Three Drunken Goats

Alekka’s lovely nona Aleka treated our daughter to a girl’s night out – the movie “Up” and dinner at Twohey’s restaurant in Alhambra – leaving Andreas and me free to enjoy the kind of dinner kids don’t like. Tapas sounded good, and after a little Internet research and discussion of our shared mutual aversion to dressing up (thus eliminating Vertical Wine Bistro in Pasadena) we settled on Three Drunken Goats in Montrose. Really, with a name like that, how could we pass it up?

Montrose is a cute little LA neighborhood that reminds me of Elmwood in Berkeley – not as hip as Elmwood, certainly, but home to a few browse-worthy shops and restaurants. On a Monday night the street was quiet except for the crowd of young locals socializing at Blue Fish’s outdoor tables. Three Drunken Goats itself has a pleasant ambiance with high ceilings, dark wood, and wine-red painted walls. The large dining room is not divided up at all: more suited to a noisy weekend crowd than an intimate dinner, really, but we were enjoying our date night regardless.
I’m not a fan of television in the bar (or anywhere else) and the nuevo-punk background music was a distraction, but the low light was nice and the seating comfortable.

Despite the dearth of custom, our waiter seemed a bit distracted; I suspect he might have been new on the job because our questions seemed to make him nervous and he kept wandering off. Andreas appreciated that he didn’t hover but I think the guy at least ought to have mentioned the evening wine flight offerings without us having to ask (flights are different every night and not listed on the menu).

We started with a sampling of three reds: 2007 Onix Priorat grenache; 2007 Carro Tinto Monastrell-syrah; and a 2006 Martin Berdugo tempranillo. As I’ve said before, I’m no wine expert, but I know what I like, and it’s only fair to mention that I don’t usually like Spanish wines very well. These were no exception. Too fruity, too simple. Of the three I preferred the Onix: less fruity, more complex (I’m pretty predictable that way).

We had decided on a tapas bar in part because neither of us thought we were very hungry, but once we saw the menu our appetites suddenly returned. We really went to town on the small plates, starting off with bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with chorizo and napped with a cream sauce; pulled pork and piquilla with thick country toast; and garlic prawns with pocha beans. The sweet-salty combination of the dates was great; the creamy French-style sauce, while tasty, seemed a little at odds with the oily pork flavors of the dish. That didn’t stop us from soaking up every last bit with some crusty bread (we had to ask for the bread). The pulled pork, alas, was plentiful but watery and bland – I wouldn’t recommend it. Andreas, a true seafood lover, was pleased with the prawns. The pocha beans were clearly from a jar, but I would have been very surprised to find fresh ones as they are a rarity in this country.

Round two… more wine… Andreas ordered a glass of the Martin Berdugo he had enjoyed. I switched to a white that I liked better, a Basque Tatai that was dry and slightly effervescent. We flagged our elusive waiter down and ordered two more items: the lamb chops with mint and the artichoke and goat cheese croquettes. These dishes were delivered to us by an enthusiastic kitchen worker who certainly knew more about the food than the waiter did. This guy would have been a much better salesperson for the menu, but it was pretty evident he likes working with the food. They ran out of the chickpea puree that was supposed to be served with the lamb chops but no matter – the socca cakes with a hint of honey that we had instead were delicious, and the tiny grilled rib chops themselves with the chopped mint sauce were the best thing we had all evening. The croquettes were okay, but the breading and goat cheese overwhelmed the delicate artichoke flavor, and the baby lettuce with bell pepper sauce and berry glaze they were served with were so American that the dish seemed out of place on the otherwise mostly Spanish menu.

For dessert we shared a Queen of Nuts cake (Reine de Saba, for anyone who’s worked their way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking) – very nice, not too sweet, with marmalade to make it more Spanish and a scoop of vanilla ice cream as well.

Prices were a little high for tapas: about 7 or 8 dollars a dish, and 14 or 15 for more substantial items like the lamb. The portions were a bit larger than you often find in a tapas bar but I don’t consider this necessarily a good thing; I would prefer smaller, cheaper plates, so I could order more different items.

If you want to check out Three Drunken Goats, I’d recommend visiting on a busy weekend night. For the best value you could stop in during Happy Hour: from 5 to 7 Monday through Friday, the dates, pulled pork, prawns, croquettes, and also a cheese plate and fried calamari are all on the $5 menu.

