Mita's Kitchen Table

01/17/2024

Cheese pairings cheat "sheet" 🤓

06/09/2022

❤️ GREAT REMINDER FROM THE ONE AND ONLY...

"Eat at a local restaurant tonight. Get the cream sauce. Have a cold pint at 4 o’clock in a mostly empty bar. Go somewhere you’ve never been. Listen to someone you think may have nothing in common with you. Order the steak rare. Eat an oyster. Have a Negroni. Have two. Be open to a world where you may not understand or agree with the person next to you, but have a drink with them anyways. Eat slowly. Tip your server. Check in on your friends. Check in on yourself. Enjoy the ride." - Anthony Bourdain

06/07/2022

Good morning ☕
The things that makes us feel alive. Meet Miss Chive and Miss Dill. Their flowers are edible and so delicious.
My favorite time to use them
🍃💮🌱🏵️🌿

08/08/2021

Bake in muffin tins lined with parchment paper with no oil...alternative way of cooking😋

Made with our Dairy-free Cashewmilk Yogurt.

06/21/2021

Happy 2021
Caprese two ways and fresh herbs deviled eggs on the Keoloha🌊😎🌞

06/12/2021

God Rest Your Soul Tony
🙏❤🙏

“Hello Darkness, My Old Friend”

On a hot night in 2005, after a long day of spelunking through the septic tanks of Wisconsin, I retired to my suite at the Motel 6, to wallow in the perks of my chosen profession.

First, there was the tepid shower, followed by another. Then, there was the tepid beer, followed by another. Then, I logged into the Dirty Jobs Mudroom, where I planned to chat with fans of my show while watching myself on television, (a narcissistic but mostly harmless habit that eventually got out of control and turned into this page.) But that’s another story.

On this particular evening, stretched out on a suspicious comforter held together with the DNA of previous guests, I stumbled across a smart-aleck on The Travel Channel eating fermented shark meat in Iceland, and telling his producer he’d be dead by morning. I had to laugh. Just a few hours earlier, I had been eating a fermented hoagie in an open sewer, and lodging a similar prediction with my own producer.

Naturally, I was intrigued by what appeared to be a kindred spirit, Forrest-Gumping his way around the world, pushing the bounds of non-fiction television. The show was called “No Reservations,” and no – I didn’t think it was better than Dirty Jobs. But I did think it was every bit as good, and the more I watched, the more I grew to appreciate this subversive chef’s naked contempt for all the fakery of traditional production. I loved the way he went out of his way be seen as a “traveler,” not a tourist. It reminded me of my own attempts to be seen as a “guest,” and not a host.

From that moment, I was a fan. I read his books, and enjoyed them all. But what I enjoyed even more was the way Tony pushed The Travel Channel into some very uncomfortable territory. It’s not that I think bad language and drinking on camera are cool or edgy; I don’t. But I loved the fact that Tony pushed the network to let the show evolve around his point of view, and his personality. In those days, that almost never happened. It’s still very rare, mostly because the shows are the property of the network, and the network almost always has an opinion about how their hosts should and shouldn’t behave. But Bourdain was his own man – a man on a mission to produce a show that was authentic to him. I admired that. I also admired the way he pushed back when his name and likeness were used to sell Cadillacs without his permission. https://bit.ly/2Jt0EWB He had integrity, and was unafraid to walk away from a steady gig when he believed he was in the right.

I think my favorite thing he ever did was an episode for Parts Unknown. Tony goes scuba diving for octopi in Sicily, with the help of a local producer. But when there are no octopi to be found on the sea floor, the producer starts dropping them off the side of the boat.

Imagine the scene. Bourdain is twenty feet down with his cameraman, when store-bought, frozen octopi begin to float slowly by. It’s absurd, but precisely what a typical producer in my industry would do to “salvage” a scene. Bourdain however, is appalled, and does the only sensible thing he can - he drinks through the rest of the episode, heavily. Later, in voiceover, he reveals the botched attempt to fool the viewer by airing the raw footage. It's the most honest thing I’ve ever seen, in a genre that stages 95% of what it presents as real.

Full disclosure - I don’t know Tony well enough to eulogize him. We met a few times, here and there, shared a few drinks, and complemented each other on our respective careers. We disagreed on plenty, but we approached non-fiction television the same way. We both looked askance at rehearsals, scripts, executive oversight, and most of all, second takes. And we both tried to use our platforms to do more than entertain.

A few years ago, at an event in New York, we traded war stories over some better than average bourbon. I asked Tony about the warthog a**s he ate in Namibia, and whether or not the subsequent antibiotics did the trick.

“Hard to know,” he said. “By then, I’d developed a kind of natural immunity. What about you? Still keeping the Hep-A at bay?”

“So far so good,” I said. “My problems these days are mostly with PETA.”

Tony laughed. “Don’t get me started. They’ve got a file on me the size of a phone book.”

