Aroma Cucina

Secrets and Seduction in San Sebastian!

Surprise! For months Jeff has been sweetly plotting a surprise trip for my birthday. Finally, our bags were packed and we were off to the mystery destination…San Sebastian, Spain! Woo-hoo!! This has been tops on my Food Mecca Pilgrimage list for quite some time.

It’s not easy to get to from Montone. Drive to Pisa, fly to Barcelona, stay overnight at the Barcelona Airport Hotel (not bad, but wins the prize for worst acoustics in a hotel bar) Then, at last, a crack of dawn flight to San Sebastian.

First reality check: what-the-hell language is on the signposts? What gibberish is Ms. Google Maps speaking? This isn’t Spanish! No, dear, that's because you are in the Basque or Euskal Herria country. Why does San Sebastian have two names? Because Donastia means Sans Sebastian. The Basque language looks like a Scrabble board that’s been upended and has an over abundance of x’s and y’s.

 

We follow Ms. Map’s directions into town, and frankly I’m getting nervous. It’s looking like a very well manicured suburbia. Then we come around the bend and it is jaw droppingly gorgeous. The city has its arms wrapped around the Baie de La Concha like a protective mother. There is a white tiled walkway as far as the eye can see that separates the beach from the city, people are swimming and paddling around, and most of the buildings are stunning Beaux Arts beauties.

  As it is too early to get into our apartment, we start walking around the old part of town until it’s lunchtime.

It’s easy to fall in love with San Sebastian; we were seduced within moments of watching what was happening on the streets. Guys in suits were standing at the corner next to barefoot dudes heading to the beach. Kids were coming back from gym class, holding their surf boards.Stern matriarchal women stopped to listen to street musicians, and every restaurant and bar begs to be explored.

We choose El Caserio as our first restaurant, because it’s old school and thought this might give us some grounding in the local cuisine. Within moments, the restaurant filled up with regulars, except for one large table of French people and us. Jeff had a mildly flavored, but meltingly tender and homey tasting oxtail. I had the traditional baked spider crab, where all the edible meat from a crab is mixed with a roux and baked. The dish is incredibly rich and tasting of the sea.  At this moment, we realize we know absolutely nothing about Basque cooking and like grasping for a life-jacket, we need to get a grip as quickly as possible.

Eventually we wander back to the apartment and lo! And behold! There is another surprise… our siblings and spouses are all there to celebrate with us. They’ve been decorating the apartment while we were lunching and they are hungry!! But we have become The Magnificent Seven and the celebration begins in earnest!

 We are a family that takes its food seriously, so San Sebastian was like being on one of the best treasure hunts you could imagine.  In San Sebastian you do something called a txikiteo or a pintxos crawl.  (I told you it was a crazy language!)  Pintxos are like tapas, only they are bits of food artistry skewered by a pick to a piece of bread. (Pintxos literally means stake or spear.)  The txikiteo is what you do when you go from bar to bar sampling pintxos. It is a fine, fine way to eat, even if you do have to do it standing up. Not to worry, the counters and tables are all chest high, so you can lean and eat.

The advantage of having seven people in your entourage is that you can taste a lot of dishes. The disadvantage is that you usually only get a single bite, and just going silent and hoping no one will notice the dish you are trying to devour does not work with this group. It’s a tough group!

San Sebastian has the highest concentration of Michelin stars per capita. That means there are some extremely good restaurants to tempt you, although this wasn’t the trip for a Michelin exploration. Frankly, I didn’t feel that I knew enough about the basics of Basque cuisine to understand what the top chefs were achieving. This is also my way of making sure we go back.

 

Here’s some of our picks:

Atari

Calle Mayor | Nagusia Kalea

Yeah, it’s touristy, but it’s also a “Pintxos Palace”. As I’m wandering the length of the long bar admiring the beauty of the pintxos, the bartender laughs at me and says, “Welcome to Atari!” in a way that meant, of course they are gorgeous, you are in Atari.  Then he explained the system. You take a few pintxos from the bar, onto your plate. Then you catch the eye of the bartender who mysteriously adds them up and starts running a tab. Now, bear in mind, there are seven of us wandering up to the pintxos offerings, and somehow they kept track. If you want kitchen items then order those at the bar and these are the really good stuff. Dishes like a perfectly seared piece of steak, with a light smear of teriyaki sauce, set on a bright orange puddle of tangy pumpkin sauce, with a swirl of vivid green olive oil. Or small bits of perfectly cured salmon accented with a vanilla cream. Artistry on a plate.

