Olives, A Love/Hate Story

Growing up, I had a conflicted relationship with olives. On one hand, the bitter meatiness of the jarred black olive offended my childish palate. On the other hand (literally and figuratively) the black spheres were the only food that I was given license to play with. Putting a black olive on each fingertip and eating one by one was a way to keep both child and adult entertained in the pre-dinner hour. So I suffered through the olive, if nothing else because I wanted to play with my food.

Flash forward some twenty years to my little stint of living in Italy, and my lifelong prejudice against olives quickly dissolved. The medley of green, purple, and shriveled black delights stripped away my assumptions that all olives were created equally and mono-flavored. Some were hearty and meaty, some were squishy with a bit of sweetness. Some were enhanced with  herbs and aromatics. I was hooked.

But back stateside, I was faced with a dilemma. The olives that I love the most - the herb-y aromatic kind, are expensive. One of my true happy places is the Whole Foods olive bar, where the tiny fruits are dressed and coiffed in flavorful, herbaceous concoctions. I am giddy with delight as I scoop the olives into a takeout container, only to be riddled with guilt and regret when I hit the checkout stand. Spending $15 on something that might actually be gone before I get home seems fiscally irresponsible.

This journey through my struggle is all to let you in on a little, cost effective secret a friend recently shared with me. Not only is it easy to cure olives tailored precisely to your tastebuds’ desire, but that is exactly what the Greeks and other olive-loving cultures do. That watery solution in the jar? It’s just for transport. The real olive lovers of the world dump the liquid, and create their own oily marinade. The olives are just the canvas - not the finished product.  

So now I’ve also started concocting my own olive marinades. The recipe that I have been experimenting with is a riff on my favorite herby, garlic-y version Whole Foods, but here is one that my friend gave me. They’re easy, affordable, and totally customizable. Enjoy!

Olives, Bespoke Style

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 cups Olive Oil
• 1 head** Garlic
• 2 Tbsp Rosemary
• 1/2 tsp chile flakes 
• 1 tsp Oregano
• 1 tsp Mustard seed
• 1 Quart Olives - pick your favorite variety

1. Strain the olives and place in a large bowl.

2. Over low heat, warm the olive oil and herbs/spices/aromatics in the a saucepan. Heat for about 5 minutes, but if you're using garlic, make sure you don't fry it. 

3. Pour the now delightfully infused olive oil over the olives. MIx and let cool. Enjoy! 

**I REALLY like garlic. I may even go a bit overboard when it comes to the stuff. A more balanced approach is probably about 3-5 cloves, depending on their size. 

Chef Spotlight: Michale Mazaferri of Aly's on Main

Michael Mazaferri: cook, restaurant owner, philosopher.

Michael Mazaferri, owner of Aly’s at 911 Main St., prefers ”cook” to “chef.” 

No shrinking violet, Mazaferri is to Mansanto the way Uber compares itself to the taxi industry. “I want to encourage people to ask questions about their food, to have higher expectations,” Mazaferri said.

His mission: make organic, sustainable and GMO-free food the norm, not the exception.

“I had a customer tell me that I am politicizing food,” he recalled, “but I told him food was politicized a long time ago. I’m just picking a side.”

Choosing his side of the food divide was the natural development of his background. As a freshman studying Aeronautical Engineering at UC Berkeley, he had the opportunity to work for famed farm-to-table chef Alice Waters at Chez Panisse.

Having graduated from Berkeley with a masters degree in Aeronautical Engineering, Mazaferri moved to Italy and attended culinary school in Bologna in the 1990s “just to see what it was I didn’t know.”

Mazaferri’s world, and his perspective on food, shifted off axis when his Italian fiance lost her battle to pancreatic cancer.

“I found myself wandering Europe, lost in a haze. It was when I came back to the states that I started healing through food.” He adopted what was for him a new approach to cooking.

“Before, it was about ego, ‘Look at the beautiful food that I make.’ Then it became about what food is, excitement, nourishment. I started using the best ingredients, not just the most expensive, and developing the philosophy that we employ here today.”

One of Redwood City’s only green-certified restaurants, Aly’s focuses on a gentle food cycle.

Mazaferri explains.

