......so many roads.

Time to come back to the place we always were at.  How clouds of sadness and such seem to hide, cover up, and distort the basic truths of life.  There is good, there is light, there is laughter and joy.  We need to look for and strive to find it I think.  This is one way that I relate to the world.  Food is good, cooking is good, and it relates to us all.  It binds us, it comforts, it heals, it nourishes, and it finds us in the light and in deep, dark places. 

I can not and will not let all that is dark distract me from the pure joy of cooking any longer.  It is time for a return to the kitchen and a true return to cooking.  As Brennan put it so well, it is time for something simple.  There is a common denominator that has bonded myself to the Pickren brothers and it is food in it's stripped down, true form.  Really and truly, we were too young, stupid, and green when we first started our twisted relationship to see anything other than food and the business as raw, bare bones product and potential.  We got caught up in it.  We got clouded.  We worked too many hours.  The faces and breathes of those too near and dear are not familiar enough. Not constant.  We saw many sides of this thing, this beast that is hotel/FnB/restaurants.  I think and hope we are better people for it.  But here we are searching for.......what? 

I am in a food town.  I have wandered an amazing food market, but I do not belong here. 

         Perhaps it is life's challenge to bring that which I know of to where it is not?  How contrived is that?  Very....look, very bottom line truths here.   I have talked a lot of trash about the town I live in and it's food culture but no where in my self absorbed rants did I ever try or think to try to do anything about it.  It's a specialty of mine.  Selective judgement from a pedestal of apathy.  Love to criticize, never feel much like doing anything about it.  

      But what do mine eyes see on yonder horizon?  Could it truly be that we are back? 

Crazy that we started this blog to get our name out, relieve stress, rant about nonsense-mostly me, but all of it across miles or hundreds of them.  We have been given the rare opportunity to come back home where we first met, regroup, and go onward.  I see better than to take that which we know and throw it out in a vast variety of ways.  Foodbros @ ur next county fair or festival or street corner.  Time to take the food I believe we know so well and bring it to the people.

So, on a real level, here's what's happened.  I went to the Dekalb Farmer's market outside of Atlanta.  For those of you like me who don't know better, in Georgia, the "L" is silent.  Maybe it's me but if I wanted to say De-kayb, I would spell it as such.  Anywhoo, this place rocks but no pics are allowed.  Food network or some equivalent made them feel to big for their britches me thinks.  But it is pretty cool comparatively speaking.  Seafood and proteins aside, the produce, asian specific, along with spices and dry goods is pretty impressive.  Honestly, the isles of spices, flours, legumes and their pack sizes at this place make me kinda in need of a shower and a cigarette after I'm done.  Too much stimulation and culinary possibility at the risk of..no wait, I've already gone gross with this.  A beautiful assortment of habaneros, chipotles,  Garam Masala, Tandoori Masala, Poonjabi Masala, Cocoa Nibs, and Sechewan peppercorns all for less than $2 for a 2 oz. container.  

I have made a valiant effort to keep my posts clean.  I did otherwise a year ago because it seemed funny, rebellious.  I come off sounding like Sir Lancelot defending some maiden.  It's made me more of a douche I think.  But here and now I have to cut down to the brass and say that it has been a pretty shitty end of 2010 and beginning to 2011.  I want and demand better for us all, those of you who I know well and those who I know not.  Happy thoughts people and happy cooking. 

Pyk

Coming to an Ocean Grill near you.....

Atlanta.......

In Atlanta.   My brother and sister-in-law live miles from a jealous for life, farmer's market.  A famous one.  I have spices to bring home and happy thoughts for my niece to be.  Lucky man Kevin.  For food access and from what I see from the baby bump and her mom, one beautiful and healthy baby girl.  We will be back.  Don't think for a second that I am not already planning her 1st tasting menu.  Gerber has nothing on my soft foods. 
To yonder faithful foodbros followers however few and far between, I am mid-post.  Thanks for continuing to check us out these last many months.  There is a 14 course dinner and lots of posts about such along with invites coming soon......ps......we invite who we think we want.  If you want to come to a 14 course tasting for a meager charge comment back and get a seat.  We swears on the precious.

