My Second Annual Month of Letters

February always sneaks up on me, but I'm going to participate in the Month of Letters 2013, even though I'm off to a late start.

Here's the challenge: Send one piece of postal mail per day, every day that the U.S. Mail is in service. That's 23 letters, notes, packages or postcards. And respond to every piece of personal mail you receive.

Author, blogger, voice actor and puppeteer Mary Robinette Kowal isn't just trying to support the postal service. She initiated the challenge last year, to brighten up a dreary month and remind people about the special pleasure of getting something in the mail. More than 700 people participated in the 2012 challenge.

"Email is all about the now. Letters are different, because whatever I write needs to be something that will be relevant a week later to the person to whom I am writing… It is relaxing. It is intimate. It is both lasting and ephemeral," Mary writes in her blog about the challenge.

Follow the Month of Letters on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/LetterMo) or Twitter (#LetterMo, or follow @LetterMonth).

If you'd like some mail from me, let me know in the comments. (If I don't have your postal address, I'll message you.) Or just send me a postcard!

A month of letters

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One handwritten letter, every day, for a month. That's my plan for February; it's the Month of Letters.

I have always admired a different writing project, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), although I 've never participated.

NaNoWriMo members pledge to write a book during the month of November. They set word-count goals, cheer each other on, and get advice from published authors. It's a spirited group effort to take that novel you've always meant to write and get it off the ground, out of your head and onto the page/screen.

This seems like a great way to combat the isolation of a writer's life while circumventing all-too-easy procrastination.

I'm pretty sure that I don't have a novel in me, but the Month of Letters has an appeal.

A friend pointed me to this blog post by writer/puppeteer Mary Robinette Kowal. The challenge for the Month of Letters is straightforward: Post a letter a day.

I will mail at least one item -- that's actual, physical mail, not email or blog posts -- on every day that the U.S. Postal service delivers mail. That's 24 pieces of mail. (There are four Sundays and one federal holiday in February.)

I may go beyond that commitment. A list of potential recipients quickly numbered 29.

Do you have a box stashed in your closet or attic, full of treasured letters from relatives and friends? I do, but if you're younger than me, than you probably don't. I doubt I've added an item to the box in the last 10 years. I'm looking forward to changing that.

Want to join me? Want to get a letter from me? Leave a comment!

Dinner with the pirate chef

Lafitte
Pier 5, The Embarcadero
San Francisco

Chef Russell Jackson invites adventurous diners to approach the plank, a six-seat bar at the edge of Lafitte's open kitchen. There he seems to compose dishes on the fly, combining disparate ingredients that sometimes meld, sometimes shout, but always excite.

Lafitte, at Pier 5 on the Embaracadaro, opened a little more than a year ago. Its market-driven menu changes daily and harks back to Chef Jackson's days as the Dissident Chef at the helm of SubCulture Dining, an underground supper club. Subscribers received passwords and were instructed to call a phone number to learn the secret location of each night's meal.

As we perused Lafitte's intriguing cocktail menu, the chef claimed to have no idea what he was about to set before us. "You're early," he commented, not at all fazed. He chortled as he rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out mostly unidentifiable bagged foodstuffs.

My drink, the Mohawk, smoothly blended sweetness and a hint of spice with Russell's Reserve bourbon and a generous twist of lemon. The chef was carefully carving slices of hard cheese, which he combined in a bag with sprigs of fresh thyme and olive oil and set to simmering in sous vide.

The first plate started things off with a flourish: a rosy chunk of pate de fois gras, a spoonful of house-made applesauce, crystalline cava jelly, Chinese fleur de sel, and Italian orange oil drizzled over all. A lively bundle of flavors, but they played nicely with each other, and the fois gras was superb.

As I watched Jackson compose the next course, all I could think was, "How is that going to work?" A thin slice of pure white Iberian lardo went down next to a similar portion of compressed cucumber, adorned with pickled lychee, crushed hazelnuts, extra-virgin olive oil, and slivered Italian prunes. It was smooth, chewy and crunchy; rich, nutty, tart and fruity. Each bite held your interest, and how often can you say that about a salad?