 

Borda Berri

Calle Fermin Calbeton 12

 

Come with a group. Order everything you can. This was my favorite: super crispy salty crunchy pigs ear. The exterior was brown and crunchy, the interior was molten and you swabbed your bite in a slightly sweet sauce that played rock n roll with the rich meat. (I’m using the word meat, but it’s really melted cartilage, but if I say that, you’ll never try it and you won’t know what you are missing.)  Balance the richness of the pig ear with a pleasantly refreshing gazpacho. They do lovely things with foie gras, so be sure to try that as well. And remember to hang on to your fork because if they clean up the plates, you won’t be getting a second one.

 

Casa Valles

Calle de los Reyes Católicos, 10

 Casa Valles is one of the oldest bars in town, near the cathedral on a pedestrian side street. You’ll recognize it by all the hams hanging from the ceiling. Order the jamon (cured ham). Order a large plate of the jamon. It literally melts in your mouth, no chewing required.

I’m also an anchovy addict. I admit it and have no desire to overcome my addiction. They serve the plumpest marinated anchovies I’ve ever had. It’s as if they did a foie thing and pumped them up before they caught them. The fried anchovies, covered in garlic chips, also brought tears to my eyes. Not tears of joy, but of frustration. I had to share the damn anchovies with my Magnificent 7.

Gandarias Jatetxea

C/ 31 de Agosta, 23, 20003 San Sebastian - Donostia, Spain

This taberna is another old-time pintxos bar and restaurant known for its aged steak.  The steak was the perfect combination of aged funk and char. Only word of caution, is to be cautious. The steaks look so good you are tempted to over order.

  But what about the cocktails you ask?

Bar Txurrut

Plaza De La Constitución, 9

Located in the grand Constitution Plaza, Txurrut is the place to go for vermouth cocktails. House-made artisanal vermouth combined with their ‘secret elixir’ will make you a very happy visitor.

And if you are into artisanal vermouth (and if you’re not….why not??) be sure to look up “The International Society for Preservation and Enjoyment of Vermut.” They hold monthly vermouth tasting parties and you can find someone who knows about the society at Pantori, a lovely food shop dedicated to all things local and delicious. They’re still working on their website, but there’s enough there for you to find them.

In the digestive category, give Patxaran a try. It’s a mildly sweet, raisin tasting wine that goes down very easy at the end of a meal.

More than anything, San Sebastian is a place to wander and explore. Try not to go with a set list of places to see and do things, leave plenty of time for serendipity.

We also highly recommend Go Local San Sebastian for a great tour of the city. They offer pay-what-you-want walking tours, or very reasonably priced bike tours. (Go on the bike tour! Our guide Inigo was outstanding, informed, enthusiastic and willing to scale tall walls in search of the last of the season’s blackberries.) Ask Inigo where to go for the best croquettes and cider. It’s way off the tourist track, but worth the short bike ride. GoLocalSanSebastian.com.

Looking forward to our next trip to this warm and welcoming part of the world. Thank you Jeff and thank you Steve, Chris, Rhona, Nancy and Peter for making this one outstanding birthday!!

 

Be Careful What You Wish For

Did you ever have a job that you absolutely hated?  But you needed the job, so you held your nose and did the work? One summer, I worked for an ‘allergist’, or that’s what doctor called himself. He was a racist crackpot, who was probably scamming Medicaid. Every person who walked in to that office got the same diagnosis and treatment. Maybe something else was being sold behind his closed office door. I didn’t know, didn’t care, I just desperately needed that paycheck.

Chris Cosenting came to #MAD4 to tell us about his nose-holding job. Turns out making a deal with the devil that is 'reality' TV can almost kill you.

Chris Cosentino, first and foremost is a respected chef, from the recently closed Incanto to his about to open Cockscomb restaurant in San Francisco. He is a champion of seducing people to love offal. And a bona fide celebrity thanks to “Chef v. City” and “Top Chef Masters”.

In what sounds like a chef's wet dream, he won Top Chef Masters Season 4, and then signed on with the Food Network to do a season of Chef v. City.

