I am on still on the path...

You have not been forgotten about my beautiful blog. I will return with loving warmth to you. Please forgive my absence. You are very special to me.

Your Mikey.

Books. I won't let you die.

I heard on NPR today that IKEA is changing their best selling bookcase into a storage unit (with doors) in response to the fact that books are starting to go the way of the 8 track with the popularity of the Kindle, Nook and all the other gadgetry.

No.

I'm sorry, this is not a question. Books will not die. If you need to have 550,000 books in your silly, hipster record bag...then buy an e-reader. Fine. But understand, that in doing so, you are directly contributing to the collective, intellectual and cultural decline of our world community. Books are art. A delicately and intricately designed jacket cover is made to be touched, smelled and realized for it's complete and complex essence. The pages of a book are meant to yellow and age with time spent in your loving care. I have hundreds of books in my house that I have never read, here simply for the fact that they are beautiful. I am a bibliophile, and not in anyway ashamed of that fact.

If we let books go electronic, it will just be the latest in a series of social nuances that have been inexorably bastardized, never to be pure again:

Dating: eharmony, match.com, okcupid...simple, caring, efficient ideas in their genesis; tragic in their effects. I get it. We are now busier as a people than we have ever been. Meeting "the one" has become nearly impossible, and at least, the path has become overgrown and unnavigable. But, the "solution" proliferates a new problem. There is nothing organic about meeting someone online. First of all, the user sits behind their computer, mixed drink in hand, and unfurls their master list of everything that is required in their "perfect match." Then, this is applied to the hundreds of thumbnails that come across their screen; all of which are brands, attempting to ply their wares. Both parties are entering the endeavor with unrealistic expectations, as well as representations. The basic premise is love. The path is commerce. While love and lust fill the participants, advertisements are scrolling in their periphery, "The Bachelor" is Hulu-ing on Tab 3 and the futility of meeting a flesh, soul and bone person should be obvious. Not so. Online dating is like any internet ordering experience: the variety is amazing, the price is attractive, but ultimately, what arrives on your porch is the wrong hue of green and half a size too small.

Music: I love music. I look for records that I will be excited by, and that will become the soundtracks to my life. Though, I steal music. I don't do it because I can't come up with the money for an album; I do it because I can. If you put a beer fountain in the park, while I'm running, next to the water fountain, I think I'll probably drink the beer. Why? Because, fuck you, thats why. Humans have a natural tendency, (I might be tempted to say Humans of the United States of America, but I'll generalize it so that I am not a self hating American) to do what they should not, or sin, or break the rules. Music, in its most natural state SHOULD be available to everyone. Though, it is a commodity. The internet and the new media system has taken it to become a house paint of sorts, simply tinting a moment in time and therefore, leading to a degradation in not only the quality of music, but the respect for it in general. Music has become a breath mint, making a seemingly boring, malodorous moment palpable. (FYI...I have never been so impressed by those making music as much as now, I think people are making amazing music in reaction to this vicious capital-homogenization of music. Thank you.)

Food: Our world is instant. We expect everything to be available to us five minutes ago and year round. Our food system has inevitably followed this trend and created food that has no seasonal soul, is efficient and effective, and, ultimately, requires very little emotional attachment. When I can spend 1/4 of the price on something that is also ready in 2 minutes, why would I buy vegetables, meat and spend full price and full cooking time preparing them? But alas, the "model of efficiency" is not indeed the path to health or happiness. The joy is in the journey, in the process and communal nature of preparing the food, getting to know it, having a relationship with it; before it becomes part of you. You are what you eat; and as Michael Pollan says, "You are what you eat, eats." I also believe that you live how what you eat lived. If you eat meat that has lived a terrible existence, been beaten to death and then delivered to you in styrofoam; you are destined to take on the negative energy of that food. No one can tell me that you feel the same when you eat a tomato from a plastic, clamshell package, as when you eat it still warm from the sun in your friends backyard. It's a completely different experience. We have to understand that the nature of plants and animals grown for food is not instant. Taking the time to let things happen organically is exactly where the intersection of conscientious consumption and a delicious meal lies.

So, eat your prepackaged, convection microwaved, Starbucks turkey bacon sandwich, while reading your Kindle and listen to your overproduced, autotuned, Kings of Leon album. You'll be fine. Or. Go buy a used book, go to the farmers market, cook a meal for your love, go see real music, or just make your own with a harmonica and some red wine.

I will always have a house full of beautiful books, they are my favorite little pieces of art, and I will begin reading them all. Soon.

No sweating the Wedding...

Rinne and I are planning our wedding for August of next year. I have been told (read: warned) that planning a wedding is the most stressful, sleepless, punch-yourself-in-the-face time in your life. Now, I don't doubt that we are going to have some bumps, blindsides, and cross-eyed moments, but so far, it is SO much fun! We are doing alot of the wedding ourselves, (ie. decor, invites, etc) and so we just sit and think of awesome shit that we love, and feel like everyone coming to the bash will dig too. We are compiling our playlist of favorite awesome/poppy/cheesetastic music for the boogiefloor, and constantly ripping ideas that we like out of magazines (mostly National Geographic, the native African and Inuit wedding traditions). Yes, making a list of what I feel like is about 31% of my friends that are able to come...that sucks. Yes, it is going to cost alot. Yes, its a shitload of planning. Ultimately, at the end of it all, two narcissists get to throw a huge party for themselves and then get to spend the rest of their lives staring at one another and laughing their asses off. Im down.

Community. The loss there of.

