This is how we do it....

The first one we did was the Anthem party at the Frank Sinatra Twin Palms estate and what a scene it was. For a few years after that, Dustin, Dre, Cheyne and crew provided the best Coachella pool parties, unrivaled by anyone’s terms.

Combat catering would best describe how we pull this one off. Feeding 500 people a day is not unusual and we generally do two days in a row. Hundreds of pounds of meat, gallons upon gallons of beans and multiple sacks of rice are our staples with some veggies thrown in for good measure. All things considered the food is darn good and we haven’t had a lot of complaints.

There’s been some trials and tribulations though, it’s not all glory, booze and floozies. Like the year we set up on top of a giant, active red ant hill. That was sweet. Or the year we showed up and all our chicken was still frozen solid (and I mean solid), Brian Maul saved the day on that one. But all in all the experience is always worth it. I mean, how tough can three days of partying poolside really be, right?

This year Cody came along for the ride, and his amazing Aunt Deb provided us with gracious offsite accommodations. It was Cody’s first time doing the run with us and he ruled the grill making massive amounts of chicken while our friend Aji-San shot some video. And the one and only Olivia was not only the bearer of frosty beverages but quite a bit of comedy relief as well.

I am barely recovered but already looking forward to next year…..

Any takers!?

I basically live at Memphis at the Santora, the grand dame of downtown SanTana’s food scene, swimming through a sea of Manhattans and climbing mountains of bread pudding every week, if not night. We named them Best Bar last year, an honor well-deserved and one that they’re not resting on at all. Their bartending crew is the Dallas Mavericks of our mixologist scene (quick thought: does that make the 320 Main crew the 1992 U.S. Olympic team?), with each cocktail master doing their bit to wow the public by whipping up new drinks at request.

If Johnny Sampson is Memphis’ Dirk Nowitzki and Dave Mau its Jason Kidd, then Ricky Yarnell is Rodrigue Beaubois: the young gun learning at the altar of the masters, already possessing scary-good chops (not to mention a fabulous mustache). Memphis knows this, advertising every other Wednesday as “Wednesdays with Ricky,” where Yarnell picks a theme and runs with it. Take his Stinger

High Sierra's Florence Lake pack station.

The humble cook shack at High Sierra Pack Station, owned and operated by John and Jenice Cunningham, is a welcome spot to pop into for some hot coffee or a cold beer on a lazy Sierra afternoon. The kind company of the Cunninghams and crew is simply an amazing way to enjoy some quiet time in the mountains. I’ve slung grub a bit for them over the years, even gone along as camp cook on a few pack trips to the high country. It’s a wonderful manner in which to see some spots that might not be accessible except by the most fit and experienced of hikers. There are a lot of topics of conversation that have been batted back and forth over the crew table and campfires there, and one of the most often mentioned is the efforts by some environmental organizations to limit human and horse traffic to the back country. The latest salvo fired is holding off the permitting of pack stations in Kings Canyon and Sequoia, pending the decision of a San Francisco judge regarding the Park Service and The Wilderness Act. I love how they never try these cases in the jurisdiction they are trying to impose their views on. The pressure, however, has been building for years with misinformed judges ruling on the side of organizations like the High Sierra Hikers Association. These decisions have made operating more and more difficult each year.

Now don’t get me wrong, over grazing by sheep in the late 1800’s and the massive summer camping trips of the Sierra Club after that have taken their toll. The dry, sandy meadows in parts of the high country are a testament to this and overuse by stock (and humans) can damage trails. And don’t even get me started on the whole giardia debate; I’ll leave that one for posterity. However, human habitation there has been a fact for thousands of years, to one extent or another, and we have collectively made our mark for better or worse.

A fine example of this is in the work of German-born painter Albert Bierstadt, an artist of international renown who’s sweeping vistas of the American West captured the imagination of the world. He embodied the Hudson River school of thought, with luminism and large canvasses being his trademark. Most striking, to me, are his wondrous paintings of Yosemite before the arrival of European Americans and the valley’s use as a tourist destination. In these works you see verdant meadows with sparse trees and wide-open spaces, a stark contrast to the appearance of the valley today. This is due to the interruption of the natural cycle of the forest by fire suppression efforts over the past 150 years, including cessation of anthropogenic burnings by the native population. All of this is a byproduct of modern human habitation. The meadows have gradually been encroached on by trees and forest restoration efforts in the valley and south end of the park are attempting to return it to a more “natural” state.