P.P.S.  Umphreys McGee, where have u been my whole life?

Livin the dream

Driving by this on my way to work everyday doesn't help with my nonsensical urge to drop everything, invest in a really good smoker and a couple hundred pounds of pork and just start selling bar be que for a living. Forget shmoozing guests, sitting in meeting, or trying to manage a staff. Just commit yourself to doing one thing as good as you can possibly do it. I love the time and care it takes to do good bbq. The brining, the rub, the smell of smoke that stays on your cloths for about a week. It's more than just slapping KC masterpiece on a piece of chicken half way through cooking in on your gas grill(although that's probably delicious, but in my opinion, not real bbq). One day. One day one of us will take the risk of doing our own thing. Whether it's Chris, Mike or myself, it will be an exciting time. Until next time, Dream Big....

Greg,

We miss you brother. You loved food, laughter and good times. You appreciated everyone for who they were and what they did. The world was a better place with you here. You made a huge impact on our lives and you'll always be in our hearts.

......

Me and my big mouth strike again.  I go through phases, periods of slack, then decide to come out of hiding again.  Mostly those 1st attempts are nonsense like my last post.  I said we were back.  We are in a sense but life, tragedy, and the trials of all that can be thrown by all that Is, has swept up a truly amazing, selfless, and undeserving group of people off of their feet for months now.  This last tragedy was so sudden, so unfair.  A good man is gone, some joy, and profound source of laughter has left this world which is eternal in it's saddness.  I am truly sorry and wish his wife and family my deepest condolences.  But a small favor....Greg, please watch over Keller and tell him stories of his incredible family.  Show him to laugh.
Food talk, happy talk, something positive soon to come I hope.

Big Flats forever....

How strange is the day and long since the hours found refuge for my weary, burdensom soul.  This is real to me, was real anyhow.  I went on an awesome vacation with my wife and friends.  I got sick.  A host of nasty bugs prodded at me and my bits.  I went delirious at some moment through fits of ocean swells both external and those rocking my inner shores from end to end.  It sucked.  I felt like a bitch.  I was without relief, without end. 
But it was fun.  I spent the 1st night watching the waves break through moonlight while those I traveled with slept.  Before the party.  I took my wife to see the waves break.  We saw the Bahamas and Barry's daquiris, a strip mall with cheap booze, the bahamas version of Subway, moonshine, Half Moon Cay, and how difficult it is to serve 1000 people hot food in one seating.
It was an escape from it all.  I feel like a douche that it was not more memorable of one.  How interesting to serve 2000 people from a floating, moving hotel.  How bizarre the constraints.  Even water consumption, waste, storage, holding...what a nightmare. 
We're back.  Food Bros I mean.  Slowly.  It's funny how the cold that has raped the nation has slowed our collective skull to an output of mouse farts at best.  But things are happening.  Not to the degree that I say they will because I never live up to that which I say cause I'm a lazy person of massive sucking but we shalt try. 
I miss cooking with my brothers.  I miss cooking in general.  I miss Chris. more to come.  be good.... Go valentine's day......

"Cheese- Milk's leap towards immortality"~Clifton Fadiman

Inspired by Mike's quest for cheese making and my need to think about something other than work for a while(starting to feel more like and peace keeper and a babysitter than a chef), I've decided to explore the craft a little myself. After doing a little research, I've found that yogurt can be a subsitute for thermophilic cultures and buttermilk, which I've used before to make farmer's cheese, can be used as a mesophilic culture. With the help of some rennet that Mike gave me, a candy thermometer, cheesecloth, a block of wax and Courtney's little knee high fridge out in the garage(covered in Pittsburge Steeler's flair. It's now been set to a temperature of 55 degrees), maybe I can make something that both doesn't suck and won't kill me either.

My green thumb at work

Barbuto New York - Italian Restaurant in Greenwich Village | Savory Cities

Barbuto New York - Italian Restaurant in Greenwich Village Savory Cities

Thought you guys would be interested in this website if you didn't already know about it.

Hungry santas and Burning Spear...