Somehow the world has lost its sense of community. Lines of communication (notice that the prefixes for both words are commun, meaning "to share") have been cut by parties of staunch disagreement in a world system that simply relies on compromise on some level to exist. The "hell NO" agenda of global and domestic politics has led us to an impasse. More importantly, it is rendering the worlds ability for positive, intelligent and creative change impotent. Why should we be motivated to think of dynamic, progressive ideas while our president is castrated at every turn for making decisions that are exactly what his opponents want, and that are still being denied? In-fighting was a term that was being thrown around alot during the 2008 campaign, in regards to the conflict within the McCain/Palin camp, as well as between Obama and Hillary Clinton. Now, gracefully on display within the GOP, in-fighting is evidently an essential component of politics, social discussions and representing your constituents. The mind-numbing (or is it numb-minded) arguments between Michele "Barely containing my crazy" Bachmann and Rick "I can't find my pudding" Perry really squares the circle on completely losing control of our intelligence, and being applauded for doing so. When I have to choose between Bachmann (whose husband is conducting homophobic experiments ala Carl Vaernet, and should tried under the Nuremberg code) and Perry (who said, when asked about evolution, "It's a theory that's out there...It's got some gaps in it.") I think we need to raise the bar a bit.

The idea that sharing is wrong, and that there always has to be a winner or a dissenting opinion, will be the downfall of our society. The magnitude of polarization in our political system, is carcinogenic to say the least. The people of our world, as well as our country has entirely more things in common than we do in opposition. Money has become the stalwart in social reform, and the "keep your dirty government paws off of me" approach its partner in crime. Health Care reform isn't about the base issue of just keeping everyone healthy and cared for, it comes down to money. Money will certainly be moved out of privatized health care, and Republican pro-business whores can't have their pimps angered...or is it "Johns"? - too many penetrating parties to keep track of. The other issues on the table: Should women make the same amount of money as men for doing the same job? Of course. If you are stuck in the 50's, don't run for office. Gay marriage? Same answer. If you're a man, and don't want to marry a man; don't. It's not going to work out too well for either of you.

These are simple social justice issues. If you share, commune and aren't ignorant and afraid of those around you or the idea of change...Congrats. But don't force debate after debate after debate of baseless hearsay, medical errors (Bachmann, read a book) and thinly veiled sexism, racism and homophobia, and scare the shit out of me that you might be the next leader of my country.

Food as a friend.

When good food is in my life, I feel like an old friend has come to visit. It is calm, easy, warm and I can enjoy as much drink as I would like in its presence. I can cry onto it, or laugh with it. It will never judge me for my opinions, and will always let me know that I am loved. Food is my life long friend, and I am constantly trying to be the best companion that I can. In this vein, I am always trying to perfect my recipes and try new ones. I bring new friends to our gatherings to see how they might get along with one another. I am always careful to treat my edible friends in the way that best suits them. I love to learn about their histories. I love to help them to envision a new, and adventurous future.

Food is the best friend I have ever known...

and I love it very much.

Life is toast

I am sitting in my living room. My beautiful fiance is cooking me toast and eggs. The room is filled with that familar, familial smell of browning bread grains, the sound of spattering egg butter and it just makes me think of everyone that is not eating this breakfast. Maybe its someone rushing in the drive thru for a unlovable styrofoam box full of hollow foodish gross, or someone who can't afford anything today, or even worse, someone who can afford it, but won't eat because they make actually create a curve on their body. I am so grateful for every little snap, slurp, mmm, yum, burp, rip and touch. Eating good food, with great people is simply a divine experience. Food is available for reverence. Free food is coming off trees right now. Picking a little cherry, nibbling a tomato, eating our season. Exquisite dopeness.

free food: http://denver.fallingfruit.org/, http://boulder.fallingfruit.org/

Why to learn culinary terminology, (and why you're not a dick to use it)

I have just added an element to the blog, "Culinary Idea/Word of the Day". As you will notice on the starboard side of our little foodie adventure ship, I am going to add a random word or thought or idea or technique or food everyday. I think that if you are going to work with food, and respect it, then its always a fantastic thing to be improving your quiver of culinary diction. There are definitely some people who are snarky and condescending with culinary terminology; these people are dicks. It has less to do with the words they are using, and more the kind of shitty person that they are. We are not going to be these people. Knowledge is power. We understand that collecting a common language about food will make us all stronger and more efficient culinarians. It is not about being superior to others, but the terms and ideas used in the food world matter. Chopping is not dicing. Stock is not the same as broth. A sauteed onion will and should look different than a sweated one.

So feel free to use this daily term with those around you. There is always an appropriate time to interject with your newly found knowledge about baba ghanouj, bone marrow or Boston brown bread. Annoy your partner, co-workers, cellmate, bassist in your REO Speedwagon cover band, Shuffleboard teammate or child that you are inculcating with the love of food. Then feed them all!

30 and "counting"...

I am 30. I am about to turn 31. Age has never really felt like a logical way for me to quantify things. I have never applied the social norms to my life, i.e.: At 24 I will marry my college sweetheart, by 25 I will have a career path, by 26 I have children, and by 30 I will hate everything that I have created.

I have vacationed within my life for what I feel like is just the right amount of time. I did the proverbial journey into "myself" and sorted out who I am on some level or another, what I need in my life and the things that I can discard and tag as clutter. Through all of this self-indulgent "searching", I always had it somewhere in my mind that things were just going to turn out fine...Strike that, turn out AWESOME. I would meet the most killer partner to share my life with. I would find a job that made me lots of money, as well as potentially famous and pretentious. I would live somewhere that felt like the most truthful me. Ok. I'm close.

I have a partner who is amazing. Silly. Gorgeous. Flamboyant. Intelligent. Loves me.

I have a job that is changing the world for the better. Literally.

I live in a place that most people dream of vacationing in: mountains, music, yippies, sun.

Im still itchy. I want to make sure that I am recognized to the fullest extent that I can be. By myself and others. I don't want to miss anything. I want to eat and drink everything, everywhere. I want to live by the ocean. I want to live in the mountains. I want to work out more. I want to eat out more. I wish that I could make tons of money and never work again. I love living simply and having a job that is fulfilling. I want to be cooler. Im pretty fucking cool for 30. I wish that everyone would pay attention to me. I wish I was the kid that could just read a book in the corner. I want my partner to know that I love her more than anything. I want to make more art. I wish I had a 9-5, predictable career job. I should have picked one thing and stuck with it. Im intensely glad I didn't do that. I wish I didn't miscount my blessings so frequently.