Me on the trail, Second Recess Camp, 1997

My dear, departed friend and back country horseman, Stony O’Neill, would tell me stories of the old-time packers leaving in the fall, following the tradition of the local indigenous people and burning the dry grass of the high country meadows in order to preserve them. This has been going on for millennia. Prior to forest management, low intensity fires burned off dead underbrush, preventing more severe ones. So it begs the question, if humans have habitated the mountains for tens of thousands of years and changed their surroundings because of their presence, does that make them part of the natural cycle or not?

Our presence in, and (for what it is) stewardship of, the land, is natural. And even by making decisions to not affect it, we affect it. We cannot remove ourselves from the equation.

Now, I’m sure they have their reasoning, but the misguided efforts by these groups are environmental elitism to the extreme.  The potential end game here could be a scary vision where the human use of wilderness areas is restricted to such an extent they become basically off limits. Contrary to the misconception, the interests of packers are not represented by hordes of pricey lawyers, nor are they as organized as they should be. Their resources are limited and their role in the high country wholly misunderstood. And the “Garden of Eden” vision of the High Sierra is scary at the very least and, at worst, approaching eco-fascism.

The notion of backcountry common sense being dictated by people so detached from the day to day realities there is more than silly, it’s, well, almost insulting. But both hikers and packers are up there for the same reasons, a love of the land and the chance to experience “the new morning of God’s creation” therein. Perhaps all should meet over coffee at the break of dawn in the simple courtroom of the cookhouse, and there, clear minds on both sides would hopefully prevail.

For those of you that don’t know, Vermilion (yes, one “L”) is one of the crown jewels of the Sierra high country and among the most beautiful spots accessible by automobile. Well, sort of. If you call a 23-mile long, one lane, goat path being “accessible,” then so be it. You can do it in a passenger car but an SUV is better, four wheel drive preferred. Good news is that it keeps the rookies away and, unless you really want to be back there, you probably won’t bother. Bad news is that you need to drive over a nearly 10,000 foot pass to get there and it is usually buried in 12 feet of snow until late spring. And when they plow the road is when we go in via the one lane snow maze on Kaiser Pass Road.

Full-throttle from SoCal it’s a solid seven hour drive and that’s with one gas/bathroom pitstop. The reality is that it usually takes considerably longer since we have to generally make multiple stops on the way in for a million minor necessities. You’ve never appreciated your friendly neighborhood auto parts or hardware store so much until you are three hours away from the nearest one and in need of something so minor it might not otherwise raise so much as an eyebrow.

VVR Crew, 1997

It’s been 17 seasons cooking up there for me this summer, myself and Lester  being the “last of the Mohicans” as far as early employees. VVR caters primarily to through hikers on the John Muir and Pacific Crest Trails as well as fishermen plying Edison Lake for the big one. And there’s some lunkers out there, believe me.

Over the years I have become a big fan of purchasing good equipment. I would no sooner head there without my Filson gear than I would without my Winchester model 94 and favorite set of blades. Summer can be downright balmy but the spring and fall can be plenty cold and wet. I’ve endured quite a few sleet storms with a quiet assist from my cape coat while my highlander boots and merino socks keep me toasty and dry while slogging through the mire of Kaiser Meadow. My medium field bag is perfect for a quick 3-nighter while filling in for one of the other cooks while my large outfitter bag makes magic when I pack it for a longer stay.

Now if they just made a knife roll…….

A kitchen is a lot like a car, they all have the same basic components surrounding the driver’s seat but every one feels different. That is what it is like to cook in a new shop. When you get behind the wheel of an unfamiliar car the skills are all there, it just takes a few moments to get used to the new layout. Same thing in a new kitchen. The tempura station at The ReTreat was set up in a certain way and I used it as such for years. Coming out the gate with a dissimilar setup was awkward at first but I got used to it.