So, I've been sitting here waiting for Burning Spear to download to my itunes and took the opportunity to look through pictures.  I done got some cool NYC restaurant pics to continue to blog about.  There is this awesome restaurant called Ippudo, a Ramen bar.  It's become a weekly staple in our house ever since december.  A fantastic winter substitute for Pho.  One of the servers @ work has a chicken coop in her backyard so a great bowl of Ramen with poached and soy sauce hard boiled farm/backyard fresh eggs has been sustaining us over these last many cold weeks.  Very cool.  Come spring I'm gonna try to convince her to sell me one of the chickens.  Their eggs are beautiful Easter egg shades and have yolks that taste of minerally, buttery, good earth. 
I hope everyone's holiday season was peaceful and full of some inner joy.  I cooked for my family in Boca xmas day as my gift and cause my mom has not really seen what I do since.....culinary school maybe.  It was fun.  I had problems with heat and made a couple poor decisions but I learned a lot so it was as much a gift to me as those who ate.  My sister in law is vegetarian and carrying my niece to be so I had to adapt in menu planning.  The cool thing being, I've taken to more vegetarian and vegan practices @ the restaurant ever since.  I honestly find that sometimes meats and even butter and cream dull the flavors of vegetables or at least confuse them.  It's not always fitting to wrap a ball of sunshine in bacon or send it scuba diving in a sea of butter .  
That's about it I guess.  Frogs are up next.  Till next time.....be good.

Sad frogs in Chinatown....i poured out some PBR in memory of these homies....

next....

I've stared at this blank page for weeks and no where in my thoughts is any beginning or really any cohesive track to attempt to run along.  I was not yet certain what I wanted to say.  All words came out seeming like a book report or Cheech and Chong's "how I spent my summer vacation" bit.  So the irony is that I figure I'll write about how I don't know what to write about. 
I literally ate or thought about eating nonstop for 5 days in NYC.  It's out of my norm.  I work around food all day but rarely go near it for my own sustenance.  Maybe past midnight, I'll get the urge to graze the finely tilled pastures of my deli drawer or the botanical garden of wonder which is my freezer of assorted Manhattan bagels.  But I did eat there, a lot.  I think I freaked out my mother-in-law and sister a bit by my food obsession.  I guess you would have to live with me, or work with me to see that my days are not filled with consumption until all lights go out and silence or background murmurs of my choosing fill the world. 
But on those 5 days, I quested to eat until I could eat no more.  There is a canvas painted in the recesses of my mind that has still only sploches of color.  In New York, I can help fill it in as well as introduce colors I never saw before.  I guess I was waiting to see what the picture had morphed into until I was ready to talk about it. 
It still makes no sense.  I came back from NYC and became obsessed with root vegg.  Turnips, rutabega, celery root, parsnips.  Guess I picked up some seasonality or the shift in ingredients subconsciously.  Or maybe it was just the cold that turned the keeper in my belly to light a fire on those winter vegetables.  The more I think about it,  maybe it was the cold.....maybe Marc Forgione. 
His place did something to me.  Waxman too.  Jonathan Waxman's Barbuto made me laugh.  We had sunday brunch.  It was unflinchingly and unapologetically simple.  Mismatched tables and chairs, painted yellow brick, and in my mind's eye, a kitchen resembling a larger extension of the one in Waxman's own home.  The brunch was rustic.  The pizza of pancetta, Romano, and cracked eggs beautiful.  The roasted chicken exactly that.  Half a Jurassic sized bird with salsa verde.  I was so full by sunday, I barely got through the pizza but I tasted all I needed to with the help of a uniquely inspired bloody mary.  I have to go back for dinner.....I have to meet the man.
Forgione was a new level for me.  A chalkboard out front congratulating the man for becoming the new iron chef.  Windows boasting warmth through subtle candle light.  Rooms of turn of the century wooden beams, a shelf of treasured relics, and seemingly floating candles everywhere.  His food was unabashed in it's straightforward simplicity through playful twists and underlying complexity.  His take on a Bahn Mi first confused, then surprised, then embarrassed, then made me jealous to the point of hating the man.  A piece of snapper sauteed against a thin slice of baguette over a pumpkin broth.  It was bland.  The crisp baguette seared to the fish was brilliant.  It was not until I got into the dish that I found the Thai sausage and pickled vegg. underneath.  They added all i could have asked for and then some.  The server heard my initial remark "bland broth," and came back to check in.  I discounted my stupidity and as our sever walked away, I mumbled to becca how much I hated this man for creating something so good before I thought of it first .
I went for one last walk the night before we left New York.  I wasn't hungry but I went out anyways.  It was almost 2am.  I wrote some words here before that last walk.  I still sense the pavement, the hum, the sound, and feel of the city.  I hope to go back soon.  I hope that you have a place that gives you as much joy and intrigue and learning as I find in the big city.  And I hope that everyone who reads this gets to taste a real bagel.  They are truly an embrace of food majesty.  Lastly, I asked my sister to bring me a 2 liter of NYC tap water to cook with and drink along with an arsenal of bagels.  Thanks Emily, you made my Christmas!!
There's more but later.  Until then, be good to each other...