"Spicy time!" the chef announced, presenting grilled padrone peppers, quail, and cherries resting on a wash of pepper jelly and spiked with fresh marjoram. The first-of-the-season cherries were meltingly soft from the grill and moderated the heat of the padrones. Jackson described finding the unusually large peppers in the farmers' market and surmised that a week of warm weather had given them extra bite.

The sun went down and the Bay Bridge lit up, framed by large windows set in bare concrete walls. We watched Jackson sampling ingredients as he plated, smiling broadly. Once he tasted, frowned, then pitched that bag in the trash. "Candied fennel. Didn't work out."

A heavenly, lemony scent wafted from a bowl of fresh pasta, twisted tubes topped with shreds of braised rabbit, peas, and dollops of ricotta that had been soured with Meyer lemon juice and dressed with the reserved whey. I was so enraptured that I didn't put my fork down 'til the big bowl was empty (thus, no picture!).

Next came... hmmm. Pork with anchovies? Intensely meaty Iberican pork tenderloin held its own against the salty briny flavor, along with onions, capers, and radishes washed in a poussin demi-glace. "A marriage made in heaven," Jackson declared. "Surf and turf." I wasn't so certain; it made me think of those couples whose relationships seem to consist mostly of high volume and drama. A little too much excitement for my tastes.

Jackson handed us porcelain spoons, each holding a smooth brown sphere. "Chocolate fois gras salty ball," he intoned, gravely advising me to eat it in one bite. He cackled at my reaction when the ball popped like a balloon in my mouth, spilling liquid salty chocolate richness.

The cheese finally re-appeared. It was Manchego, and the warm bath hadn't softened it at all, just infused it with herbal flavors, with the added touch of a cherry reduction.

Our final course was startling: a gin cocktail and a Meyer lemon souffle. The Corpse Reviver, despite its name, was a softly fruity, floral drink. I admit a bias against souffles that don't contain chocolate, but this one was perfectly textured, pure lemon sweetness.






It was a roller coaster of a meal, but hugely enjoyable, and a fascinating glimpse of an original chef in his element.

Cuisine Contra + PinkLine Project = Valentine fun

Cuisine Contra
Mexican Cultural Center
Washington, DC

Valentine's Day has always left me cold. Too many expectations, too much drama. It's the worst night of the year to go out for dinner. (OK, maybe New Year's Eve is worse.) Diners in search of a romantic evening face crowds and overpriced prix-fixe menus.

Cuisine Contra's Valentine event was the perfect antidote to stale custom and saccharine sentiment. Grown-up but not fuddy-duddy. Zesty but not outré.

You have an idea that you're going to an interesting event when you're asked to submit, along with your payment, a story of a time that you tried to seduce someone. (If the stories were ever made public, it occurred late in the evening, after I left the event.)

We were in good hands when it came to the food. Top Chef contestant Mike Isabella, formerly of Zaytinya, was trying out dishes for his new restaurant, Graffiato, set to open this spring in Penn Quarter.

We sampled a homey pulled-chicken dish, cheesy grits, garlicky shrimp and a light creamy pasta. A charcuterie platter held thin slices of an intriguingly spiced meat that looked deceptively like bologna. A server claimed that the delicious beet salad contained chocolate; as in a Spanish mole sauce, the flavor was imperceptable. The sole concession to Valentine tradition, tiny cups of chocolate-hazelnut mousse, was sumptuous.

I lingered in the solarium/cafe, drawn by the cocktails made from St. Germain elderflower liquor and sparkling wine. There was a sleek and simple DIY photo booth, and books of romantic and erotic poetry on every table. When was the last time you went to a party where guests actually read aloud?

Cuisine Contra is part of the Pink Line Project, which describes itself as "a catalyst for the culturally curious" and a booster for the local arts scene.

The woman in the flowered skirt (chicken wire covered with paper flowers) was acting as Cupid. If you spotted an interesting stranger, she would deliver a message from you, along with a flower. If the targeted stranger was intrigued, s/he could meet the sender by searching for the person with a matching flower.

Speakers spark

What can you say in five minutes, and how would you say it?