Three Drunken Goats 2256 Honolulu, Montrose

The ABCs (and NBCs) of dim sum

No visit to a big west coast city is complete for us without at least one dim sum brunch. We’ve tried many of the recommended places in the San Gabriel Valley (Ocean Star, Sea Harbour, Elite) but NBC in Monterey Park is the one we keep going back to. It seems to have the right combination of carts, size, variety, and, for us, the added advantage of location. Our base in southern California is Alhambra, and NBC is just down the road. On this trip we had thought to revisit an old favorite from when we lived in west LA, ABC Seafood in downtown’s Chinatown (yes, there is a CBS too). But when a couple of Alhambran family members talked about joining us - one of the cardinal rules of dim sum enjoyment being to bring as large a party as you can gather, so you can try more stuff - we opted once again for the nearby NBC. As it turns out, I’m glad we passed over ABC as I have since learned it no longer has carts. We love carts.

For the uninitiated, dim sum are like Chinese tapas: small plates of little things like dumplings, turnovers, tarts, or dishes of meats or vegetables that can be shared and enjoyed in small amounts. Servers have an assortment of items on a tea cart; in some restaurants they call out the names of their wares as they roll by. You just need to flag them down and point to the things you want (unless you are a native Mandarin speaker or were raised by expert-level white people, in which case you can just ask). The server will put the plates or steamer baskets on your table and stamp the card that was put on your table by the host that seated you with a mark indicating the price of the items. When you’re all done with your meal you will need to get the attention of one of the supervisors who will tot up your bill for you. Generally speaking the stuff that is premade on little dishes is the cheapest, at $2.00 to $4.00 per plate. Items that have to be prepared by the cart operator – like Chinese broccoli, which is cooked at tableside – cost more, as do “specials” that are hand-carried by servers and offered to your table. The pricing structure remains something of a mystery to me, because in my experience there is far more work involved in making har gau than boiled broccoli, but that’s the way it is. Our bill for five people (and we had a LOT to eat), including 9.75% tax and the tip, was $62.

The best places, like NBC, are usually great cavernous rooms. Dim sum is normally served for breakfast and lunch – 9 to 3 are typical dim sum hours. Often a restaurant has a dinner menu as well, but it won’t be dim sum. It’s a good sign if there are customers waiting, and if the place is big then the turnover is usually quick. It’s best to go when it’s busy – Sunday late morning is very popular – because that’s when the kitchen will be bringing out the most variety, and the food will be freshest. We waited about 25 minutes to get a table for five. In general, don’t go to a dim sum restaurant unless it is full of people.

It’s hard to say exactly what to recommend – there is an almost endless variety of dim sum dishes, and the choices are a little different every time we go. My advice is to pick what looks good and try it. Many items contain shellfish and/or pork so if you can’t eat these things, you might run into trouble as many of the servers have very limited English. Otherwise don’t worry too much about what exactly is in a dish. If you’re too timid, you might miss something really delicious. Go with a crowd of adventurous eaters and chances are you’ll find plenty to like.



NBC does great shrimp noodles (cheung fun), siu mai, and fried scallop dumplings. The most popular dim sum are probably the har gau (steamed shrimp dumplings), siu mai (steamed pork and shrimp dumplings), and steamed char siu bao (those fluffy white buns with barbecued pork inside) – I’ve never been to a dim sum restaurant that didn’t serve those three items. Other dishes you are likely to see are chicken feet, taro cakes, fried turnip cakes, sweet sesame balls filled with red bean or lotus paste, pork spare ribs, egg rolls, miniature custard tarts, and tripe.

My husband always likes to start his dim sum meal with a bowl of rice porridge (congee - sometimes you have to ask for it), to which you can add a variety of savory toppings. “Kane kalo” he says – “it’s good for you.” Personally I’m not a fan of this bland dish - I like to save my appetite for steamed scallop-and-spinach dumplings and the shrimp rice noodle.