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Santa Claus or The Jesus Character from South Park? You be the judge.
From left to right:
Smoked, fennel crusted sausage, tasso ham, Chorizo stuffed date wrapped in bacon, Okinawan yam custard with orange caviar, farmer's cheese dressed with fresh thyme and black truffle, organic honey comb, Humbolt Fog

1/2 gallon whole milk

1 cup butter milk

2 tbsp. white vinegar

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1 tsp. honey blossom vinegar

salt and pepper

Bring the milk up to a simmer. Add the vinegar and buttermilk and stir vigorously. Stop stirring and let the curds settle at the surface. Turn off the heat and let it rest for 10 minutes to allow the curds to fully seperate from the whey. Skim the curds from the top and strain through a china cap with cheese cloth. After about an hour, pour the curds out into a bowl and season with sea salt, cracked pepper, extra virgin olive oil and honey blossom vinegar. Wrap the cheese loosely and press it flat with a hotel pan overnight(poke holes in the plastic to release any air).

5 lbs pork loin cut into small chunks(including some of the cap)

2 lbs. applewood bacon cut into small chunks

1/4 cup toasted fennel seed

2 tbsp. cracked black pepper

1 tbsp. dried sage

Put all of the meat and grinding utensils in the freezer for 1 hour. Grind all of the pork while adding the spices and salt gradually. Test a small piece and adjust with seasoning. Shape the sausage with plastic wrap and steam for 45 minutes. Remove the sausage from the plastic and roll it in chopped fennel and black pepper. Smoke the sausage for 2 hours with cherry wood.

10 oranges(juiced)

2 tbsp yuzu juice

1/4 cup sugar

8 sheets of gelatin(bloomed)

2 qts. of grapeseed oil in a tall, thin bain marie(in a large bowl that's surrounded by ice and in the freezer)

Bring the orange, yuzu, and to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and dissolve the gelatin into the liquid. Allow the liquid to cool to room temperature and transfer it into a small squeeze bottle. Drip the liquid out slowly into the bath of cold oil. It should be cold enough to gel the liquid before it hits the bottom of the bain.

Past, Present, Future

Smoked sausage and tasso ham, Okinowan yam custard with orange caviar, Farmers cheese crusted with rosemary, black pepper and sea salt.

Faced with the task of creating the future part of Amelia Island's new signature amenity which I interpret as being a mix of new technique and older crafts such as charcuterie and cheeses, I came up with this dish and it was well recieved. Although the panna cotta style custard is nothing futuristic, spherification is something still something being experimented with. Even if it is probably the most basic method(the agar, oil method or in my case the gelatin, oil method). Chris will have to school me on some of the more complex ways of doing it. As for the sausage and cheese, we're trying create an identity for the plantation. One that embraces the new techniques but also respects and practices the age old crafts that have been around for years. More to come as we progress.

Meat Glue Mania | Lecture 10

you know.....im not trying to beat people over the head with this stuff, but come on.......if you care about cooking this should interest you......

It's been a week and no words have come, I know.  I even made a play date with a legal pad and some quiet corner but alas, nada.  People keep asking me what the best part/meal of NYC was and my only response is that I don't know.  I need to think on it and write and see what happens.  All things are eventual or so says Stephen King.  I'm out of excuses not to write so soon I hope.  It's cold out, late night TV sucks so soon I hope.  Nightly night...

reflection and words to come...

