I just had TJ's onion soup. Remind me never to do that again. It is made largely of salt. The ingredient list onions, and broth, but mainly it's all salt.
Why would someone who idolizes cookbook authors eat such crap? Because of a chronic case of lethargia, brought on largely by a case of Los Angeles. This town does not inspire to cook. Or perhaps it's the LA kitchen? Or the fact that it is still too warm to embrace winters soups and stews, but the tomatoes don't taste like anything anymore either.
This w-e, as I lay in bed waging war against the flu, the one bright spot was the arrival of the NYT on Sunday. It's not just about the x-word puzzle (although it is largely about that) - I always (mostly) enjoy the food essay in the magazine.
This week's essay was about the return of a retro appetizer - the bagna cauda. Not only do I LOVE bagna cauda, it also reminds me of one of this summer's dinners in Oregon, and it reminds me of my Oregon mama Joanie who told me how to make it and what pot to use and what best to dip into it.
Bagna cauda uses three of my favorite ingredients: butter, anchovies and garlic, and my other boyfriend - olive oil. Mix those four together and you have the mother of silky smooth baths of savory yumminess, which I am pretty sure is the literal translation of 'bagna cauda'.
I made it for a dinner party we had this summer - 4 people plus us, and I had never met them before. The bagna cauda and a big plate of sliced crusty bread, chiogga beets and fennel and we were all fast friends by the time we were scraping the garlicky anchovies off the bottom of the pot.
That an a couple of bottles of bubbly made for the perfect introduction on a perfect Oregon summer's evening, the perfect memory of which will hopefully carry me away from the salty TJ's experience I am laboring to digest.
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