Just think… a whole WORLD of NOODLES

While Andreas whooped it up at a stag birthday party in Hollywood last night, daughter Alekka and I amused ourselves with a movie and dinner out at one of her favorite spots in SoCal. If Noodle World had been here when we were living in LA with four kids we would have been regulars, no doubt about it. The menu is six pages of egg noodles, rice noodles, bean noodles; Thai noodles, Chinese noodles, Japanese noodles, Vietnamese noodles; noodle soups, soupless noodles, pan-fried noodles. Won ton! Soba! Udon! Pho! And as if that weren’t enough, the whole back page is Boba World, where you can select smoothies, teas, coffees, milkshakes, or coolers in flavors like kiwi, taro, lychee, and mango. For an extra 35 cents you can (and should) add boba: big chewy tapioca pearls that sink to the bottom, where they wait for you to suck them up through an extra-wide straw. You can also ask the server to put a big spoonful of taro pudding or lychee jelly in your drink if that’s what you want, or spray whipped cream on top. Boba (aka Bubble Tea) is big in LA and the Bay Area; I wonder if it will ever make its way to Medford.

After much deliberation, Alekka and I both selected Thai-inspired dishes from the “pan-fried” section. She had number 80, Pad See-Ew - wide rice noodles with Chinese broccoli, chicken, egg, and sauce. I chose number 83, Spicy Pan Fried - the same wide rice noodles but this time stir-fried with beef, carrots, red pepper, mushrooms, basil, bean sprouts, tomatoes, big slices of jalapeno, and a different sauce. Everything on the menu is in the 6 to 8 dollar range, and the family-style plates are huge. We also ordered egg rolls, a meaty Thai version with a thin crunchy skin, and ended up with plenty of food for at least four people – hurray for leftovers! My dish was very tasty, with chewy noodles, crisp vegetables, and a tangy-spicy sauce. I found Alekka’s a little bland (though it suited her just fine). If you want to spice things up, there is an intriguing array of condiments on each table including sriracha, sour pickled vegetable relish, hoisin sauce, and sliced jalapeno peppers.

My impression is that some menu items are more true to type than others. The owners of the place are Thai, so it might be assumed that those dishes have the strongest claim to authenticy. Our oldest son Dimitri, who is an informed consumer of Vietnamese pho, was impressed by Noodle World’s version on a trip here last year. But this is a pan-Asian place, and its strong point may not be that it’s just like you would get in Beijing or Bangkok. Rather, I’m recommending it because it is cheap, tasty, and fun. It’s also open until 1 am and is invariably busy.

The original Noodle World - now there are several in the area, and a couple of Noodle Planets as well - is located in the former Big Boy diner where Andreas worked when he was in high school. Used to be, back in the day, Alhambra was about as white a little town as you would find anywhere outside of Mayberry (except for all those Greeks, of course). Downtown was peppered with diners, burger joints, and lunch counters. Of those places, Rick’s hamburgers on Main, where Andreas’s oldest brother Steve (“Zorba”) and his cronies held court at a corner booth for decades, is one of the last survivors. Now the ethnic face of Alhambra has changed and Asian restaurants of all kinds abound, in many cases housed in new buildings that have replaced all the California Spanish-style ones that were so badly damaged in the 1971 and 1987 earthquakes. In the case of Noodle World, instead of gutting the old building, the original diner booths are incorporated into a bright colorful remodel, and the old Big Boy mascot remains as a figurehead sticking out of the wall at one end of the room. It’s a sort of ancient iconic idol, its former meaning only partly understood, like a statue on Easter Island.

Ikaria III: Potato Salad

In recent years Ikaria’s cuisine has drawn this obscure island a little closer to the limelight. Diane Kochilas, America’s Greek cooking maven, is Ikarian-American. Her people are from the village of Christos in the Raches area of Ikaria, and Kochilas writes frequently about food remembered from her childhood summers on the island. Now she has opened a cooking school that operates in Christos during the summer months. The interest generated by all this has a downside for the traditionalists who appreciate Ikaria’s off-the-beaten-track idiosyncracies. For generations, the people of isolated, mountainous Raches have (for reasons only partly understood) been in the habit of sleeping most of the afternoon and staying up most of the night. I’m not just talking about discos and bars… I mean the baker, the hardware store, and the bicycle repair shop - along with every other business in town - opened shop at 9 pm and closed at 3 am. This was still true when we visited in 2002 but a look at a recent guidebook mentions how the people of Christos “used to keep late hours”. Ah well, the price of fame. Next time we go there will probably be a Wal-Mart superstore in the plaka.