Five minutes, 20 slides. That’s the premise of Ignite DC, a high-energy gathering of people with ideas and the courage to put them out in front of 300+ strangers

Ignite DC #6, held last week, had the flavor of a Tweetup and the velocity of a speed-dating event. Sixteen speakers each had 20 slides, which advanced automatically every 15 seconds.

Who were the speakers? Ignite’s Web site promised “artists, technologists, thinkers and personalities.” I heard from a marketing student and a life coach, a DJ and a policy analyst, an artist and a hacker, among others.

The evening’s organizers -- DC entrepreneur Jared Goralnick and public relations strategist and local blogging guru Geoff Livingston – kept the program moving. None of the 16 speakers went over their time, I noticed with admiration. Each presentation was focused, well paced and delivered with verve.

If your time is brief, an introduction with a catchy title creates a flurry of interest right at the start. Here are some of my favorites from the event:

- Why Jack Bauer Needs a Nap: He’d make better decisions if he could get out from under that 24-hour stress, which must be wreaking havoc on his mind and body. Life coach Alison Elissa made her point with humor and offered a gentle reminder to all.

- Heather Coleman titled her presentation simply “Help!” then grabbed our attention with her first sentence: “If you saw a naked woman running down the road, would you stop your car?” Any snickering stopped as she revealed that she had been that woman, in the grip of severe postpartum psychosis. Tragedy was averted only by a traffic jam and some helpful strangers.

- I Suffer from… FOMO: Right away, the listener wonders, what is FOMO? Should I be worried? FOMO is Fear Of Missing Out, Shana Glickfield opined in a cheerfully self-deprecating sketch. Glickfield, an online communications consultant, described overbooking herself, spending too much money, and stressing out friends and relatives in an attempt to avoid what she described as “the worst thing a person with FOMO can hear: `You should have been there!’”

Glickfield ended the program with laughter and a light-hearted reminder to look away from the screen once in a while, pay attention to the live world around you.

2941 for $20.11

2941
Falls Church, Va.

There's a fair amount of griping in the blogosphere about DC's annual Restaurant Week: the menus are uninspired, the crowds are annoying, the service is poor, the prices aren't that great. But I don't think anyone left 2941 dissatisfied last week, judging from the meal I enjoyed and the full house at a weekday lunch.

The chestnut velouté was the perfect starter on a bitterly cold day. Rich and slightly sweet, it could have been dessert, but for its garnish of savory sauteed mushrooms. Hidden beneath the mushrooms was "Armagnac custard," another sweetish note, a spoon-sized flan.

The other appetizer on the three-course set menu ($20.11 during Restaurant Week) was a colorful paté de compagne studded with chopped pistachios. My dining companion left no trace of it behind.

I wavered between the three entree choices. I rarely turn down scallops, and I almost ordered the lemon risotto just to see how it incorporated the bizarre citrus fruit called Buddha's hand. But in the end I chose a quintessential winter dish: quail wrapped in bacon, served with kale and white beans. It was a rich and comforting delight.









If I could have asked for seconds, I would have done so for the dessert. I nearly headed straight for the chocolate dacquoise, thinking that an Earl Grey pot de cremé might be too much of that distinctive bergamot flavor. But this dessert was sublime. I alternated bites of the perfectly smooth custard with the delicious walnut brioche bostock, like an airy madeleine.

The service was leisurely -- OK, it was slow. But I was savoring the last of my dessert, lingering with good friends over coffee, so you won't hear any complaints from me.

Beguiling Zola

Zola

800 F Street NW
Washington, DC

Perhaps it was Zola's location next door to the International Spy Museum, "where nothing is what it seems." Or maybe I was a little light-headed, as it was lunch time and I had not yet eaten that day. Somehow, I had no idea what I was actually ordering at Zola, yet my meal turned out remarkably well.

Perhaps chef Bryan Moscatello wants Zola diners to be caught off guard. Zola's menu underwent a "rejuvenation" in November, resulting in a prix-fixe evening menu, served in the Chef's Tasting Room, and an a la carte menu for the Bar Room, an "innovative bold American mix of casual and heartier fare." I was seated in the bar, an elegant, comfortable space with floor-to-ceiling windows.