[Disclaimer: I know nothing about “reality” food tv. I had to do a marathon watch to be able to write this post responsibly, and now I don’t know how to clear those images from my mind. People were wildly cheering as the four chef contestants choke down the most junk-laden hot dogs on the planet. Who wants to watch chefs eat like this? Clearly, there are plenty of people, and that’s their choice. It’s cooking as entertainment and that’s that.]

 

Cosentino’s motivation was simple: he needed to earn a living, or as he put it, “put braces on my kid’s teeth”.  He’d had a taste of celebrity chefdom, so maybe this did seem like a good idea and a way to promote his restaurant and his style of cooking.

Cosentino hadn’t seen the finished show until it went on the air. To celebrate the airing, he invited some friends to watch along with him. As he watched, his heart sank. “This is not who I am.” He didn’t understand how he’d gotten himself into a situation where he was trashing other chefs. He didn’t understand how he wound up having disgusting food gorging races, where the food is not honored but is just a prop to revolt and entertain the audience. “I’m not a quitter. I had a contract. I had to fulfill the contract.” So, he kept going. Eating massive quantities of chilies until he finally collapsed with third degree alkaline burns in his colon.

He didn’t get rich from TV. He didn’t get more patrons to his restaurant. In fact, his restaurant lost customers because they thought he’d become a sellout.  What did happen, is that he was very sick and it’s taken the better part of year just to be able to eat a tomato again. “I’m an Italian chef and I can’t eat a god damn tomato?”

It’s easy to understand why Cosentino is drawn to TV. He’s good at it. He’s charming, charismatic, enthusiastic, and quick with the comeback.  He did a one episode wonder called “Time Machine Chef” that is so bad, it’s good in an Ed Wood sort of way.  On one hand, you have to wonder; didn’t he read the pilot? Didn’t he have the sense to stay away from the project? But look who is standing there with him on stage…Dave Arnold, Nancy Silverton. These are serious, respected culinary people, so someone was a good a sales person. (Don’t’ get me started on the announcer girl’s outfits. Who dressed her? She looks like Barbie-Gone-Wild meets Annie Oakley.)

Then he made another pilot, called “Chef Unleashed”. It’s as real as it can be. Cosentino goes to Texas and the Broken Arrow Ranch to shoot, field dress and then cook his kill. Anyone who eats meat should watch this. But, it didn’t get picked up. This actually was reality TV and no one could handle it.

 

Cosentino’s talk at MAD was raw and emotional. He was telling his peers that he wasn’t a sellout, he’s still a chef, and the reaction was amazing. People were on their feet cheering him on and letting him know he is a very well respected member of the community.

Later that night, at the after-party, Cosentino and his gracious and down to earth wife, Tatiana Graf, sat at our table. He was warm, generous with his beer, and relieved. When I asked his wife how she held it together during that session, she replied that it’s what Chris needed to close that chapter in his life.

Well then. Good on you Chris Cosentino and Tatiana! Everyone is looking forward to the opening of Cockscomb in San Francisco sometime later this year.   And I know he said, “Be careful what you wish for.”  But I bet everyone is wishing this new restaurant will be successful and that’s nothing to be afraid of.

 Thank you Chef Chris Cosentino for sharing your story at #MAD4.

Grappa Grab: Cooking with Grappa

“Oh, how can you drink that stuff?” ask the tourists and the unintiated. Yes, some grappa can be like drinking throat-stripping hi-test fuel oil, but a good grappa has a grab that tickles your palette and warms the innards. Cheap grappa may be nasty as a digestivio, but it's great for cooking as it has an inherent sweetness that plays nicely with a bit of spice.

The other night we were at Enoteca Wine Club in Umbertide, and they had baby chicken marinated in grappa on the menu. Patrick, one of the owners, and an outstanding sommelier, said he was surprised how much people enjoyed the dish. I was surprised too, because when I cook with grappa, I keep it a secret so I don’t have to go through the whole spiel of “I know you don’t like grappa but…” 

 So Patrick has given me the courage to come clean. I cook with grappa and I’m proud of it.

 

Go out and buy a bottle of cheap grappa. Also buy a bottle of good grappa so you can become better acquainted.

 

Drunken Quail with Garlic Chips on Crispy Saffron Rice

2 quail per person

Grappa, white wine

½ cup of aborio or bomba rice per person

1 ½ cups warm chicken or vegetable stock per person

2 large cloves of garlic per person

1 cup frozen peas (totally optional!)