Cody nailed it with his fresh roll, his version of a Vietnamese standard. He used smoked salmon from Bear Flag Fish Company, brined in brown sugar and Mirin and then slow smoked. Stunning with the fresh veggies and fried wonton skin. The dipping mixture was perfect too, a blend of pineapple and sweet chili sauce.

I like doing my Tri-Tip with an Asian setup, the daikon makes a nice digestive and the carrot and Thai basil offset the smoky/marinade flavor of the beef. This is one of the dishes that best displays where our culinary worlds overlap.

Cody giving Chef Aron the thumbs up.

A special thanks to everyone that came down, and an extra big shout out to The Crosby crue who did a great job with a new team and menu. Thanks also to Aji-San for coming down and shooting video for us.

The next one will be in the Sobeca district of Costa Mesa in April, stay tuned for details!

My ancestors on that side were salt-of-the-earth Germans and Transylvanians who immigrated to Pennsylvania to toil in the infernal heat of the steel and tube mills. America, to them, was a land of promise where, through hard work and integrity, one could get ahead. My maternal Grandfather, John Kloos, toiled away to provide for his family and raise four wonderful children. Now, that may not be as glamorous as San Francisco in the early 1900′s but it doesn’t mean any less. Humility and fierce family loyalty were in their blood. He had first generation American relatives who served proudly during World War II, all of them returning safely home thanks to the loving prayers of my great grandparents. John himself was excluded from serving, his talents at the mill were required at home for the war effort.

I just got back from handling some family business in western PA and was fortunate enough to reconnect with some distant and not-so-distant relatives. It was wonderful. I also got a chance to see Pittsburgh for the first time. It’s a beautiful city, settled in a shallow valley at the confluence of three rivers. (A side note: if you’re nutty for old bridges it’s the town for you!). Being from out West it was a bit different from what I was used to, definitely “post-industrial”. The local spirit seems to still lament for the bustling mills that once powered the local economy. Wifey and me were able to spend an afternoon there, popping by Heinz Field (I’m a Steelers guy) and taking in the sights downtown.

Now Los Angeles has Philipe’s, San Francisco has the Buena Vista, New York has pizza and Philadelphia has those damn tasty cheesesteaks. What does Steel Town have? Well, apparently, the one stop you simply have to make is at Primanti Brothers.

Opened in 1933, the original one is in what’s called “The Strip” section of town. Once bustling with merchants and traders proffering goods straight off the waterfront, it is now mostly an area of restaurants and bars, with some gentrified lofts going in as well. It reminded me a bit of the Embarcadero in San Francisco: lots of history, cool vibe and a nice way to spend a few hours.

Inside it is reminiscent of The Pantry in LA. Mostly original fixtures, simple hearty food and straightforward service. No printed menus, two large painted signs display the fare. Their schtick is serving sandwiches with cole slaw and french fries in them. The slaw is great, more vinegar than mayo and a nice fine shred. The fries are In N Out style, a bit thicker cut, perhaps. Wifey ordered the Genoa salami and cheese, a couple generous slices thrown on the grill quickly and topped with provolone. Pretty darn good.

The corned beef was calling my name but, when I asked the waitress if the sausages were house-made, it was a no brainer. (Although, next time, I’ll be sure to get the corned beef since it’s another one of their signature dishes.) The sausage sandwich was piled high with meat and the fry/slaw combo. Really nice with a couple cold Rolling Rocks. They don’t use plates, sandwiches come served on a couple sheets of waxed paper. I’m a big fan. Everything else on the menu was hearty and basic, I saw one of their fried fish sandwiches go out, it looked…well….good enough to eat! Price point was pleasant too -  a couple sandwiches and some beers for 30 bucks, including a generous tip.

The neighborhood was mellow during the day. I bet at night it can get a little sketchy and the joint is open 24 hours a day. There were security cameras in the downstairs hallway outside the ladies room – kinda freaked Wifey out and I assume they have them there for good reason. However, it’s worth the trip there for sure and they have a few other locations around town if you want to play it safe.