When I chose the Baby Green appetizer, I was expecting a layered pastry structure filled with vegetables. The menu described the dish as "candied endive-pecan strudel, roast shallots, pomegranate vinaigrette." What I received was a salad, and I almost told the waiter that he'd made a mistake. But then I looked closer.

The "strudel" was actually a novel take on a crouton, nutty rich bundles of phyllo with a slightly sweet filling. The overall color of the salad was unfortunately brownish gray, rather like gravy, due to the thick dressing, but the roasted-shallot flavor was very tasty. Pomegranate seeds added welcome color and crunch, so important in a winter salad.

There was something for every taste in the bread basket. The pumpkin bread was flavorful but undistinguished. I preferred the chewy olive rolls and the spicy paper-thin seeded flatbread. (The little pyramid in the picture is butter, flavored with pink salt.)

As I ordered my entree, I managed to overlook both the term "orata" and the menu heading that clearly stated "fish and meat." All that registered was "sunchoke tortellini, lemon sabayon, spinach garlic chips," and I was looking for a plate of pasta. The tortellini did turn out to be the highlight of the dish, but I also enjoyed the nicely cooked fish and its rich and buttery broth, which was delicious with the spinach.

When the dessert menu appeared, I was tempted to order "peanut butter and jelly daggers," described as "mini air baguettes filled with peanut butter mousse and house made jam." Curious! Alas, I couldn't do any dessert justice that day.

The cocktail menu was alluring, too, featuring locally produced mixers such as almond-based orgeat syrup and cinnamon-infused Grenadine.

I plan to return some evening and investigate both menus further.

CSA week 8.5: Okra

Oh, my. It's fuzzy.

That was my reaction when I stuck my hand in the bag I'd brought home from the farmers' market. What had possessed me, to buy a bag of damp, soft, furry vegetables? I grew up in Ohio, for cryin' out loud; what do I know about okra?

But this recipe for Indian-spiced okra was calling. Specifically, it was saying, "Your mother is coming tomorrow for a week-long stay, and she doesn't want to eat okra, although she might fib and say she doesn't mind."

I made two changes to the recipe. I didn't have jalopenos, so I used two small banana peppers. I also added a white Asian eggplant that I forgot to put on the grill earlier in the week.

More forgetfulness: I didn't realize that half of the onion was supposed to be fried 'til crispy and reserved to garnish the top. I left the browned onions in the pan; added the paste made of pureed onions, garlic, peppers and spices; then put in the okra and eggplant with some water to cook for 10 minutes.

At this point, I noticed that there was no picture accompanying the recipe. The dish had a nice lemony, spicy aroma, but it looked rather muddy, despite the bright green okra. I kept waiting for okra's notorious slimy side to appear.

My final verdict: not bad. The okra was lemony and tender, not slimy (although I could see it heading that way if I'd cooked it any longer). The spice balance wasn't quite right -- I was rushing to get dinner on the table -- and it needed the zing that jalopenos would have provided.

I'll give okra another chance, but probably not with this dish.

CSA week 7: Succotash

There wasn't much cooking going on this week, as I cleaned out my fridge in the aftermath of a multi-day power outage.

After cooking dinner for friends one night, I had several ears of corn left over. This made me think of a delicious succotash I had once, made with fresh lima beans.

Limas can be pretty starchy, and I don't think much of them when they've been frozen. The fresh beans are a different matter. I sauteed chopped onion in olive oil, then added lightly steamed lima beans, minced garlic, the corn, and some farmstand tomatoes.

I modeled my succotash on this recipe from Epicurous. Topping the vegetables with slivered fresh basil was a nice touch. It made for a fresh-tasting side dish with grilled chicken and shrimp.

Not-so-fun fact: raw lima beans can be toxic! Lima beans are one of many plants that protect themselves from herbivores by storing a naturally occurring form of cyanide. Cooking the bean destroys the toxin.

Mussel Bar conquers Bethesda

Mussel Bar
Bethesda, Md.

The long-awaited Mussel Bar in Bethesda, Chef Robert Wiedmaier's latest venture, has been hopping from the start. A few weeks after opening, at 7 pm on a Friday night, there was an hour-long wait for a four-top, and they're not taking reservations.