Olive oil

Salt, fennel pollen if you can get it, smoked spicy paprika, saffron

The Birds

Marinate the quail in grappa for 4-6 hours. Be generous; drown those birdies in the booze.

When it's roasting time, remove the birds from the grappa and discard the grappa. Using scissors, cut the bird open lay each one flat on a baking sheet. Generously salt the birds, and sprinkle them with fennel pollen. Roast at 350F/180C for 30 minutes.

 

The Rice

Use an aborio or bomba variety of rice as these absorb moisture without coming apart like a basmati rice would do. Plan on approximately ½ cup of rice per person, and you’ll need about 1 1/2 cups of stock per ½ cup of rice. Use a vegetable or chicken stock.

 The saffron is optional, but I love saffron so for me, its obligatory. Place a few strands of saffron in a small glass of white wine and let steep while you cook the rice.

Place the rice in a flat-bottomed pan, like a paella pan. I’m hesitant to use the word paella here because people make all different types of paellas and I don’t want to get into a what-is-an-authentic-paella-pissing match, ok? Let’s just call it crispy rice.

Much as you would with a risotto, add a glug of olive oil, turn on the heat to medium and toast the rice. That means roll it around in the oil until everything gets hot and toasty, but don’t brown the rice.Start adding the warm stock to the rice, enough stock to cover the pan and float the rice.

Keep adding stock and stirring the rice as the pan dries out. You want the rice to be about ¾’s cooked. (How to tell if the rice is nearly done: taste a few grains, they should be soft almost halfway through, with still a bit of hard crunch in the middle.) This should take about 10-12 minutes.

 Add the white wine and saffron and the remaining stock to the pan, stir in the frozen peas if you are using them and put the pan in the oven on a rack above the quail.  The liquid will evaporate and the rice will become brown and crispy on top.

The Garlic Chips

Peel 3 to 4 large cloves of garlic. Using a mandolin, thinly slice the garlic. (I use the 2.0mm setting on my mandolin.)

 

In a small pan, add enough olive oil to form a shallow pool to fry the garlic. They need to be able to float in the oil. Heat the oil to 350F/180C (use a thermometer when you fry things, its hard to do this by eye or feel).  Add the garlic slices and fry for 1-2 minutes until they just start to turn golden. Remove the slices from the oil and drain.  Turn the oil off, but don’t discard it because you are going to fry the garlic slices one more time right before serving.

Assembly Time

Remove the quail from the oven and liberally dust with the spicy smoked paprika.

Turn the oven on to broil and broil the surface of the rice. Not too close to the broiler coils; but close enough to give the rice an extra crispy finish.

Reheat the oil to 350F/180C or even a bit hotter. Add the garlic chips and fry again until golden, about 30-45 seconds. Drain the chips and discard the oil.

Remove the rice from oven, arrange the quail on top of the rice, cover with the garlic chips, open a nice bottle of chilled white wine, and now eat!

Great! Now you’ve got one grappa recipe and a mostly full bottle of industrial strength grappa. Mushrooms to the rescue. 

Intoxicated Mushrooms

Fresh mushrooms, whatever kind you can find or that you like

Grappa

Olive Oil, Butter

Shallot, Garlic, Lemon Juice, Salt and a lot of Pepper

Roughly chop the cleaned mushrooms. Finely chop the shallot. Place both in a large sauté pan (big enough so the mushrooms have room to dance around the pot), add a glug of olive oil, a sprinkle of salt, turn the heat onto medium high and cover the pot.  When the mushrooms start to give up their moisture, add a good size glug of grappa to the pan, cover the pan and cook for 1-2 minutes, then uncover the pan and let all of the moisture evaporate.

When the pan is dry and sizzling, turn off the heat, swirl in a knob of butter, add a generous sprinkle of pepper and a good squeeze of lemon juice. Eat while they are mad hot!

 

The mushrooms are so quick, easy and delicious, you’ll use up that bottle of grappa in no time.

 

Now, as for the good grappa? Look for a golden color grappa, that means it’s been in oak and is a softer, warmer flavored grappa. Enjoy a small amount after dinner as a digestivo. Enjoy a large amount after dinner and you risk a magnificent headache in the morning. Always respect the grappa!

Learn to love Ugly Fruit

Let’s say you have 3 kids. One is very tall, one is short and fat and one is absolutely medium in every way. Would you throw out the tall and short ones and just keep the medium one? Probably not. Besides there are laws about throwing your children into the trash just because they aren’t standard size.