“There is a cycle of life to food, from the soil, to what the animals are fed, to how they are treated, to the farmers and ranchers, down the chain to our hands and our customer’s mouths."

“We want to be a part of a cycle that benefits everyone.”

Aly’s is a family effort. Mazaferri quietly opened in 2013 with his wife, Alison, the restaurant’s namesake.

Every ingredient, down to the flour used to create the handmade pasta and the olive oil drizzled on the salads is organic and GMO-free.

The vegetables, like the caramelized brussels sprouts or the beet salad, which can only be described as brilliant, are sourced from local farms. The grass-fed, often heritage breed meats, are from local ranches. The only ingredient not locally sourced is the Tuscan olive oil.

It might seem that such a high bar would go with high prices, but Mazaferri said that would defeat Aly’s purpose.

  “It’s important to Alison and I that we don’t serve anything we wouldn’t eat ourselves, and that we don’t charge anything we wouldn’t pay. This isn’t about the dollars and cents, it’s about the craft and integrity.”

 The craft and integrity can be tasted from the first bite of prosciutto-wrapped dates to the last spoonful of silky pot de crème. The classics are elevated, such as lamb chops with pistachio pesto, and haute creations like the roasted bone marrow or beef cheek served on pillowy gnocchi, each dish a highlight.

 Not least, there is the burger, a dish of exacting preparation. The meat is butchered and ground in-house, which makes for a hearty patty that is so light and delicate that any other burger will be doomed to hockey puck status. Add the melted 36-month aged cheddar cheese and hand-cut fries, and it’s no one wonder Aly’s was featured on the Bay Area show, Check Please! The exposure, however, means reservations are highly recommended for peak dining hours, or plan to sit at the bar.

Though the aeronautical engineer turned chef turned culinary philosopher and activist has carved a niche in Redwood City’s gastronominc scene, he is not one to settle. He pauses while sharpening a kitchen blade on a whetstone.

 “I want to do something that is even more gentle. I think my next career will be cheesemaking.”

This article was first written for and published by Climate Magazine (www.climaterwc.com). 

Happy Birthday, Tartufo!

I have officially been blogging for one year. And I’ve realized something. Actually, a couple of things. First it’s that the ability to publish keeps writers writing. At least it keeps this writer writing - that and the fact that without Tartufo I'm just someone who eats and drinks with a little too much excess. I've also discovered that writing allows me to express myself while still being protected - I don’t watch you read each post, wondering if you’ll laugh in the places intended to be funny, or notice the typo that slipped through the editing process. Writing is also clarifying my love affair with food - allowing me to explore and think about it from angles and at levels I wouldn’t otherwise. But what has been made even more crystal clear to me is that as with all of life's endeavors, blogging takes a village.

Filming the Belle Meade cocktail video

Now, I am no stranger to begging favors of the people that I love. I like to think of it as appreciating their talents, and using my resources wisely. My mom is nothing short of a saint when it comes to letting me use her kitchen anytime a blog post has a complimentary recipe. Inevitably, this involves taking over her kitchen, turning it completely upside down, and leaving it coated in a film of sugar and flour. And then there is my husband who finds his Saturday mornings taken over by shooting “glamor” shots of the finished product - after all, nothing beats food and morning light.

A blog background is born...

And then there is my dad. Above all else, this year has adjusted the lens through which I see him.. With Tartufo, as with all of my schemes, my dad graciously accepted his fate as my photographer, cartoonist, and videographer. We have worked together on countless projects before, but this time it all feels different. This time I am drawing upon his professional expertise to launch and pursue something on which I am pinning my own professional aspirations. Now, instead of just getting him to take a picture for me, I am learning how he composes a photo, what he takes into consideration with each shot. Our collaborations about design - whether it’s the background photo for this site or the cartoons that accompany each post - almost always involve some kind of friendly banter. Inevitably the root of the issue is that he thinks my idea is too obvious, and I think his version is just shy of mailing his ear to my mother. But we always find a middle ground, and with every project or debate, I see a new side of my dad - not just as “Dad”, but as a person and an artist. I have come to realize this year that it’s not so much that I have a talented dad, it’s that I know this incredible artist and generous spirit who supports the people in his life with neither restraint nor agenda. And if even an ounce of that spirit has been passed down to me, well then he’s given me so much more than a lifetime of free artwork.