Last Thursday at noon, however, there was no wait for a table. The gastropub's decor is dark and comfortable, with simple wooden booths, black and white photographs on the walls, and a sculptural metal light fixture adorned with beer bottles.

I was surprised to see Chef Wiedmaier himself -- at a weekday lunch service? -- intently surveying the dining room, occasionally stopping a waiter to examine a plate or alter his serving technique.

I don't normally drink beer at lunch, but I couldn't resist a citrusy, spicy Blanche de Bruxelles Belgian wheat beer. Just reading the Mussel Bar's beer menu is entertaining: Delirium Tremens, Gouden Carolus Hopsinjoor, Ommegang Hennepin, Corsendonk Agnus Dei, Allagash Curieux, Unibroue La Terrible.

The mussels were so fresh, sweet and briny that I ate more than I intended. The "classic" broth of roasted garlic, shallots and sauvignon blanc was worthy of sopping with bread or frites.

The frites were good, not great. They arrived wrapped in a paper cone, in the same specialized metal server that I remembered from Brasserie Beck. There were holders for three types of mayonnaise for dipping, but our server contained only one. (By the time I noticed this, there were too few frites left to make it worth mentioning.)

The most eye-opening dish was this salad of roasted beets with grapefruit, cumin-spiced yogurt, preserved lemon and golden raisins. The mingling of earthy, tart and sweet flavors was incredible, first bite to last.

I'd happily return to have that salad all to myself and try another Belgian witbeer. I'd also have another go at the mussels; imagine red Indonesian curry with peanut essence, or grilled pineapple with sweet chili garlic. The pizzas coming out of the wood-fired oven also looked like fitting accompaniment to a good beer.

CSA week 6: Rainbow chard

Photo by Strata R. Chalup, My Bay Area Garden

A refrigerator drawer full of vegetables, and what did I do? Bought some more!

I was shopping at MOM'S Organic Market for a few things I can't find anywhere else, and I was attracted by some beautiful rainbow chard. It looked so bright and fresh that I picked it up, even though I wasn't sure what I'd do with it.

I turned to Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, a great resource for simple, appealing recipes. There was a dish of braised chard with cilantro, and I followed its lead, even though I had no cilantro. I liked that that the recipe called for dicing and slow-cooking the colorful stems along with the sturdy leaves. Some little onions and garlic from the CSA went in the pot too, along with... paprika? Hmm.

After 45 minutes on low heat, the stems were tender and the greens had cooked down yet still had some texture. "The chard should be silky and very fragrant," Madison says. Not sure I quite achieved that, but it was hearty and tasty with some steamed new potatoes.

I learned that chard is a type of beet, chosen for its leafiness rather than its ability to grow tasty roots. Chard provides lots of vitamin A as well as calcium, iron, magnesium, phosphorus and potassium.

Next time, I think I'd try wilting the greens after sauteing the stems in olive oil. Maybe that would preserve some of the stems' brilliant color.

CSA week 5: Purslane

For our holiday weekend barbeque, I wanted to feature summer vegetables alongside the grilled chicken, and I was determined to find a way to use two weeks' worth of purslane.

I've decided that Wikipedia is not a great source for culinary inspiration. Here I learned that purslane is "considered a weed in the US" and is known for its "musilaginous" quality, as a thickener for soups and stews.

On the positive side, however, it has more omega-3 fatty acids than any other green leafy vegetable, and it's a good source of vitamins A, C, E, as well as iron, calcium and potassium. The raw leaves taste like watercress, but less peppery and more lemony.

This recipe for purslane-potato salad suited my menu, and allowed me to use Yukon Gold potatoes and cucumber from this week's CSA share. I prefer vinaigrette to mayonnaise-based potato salads, and a light dressing of olive oil and lemon juice complemented the purslane nicely.






This summer vegetable gratin did a lot to raise the profile of zucchini in my house. (A teenage visitor who reportedly does not like cooked tomatoes ate two large helpings.)

Baked zucchini can turn into soupy glop, but this recipe called for salting and draining the sliced tomatoes and zucchini before assembling the dish. The result was juicy, but not watery.

