The Cooking Critic

Once upon a time I didn’t like mushrooms. I went through a sad, mushroom-less existence until I happened upon my 20s, then suddenly I became a convert. I wish I could remember the exact moment the mushroom caught my eye, what I was wearing, if I sauntered across a crowded dance floor toward the buffet table initially distracted by some canapés while “Do You Believe in Magic” played in the background. I don’t know how it happened exactly, but clearly I saw the mushroom warranted my attention. Now, to make up for my earlier mistake, I consume as many mushrooms as humanly possible. I’m not picky: shitake, portobello, crimini. I love them all. If a dish on a menu includes this vegetable, it’s very likely I’ll order it for the mushrooms alone. The steak that comes with it is just a bonus.

With my love of the mushroom has come an addiction to cream of mushroom soup—there are worse addictions—and I make it regularly. I have a recipe from a William-Sonoma book that takes some time but is exceptionally good, and then I have this Mushroom Soup from Real Fast Food, which is much easier, not quite as wonderful, but still amazingly satisfying. This soup is especially good when you dunk some slices of baguette in it. (I recently became a dunker of bread into soups and sauces as well.) A glass of red wine tastes good with it too.

Adjustments: I heated the soup again after whirring it around with the cream in the food processor. And since my milk’s expiration date had passed, I used double the cream and no milk at all—the recipe called for equal parts milk and cream. Also I added a bit of Madeira wine while the soup warmed back up and sprinkled chopped parsley on the finished product. And this is a thin mushroom soup, so if you like yours thicker, reduce the liquids.

Assessment: Soup! I love it! This one’s good! But not spectacular! But easy! I recommend it!

My alternative guacamole reigned supreme at Guac Bowl ’06 and all is right with the world. First, a quick recap of the winners (very punny for the uninitiated):

Best Traditional Guacamole: Guac Cousteau (Lisa and Jason VanBorssum)
Best Presentation: Guactanamo Bay (Melissa MacRae)
Best Alternative Guac: Tequila Guacingbird (me! Me me me me!)
Icarus Award (for the one who flew too close to the sun): Guac-king Stuffers (or stockings filled with peppermint guac and Christmas carols playing in the background, Brandon Oropallo)

Let me take you through my day:

Woke up. Made guacamole. This year I was going to use a really basic recipe (avocados, red onions, jalapeño, lemon, cilantro, salt) and just add a couple of teaspoons of tequila with the alcohol cooked out to make it alternative. I used a Meyer lemon thinking this was my second secret weapon next to the tequila since Meyer lemons are supposed to be the best lemons in the world. As it turns out, I wouldn’t recommend using a Meyer lemon in guacamole. Meyer lemons should stick to desserts.

Between the Meyer lemon and the tequila, my guac was the most mouth-puckering thing you’ve ever tasted. So, I panicked. I tried to fix this first with salt, then more avocado, then more salt. Then desperately I threw in cumin and garlic powder. I eyed the remains of the Taco Seasoning Mix I made recently, and that got tossed in the bowl too. Then more cumin. Then it tasted too much like cumin, so I had to add another avocado. More cilantro, onion and salt followed. At one point, I lost my mind and added more tequila and lemon. I simply can’t explain what was going through my head at this point. So I sat there staring at what was sure to be losing guacamole trying to think of something to combat the tartness. Sour cream and mayonnaise came to mind, but being tangy in their own right, this made absolutely no sense. So I thought about lemon squares and margaritas and what kept the lemon flavor from seeming sour. Sugar! I poured in sugar. Relief—it tasted better! So more and more sugar was poured into the mix until the guacamole became mildly addictive.

When I got to Guac Bowl held at the Adam Pava residence, which is the premier food event of Atwater Village—why I’m not hosting the premier food event of Atwater, no one knows—there were already some strong competitors in place. The Guac-Ness Monster sat steaming in a bath of dry ice, ambrosia guac tasted shockingly better than expected, guacaroni and cheese was still warm and one of the two Guactanamo Bays was already taking up a fourth of the table space. I set out my tequila shot glasses filled with guac, stuck some birds I got from an arts and craft store in a few glasses and hoped for the best.

Competition got stiffer as the afternoon progressed with pomegranate guac, grilled cactus guac, blood orange and fennel guac and a guac called The Emancipation Guaclimation that stood in protest of the entire Guac Bowl organization and its desire to turn the usually passive guacamole into instruments of competition. There were many other amazing entries, but this blog entry is already long, and I simply can’t name them all.

Ballots were secret and clearly marked, and the winners were announced at halftime. I now have an enormous trophy of a man holding a wreath who appears only to be wearing underwear. Perhaps he’s a swimmer? And I’d post my guac recipe if I remembered how in the world I made it. I hope y’all enjoyed it while it lasted. It was a one-time thing.

And I think Pittsburgh won the football game that some people seemed to be watching.

(For Adam’s pictures, go to: homepage.mac.com/pundog.)

So I’ve been feeling tired and low on iron and determined the best way to rectify this is to eat red meat. I’m not sure why taking iron pills isn’t the solution, but it wasn’t. I decided to make Stir-Fried Beef with Broccoli and Mushrooms. I think because that’s what I get when I order Thai food.

So this dish seemed to take longer that the 30 minutes it claimed, and I ended up with a boring bowl of beef and broccoli doused in an uninspiring sauce. I think the grocery bill was more expensive than had I ordered takeout. And I usually look forward to leftovers. But I found an excuse to eat something different the next day.

Also, is it me or does fresh ginger looks like a deformed animal paw? I think ginger is to food what the opossum is to animals. And what I mean by that is they are both ugly.

Assessment: Here’s the number of Leela Thai: 323-660-6100. If you’re in L. A., get their Beef and Broccoli instead.