By the way, our visit to Raches that summer coincided with that of a team of photographers. They were there to shoot the pictures for an article on Ikarian cooking in the premiere issue of Eating Well magazine, authored by (of course) Diane Kochilas. The proprietress of the taverna where we enjoyed our midnight meal proudly informed us that the moussaka on my plate was the very same one that had been photographed a little earlier in the evening for “the American cooking magazine.”

So here I am this week in sunny southern California, having just returned from the annual picnic of the Oinoe Chapter of the Pan-Icanian Brotherhood in Pasadena. We were there to celebrate friends, family, Agias Marinas day, and the anniversary of Ikarian independence. As it does every year, the picnic featured barbecued hamburgers and Polish dogs (with guys named Demosthenes and Nikolas manning the grill), accompanied by a big potluck spread of homemade Ikarian specialties: soufiko (a vegetable stew similar to ratatouille), spanakopita, stuffed tomatoes and squash, Greek salad, and Ikarian potato salad, with – like always on the island in the summertime – karpouzi (watermelon) for dessert.

My husband's Aunt Koula is the San Gabriel Valley’s recognized authority on Ikarian potato salad, and unless she happens to be visiting the island on the picnic weekend she is invariably called upon to provide this dish for the celebration. I plan to do a lot of cooking with Aunt Koula this week (it’s a big part of the reason I made the trip) because the only way to get one of Aunt Koula’s coveted recipes is to cook it alongside Aunt Koula. She doesn’t measure, and she doesn’t have it written down, so you just have to let her show you how big a handful, how big a pinch or shake or whatever. Sadly, I didn’t arrive in town soon enough to see how she puts this particular salad together, but I have made Diane Kochilas’s version (linked here) and I will vouch for it as very similar, and almost as delicious.

There is one essential ingredient in the recipe that is likely to sound unfamiliar, though if you have a garden you have probably seen plenty of it. Greek glistrida – purslane in English – is a prolific and persistent weed with red stems and roundish, soft, almost succulent-like leaves. It grows close to the ground in abundance in our vegetable garden. I have never seen it for sale but if you ask around you can probably find a backyard gardener who would be thrilled to have you remove it. Diane Kochilas says you can substitute watercress if you can’t find purslane, but I say don’t – it wouldn’t be Ikarian potato salad without it. Instead, come over to my house and I’ll show you where you can get some.

The Leeky Cauldron

Half a gallon of homemade chicken stock was languishing in the fridge. I had made the stock on Thursday with the intention of using it in Greek egg & lemon soup on Friday. But with Friday’s temperature up over 100 again, soup didn’t appeal. By yesterday it was definitely time to use the stuff up. Fortunately I took a look at Sarah Lemon’s Mail Tribune food blog at just the right time. She was extolling the virtues of fresh homegrown potatoes, and mentioned her recent craving for vichyssoise. How ever could I have forgotten about vichyssoise!

I was an avid cook as a child and teen, a hobby heartily endorsed by my father. My first year in college he gave me a boxed set of Mastering the Art of French Cooking and right away I set about systematically learning the classic methods described therein (I’ll be posting more on this subject in a couple of weeks). First I learned to make stock, and one of the first things I used it for was vichyssoise.

In MAFC, Julia Child tells us that vichyssoise is an American invention based on French potage Parmentier, which is essentially the same soup except that it is served hot. Here’s a bit more on the history, including a recipe from the Chef Louis Diat at the Ritz in New York where the dish originated. I have always used Julia Child’s recipe but next time I will try sautéeing the leeks in butter first as described by Mr. Diat.

Here’s how Julia says to make it:

Vichyssoise

3 C peeled sliced potatoes
3 C sliced white of leek
1-1/2 quarts white stock (chicken or veal)
salt to taste
½ to 1 C whipping cream
salt and white pepper
2 to 3 T chives

Simmer the vegetables in stock with a little salt for 40 to 50 minutes, until vegetables are tender. Puree the soup in a blender, or put through a food mill and a fine sieve.

Stir in the cream. Season to taste, oversalting slightly as salt loses savor in a cold dish [I love how Julia tells you this stuff] Chill.

Serve in chilled cups and decorate with minced chives.

Ikaria II: Come the revolution, we'll all have eggplant

Ikaria’s obscurity and isolation have made it an interesting place indeed. For years Athens didn’t want to spend money on improvements in that remote location. Electricity and plumbing didn't come to most of the island until the 1970s, with the first medical clinic and local airport only opening a few years ago (both funded primarily by the Pan-Icarian Brotherhood in the US).