There's a layer of caramelized onion between the zucchini and tomatoes, which really enriched the flavor. It's topped with Parmesan bread crumbs, and some chopped fresh basil added after baking.

CSA week 4: Fava beans

It's Wednesday, and that means it's time to clear out the produce drawer before the next CSA share arrives. Fava beans, garlic scapes, spring onions, chard...

Preparing the fava beans was an interesting process. I was fascinated by the fuzzy white inner lining of the pods: nature's perfect packing material, and it's compostable!

I may have boiled the beans a little too long; removing the outer husk squished some of the beans and split others in half. The beans had a bright, fresh flavor that was sweet like garden peas, only stronger. (Later, I learned that fava beans actually belong to the pea family.)

My smallish bunch of young chard looked a little wobegone and wilted, but I went ahead and sliced it, separating the leaves and stems. I chopped up garlic scapes and sauteed them in olive oil with the chard stems, then added the chard leaves, onions, and a couple of shakes of crushed red pepper.

The chard smelled great. The greens cooked down quite a bit, but adding the beans made a fairly substantial plate, with an ear of corn on the side. Next time, I'd skip the onion; I preferred the flavor of the garlic with the chard.

Fava beans -- also called broad beans, windsor beans, horse beans and pigeon beans -- are a good source of fiber, protein (1 cup = 12g), and folate.

While learning about fava beans, I stumbled upon Chef In You, a blog filled with vegetarian recipes and lovely pictures of fava beans in all the stages of shelling and cooking.

Spring Poste

Poste
555 8th St NW @ Hotel Monaco
Washington, DC

Chef Rob Weland of Poste urges visitors to "eat simply and elegantly," and on a recent weeknight visit we did just that. The simplicity of the meal lay in the freshness of its seasonal ingredients. I wouldn't call these dishes simple, though.

My first course was a chilled soup of English peas and nettles, topped with sheep's milk yogurt "sorbet" and tiny crispy lardo croutons. Anyone who thinks peas are bland would be startled by the intense flavors of this soup. It was springtime in a spoon.

I hesitated to order rabbit -- for some reason, I think of this ingredient, of any braised meat, as cold-weather fare. But I was intrigued by the accompaniments, and the result was a happy combination.

The rabbit was braised in red wine and served with caramelized fennel, poppy-seed tagliatelle, and hen-of-the-woods mushrooms. The fennel was a revelation, and the poppy seed was a striking counterpoint to the rabbit. The crispy roasted mushrooms were practically addictive.

I took tiny bites of everything on my plate, trying to make it last longer. I also enjoyed a taste of the buttery asparagus carbonara, with white and green asparagus and lightly charred ramps.

Chef Weland offers farm-market dinners on Thursdays through the summer and fall. Guests accompany Weland to the Freshfarm Market in Penn Quarter and select ingredients for that night's five-course tasting menu. They might also tour the restaurant's on-site organic garden.

Sounds like a good excuse to check out a new farmers' market. Or maybe I'll get a group of friends together for the Poste Roast, a family-style meal served in the garden and highlighting meat and fish spit-roasted over an open fire.

CSA week 3: Escarole

I was starting from scratch with escarole: a large leafy head, and no idea how to prepare it.

Escarole looks like romaine, but it's a type of endive, broad-leafed and a little bitter. I knew I wanted to cook it, finding it too sharp as a raw salad.

My mom recalled a Rachel Ray recipe for escarole with lemon bread crumbs. I've never watched Ray's TV show or tried any of her recipes. But this recipe's combination of lemon and olive oil, with a touch of honey to "mellow" the greens, sounded intriguing.

I sliced the escarole into ribbons and wilted it in a large skillet, with olive oil, salt and freshly ground pepper. Next I simmered the greens for just a few minutes in chicken broth and a touch of honey. (I used much less broth than the recipe called for, noting several reviews that deemed the dish too soupy.)

The cooked greens are topped with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a mixture of butter-browned bread crumbs, lemon zest, and minced spring onions (also from my CSA share).

The flavors of honey and lemon blunted the bitterness of the greens and made for a great combination. I was a little disappointed that my big pan of escarole cooked down to a shallow soup bowl. Here's hoping for more escarole this week!

