansas City Royal a year before our big win. And he put it best: “I love the passion.”

He and I both love food and when food is prepared with a high level of passion you can just feel it and, of course, you can taste it. 

I love the ritual of trimming, brining, rubbing the meats, slowly smoking them and babying them with sprays and glazes so they don’t get too dry. Slicing them just right and placing them on a light shredded pillow of green leaf to be served to people who will recognize the passion with every bite…

Perfect ribs have the smell of sweet smoke, a slight crunch or bark on the outside that is sugary, yet tart and spicy, with a glaze that gives a little pucker, a mysterious zip, and a soothing creaminess. The meat is tender, not falling off the bone. A small tug leaves a mark where your teeth were tearing and an all-encompassing bite of flavors explodes in your mouth, only to be followed by several more bites and a cold beer.

After a weekend of BBQ, I need a long, hot shower… and then I need to find some sushi or a salad…

We decided to go to Lopez Island in the San Juan Islands for a family vacation.  I spent a few summers on Orcas Island at Camp Orcila and have super fond memories.  The San Juan’s are lush, pristine, and calming.  I can see why people vacation and sail here all of the time.

One day we decided to go strawberry picking, we had seen signs for a farm near the house we rented.  We pull up to the farm and there’s an umbrella in the center with the farmer and family and/or friends sitting there.  They tell us to take a bucket and go start picking, 3 dollars a pound, go have fun.

Row and rows of small green leafy bushes with the cutest little strawberries were everywhere.  Funny enough you’d think this 38 year old chef would have been strawberry picking before, but nope, never.  Growing up in Seattle I picked my share of blackberries but never a strawberry. 

I was there with my mother, sister, brother in law and the cutest little strawberry picker of them all, Tessa Simone my beautiful niece. 

Mostly we see strawberries from California (Driscolls) in the grocery stores, and my understanding is that this varietals when left on the vine to fruition is one of the most incredible strawberry one can ever have.  The problem is that it is never left on the vine and this varietal is used because it gets so big and looks so good before it is fully ripe and thus is very good for shipping.  And then we get a strawberry that is flavorless in February and everyone uses them for Valentines.

On my knees picking the strawberry I was so enthralled how beautiful they were, the best ones when you gave them a little twist the stem would stay with the plant and in my hand was this beautiful little soft red gift of nature.  Popping one in my mouth was a wonderful experience.  A small snap or even crunch followed by an explosion of juice fills my mouth.  Interestingly it had a slight tart taste at first followed by a big sweet juicy rich strawberry flavor, maybe even a small hint of salt and herb that gave it a such a startling flavor that I had to have another one right away.  And of course another. 

Sitting in this field, eating some of the best strawberries I have ever had and watching Tessa eat strawberries, to date, is one of my favorite food/family memories ever. So we picked 5# of strawberries and headed off to the organic farm next door to get dinner.

What did we do with the Strawberries?  We Patron Strawberry Gimlets, yum!!!!  Strawberry shortcake, of course.  And then I made some strawberry jam, lay up. 

Every day I want to eat just picked strawberries.  Everyone should.

Air  ‘Plain’ Food

I am not sure if I value 5 dollars like I should, I hope I do, the five is the second smallest denomination (I do not consider the elusive 2 dollar bill a denomination) and I guess I should give it more respect than I did today. It really deserves more.

Then is it I am delusional thinking ‘maybe this time the food will be good on the plane’?  Maybe it will be even ‘edible’?!!!   Maybe I’m tired and hungry, but what ever it is the five dollar bills have put me on notice.  NO more fives for me until I can use them responsibly and not recklessly spend it on something no one would feed their child, their mom, or themselves if they did not have to.  I didn’t have to, I just did.

So here it is, some kind of breakfast thing.  It arrived to me warm, maybe 100-120 degrees, covered in aluminum foil.  Starving I remove the aluminum to see glistening scramble looking eggs, though they were strangely curdled like egg colored tapioca with the starch seeping around it. There was maybe red peppers or pimentos on top, grayish new (ironic?) potatoes on the bottom, and a piece off pinkish sausage on the side.

I grabbed the ketchup and doused the eggs; if I had Tabasco I would of put that on!  The eggs texture was very interesting, fully cooked in some areas, others runny and undercooked but not any raw egg flavor.  Interesting.  My guess is some sort of pasteurized scrambled. It had this creamy sweet and rich flavor with out really tasting like an egg, salty, strange mouth feel and a bitter after taste.  The potatoes do not deserve more than two words:  bland, mushy,

Cheap sausage can be ok sometimes; I am not a sausage snob.  I love that Jimmy Dean; he knows how to make a breakfast sausage at the right price! I don’t know what he puts in his sausage and I am pretty sure I do not want to know, but yummy!  I try to replicate it in my cookbook and it is good and we serve it at brunch every weekend but my heart is still in love with Mr. Jimmy Dean and his sausages. I digress….. knew it when I saw it what I was in for:  Soft, mushy, small weird pieces of cartilage that you bite into and swallow quickly hoping it’s not a bone or something worse, rubbery casing.  Not only did I get all that but I got a nice surprise of some strange fake maple after taste that really complimented the nitrates and sulfates.

Over all this was not five dollars spent well, Sorry President Lincoln you deserve better.

I spent last Tuesday at Russo’s market in Watertown. I have done business with them for 12 years at Tremont 647, and for four years before that while I was the chef at East Coast Grill. The first thing that came to my mind when I walked in to this vastly expanded market was, ‘Wow! I do not come here enough.’

As a chef I get the fantastic opportunity to work with so many different ingredients from around the world.  Sometimes a good refresher really does help – seeing ferry ring mushroom, banana blossoms, or even new organic field greens becomes so invigorating.

I had the opportunity to talk with Tony Russo and I asked him about when the local strawberries are coming. He smiled, said, ‘yeah those are good,’ and then started talking about Albian organic strawberries that are coming out of California. He described them perfectly, saying they were tubular, with a nice snap, rich sweet strawberry flavor and firm stems. There’s nothing better than hearing someone talk about food in such a loving, descriptive way.  But back to the local strawberries I was asking about, here is where the conundrum lies.  I feel that we are in such a quagmire over what to do about, local, organic, sustainable foods – not to mention price and flavor, flavor, flavor. Those local strawberries are so yummy; no need to cook them, just lightly wash them and perhaps add a little vanilla bean whipped cream, just a little, and I am psyched. But what do I do the rest of the year? This is such a fun question, very challenging with a socio-economic slant stained with strawberry juice.

In this blog, THAT is my goal. To discuss all of the wonderful flavors, ingredients and smells that this wonderful world has to offer. I feel strongly that there needs to be a vernacular to describe food. Yes, I know that it’s kind of like describing the color red; but I know it can be done, just like the descriptions for wine. I want people to think about their food and describe it. Can you tell me what a tomato tastes like?  I also want to write about local foods, organics, sustainability and what it all means to you and me. Lastly, but not leastly, restaurants I’ve been to, cities and countries I am traveling to, and anything else food- and restaurant-related.

I hope you enjoy it and you’ll comment, respond to and ask questions.

-ANDY O.C. Husbands

FYI:

A Russo and Sons

560 Pleasant Street

Watertown, MA

02472