But, Im happy. Really Real Happy.

Exercise Vs Food

My life has been a balance between two of my most favorite, but at sometimes, most diametrically opposed pastimes. Eating and exercising. As my father has said in the past, he eats so that he has the energy to exercise. I, on the more self-indulgent and gluttonous side of our family, exercise so that I don't feel excessively fat when I eat whatever I can get my hands (and mouth) on. I love to be outside. I love to bike and ski and run. Though, not nearly as much as I love pig and cheese. I envy those with high metabolisms, though I do not feel that they wholly appreciate their circumstances in relation to food. I have to work to be able to indulge. The experience is therefore that much sweeter. I am also that much more pleased when I am in good shape. I feel like a proud craftsman having made my very own bookshelf in the garage. I consider the genesis of strenuous activity for means of exercise. As we as a world have gotten more sedentary, we have also began to eat more and more. The quality of the food has been inversely correlated to the quantity, and as a result: America the Swollen. It wasn't until 1949 that we truly discovered the connection between exercise (physical activity in general) and improvements in health. Meanwhile, we have consciously chosen to use cheaper methods and ingredients for our food, we have become too busy to be bothered with "unrealistic" activities such as growing or cooking our own food and we have invented more and more ways to have less and less human contact. We have, quite literally, created a world of issues for ourselves, yet we want the quick fix. For me, there are simple ways that we can stem the tide of this landslide. We'll call it the Human Race Redux: An Exercise Plan.

1. Create Community. Technically, I think this could be the only bullet point of our plan. It encompasses the solution to nearly every issue plaguing our society today. Most of our main issues have materialized due to a pulling away of people from each other. Eating alone, driving alone, living alone…it requires more of everything! From an eating perspective, there is no doubt in my mind that I eat more poorly when no one is judging me. When my girlfriend is here, it's very rare that I have my midnight-thirty useless peanut butter face shove parties. Eating with others not only celebrates the food and friends, but is way more utilitarian and energy efficient than cooking for one or two. The same goes for exercising…If I have a workout partner, its like having Mick from the Rocky movies shouting at the back of my head.

2. Eat Intentionally. Buy food that you have some general idea about where its going to end up. I buy nearly all of my veggies once or twice a week at the farmers market, and I have at least a loosely formed plan for where they will end up. Squash: Roasted to be eaten tonight and for probably a couple more meals -- The other half go to making fresh pickles. Green Beans: Sauteed with nearly every meal for the next three days. Its so easy to buy things and forget about them, and then they die. Or buy something, ala a box of Late July Organic "Oreo" cookies from Costco (therefore the size of a 1980s VCR) and feel the need to whittle away the purchase by shoving six of them in my mouth four times a day. By the way, they are one of the best cookies made…watch out Oreos. Buy food that wants to be wanted by you. You're the chef…and the diner.

3. Learn to Love Exercise. Find an activity that is really exciting and fun. Something that gets you outdoors, with friends or not, and just so happens to have the fringe benefit of keeping you looking and feeling sexy! Skiing, hiking and mountain biking are things that I would love to do even if they somehow were laden with saturated fat, high fructose corn syrup and made me a fat slob. I can see why people loathe their workout time when they are doing it at 24 hour Fitness. What a clusterfuck sweatbox of tight, toned, judgmental grunters, all of whom are too engaged in mirror looking and the Nickelback piped into their ears to have an actual human interaction. Enjoy the nature. Love the nature. It will certainly love you back. Nothing centers me more, (while also working off the 2 lbs of pork I consumed last night) than a great hike/trail run and then a swim with my dog in the river. Find something you dig, and do it. Then find some dope, delicious, GOOD food…and eat the hell out of it.

Happiness (and good food) is shared.

Eating is a relationship. Emotions swell, minds race and caution is thrown to the breeze for a beautiful meal. I have seduced many a pea pod. Asparagus has certainly been stalked from from the shadows. I court beets by the bucketful. Everyone knows that feeling of lustful longing for a wonderfully crisp slice of bacon. Whew...Im sweating a bit.

So imagine my heart flutter when I found someone as feverish and love-smitten for food as myself. I have brought a dreamy, delicious, little Italiano into my life...and she cooks and eats with a passion that is nothing short of divine. Our phone sex consists of her describing the menu of a deliciously indulgent restaurant she is going to, and me ruminating on nibbles that I am cooking up and how crunchy, sweet and satiating they are. We have spent our first month living together eating, cooking, drooling over farmers market veggies and coveting well raised meat...and there no end in sight. We nosh our backyard kale, make kimchi and grill local grass fed skirt steak, talking about how we cant wait to teach our kids about the intense joy of communing around a table with delectable food and loving, sincere dining partners.

Life is all about the moments that you are able to truthfully share with someone, and finding that person that just says and thinks exactly what you would, except just much sexier or more intelligently. Though our lives are filled with so many versions of ourselves, our wants and needs are generally fairly steady; just perhaps different hues. I have always looked for the "me" that was comfortable with my emotions, truthfully relatable to those around me and passionate in a healthy direction. My lady friend has eased me into the best version of myself like a oversized bean bag chair; I'm IN it, and it's REAL difficult to stand up. I think I'll stay, perhaps forever.

So for all of you readers, (and your numbers most likely are not terribly plentiful) I hope that you have an eating and laughing partner. Its quite delightful. If you don't, come and eat with us. A love affair with food and fellowship is an investment that pays dividends exponentially. Introduce yourself to a bunch of sexy colorful carrots at the farmers market, "accidentally" bump into that basket of ripe peaches, take those honey laden Rocky Ford melons home with you. A one night stand? Nay. A fairytale romance is coming your way. Be reverent.

Thank you Corinne for being my eating mate, my backyard co-farmer and for loving food and me so much.

Love.

Rumenating on us....