CSA weeks 1 & 2: Lamb's-quarters

For the first time in several years, our family is staying in the DC area for the summer, and I'm participating in community sponsored agriculture -- a CSA. For a flat fee at the beginning of the summer, I get a weekly share of the farm's harvest, a grocery bag full of fresh vegetables, eggs and fruit.

I like that I know where my vegetables were grown (on Allan Balliett's farm, near Shepherdstown, WV), that they are grown biodynamically, and that they were harvested the same day I receive them.

Fresh & Local CSA's Web site promises "over 150 varieties of vegetables, fruits and herbs" in the course of the season, but I was still surprised by the quantity and diversity in the market bag when it was all spread out before m.

There were spring onions and shallots, fava beans, purslane, lamb's-quarters, chard, escarole, heirloom lettuce (Simpson), mixed baby greens, and basil. What to do with this bounty?

I had to go online and find images to identify the purslane and lamb's-quarters. I learned that lamb's-quarters is also known as pigweed, dungweed, or goosefoot. This did not immediately inspire me to start cooking.

Some online sources recommend using tender young lamb's-quarters in salads. I tasted a raw leaf and found it weedy and unappealing. It had a flavor like the smell of a fresh-cut lawn.

Several recipes treated lamb's-quarters like spinach. I took spring onion and garlic scapes from the market bag, minced them and sauteed them in olive oil. I found a yellow bell pepper in the fridge that needed to be cooked, so I diced some of that and tossed it in the pan, mostly for the color contrast.

The lamb's quarters took a little longer to wilt in the pan than spinach would, and it didn't cook down quite as much. I served it with some leftover grilled chicken breast and steamed rice. Cooking mellowed the greens nicely.

According to my favorite veggie cookbook -- "Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone," by Deborah Madison -- lamb's-quarters is an excellent source of beta carotene and antioxidant vitamins C & E. I would continue to use it as an occasional alternative to spinach.

Sips & small plates @ Sei

Sei
444 7th Street NW
Washington, DC

Sei was glowing and glamorous on a cold winter night. The decor is all warm and creamy whites, with touches of red. Candlelight looked especially good on this space.

Curiosity made me order a cocktail called Hello Kitty: vanilla vodka, St. Germain elderflower liquor, muddled lemon and orange, and hibiscus "bubbles." The list of ingredients sounds overly perfumed, but the drink was unusual and not too sweet. Another time, I would try the Japanese whiskey sour made with five-spice-infused syrup.

Several of the more attention-getting items on the menu were not available that night, probably because the city was still digging out from Snowmagedden 2010. I wanted to try the foie gras sushi with daikon, teriyaki berry glaze, and yuzu; the sea-bass sliders with apricot-chili glaze and yuzu slaw; and a few of the more unusual sushi rolls, but as I named each one, the waiter shook his head, and it became almost a joke between us.

We started with toro tartar (sic), with wasabi guacamole, salmon roe, and lemon soy espuma. It turned out to be something like a briny Mexican seven layer dip, scooped with crispy wontons.

I ordered pork buns expecting to get the fluffy white steamed type, but I was happy with a plate of flaky pastries, stuffed with richly flavored meat. The Kobe beef sliders with tomato jam and tempura onion rings were good, but not too far from what you might get at an upscale happy hour.

The "snow white roll" -- eel, avocado, roasted apple, sweet soy and sansho (Szechuan pepper) -- had no discernible apple flavor, just a mild sweetness that suited the eel. Other dishes -- a hand roll made from a wasabi crepe and duck confit -- and the sauteed shrimp were satisfying but not distinctive.

I would go to Sei again if I was looking for an unusual cocktail and some interesting tapas, Asian style. It was a good setting for a sophisticated, pre-theater dinner date.

Women in science: Dorothy Crowfoot Hodgkin

Dorothy Mary Crowfoot Hodgkin with insulin model.
About.com: Chemistry

Dorothy Crowfoot Hodgkin (1910-1994) was a founder of protein crystallography.