The Striped Pig - Redwood City's Speakeasy

At The Striped Pig, the delight is in the details. Part speakeasy, part gourmet riff on bar food classics, Redwood City’s newest restaurant is where a Sidecar can be paired with housemade Pigs in a Blanket or hand-cut curly fries dipped in a squid ink aioli.

    For culinary buddies turned co-owning chefs Andrew Mitchell and Erik Romme, it’s not about recreating the wheel, it’s about perfecting it. “Nowadays, everyone sous vides. It’s like no one knows how to cook anymore. So we decided to steer clear of the sous vides and the chemicals, and just focus on good ol’ cooking,” Mitchell said.

    The emphasis on “good ol’ cooking” is not the just the foundation of The Striped Pig, which opened in October, it’s the basis of Mitchell and Romme’s nearly decade-long friendship. Bonding over similar working styles while cooking together at Menlo Park’s Marché, Romme said, simply, “We just clicked.”

    Though Marché’s closing took the chefs on different paths — Mitchell to Woodside’s Station One and Romme to Madera at Rosewood and the Stanford Park Hotel — the two kept in touch, getting together to cook, cater and collaborate. Conversations about opening a place together ebbed and flowed until they decided to take the leap two years ago.

    From the start, Menlo Park native Mitchell and Colorado-raised Romme knew what kind of restaurant they wanted to open.

    “We wanted a place that we would want to go to on our days off,” said Mitchell, who attended culinary school after discovering a love of cooking while recovering from a snowboarding accident.

    “Yes,” added Romme, “except we’re always closed on our days off!” He laughed at the ironic plight, the curse of many a chef.

    Romme’s career also had an auspicious start. He attended culinary school after being released from the Navy’s nuclear physicist program. Perhaps not so auspiciously, he got his release after being hospitalized for an asthma attack and full-body hives halfway through basic training. If Romme did not know that he was supposed to be a chef and not in the Armed Forces, his body certainly did.

    The chefs also knew where they wanted their first location.

    “We knew we wanted to be in Redwood City, to be a part of this community and the boom that’s happening here,” explained Mitchell.

    For Mitchell and Romme that community has two segments, that of the city at large and that of Redwood City chefs. “The chef circle is great here, we all support each other,” added Romme. They also partner up. In December, Mitchell and Romme paired with craft butcher Ben Roberts of Gambrel to host an intimate, multi-course dinner event. Tickets were limited to fifteen guests, the number of seats at the horseshoe-shaped bar that takes center stage at the restaurant.

    “It gave us a chance to showcase our fine-dining skills, highlight (Roberts’) products, and connect with the community,” Romme said. On the heels of the first event’s success, Mitchell and Romme hope to host similar soirées in the future.

    Knowing the goal was to create a restaurant that they would enjoy as patrons, the decision to focus on cocktails and a menu of elevated bar food at he Striped Pig came naturally.

    “We wanted to focus on craft cocktails and create a menu that paired with the drinks. But we realized that people also want to come in and dine, so we added heartier dishes like the hamburger and Cornish hen,” Romme said. “We had so many ideas when we started creating the menu, it was hard to choose.”

    Narrowing the selection was a challenge; it helped that the chefs were certain of one thing. Everything, except the bread and gelato, would be made in-house. Even the hot dogs for the Pigs in a Blanket.

    “That’s (Romme’s) job, mostly,” Mitchell laughed. “He spends hours just making mini hot dogs.” Romme may have drawn the short straw on that one.

    While Mitchell and Romme enjoyed curating the small plates, the real fun was the cocktail menu.

    “That was a great three weeks. Lots of fun trial and error,” Mitchell said with a devilish grin.

    Split into two categories, classic and crafted, the menu reads one part history lesson, with homage paid to the early days of drinking with Old Fashions and Negronis, and one part adventure story.

    Names of drinks such as the bourbon and Limoncello “Angry Italian” or the bourbon and jalepeño syrup “Blood of a Saint” are insights not just into Mitchell and Romme’s creativity as chefs, but also into the fun that they are having in their partnership and new community.

This article was first published in Climate Magazine (www.climaterwc.com)