I start to think about where we are as a collective culture....America, the world, humankind. Its just so easy to go down the proverbial "Rabbit Hole", and listen to the talking heads, the anger on both sides that has now become our discourse. I think that there is an amazing introspection to be gleaned from extremism, though the ultimate positive message will be distilled from the fringes. By shoring up our beliefs, and ultimately understanding that we are all better for them, there is a solace in the fact that we don't need them. Like everything in nature, we fight for equity; for a sense of equilibrium or symmetry that just feels right, and, knowing our entitlement (or narcissism) we might not immediately recognize it existence. I am so fond of coming out of an argument feeling that I have intellectually bested (read: kicked the shit out of) my opponent (read: friend/enemy/fellow arguer) that I fail to actually take what I should have away from the conversation. One: My point, while well founded, may not have been the only on the topic and Two: The essence of great thought lies in the subtleties between the words. As a culture that is built upon reactionary tones, and only formulating our response based on the last inflammatory thing that someone says, we forget to portray ourselves as we actually mean to.

"Say what you mean, mean what you say." So many arguments and statements are now lead by agenda based, epithets of partisan lingo that no one truly understands that the meaning is simply lost...and all that exists is the knee-jerk reactions that so often amount to less than a bumper sticker of true individual thought. When I find myself in a helpful place to "sort myself out", politically, humanistically, or just within my own misshapen view of what I want to be for my world, I am certainly with someone who is diametrically opposed (or at least at odds) with my soap box, and injects their views in a manner that makes me wince. A deep breath...but I know that the only constructive response has to be rational, and truthful; we begin to build. Eventually, always, I play for a humanistic, love and community based rationale for all problems. I am unapologetic in the fact that I think our solidification and ultimate reunification of everyone, relies on the fact that there is something beautiful and foundational to be brought out of the struggle. No one gets to be right. No one gets to win. Though for that, we all are better for the fight. Open your ears, rise above the static and tease out the real issues of our world.

A hushed dinner...

I have never been on a blind date. Truth be told, I have never actually been on a classic “first-date.” The inconsolable anxiety, lack of basic information about my dining/beach walking/movie-viewing partner-to-be and claustrophobic prison cell of a date situation in general, sounded like a sweat-fest shit-show of the tallest order to me. Though, I recently attended a Hush Denver dinner event, and there is a generalized “blind-datey” feeling that surrounds the night; and it is simply exhilarating. Hush Denver was started by Phil Armstrong, as a way to celebrate and pay homage to the “others” in the kitchen; the grunting, sweating, bleeding mess of line cooks that actually flex the food out each evening. With the growing adoration and deification of the “Chef”, as a celebrity, a shouting drama queen, but very rarely, actually as a Cook, Hush Denver brings the focus back upon the real architects. For tonight, the menu is unknown, our only information is that it will be featuring food prepared by Erin Boyle, of Root Down “fame” and that it is sure to dazzle.

The dinners (for now) take place at Studio Como, (think Ikea, though the customers aren’t all recently divorced men or college students, but Range Rover driving, square toed shoe wearing, upper crusters with a little funk) and the modern chairs and exposed brick walls are oddly at ease with one another, and appropriately industrial. The energy is generally something between a co-ed mixer, a murder mystery dinner and an awesome 80’s party. Our coats are taken, and we are directed by Phil towards the “bar”, (actually a semi-functional display kitchen) and given a Deshler (made by Kevin Burke, Head Barman of Colt and Gray) to sip on. Approximate something between a Manhattan and a Sidecar in a snifter, and you’re on track. This is paired with a passed-app of a Duck Mousse Bonbon, Nutmeg Cookie with Cranberries and Micro Arugula. For me, the drink is too strong for a first and the mousse is tasty, but a little fatty, and rillette-ish, really lacking citrus or acid to cut it a touch. We meet fun new foodie friends, and find a table that suits our sentimentality (dark, back of the room, by the band) and get to drinking, laughing too loudly and most importantly, eating and judging.

Eating at a dinner with food lovers is much akin to watching previews at a movie. After each bite (or preview) everyone leans in to give their two cents about the thumbs ups and thumbs downs of the offering. Our first course was a Kabocha Squash Soup, with a Cilantro-Squash Seed Pesto, Smoked Brown Sugar and a Lime Crème Fraiche, paired with a Spanish Sitios Bodega, Verdejo/Sauv Blanc blend. The thumbs are up, the crowd is hushed…save a couple “ooh’s” and copious slurping. The soup is executed perfectly: velvety, rich and the Lime Crème Fraiche adding a light crispness that brings all of the flavors together. The wine is humbled by the soup, and falls a touch flat. The table’s bowls are all cleaned thoroughly.

Onto the three main protein courses, with an unfortunate common theme: cold plates. Seared Scallop with Braised Root Vegetables, Pork Belly, Mushroom Jus and Yucca paired with a Opawa New Zealand Pinot Noir. The dish is conceptually quite nice, but the salt is instantly overpowering. The scallop was seasoned well, seared well, but the tepid, brodo-ish vegetables and broth must have been salted before braising and reducing, and the compounded seasoning is just too much. In addition, the “pork belly” was a thin, tangled piece of bacon, which, yes, is in fact pork belly, but stretching the description a bit. The Opawa pinot is bold, inky and delicious, ending up as my favorite amongst a group of interesting pairings. For our third course, Braised Lamb with Israeli Couscous, Roasted Eggplant and Tomato Jam paired with an interesting and delightful La Garrigue, Southern Rhone blend. The dish is really excellent: the lamb is cooked perfectly for me, with crispy seared nibbles on the outside, and a perfect mid-rare on the interior, the tomato “jam” (more like a sweet tomato paste, but great) adding just the right flavor nudge and a complex, herbed take on the couscous. The dish is simply lukewarm at best though, leaving me wishing for a rented hotbox in the kitchen to keep the plates like, Mexican restaurant HOT! Fourth course, third protein: a Pan Seared Blue Marlin, with Blood Orange and a Jungle Broth, paired with a Bonny Doon, Roussanne Grenache Blanc; a wine that I truthfully don’t remember having. The marlin was seasoned and cooked very well, only, it happened probably 20 minutes ago. I am reminded of my banquet serving days, eating cold leftover plates in the hotel back hallway, and thinking how great they would have been, hot and fresh. The blood orange and jungle broth are an interesting nod to Thai jungle curry or country curry, with peppery, soft notes, but falls short of truly fitting with the marlin. All of the mains had a potential for greatness, but a couple seasoning missteps and serious temperature concerns (easily fixed with a plate warmer) kept them from attaining their full “Oh my God!” factor.