Hodgkin and her mentor, J.D. Bernal, were the first to successfully apply X-ray diffraction to biological crystals. She identified the structures of cholesterol, lactoglobulin, ferritin, tobacco mosaic virus, penicillin, and vitamin B-12. She also described the structure of insulin in 1969, a problem on which she worked for 34 years.

Hodgkin received the Nobel Prize in chemistry in 1964 for her work on vitamin B-12. Her biography on this Nobel Prize Web site notes, "By choosing projects others considered impossible, she helped to establish one of the characteristic features of contemporary science: the use of molecular structure to explain biological function."

This post was created to mark the second annual Ada Lovelace Day, an international day of blogging to celebrate the achievements of women in technology and science. Read more about Ada Lovelace Day and women in science here.

Gung Hay Fat Choy!

Tony Lin's Restaurant
12015 Rockville Pike
Rockville, Md.

Some good friends invited us to a celebration of Chinese New Year this weekend, welcoming the Year of the Tiger. We met at Tony Lin's Restaurant in Rockville.

Here is my favorite of the nine courses: lobster with ginger and scallion. It was a little heavy on the ginger, but that didn't stop my from eating my share (and then some).



I'd never seen this type of seafood soup before. At first, we thought we were getting cups of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows! It was a clear, slightly thickened broth, with diced carrot, peas and seafood bits under a fluffy layer of cooked egg whites.










This plate of "cold appetizers" (room temperature, really) included beef that tasted of five-spice powder, various vegetables, and something that may have been spiced tendon. (Even our hosts weren't sure.)

Platters of black pepper steak, steamed whole fish, and Peking duck were in nearly constant motion from the moment they landed on the center turntable. The duck had plenty of properly crispy, burnished skin. The beef had an interesting sweetish charcoal flavor, which one diner compared to the tasty char on the outside of a campfire-toasted marshmallow.



"Chef's bean curd" wasn't the most photogenic dish, but it was satisfying. The tofu was delicately fried, light inside and not too spongy. It went well with the Chinese broccoli underneath and the rich chunks of crabmeat in white sauce.

Two more dishes, meaty Young Chow fried rice and an assortment of stir-fried vegetables, completed the savory courses.







With a fresh fruit platter came baked sesame buns filled with red bean paste and this "eight treasure rice," a traditional New Year's dish. It is made from glutinous rice steamed and mixed with lard, sugar, and eight kinds of fruits or nuts. To this Western-oriented palate, it was only slightly sweet.

Tony Lin's has two menus, one of which is labeled "authentic Chinese." I spotted dishes described as "smelt with peanuts," "pork tripe in red hot sauce," "spicy sliced conch," and "preserved turnip with egg." There's certainly plenty to explore here.

Spaghetti & meatballs for dessert

IndeBleu
707 G St. NW
Washington, DC

Indebleu gets you talking about your food, and the conversation won't be dull.

When my friend insisted that we have spaghetti and meatballs for dessert -- at an Indian-French fusion restaurant? -- I figured it was a typo in her e-mail. Not at all. The server brought a potato ricer to our table and held it over a plate. The product looked like pasta, but it was saffron-cardamom ice cream, delicious with the gulab jamun "meatballs," donut balls in a not-too-sweet syrup. Next time, I'm not sharing!

We swooned over the sauteed fois gras topped with chocolate and served on brioche with a port-wine reduction. Imagine the richest chocolate croissant you've ever had, but meaty. (I will not be sharing this one, either.)

I didn't catch the name of the co-owner, a cheerful woman who stopped to ask if we were enjoying our meal, but I flagged her down the next time she passed so that I could rave about the spring-mushroom pasta with English peas, crispy greens and a bit of curry. I think I said something like, "This is what all pasta aspires to be." I can't remember the last time that a bite of pasta cleared my mind of all coherent thoughts other than "ummmm."

Some of the more exotic-sounding dishes (snow pea nest, curried shrimp fries) were tasty but not stand-outs. Half of the dinner menu was small plates, encouraging experimentation.

I'm trying to imagine "duck chili relleno," a chili pepper stuffed with duck confit, spinach and queso fresco, topped with basil vermouth cream and sherried cashews. I'm not certain that the chef can achieve fusion here, but I'd be willing to give it a chance.