Now, let’s say you have 3 ripe tomatoes, but they don't look alike.  In many countries, if you are a vegetable seller, you are required to throw out the odd shaped tomato and only keep the standard tomato. Because after all, when it comes to fresh fruits and vegetables, conformity matters more than waste or taste.  

Sound silly or sinful? Sound outrageous? It is just this sense of outrage that prompted Isabel Soares to start “Fruta Feia” (Ugly Fruit) in Lisbon, Portugal.  Soares came to the MAD chef symposium in Copenhagen to tell us her story.

  While European rules on food conformity are partly to blame, so are supermarkets that insist on standardized sizes and shapes. Shippers have their say as they insist on uniformity to make it easier to pack and ship the fresh produce. In turn, the consumer has been trained to expect to see ‘perfect’ fruits and vegetables, so anything sub-standard is rejected.

The goal of Ugly Fruit is to rescue locally grown non-standardized fruits and vegetables and distribute them to it’s members, much like how a food cooperative or CSA operates. Ugly Fruit is also dedicated to broadening the consumer’s mind about what is acceptable and normal. Soares’s project got its initial startup money as one of three winners of the  Ideias de Origem Portuguesa entrepreneurship prize. This recognition was crucial in raising the additional funds through PPL, a crowd sourcing website.

While the idea of rescuing perfectly good food sounds uplifting and romantic, the reality is a lot of hard work and heavy lifting. Early in Ugly Fruit’s history, they had a supremely bad morning when their produce pick-up van caught fire and literally burned to ashes. A friend rescued them on the side of the road with another vehicle and they were able to pick up their daily round of food from the growers, but they were very behind schedule. Normally it would take 3 hours to break down the food and set up the individual crates for their clients. News of the van’s demise spread throughout the Ugly Fruit community and by the time they returned to their warehouse, there was a crew of willing volunteers to help break down the food in 45 minutes. As Soares told the story, it was at this moment, with everyone pitching in, that she knew this project would succeed.

  The estimates vary on exactly how much food is wasted, but the general consensus is about 50% of food is wasted at some point in the growth-to-table-to-trash cycle.

An additional obstacle the group faced was opposition, or call it suspicion on the part of the growers. As Soares explains, the farmers thought she might have been an under cover agent for the sanitary department. But, if you’re throwing away 25% of your crop because it doesn’t conform, eventually you are going to welcome the arrival of the Ugly Fruit van. It’s not just the waste at the consumer level, but think about the water and soil resources that are also being wasted.

 From startup in November 2013, to just a few months later in late spring of 2014, Ugly Fruit had sold 21 tons of fruit and now has a waiting list of over 1,000 people. That’s a lot of food in a short amount of time. It looks like people have no problem with mis-shapen lemons after all.  Soares has plans to expand to other cities outside of Lisbon, and if goes all as planned, maybe her idea will spread to other countries as well. 

Isabel Soares, thank you for sharing your story at #MAD4.

Addicted to Love & Eggplant

We have a plant in our orto that I call our “Teen Bride”.  She keeps having babies, is totally unsupported, and when you pluck a fruit from her, she shudders as if to say, “Thank you!”. Then she stands a little straighter, brazenly sprouting even more fruit.

Meet Teen Bride.

 I like eggplant, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t LOVE eggplant, until recently. Now, we’re addicted. We tried the eggplant parm (I’ve got a great summer recipe.).  But this eggplant dip is the cause of our addiction.

 

Charred Eggplant Dip

1 eggplant (bigger eggplant, more dip…just make what you need because it tastes better warm and fresh)

Extra virgin olive oil (because only a virgin will do)

Sea salt

Lemon juice (fresh, don’t even think about anything else)

Garlic

Cumin, Smoked Picante Paprika, Sesame Seeds

 There are no measurements here. This is cooking by eye and taste. Get used to using your senses; you’ll thank me in the long run.

 You’re going to need a blender; a robust one, like a Vita Mix. An average strength blender or food processor will certainly do, but you won’t be able to get the super creamy texture.

 

1)   Char the eggplant. Start by piercing the eggplant with the tip of a knife to make steam holes. (If you follow me on Facebook, then you know I blew up the first eggplant in my oven. It made an incredible stringy, hanging-from-the-walls mess).

