Zorba’s Dinner

Traditional moussaka at the Greek Fest.

By Marilyn Hunter

Last week, we celebrated another year at the annual LA Greek Fest, a three-day festival of culture, music, dancing and great food.

We splurged on gyros, souvlaki, spanakopita and moussaka. The boys got their fill of games and rides and Nick took home the grand prize for the Zorba Night Dance Contest which was quite a feat as he competed against dancers of all ages and skills. We think it was his enthusiasm and two missing teeth that hooked the judges. It didn’t hurt that his name is Nicholas. I had to accept the grand prize of “very old Metaxa Greek brandy” since he’s only six.

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Chickpea Lessons in a Taxicab

By Andrew Hunter

With my travel schedule, I end up in a lot of taxicabs. I’m always curious about the drivers, where they’re from, and if they’re professionals, craftsmen or artists from a faraway place. Since it’s rude to ask such questions directly, I usually engage in conversation and their stories typically come flowing forth.

Meet Kareem, a Palestinian driver in Phoenix. I jumped into his taxi yesterday wearing my chef jacket; Kareem called me “Chef” with a reverence of someone from a fancy hotel background…turns out he once worked for the Ritz-Carlton. I reciprocated by asking respectful questions of him, which evolved into a discussion on mezze platters. I’m working on a mezze concept and so am especially interested.

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Curiosity, Courage and Confidence

Chefs are an odd lot. We have the stamina to work long hours, the courage to experiment and be improvisational, and the creative fuel to cook delicious food every day. Actually, this means we’re more foolhardy than odd, but we all have lots of tricks and techniques we’ve learned over the years that help us in a pinch.

I thought it would be fun to share a few tricks of the trade with you every few weeks ... it’s like a peek behind the kitchen doors. And remember, regardless of a chef’s character, our curiosity, courage and confidence is what separates the good from great. I tell my boys all my secrets, though I think they’re sick of hearing them, so I hope you enjoy!

Salt: Why you’ll only see kosher and sea salts in a respectable kitchen; never iodized.

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City Boy, Country Boy

By Andrew Hunter

Sometimes I wonder how two boys from the same family could choose such different paths in life. This time, I’m not talking about Ben and Nick, but my brother Tony and me.

I live in a densely populated urban center. My view at night is houses and bright lights. Tony lives in a sparsely populated rural sprawl that can’t be found on GPS. His view at night is trees and moon shadows. Tony’s a pharmacist and I’m a chef, but we both love cooking with family and friends in our chosen locales.

He’s the kind of guy who digs a deep hole every Thanksgiving in frozen earth to cook a giant ham with hot rocks buried in dirt. While I prefer stirring Arborio rice and butternut squash together over a giant propane burner from the Chinese hardware store to make creamy risotto.

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Snake Dogs

By Andrew Hunter

Stretching for miles in a sprawling Los Angeles canyon is Griffith Park. We love Griffith because there’s an observatory, museums, hiking, biking, swimming, horseback riding, a working historic train, and a multitude of snack shops that keep us well nourished and hydrated during our strenuous weekend activity.

The crown jewel of snack shops is “The Trails,” a shack built to blend into the landscape. It’s the California hippie version of Manhattan’s Shake Shack. If you’re in Griffith and can’t find “The Trails,” just look for the long line of people waiting for a slice of pie, a lavender cookie, a sprout sandwich, or if you’re Ben and Nick, a Snake Dog.

Snake Dogs are like pigs in a blanket, only much cooler – a frankfurter wrapped in a coil of puff pastry, then baked so it looks like a snake slithering across the picnic table. We’ve started making Snake Dogs at home. Here’s a recipe so you can pack Snake Dogs in the picnic basket for your next trip to the Griffith Park where you live.

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