Slow Food for Alice and I
My birthday toast to Alice Waters and a recipe for the best damn Brussels sprouts ever.
This year, my birthday celebration was a stark comparison to my 50th birthday festivities. Last year, we flew to California for a week, ate incredible food, explored the countryside, drove the coastline, found local gems, and visited with family and friends.
My birthday dinner was at the famed Berkeley restaurant Chez Panisse, opened in the 80s by author and food activist Alice Waters. The innovative menu, driven by in-season ingredients grown locally, organically, and sustainably, is credited for the creation of California cuisine as well as the farm-to-table movement. At one time, they held a Michelin star.
Since it is difficult to score a reservation here, and because we aren’t rich, we ate in the limited-menu Cafe above the main restaurant.
Chez Panisse Cafe is not one of those frou-frou restaurants where an orchestrated group of seven waiters descend upon one table to pour water into four glasses simultaneously. It is also not one of those places where your steak and potatoes order arrives with three thinly sliced pieces of rare beef arranged atop potato foam with two perfectly placed green beans on the side. The service here is warm and friendly, prompt but not intrusive, and extremely helpful, without an air of pretension. While we didn’t leave with a take-home box, the portions were more than satisfying.
Each plate arrived at our table crafted with meticulous attention to the quality of its simple ingredients. My little gems salad, for example, tasted so fresh I imagined someone walked outside with my ticket in hand to pick the lettuce. There is something comforting in knowing exactly where your food comes from.
The kitchen at the Cafe is open, giving diners a front-row seat to chefs composing freshly made pasta dishes, salads like my little gems, and warming soups. In the background is the woodfire oven that churns out hundreds of pizzas each service. Large bowls of in-season fruits and vegetables sit on the counters, evocatively preparing you for what is in store. These little details make it feel like a home rather than a restaurant.
As a young aspiring chef, I respected Alice Waters and the exciting things transpiring at Chez Panisse. I took note of the names that worked in that kitchen over the years: Jeremiah Tower, Dan Barber, Paul Bertolli, David Lebovitz, and Samin Nosrat. I read about them often in food magazines like Gourmet, giving me a glimpse of the Berkeley culinary scene. I admired their work, their ethos, and their drive for perfection.
Alice Waters's activism and dedication to the farm-to-table movement was pivotal in changing how we consume food. She established the Edible Schoolyard Program, a nonprofit that teaches children how to plant, harvest, and prepare food as part of their curriculum. She was presented with Restaurant Magazine’s Lifetime Achievement Award and is undoubtedly one of the most influential figures in American cooking in the last 50 years.
Growing up with few female role models, it wasn't lost on me that her accomplishments happened in a male-dominated industry. That made her a badass in my book. So when deliberating where to have dinner on my 50th birthday, which happens to fall on International Women’s Day, the choice was clear. Go to Chez Panisse. It did not disappoint.
My 51st birthday this year, while no less satisfying, was the mirror opposite. No hoopla. No fancy dinner. No trips. I ate a late brunch at a restaurant less than a mile away and was in my pajamas by 6 PM. Apparently, this is what happens when you hit 51. I wonder what happens after 60? Does each successive birthday bring an earlier bedtime? At 70, can I stay in pajamas all day? If so, I’m in.
Alas, the entry into my Slow Girl Era came as I expected. Quietly, calmly, deliberately.
In years past, I would spend weeks scouting the hottest, trendiest restaurants in Chicago and insist on dining at one for my birthday dinner. By insist, I mean I would make a reservation for two and tell my significant other what to wear and when to be ready. As a result of my diligent research, we had meals from some of the best chefs and restaurateurs in the city. Most notably, Rick Tramonto, Rick Bayless, Gale Gand, Paul Kahan, Paul Virant, Stephanie Izard, Jean Joho, Tony Montuano, and Jimmy Bannos. However, some of my favorite finds were lesser-known local gems with unknown chefs who are experts at their craft.
Nowadays, any restaurant research I do is not as much about the chef as the length of the drive, the parking situation, how crowded it will be, how long the wait is for a table, what the noise level is like, and do they offer an early bird special. This is why I spent my 51st birthday at home and in my pajamas. I have little energy for jumping through hoops to eat a meal.
In my mind, however, I still taste each one of those special meals: the freshness of that little gems salad at Chez Panisse, the caramelization of the cannelles at Tru, the sweet, earthiness of the short rib mole at Topolobampo, and the richness of the duck confit at Bayona from the year I insisted on going to New Orleans.
The stillness of my 51st birthday allowed me time to reminisce about some of those fantastic feasts. Drawing on my still-fresh memories of Chez Panisse Cafe and a plethora of local, organic, seasonal produce, I leaned into Alice Waters's philosophy of slow cooking with simple, fresh ingredients.
I try to make environmentally conscious choices when I buy food. As a result, I tend to purchase my fruits and veggies from local growers or Misfits Market. Not only does it keep my dollars local and reduce my carbon footprint, but the produce is much fresher and more flavorful than what I buy at the grocery store.
Armed with the latest winter bounty, I spent my 51st birthday week in my Zen Den, aka the kitchen. I made roasted delicata squash with tahini dressing, koginut squash risotto (koginut is similar to butternut), kale and potato soup, two sourdough loaves, sourdough pizza dough (that I froze for later), and some of the best Brussels sprouts I have ever put in my mouth.
These Brussels sprouts are way better than anything you may have had at a restaurant. Crunchy pistachios add texture, while a dressing of balsamic vinegar, honey, and lemon juice balances the bitterness of roasted brassicas. Finished with another drizzle of balsamic and a healthy dose of grated Parmesan, these flavorful little cabbages are highly addictive. Last week, I whipped up a one-pound batch of these bad boys, and we ate them all for dinner right out of the pan.
The best part about this recipe is that anyone can make it in under 30 minutes. Easy peasy. Choose an aged balsamic vinegar for the dressing and drizzle. Along with the honey, its thicker consistency will cling to each sprout for an explosion of flavor in every bite. I purposely made this meatless, but you can add some prosciutto or bacon for an added kick if it suits you.
Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Pistachios Recipe
BY JOY SCHOEPH
Prep: 10 mins Bake: 20 to 25 mins Total: 30 to 35 min Serves: 2-4
Description: Crunchy pistachios add texture, while a dressing of balsamic vinegar, honey, and lemon juice balances the bitterness of the roasted Brussels sprouts.
Ingredients:
1 lb fresh Brussels sprouts, halved
2 T EVOO or vegetable oil
1/4 C chopped pistachios
2 T honey
2 T aged balsamic vinegar
1 T fresh lemon juice
Grated Parmesan cheese
Drizzle balsamic glaze (optional)
Sea salt
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 450F.
Toss the halved Brussels sprouts in the EVOO and then roast on a pan for 20-25 minutes, or until edges and cut side of sprouts are browned.
While they are roasting, mix together the honey, balsamic, and lemon juice in a bowl. Add the pistachios and stir to coat. Add salt to taste.
When the Brussels sprouts are done cooking, toss them with the pistachio mixture. Transfer to a plate and top with a drizzle of balsamic glaze (the thick, syrupy kind) and freshly grated Parmesan cheese.
Tips:
You don’t need to buy expensive aged balsamic to pull this off. Just make sure it is more on the syrupy side than fluid. Blended with the thick honey, it will still coat the Brussels sprouts well.
This newsletter is dedicated to Penny, our beloved rescue. May she forever run free.