Second star to the right, and straight on till morning…we enter Dessertland. A jiggly and sensual Rose Panna Cotta, with Lemon Saffron Sorbet, Clover honey and a Lemon Tuille is placed before me. With a Moscato in my hand…I smile. Now, read this knowing that the Pastry Chef from Root Down, Samm Sherman, is a friend of mine from culinary school, but I am not biased: the dessert was great. Save for the rose petal on the plate, (NO inedible/non-functional garnishes!) the dish was delicious. The panna cotta had just enough of a hint of rose, and was a consistency just perfect for squishing through my teeth (my preferred eating method), and the lemon saffron sorbet was uber-sweet and saffrony, a combo that I was concerned about. Eaten in one forkful, the plate was delightful, all elements singing in harmony.

As was discussed at my table, eating at Hush Denver is about the mission: Give the underlings some light to shine in, support local eateries and do so with the fellowship of foodies and fun-loving gastronomes alike. I am always happy, full and a bit buzzed after a Hush meal, and leave with great new friends and a head full of conversation. There were some stumblings in the meal, but ask anyone that was there: it was fun as hell. The Chefs are putting themselves out there, with no walls segregating us, and making a symphony come together out of thin air. It’s at the very least an exciting, mysterious adventure in foodery and a chance to be in a think-tank of discerning and intentional eaters. I will be at every Hush Denver event; in anxious anticipation of my “blind-date”, red rose in hand…waiting to be wowed.

Digging my roots in....

When I move to a new city, I have a little laundry list of things that I must get accomplished before I feel comfy:

First and Foremost, get a library card. Its free. They let you HAVE books and movies. Its a dope place to meditate and intellectually gorge yourself. I personally love to camp out in the childrens book section and read the REAL books; and I shave my head so that people mistake me for Shel Silverstein. I'm available for autographs.

Secondly, scout the local food and bev offerings. Liquor store with good beer, check. Killer local market with organic goodies, check. Restaurants, fine dining to greasy taquerias and spoons, check. I budget more money for food than anything, and it certainly pays happiness dividends by the bucket full.

Third, and I think most importantly for where we are as a culture now: I look for places that are bringing the community together, getting people good feelings and food, and are being proactive. Then I volunteer with them. Again, it's free. It boosts your good Samaritan factor exponentially, and it might even get you girls (or guys). Its like telling the "got attacked by a shark" story at the bar, except its the "I helped build a garden with little kiddos to feed a neighborhood today." HOT!

So I am working with a couple different groups here: Denver Urban Gardens (www.dug.org), Feed Denver (www.feeddenver.com) and the GrowHaus (www.thegrowhaus.com). They are all volunteer, and the latter two are in their infancy, but have LOTS of energy. DUG is a group that manages about 200 urban gardens in Denver, at schools, apartment complexes and for neighborhoods. They help the people get the garden set up, divided up and planted...and then, (in theory) the community takes it over. This is generally the case, though there are some that need a little extra TLC and some watchful eyes. DUG sponsors alot of community events and really keep their name and mission in the minds of the city folk. DUG works with volunteers, many of which are college students and/or members of the neighborhoods.

Feed Denver is a program that is starting up on the Urban Farm, a 27 acre farm that is close to downtown and has about 150 animals and such for kids in the area to learn about farming. The Feed Denver project is going to encompass the crop growing section of the farm, with large hoop houses and about 2 acres of row crops. They have some really cool access to the younger kiddos, and bring alot of great energy from kids that are working off community service hours, and want to help out with animals and veggies.

The GrowHaus is a really cool project begun by a friend of mine who is a food advocacy and empowerment soldier and then a fella who is big in the real estate industry here. He bought a HUGE old florist shop, (like 20,000 sq ft) in a neighborhood that is quite simply, a food desert. They don't have any places to buy food, (except convenience stores, and a Super Wal Mart that is 5 miles away) and they are really struggling with diabetes and other diet related illnesses. The area is all shades of brown, with so many rich food traditions that are being lost to processed, unhealthy food. The project is all about empowering the neighborhood and community to come together and share their food histories, and understand that the GrowHaus will be getting delicious, organic food to the neighborhood, from inside the neighborhood. All crops are going to be grown using Aquaponics and Vermiculture systems, and there will be an on-site market for the neighborhood.

If you're in Denver, come out with me sometime. If you're not, first, your life is worse than it would be here, and secondly, find some programs like this in your zone. Everyone is on the Locavore kick, and if they're not, they want to be. Start something small. My neighborhood is all about the little backyard/windowbox gardens, and I am anxiously awaiting the spring so that I can eat the bounty and garden in my little daisy duke overalls. Don't lie, gardeners are sexy. Alright, Im going to go cook something. It seems that everytime I write a blog entry, (which I know is not often enough) I punctuate the last sentence with a desperate feeling of hunger and I always go and cook something killer. Come eat with me....

Why you too should be enamored with food...

I just live for the feeling after you have cooked a delicious, belly warming meal. You've gotten your guests groaning with pleasure and certainly overstuffedness, the dishes are done and your feet are up. It's that punch drunk tiredness, and a content that I fiend for. The passion that great food ignites in people, and the immediacy with which it brings them together, is unlike any other medium in the world. If a beet only knew the seductive trance that it can have on top of the food chain, opposable thumb having, world conquerors, the tables would certainly be compromised, if not turned. Though I think beets are pretty non-confrontational pacifists. I find myself being substantially intrigued by the elemental things in life lately. The idea of sleep has been really fascinating me: Your body turns itself "off", and you can go to these deliciously weird corners of yourself that no one else knows about and its basically free medicine; a natural restart button. Eating, cooking and talking about food brings me this insatiable pleasure, I am feeling myself falling towards the grips of hedonism. Why pain, if pleasure? Instinct can be my divining rod: salt, meat, fat, touch, drink, laugh, sex, sugar, butter, BACON...why abstain from things that satisfy my shallow id? Let it take me over...