The long and short of it is, whether you have an afternoon or a week to spend in Pittsburgh, check this place out. Well worth it.

Chef Aron approached me awhile back about doing this and I was enthusiastic from the start. The Crosby was the second act of the downtown revival and literally turned the place around when it kicked off. New local businesses were foundering a bit, the economy was starting to slow down and Santa Ana was being slightly less than cooperative. Then, voila, along comes The Crosby, breathing new life into the Artists Village. The biggest thing that struck me when they opened was the amount of new faces from distant locales that were making their way down. ID’s from Long Beach, Pasadena, Los Angeles and San Diego were suddenly being pulled from wallets at the local bars and a whole new set became exposed to downtown. We are proud to partner with them for the event.

This is a reservation only event, four course prix fix menu at 45.

The 21st will feature some favorites from our former shop, The {re}Treat, as well as some new dishes. Our next popup will be in Sobeca, mid-April, so stay tuned!

Nothing like an evening cable car ride

Face it; California cannot claim the same history as say, Boston or Philadelphia. Aside from the wonderful Mission system and a few Spanish ranchos and settlements, it was pretty sleepy hereabouts until the Bear Flag rebellion of 1846 and subsequent Gold Rush of 1849. So what history remains is precious to say the least.

One of the crown jewels of the local saloon scene is the Gold Dust Lounge, operated as such since 1933 but the room itself has been utilized since 1922. Located in the otherwise irritatingly gentrified Union Square, it a favorite of many a local and tourist, an absolute oasis in a sea of lame, trendy restaurants and corporate bars. The interior is wholly spectacular, harkening back to a bygone era. It is a must stop when I am staying in the area, a short hop from several of my favorite hotels and close to the cable cars to make a run to the Top Of The Mark or The Fairmont.

Well, apparently the landlord tried to slip a fast one by the aging owners, allegedly changing the terms of their lease and evicting them under the pretense that they were going to build an escalator to access upper level retail space (at least that’s the story I heard). Recently, the truth has come out that the real driving force behind the whole thing is (eccchhhhhh) Express, a perfect example of unoriginal, soulless consumer culture. And they already have a location a short five minute walk away.

The only thing more insulting than replacing The Gold Dust with an escalator is replacing it with an Express. Escalators are interesting by comparison.

There have been other examples attempting to rid San Francisco of cherished institutions, even the famed cable cars. In 1947, Mayor Roger Lapham proposed the closure of two lines. In response, a joint meeting of civic groups, led by the irrepressible Frieda Klussmann, formed the Citizens’ Committee to Save the Cable Cars. In a famous battle of wills, the citizens’ committee eventually forced a referendum on an amendment to the city charter, forcing the city to continue operating the lines. This passed overwhelmingly. I haven’t read anything official but I heard The Tonga Room recently dodged the condo bullet, at least temporarily and after a mighty public outcry. San Francisco can rally to save its institutions when it needs to.

How will this turn out? Their lease technically expires March 10^th, but they are suing, claiming elder abuse. As of this writing the whole thing is headed to court, locals and tourists alike are up in arms about this. Willie Brown has lent his support to the cause as well.

I love drinking in The City

We need Express on Union Square as much as we need the Death Star there. Check out The Gold Dust Facebook page and lend your support!

Casa de Mau, 1970

Most people are unaware I grew up in Arcadia. My folks moved there from San Francisco when I was just a baby and we lived off Baldwin Ave south of the main drag until I was 12. That was a wonderful time. Dionne Warwick’s “Do You Know the Way to San Jose” was still playing on the radio, and Earthquake (the movie) came out shortly after the Sylmar temblor, which rocked me out of my bed. Everything cool was coming out of Menlo Park and my parents’ kitchen was awash in a sea of avocado-colored appliances, including a massive first-generation microwave. I lived a couple miles from the San Gabriel location and it was where we went with both sets of Grandparents when they were in town. As children we called it “Snow Top” and I still get excited as a 6 year old kid every time I see the place. No joke.

The two salad challenge.