Monday Dec. 6th, 2am.  Back home on the couch, reeling from barely being back from NYC and the cold an hour.  When we stepped off the plane and into the Florida air, now colder than Manhattan, an airline worker joked "welcome to New York!"   
Only if....it's great to be home but I miss the noise and the pulse.  I sat down to unwind, debate eating the other half of a corned beef and pastrami from Lansky's on the upper west side, debate how many bagels to freeze, and try and put down a few words before returning to the grind.  The only real thought I have to express right now is that I have a LOT to write about.  It would be a disservice and injustice for me not to put all I saw and felt and tasted into words.  At the risk of sounding selfish, it's as much if not more for me than you, the reader.  I can not and will not forget food memories so significant.  Everytime I come back from NYC, I feel different.  It is my test kitchen, my role model, my inspiration.  It makes me a better cook.  It makes me a better person I think.  I hope, I hope. 
A simple walk through a meat market in Chinatown, 10 minutes of one day, changed me.  I can't say how, not right now at least but it did.  The crazy American snapping pictures, giggling to himself, wide eyed with delight.  But I did not feel awkward or unwelcome.  Respect, admiration, and childlike wonderment breaks down cultural and liguistic barriers.  I gotta post pictures of the vats of live frogs and eels. 
Ok, lots of writing to do.  It might take a few days but the food chronicles will be up here soon enough.  Anyone that wants to start up the Send Food Bros To Take Over NYC fund, please do.  I am eager to share a meal with my brothers in food.  Till next time.....

....rounding the last curve....

and I can't believe I ate the whole thing. 
I begin this post in the middle of a sentence to emphasize the feeling in my gut as we speak.  There is so much in my mind, my being, it's a jumbled mess.  With every bite of every dish of every meal, I replenished some depleted depth of my belly and some deeper, richer place.  It has left me full, overstuffed, confused, scared....to a place of joyous possibility, speculation, and wonder.  I can't consciously form a thought about any of it.  Two nights ago I wrote a full page and had to delete/throw it into a dungeon of attempts at free verse that never go anywhere.  I am still going no where.  This post has no cohesion other than the fact that it will have a beginning of sorts, an end, and the conclusion that our weekend of excess is approaching it's final destination. 
It's 1 am, I have no more room but I am about to venture back out for one last taste.  A simple gyro means more than the sum of it's parts.  The streets are quiet of the normal human chatter but the truth of the street is fully alive and pulsing.  The subconscious hum is beckoning me to walk a thousand blocks, the chilly whisper of a thousand voices past, the subtle vibration of feet too many to count passing under my own.  I am a confused mess by the underlying possibilities of this city, a place so full of unabashed culture and pride for such.  It is so real to me.  I hope I won't forget that.  It is so easy to forget.  I only wear closed toed shoes by choice once a year and my feet feel it.  I wish the rest of my senses could keep such a close fossil memory. If and only if a certain sight, smell, or sound could bring me back here to where food changes me so much.  Good night and till next time...

Marathon day

Union Square Market, Taco truck lunch, hotel beers, Marc Forgione, hotel beers, Momofuku....3am full and tired.  Sorry, words later.

"nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity. ~Voltaire

Pork belly fried with it's own cracklins with pickled apples and pink peppercorn crusted goat cheese

Seared tuna with grape vinaigrette, toasted nuts and feta cheese

This was our first night eating at Tamasso during a short getaway a couple of weeks ago. Chris did five coarses for us but we only got to pictures that did his food justice. Beautiful presentation, great flavor combinations with paired wines and we loved the atmosphere. Thanks for treating us to a much needed, soul satifying meal.

WD 50

WD50.  Pictures, yup that's it.  2:30 and I need to think about this one a bit.  Stew actually.  Details.  Well let me say this.  One clear miss, a few major hits.  The single best piece of meat I may have ever eaten.  But I'm coflicted.  A stromboli and corona and sleep with the sounds of the city for clarity I hope.  Till next time.....