I say this with a conflicted heart, the world is seizing up, so many are in pain and without. There must be a leveling off...I am dedicating a lot of my brain and soul's energy to thinking about those subjected to the fringe. Do all that you can, as small or as large as that may seem. Our energy needs more positivity and cohesiveness. Don't feel bad about pampering and treating the ones you love, squeeze everyone around you and feed them with something that feels like your truest heart. I think I do this best with my food, so come to my table and let me tell you that you're my love. Eat up kiddos, there's a storm outside...

Mikey

Potentiality...

I've got lots of rants, thoughts and experiences that I have gone through as of late that I will soon be blogging about...I may have some time to do so, as I think I might have compromised the structural integrity of my right knee yesterday. I have been skiing for about 27 years and the knee injury fairy just may have caught up with me. I extend to this fairy, a whole-hearted: Go fuck yourself. I am focusing all of my loving energy towards my knee (and I think, more specifically, my MCL) so I would love if you could do the same. I can't say that I am very good at being injured...

Rants to come: Sausage Making Craziness, My Hush speakeasy supper and Why Rush and Pat Robertson even have an audience...

Mikey

On Love and Food...

Food is sexy. If you don't think so, then I would just hate to see what you're eating. I've spent the last week in a glutinous love affair with food, wine and friends, and I emerge from it grinning, a bit of a picky hedonist and just plain exhausted. I have always found myself drawn towards the things in life that immediately influence the most emotion and sensual stimulization. Eating, talking about food and cooking play into an array of sensory experiences that just light my world up.

...Smell/Olfaction: I would perform cooking demonstrations in Washington, and I could talk louder than anyone, start chopping with as much Morimoto as I can channel or start banging pots and pans...and still, people would shy away. Though, add a little butter to my pan, and start sautéing garlic and onions, I'm the Halloween house that gives away full size candy bars; cats are COMING.

...Sight/Vision: The displays at the farmers market are like an Adult book store for me. I find myself sweating a little and holding little private conferences with a voluptuous bundle of beets or a handful of sweet, meaty figs. The glossy pages of Bon Appetit, Art Culinaire or a new cookbook, give me a touch of fever that can only be cured by a gastronomical orgy. I also know for a fact, that I look even more sexually attractive (if that's at all possible) whilst cooking some food for a young lassie.

...Hearing/Audition: One of my favorite Chefs in culinary school was a huge preponderant of cooking with your ears. It allows you to hang out with multiple jobs, and be aware of each items status from a distance. One particular day, I was caramelizing a rondo full of onions, (picture a 4 foot circular pan with no doubt, 50 onions) and Chef Wong pulled me away. "Just listen, you know they're sexy and happy when you hear the muffled little pops...Hear anything different, you've got issues. Low, slow and listening, that's sexy cooking baby." I think I owe him one for bringing the word sexy to my food.

...Touch/Tactition: Working on a farm for the last year brought a whole new appreciation for the touch of veggies. The satisfying scrunch when ripping the feathery tops off of our carrots while standing in 8 inches of quicksand mud, giving each of our beets a little thumb press to ensure that the root was solid and delicious and the feeling of dirt grit in your teeth when eating a sunchoke right out of the earth...I could lay in the bins of veggies and feel like I was laying in a pile of lovely friends.

...Taste/Gustation: and of course, time to get those buds involved. I think of a fresh piece of burrata and a salted tomato slice sliding over my tongue, a chunk of butter poached fish or the first warm leaf of basil in the spring...Taste is the manifestation of all food foreplay. I have no edit button once something is attacking my taste buds, my "tasting tourettes" comes on in full effect, and whatever comes up, comes out. I can't think of something more sexy than feeding someone a concoction from a spoon, their eyes closing, a hand on the chest or fist on the table, followed by a resounding..."Fuuuuuck! That is DELICIOUS!" This why I cook. This is why I eat.

In closing, I just love to love. People, food, music, art, kissing, falling, flying, cooking, growing, sleeping, life, love........

Sometimes it's almost too much to handle.

Breath.

It's just enough.

I eat Denver

I apologize profusely to my very few dedicated readers, to myself and to the world that has been without my written voice for some time now. My life has been a busy one as of late: buying a house, looking for employment and lots of little ventures into the mountains in a fleeting search for snow. I have also been dedicating myself, full-time, to buying and eating as much of Denver as is humanly possible. I have spent the last ten years of my life in small towns, and while I love certain things about each one, none of them had the stuff that a city does: I have seen about twelve shows since touching down here, (some great: The Wheel, Tune-Yards, Stella Star...Some lackluster: Brett Dennen, Mason Jennings) I have officially become a member of most every museum and/or group that I have come across and I am attempting to eat the entirety of Denver. The restaurants that I have come across have run the gamut from sexy and delicious to simply a good attempt, but none have been terrible. All the chefs are trying their damnedest to carve out a little personality niche in the local food scene. There is a heaping amount of young energy in the food, decor and general mood of the restaurants, and I think it is a great lens with which to view Denver. In no particular order, I will reminisce about my chompings....