The Greek government used the island as a dumping ground for Communist political prisoners through the 1970s. The combined effect of official neglect and the influx of Communists exiles resulted in much of the island becoming (and remaining) radically left-wing and a gathering place for subversive writers and intellectuals, not to mention a terrorist cell or two.

Andreas insists his radical countrymen are the reason our phone makes funny noises and he always has to take his shoes off at the airport. If Homeland Security shows up at our door I am going to wow them with this dip; it’s good with flatbread crackers or pita, or put a spoonful on your plate to enjoy with souvlaki or lamb chops.




Melitzanosalata

1 large eggplant
8 cloves garlic
1/2 C. olive oil, divided
½ C. crumbled feta cheese
(note: exact amounts of garlic, oil, and feta depend on the size of the eggplant)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cut eggplant in half lengthwise and place both pieces cut side up in a baking dish or roasting pan. Brush 2 T. of the olive oil on the cut sides (it will soak in right away). Place dish in oven and roast eggplant until cut side is dark brown, about 45 minutes to an hour (see photo).

While the eggplant is roasting, peel the garlic cloves and have the oil and cheese ready. When eggplant is cooked, remove it from the oven and immediately place hot eggplant in the bowl of a Cuisinart fitted with a steel blade. Add the peeled garlic. Turn the processor on and add the remaining oil through the feed tube while it is going. Process until almost smooth. You want the garlic to be well chopped with just some dark flecks of eggplant skin visible. Add the cheese and process briefly so that there are still some small chunks of feta. Serve chilled or at room temperature as a side dish salad, or as an appetizer with crackers or pita.

If you do not have a food processor, you should be able to make this with an electric mixer or a potato masher. Without a food processor I would recommend cubing the eggplant before roasting it to avoid large pieces of skin in the salad, which can be chewy. Roasting time will probably be shorter.

Pirated Picnic

It was a beautiful evening to enjoy a picnic dinner in Ashland while watching boy Nik dance with Ballet in the Park (the last dance - Axis - is the coolest but in Salome he plays a king and gets to wear a spiffy green suit. I can't figure out how to make this itty-bitty picture any bigger, so go see the show. It's free).

When Nik’s brother Kosta played trumpet in the Ashland City Band a few years ago, I used to love picking out five or six half-pints of those fancy deli salads at Market of Choice for us to take to the outdoor concerts on Thursday nights. Now with our savings down the drain and paychecks channeled directly into the coffers of an out-of-state university, deli salads at $8 a pound just aren’t happening any more.

So I have become the Salad Sleuth: I channel my inner Sherlock as I spy on deli salads, analyzing ingredients for the purpose of home kitchen replication (“Watson, take a taste and tell me what you think is in this…”) A couple of our faves came to the park with us last night, along with a Caprese salad, the leftovers from a watermelon salad (watermelon, red onion, feta, lime, and mint), and some little sandwiches based on the Brie Bartlett one I had at Saint Honore Boulangerie in Portland a while back (someone in my house ate the pear I had intended for this sandwich but no matter, it was still quite tasty).

Here are two easy copycat salads. Of course, it's also fun to invent your own.


Curried Rice Salad

Great for using up leftover rice. Good as a cold salad, or put a drop of water in, cover and heat in the microwave for a warm side dish.

4 C. cooked rice
3 T. canola oil
2 t. curry powder
2 T. minced parsley
½ C. dried cranberries (unsweetened if you can find them)
½ C. slivered or sliced almonds, toasted
½ t. salt

Cook curry powder in the oil on the stove for about a minute, until it becomes aromatic. Add it to the rice and stir until it is well mixed in. Add parsley, cranberries, and almonds and stir together until evenly distributed. Mix in salt to taste.

Orzo Salad

This one is best served cold.

4 C. cooked orzo
1/3 C. minced parsley
1/3 C. pine nuts (toast in a pan on the stove in a T of olive oil first)
½ C. sliced green olives
½ C. golden raisins
½ C. vinaigrette, made by whisking 4 parts olive oil to 1 part red wine vinegar or lemon juice.
About 1/2 t. salt

Mix all ingredients together. Chill. Salt to taste.