The North Woods Inn is home to lumberjack-sized portions of food piggybacked with their amazing garlic cheese bread and duo of salads. The double salad thing is a one-two punch of very basic iceberg with bleu-cheese style dressing, followed up by a crunchy mound of mildly pickled red cabbage in vinaigrette. Mix the two and you are in roughage heaven. The cheese bread is absolutely spot on, a perfect blend of whipped butter and spices, unchanged since day one. You can buy a tub there and it is also available at a few retail outlets (I think Stater’s still carries it).

The sandwiches are great, gigantic portions of meat piled high on rye or their specially baked roll served with rice pilaf and salad. It’s a meal in itself, perfect with an ice-cold schooner of Sierra Nevada (or stiff cocktail). If you dare tackle their entrees, be prepared.

I am notorious for my massive servings of food, a trait I’m actually quite proud of. The North Woods Inn serves a plate that is substantial even by my standards. I’m a big hamburger steak guy, and they do it right with lots of grilled onions and a perfect char. All their large plates are served with a monster baked potato (topped with either garlic butter or mushroom gravy) and rice pilaf. Carb heaven. Their steaks and seafood are amazing in their simplicity. I tackled, and was almost defeated by, their 25-ounce porterhouse one time but emerged victorious. Their large surf and turf combo dinners are wonderful too, I would suggest coughing up a couple bucks and splitting the plate though.

The North Woods Inn gets double-thumbs up from me, with an extra thumb thrown in just for good measure. Next time you are up that way make a stop.

Dustin enjoyng some campfire cuisine.

In my bag of tricks is an amazing vintage Lodge Dutch oven, I’m guessing 40+ years old and perfectly seasoned. I use it as my go-to piece of gear up in the mountains; usually pack it with a couple plates and my camp cooking basics (olive oil, Pappy’s, garlic, etc). There are quite a few meals that are perfect to start early and let sit fireside while you enjoy whatever it is you decide to do. If you get a fire going in the morning to make coffee and warm up, the leftover coals are perfect for slow cooking your evening meal. Here are my two faves and how to build them.

Red Potato Hash

I came up with this at the end of a trip to Vermilion with the Reverend Gary Gomez and Wolfie from Hot Rod Lincoln many years ago. It was the last night and we had some nice steaks but were kind of at the bottom of the barrel otherwise. I had some red potatoes, onions and peppers left over. Here’s what I came up with:

6-8 Medium red potatoes-boiled al dente

2 Medium red onions-diced

2 Red bell peppers-diced

¼ Cup olive oil

1 Cup grated parmesan cheese

5 Cloves garlic, minced

1 Tsp crushed red chiles

Salt and pepper to taste

This one’s easy. Just loosely mash ingredients together in Dutch oven and cover with lid. Let it sit fireside for a few hours and you’ll have a perfect side dish for burgers or steaks later.

Beer and Beef Stew

In all humility, I make a pretty damn mean stew. My big secret is using Budweiser for the broth instead of water or stock, something about the flavor of it adds quite a bit. I also brown the meat with flour in the bottom of the Dutch oven (along with a little extra four); this makes for a flavorful roux to thicken it. Here’s how I do it:

1 3 Pound chuck roast, well marbled

1 cup Olive oil (bacon grease is better)

3 Large potatoes-cubed

2 Medium yellow onions, chopped.

Any veggies you have lying around. If using canned make sure you drain them first.

1 Cup flour

2 Cans Budweiser

Seasoned salt

Pepper

Crushed red chiles

2 Tsp garlic powder

4 Dried bay leaves

A plastic shopping bag

Cube the roast. Put flour in bag and season to taste. Put beef in bag and toss. Heat oil in Dutch oven and put meat in to brown along with a palm sized portion of the flour (Don’t put bag in Dutch oven!). Brown meat well, scraping the bottom to get all the good stuff up. Add veggies, onions, taters and stir in. Add beer and bay leaves and bring to a boil. Seal lid tightly and leave on top of coals. If someone is staying in camp for the afternoon have them give it a stir once in awhile. 4 hours later, you’ve got your stew. Some nice parsley biscuits are perfect for this, but I’ll save that recipe for next time.

Enjoy!