I must jump on the bandwagon a bit, and give some props to my neighborhood, the Highlands, for dropping some serious food knowledge on the 303. Sushi Hai, Vita, Venue Bistro, Duo, Felix's are doing a sincere job of pushing out great food and my two ultimate favorites are absolutely killing it: Root Down and Masterpiece Delicatessen. Root Down is arguably the hottest spot in Denver, and definitely the most talked about. I casually attempted a Tuesday reservation for two last week, not a chance. Root Down takes place in a renovated auto mechanics shop, with the backwaiters and bussers rocking the short-sleeved, polyester, rectangular name-tagged shirts. The atmosphere is mod, and nearly a bit too hip, but pulls it off, with large format paintings and colorful found art (30 or so old phones on one wall and paint/oil can lids mosaic-ing a wall in the private dining room). The food is fun, playing the neo-American, local, organic, sexied up comfort food angle quite well. I'm a sucker for the Beet 3-ways salad (pickled, fried, roasted with Etorki cheese, sheeps deliciousness) and then the small plates: the Smoked Organic Portobello Gyoza with the Soy Milk Dunk rock my world everytime without fail. Simple as can be, but ridiculous...get it. The Seared Gnocchi Cakes are crunchy and spiced just right and the Lamb Meatballs with the Herbed Chickpea Broth can be amazing as well as a bit overdone, I guess it depends on the night. Entrees have some interesting options, but I say stick with the small plates, lots of em. Croissant Bread Pudding with Sour Cream Ice Cream owns the dessert realm, believe that.

Masterpiece Deli has been my jam for around two years. A friend of mine worked there, and would bring me butcher paper wrapped sandwiches whenever he would come to Steamboat. The Deli is all business when youre there, some cute paintings but pretty utilitarian. A rockin fleet of tattooed employees keep the food moving, and the food is super gangster. Everything is around $9, and everything is worth it. I usually stick with the (12 hour) Braised Beef Brisket sandwich, dripping with meaty jus on a fresh baguette, or the Seared Ahi Tuna, with Asian slaw on an English Muffin - Morimoto meets Mary Poppins, how could it go wrong?! But, I must admit, if I'm up, (and perhaps a touch hungover) breakfast is where simplicity shines at Masterpiece. The sandwiches come on a bagel or english muffin, with an heirloom egg, cheese and killer meat/umami options: sauteed wild mushrooms (that's me baby), applewood smoked bacon, Taylor pork roll, pastrami...its all good. The heirloom egg bleeds deliciously all over the plate after the first bite, life is dandy! I suggest stopping by Living the Sweet Life bakery next door for a cupcake, the girls are cute and the chocolate is beautiful.

To venture out of my neighborhood, which Highlanders are known to do on very rare and momentous occasions, the grazing to be had is colorful and vast. Stuebens, Snooze, Fruition, Organixx, Potager (bringing that true, local flavor), Cucina Colore, Sputniks (late night sweet potato fries, SICK!), Bistro One, Marczyks (Local food, wine galore, nice fonts...) - Point is, theres lots. I have probably eaten at a bunch that aren't coming to me, or I had too much wine, lo siento amigos. For the time being, I'll talk about a place that I dug hard recently. Beatrice and Woodsleys. No sign in front. It looks kind of like an art gallery on acid from outside. There are old chainsaws murdering the liquor shelves. I love it. We bellied up to the bar, and ordered a half bottle of pinot noir from my old Cali stomping grounds. The bartender put a little "toe" tag on the neck of the bottle, ID'ing its origins, for you to pocket on departure. All small plates, we chose about five or six, the menu reading through like a kooky Grimms fairy tale. The Sheepish Beignets (truffle ricotta batter, fried, topped with a sugary/salty gremolata), the Cheeky Bastard (Braised Veal Cheek Rillette, encased in a buttery, crunchy polenta, smokey tomato/parm jam on top) and the Stewed Garbanzo Beans (w/grilled eggplant, harissa paste and a garlicky yogurt) were inventive and inspired. The food, the atmosphere, the company and probably the wine...I felt transported and as tranquil as warm jello. As I slid out of my seat to head to the bathroom, I unwittingly entered a sort of Alice and Wonderland room of installation artwork. The bathroom doors are one with the wall, you enter by pushing a round ball and the wall becomes an entryway. The sinks have medieval chains and wood handles that you pull in one direction or another (I don't think I figured it out fully) and the water comes cascading 15 feet from the ceiling, cloying to a cluster of ball-bearing strands until it hits your hands in the basin. Where the F__K am I? I DIG it...It's hard for me not to act like a kid anyways, but this just pushed me over the edge. We left with lots of giggles and perhaps a touch of skipping on the way home.

In closing...Go/Come Eat Denver with me. I'll be doing it with or without you, so giddy up kid.

Go Farm Yourself: a Manifesto

Our food world is in disrepair. Our fellow countrymen are becoming a swollen, ignorant mass of indiscriminate consumers, bent on low prices and consequently, even lower nutritional value. Our countries kids are suffering as a bi-product, with increasingly more sedentary lifestyles as a catalyst. People in general simply do not know from where or how their food really comes to them. There are those that are fighting to bring it back to it’s origins, but their numbers pale in comparison to those pulling it further away from us. The need for people to be reintroduced to what they are eating is dire.

Plant gardens and make compost. Meet your nearby farmers and ranchers. Identify local producers of your main food items. Reuse rather than buying new.

Reprioritize. Don’t believe the hype.

Live creatively.

There was a 20% increase in 2008 of people planting home veggie gardens in America. Of course, much of this was due to the economy, but what better a way to kick-start people into action. Schools around the country are teaching kids all subjects with the garden/farm as a starting point. If the kiddos are excited about vegetables, you should be. Break out the overalls dad. I raised strawberries, garlic, tomatoes and potatoes out of an old claw foot tub in Steamboat, where the growing season is like 2 days. If you have dirt, you can have veggies. Nearly all your food and paper waste can be composted (and most others can be recycled). With minimal effort, you can have compost that is good enough to eat…and your garden will do just that. California is considering eliminating home trash bins, only to use compost and recycling containers! Compost is like veggie bling! Pimp your garden! I sit here, eating a fried green tomato with basil (and homemade queso fresco), both from a friends garden…my mouth is in lust. Go Farm Yourself!