Broil the eggplant until the insides are soft and the skin of the eggplant is crackling and brittle. Turn the eggplant once or twice to get an even char. This usually takes 7-10 minutes with a medium size, more narrow eggplant.

2)   In a blender, add a good amount of olive oil, starting with a healthy glug. Add a pinch of sea salt, a clove of garlic, and some of the juice from half a lemon. Remember, you can always add more of an ingredient, but it would be a bitch to remove too much salt or lemon juice!

 

3)   While the eggplant is still hot, make a slit from one end to the other and open the eggplant. Using a spoon, scrape the meat from the fruit and add to the blender. Scrape it close to the skin because that’s where the char flavor comes from.  Blend until creamy. Now taste. More lemon? More salt? More garlic? If it isn’t feeling really creamy in your mouth, add another glug of olive oil.

 

Garnish with a sprinkle of cumin, a good amount of picante smoked paprika and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Serve with some warm flat bread.

 No matter how much I make, we lick the bowl clean and fight over the last drops. Honestly, two grown people fighting over eggplant? That’s ridiculous and undignified. It must be love….and addiction. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

 

 

 

What is cooking in a mad, mad, mad, mad world?

What happens when Rene Redzepi and his merry band of pranksters bring together a gaggle of chefs and culinary people to talk about “What Is Cooking”? It becomes a MAD affair!

MAD is a  community of thoughtful people who care about food and the impact the restaurant community can have on how we eat. Every summer they erect a giant red circus tent and hold an annual conference in Copenhagen. This year, I got to go and it was inspiring, whimsical, heart wrenching and good fun.

I also have to confess; I have a complete crush on Rene Redzepi. He’s completely human, humble and approachable. I imagine he’s quite intense in the Noma kitchen, but this is as it should be when you have the number one restaurant in the world. On the second morning, he greeted every single attendee with a good morning kiss and a hug and that gets my vote for keeping it real.

Picture this opening moment: lots of people riding high on the excellent coffee that was served in the breakfast tent. It's a cacophony of conversations, photos, greetings and meetings all going on at top volume. And then we’re told to head to the main tent.

You shuffle into one of the entrances and now you try to find a seat on the bleachers but it’s really dark and your brain is being blasted by LOUD heart thumping rock music. It’s the kind of music that tattoos your brain for the rest of the day.  On your seat is a tote bag that has the program of the day’s speakers, but it’s too dark to read it, so you’re still wondering what’s going on. (Note: To keep us all speculating, the list of speakers was kept top secret.)

And then the music stops. The crowd settles in and grows quiet.

A man and a woman in a kimono walk onto the stage.

Without saying a word, the man pours flour into a shallow red bowl. He adds water. He begins to knead the dough with the familiarity of someone who knows how to listen with his hands.

In absolute silence. 

Within moments, he’s got a viable ball of dough and he moves to a table-top where he rolls out the dough.

In absolute silence.

He picks up a knife and lovingly slices the noodles. (And here there is a collective gasp of knife-envy from the audience because it’s the most beautiful noodle knife cutter we’ve ever seen.) The noodles are dropped into boiling water, then tossed in cool water, drained and finally arranged on a plate that rests on a serving tray. 

In absolute silence.

The beautiful woman in the kimono glides forward into the audience and offers an audience member the tray to taste the noodles. She returns to the stage, retrieves the other tray and again offers the noodles.

In absolute silence.

 It was a moment of pure, peaceful, prayerful zen. A moment that encapsulated all that is cooking: the prep, the saving of every scrap of left over flour, the attention to detail and finally the offering of food. This was a chef’s way of saying grace. Thank you Chef Rai. (Restaurant Sobatei Rakuici in Niseko, Hokkaido, Japan).

 Then our leader, Chef Redzepi, steps out into the spotlight and the tent goes MAD. [Update: Link to MADfeed's video of soba master Tatsuru Rai.]

 

I’ve always cared about cooking; it’s who I am, but I struggle to find the words. The people who spoke at this festival found their words and told their stories.

It’s my honor to share with you some of their tales over the next few weeks. Today I’ll leave you with this nugget of wisdom  given to us by Chef Jeremiah Tower.  Here's what Elizabeth Taylor told him,  “When the going gets rough, put on your lipstick, pour a cocktail and get on with it.”

 Amen, sister. #MAD4