I am just moving back to Colorado from living in Napa Valley, CA and the Olympic Peninsula, WA, (two of the most fervently growing and producing areas imaginable) and I’m knocked out by what Colorado is creating. I sat down one night last week and had Haystack Chevre (Lakewood), with beets and late season greens from a friends yard, local grass-fed beef from Mavericks and a neat Stranahans whiskey (both in Denver). Just because we have four seasons, and we’re about a mile up, by no means dictates that our stomachs must suffer. For anyone who loves food, I suggest that you take a day, and visit, or even better, work on one of our local farms. I’ve been working as a chef on a 400-acre organic farm in Wash State for the last year, and I have never known my ingredients (or the farmers that care for them) more intimately. In my estimation, I feel that local is a bit more important at this point than organic. Supporting your local foodshed and artisan producers’ keeps the money in your community, reduces wear, tear and the carbon footprint on your food and it simply tastes like where you live.

We as Americans have become well trained to discard and repurchase items the minute that they begin to fail. Though, as of late, I have noticed more duct taped, reconstituted and DIY fix jobs than ever before. The old, dusty shoe and watch repair shops are revitalized with customers not willing to let go of their trusted accoutrements. Even the hipster kids are diving into their mother’s justifiably discarded 80’s accessories, (perhaps this has little to do with sustainability, but thought I would try to give them some credit). Think about your “garbage” conscientiously. Fill your fridge with used glass and plastic water bottles, wash your Ziploc bags, install a grey water catch for use in your garden, or even make some cool, original art with the kiddos using items formerly earmarked for a landfill life. Compostable egg crate artwork?! Sustainable-chic!

Taking back our food system is a matter of reprioritization. With a bit more effort up front, (or perhaps a few cents more at the farmers market or Co-op) a considerate decision about where to buy and/or how to grow your food will reduce the overall cost in the end. The health of our population and land depends on a reinstated reverence of our food and the way in which we frame it. Listen to your body, not to commercials. Become a learned, conscientious consumer. Buy used gardening, horticulture and food books. Knowledge is sexy! Make food and life a bit more whimsical. Plant a garden, raise some chickens, compost, talk to vendors at the farmers markets, meet some new veggies, create something delicious and good for your soul! Let this be a message to the little, dreamy child in all of us: The World is our Farm, let’s care for it…and Chomp it up!

Go Farm Yourself - Mike

Jesus hates Nipples

"I can't believe she's breast-feeding in public! Why do I have to see that?!" - some Christian Lady, on a ferry to Seattle.

I love how our country, and the religious zealots who have drawn up its moral parameters, have decided that nudity, sex and nipples (women's) should be demonized. Any bodily part, or activity has to be made private and /or inapporpriate in order to save the sanctity of our innocence. For some reason, these areas of particular concern are always those related to the most natural and life giving/creating parts of our bodies. Elbows, earlobes, the backs of knees, and a bounty of other equally unattractive body parts are allowed to be displayed in plain sight in everyday life, because they serve no higher purpose or alternate usage. If earlobes could also produce sperm or lactate, we'd all be wearing head-pants and ear-underpants in no time. If a woman is willing to feed their child in front of you, (as the woman referred to in the quote was doing, most inconspicuously) you should feel blessed to be witness to one of the most beautiful acts in life: a mother selflessly giving their child life.

The Farm Terroirist

The Farm is the ultimate definition of terroir.  All that we produce is defined by the soil that it grows in, the weather in which it lives its life and who are its stewards.  I have always thought of terrior in relation to viticulture, and having the ability to taste the region from which a wine comes from.  I think that tasting the vegetables from our farm in relation to others, there is a difference.  I know how they were grown, and in what conditions, therefore, I can identify their superiority.  We live in an area in which the idea of local being better is already a commonly held belief system.  From a carbon footprint standpoint, as well as freshness, we know this is true.  Of course, for the type of vegetable, it can be a paradox.  Local is great, but I know that our tomatoes here are not half as delicious as the ones that we grew in California.  You have to grow appropriately for your microclimate.  The area in which the farm exists is a mecca for artisans.  Grown within two miles of where I live, I have available to me (all nearly year round) fresh produce, meat, eggs, cheese, milk, oysters, clams, oils, mushrooms, grains and bread.  Its an amazing dichotomy in our area, because, not but six miles away, is a five mile strip of Home Depot, Costco, Wal-Mart and Safeway; the epitome of homogenized America.   For as many people as there are that support our farm, there are ten times that patronizing each of those stores daily.  I feel that this juxtaposition is a catalyst for our farms philosophy and the change that we wish to see in our countries eating crisis. 

 The availability of any food, any time of the year in our country, has completely eliminated people’s ability to discern what “local” or “seasonal” ingredients might taste like.  The idea of the terroir of our food also reflects an innate sense of reverence for that food, that can’t be expressed when it is a food that is completely out of it’s element.  A strawberry in December is like a polar bear in California.  Depressed.  There’s no joie de vivre and as I often say, no SOUL about a lot of the vegetables that you see at Safeway; waxy and completely out of season.  People will ask me how to choose rutabagas, (or many other veggies at the market) and I will usually tell them, “You want something with character, something that has SOUL.  You’re gonna want the James Brown rutabaga, not the Barry Manilow.”  Often times the root veggies with more character, (ie. nobs, water/worm damage, or generally rougher appearances) will have a higher sugar content, as the plant has dispatched natural sugars to repair the possibly damaged root system during its growth.  A sweeter veggie, that will caramelize more quickly, and that has a distinctly higher quality of “soul”.  Food from where you are has a personality, and a distinct feeling of comfort that the consumer should and will appreciate.    

 On our farm, we create food.  The food is for everyone, and that is whom we provide it to. We are feeding our neighbors; we are giving them the bounty of the earth that they will, in one way or another, give back to.  In as much as we borrow land for our crops, we are also providing shelter for that land from development, and the area from being disrupted.  An understanding has been reached that truthful, local food can be ours, and at a sincere benefit to all involved parties.  As a business, we sell to those companies that we see fit to sell our product.  We sell to like-minded companies that are focused on our area of the world, the products that we can enjoy from it and the people that live on the land that nurtures it.  The terroir of our food not only is manifested in the direction that it comes from, but also the path that it takes.