We talked about the importance of showing people where their food comes from. He told me about the petition against CNN that arose when he removed the beating heart from a snake. I told him about the boycott against Discovery when I shot a cow and butchered it on camera. We talked about the difficulty of producing a truly authentic show with sponsors and advertisers and millions of viewers with competing agendas, and how grateful he was for the chance to deliver the show he wanted to deliver. I told him about the night I saw him choking down the fermented shark in Iceland, back in 2005, and asked him if he ever imagined a scene like that would lead to a Peabody Award. He told me that awards were nice, but never part of the plan.

“I was mostly trying to amuse myself,” he said. “I just wanted to do a show that I could be proud of.”

Yesterday, when I heard he’d hanged himself, I thought about the first time I saw "No Reservations," stretched out on that suspicious comforter in a Motel 6 outside Madison. Seems like a lifetime ago. I just found the Iceland clip on You Tube, and watched it again - this time from the comfort of a leather sofa, where the only DNA present was my own. I couldn’t help but notice the title of the episode - “Hello Darkness, My Old Friend.”

Old friends, it seems, have a way of reuniting.
Tragically, in this case.

My sympathies to his loved ones, and to his millions of fans trying to make sense of the inexplicable. His was a truly unique voice, and I'll be among those who miss it.

Mike

03/05/2021

❤🙏❤
Before his passing, iconic chef Anthony Bourdain shared some important advice to take into consideration when going out to eat. See his wise words here.

Before his passing, iconic chef Anthony Bourdain shared some important advice to take into consideration when going out to eat. See his wise words here.

12/10/2020

Rest In Peace Gloria🍽🔪

It is with deep sorrow that we share the passing of Gloria Evelyn Augier Pépin (June 19, 1937 – December 5, 2020), wife and lifeforce of author, television personality, and culinary instructor Jacques Pépin. She passed peacefully in her own bed in Madison, CT with Jacques, her daughter Claudine, her son-in-law Rollie, her granddaughter Shorey, close friends Tom Hopkins and Reza Yavari, and her beloved pup Gaston, by her side.
We are overcome with grief, but Gloria was a fighter: a strong, resilient, “spill-no-tears” woman. She would no doubt urge us to get on with living our lives and continue to do the work we were meant to do.
In lieu of flowers, Gloria wished condolence gifts should be made to the food insecurity or animal welfare charity of your choice.
Gloria is survived by her devoted husband of 54 years, Jacques, her daughter Claudine, granddaughter Shorey.
Born in New York City, Gloria’s mother was from Puerto Rico and her father was born in Cuba. For much of her early life Gloria lived in Redbank, NJ. As a junior in high school, she took a trip to Cuba with some friends, and ended up fighting in Castro’s war. In her twenties, Gloria enjoyed a life of excitement running a studio in the music industry.
The story of Gloria and Jacques’ meeting is quite infamous. He was a ski instructor at Hunter Mountain in NY. In spite of being an excellent skier on the ski patrol, Gloria signed up for ski lessons to spend time with the handsome Frenchman. She recalled, “He was so cute, I thought he was probably gay.”
Jacques and Gloria were married in 1966 and loved each other for an admirable 54 years. In all that time, they made sure to sit at the table every night for dinner, enjoying their meal and a glass of wine, intentionally reaffirming their marriage and their love. With Sinatra or Aznavour singing, they would sometimes spontaneously dance after dinner (as long as Jeopardy! was over).
They were married at the home of Craig Claiborne, long-time food editor and restaurant critic for The New York Times, on Long Island, NY. Jacques, Pierre Franey of Le Pavillon, and several other chefs cooked the guests’ dinner. Howard Johnson, among many other notables, was in attendance.
Gloria was a very good cook in her own right. Her Puerto Rican and Cuban heritage had some influence on her husband’s cooking in dishes like chicken and rice and black bean soup. She was a formidable Pétanques competitor and created a Pétanques league in CT that for years brought together 40 or more friends every sunny Sunday to play.
She might have loved dogs more than she loved most people. There were always dogs in her life, including strays that she brought home. Yet she also loved her family and friends with unequivocal abandon.
Gloria was stately, dignified and classically elegant. On the arm of Jacques, she attended countless black tie and awards celebrations. Her humor was dry and straightforward. She was bold and unapologetic, and never embarrassed. According to Gloria, there is always a ‘right’ way to do something. It was invariably, also, perfectly aligned with Gloria’s way. As Jacques has said frequently, “We always do things my way when we agree. But when we disagree, we do things her way.”
Every chef, and especially Jacques, will tell you, it impossible to be successful without the support of your spouse. In their early years together, they lived in New York City and at an artist’s retreat on Hunter Mountain, where their life was a communal celebration with friends, of food and wine and joie de vivre. Claudine was born in 1967, while Jacques cooked, went to school, and wrote. They opened La Potagerie a small soup restaurant on 5th Avenue, between 45th and 46th street, in New York City, in 1970. Through it all, Gloria was his partner, his strength, his rock.
In 1974, they were tested by Jacques’ debilitating car accident. Gloria showed her immense strength and resilience when, with limited resources, she nursed Jacques back to health.
In 1976, they purchased a dilapidated home on four acres in Madison, CT and worked together to completely renovate the property themselves. Later they opened Gloria’s French Café in Madison. At the café nothing was ever wasted. This was an ethos that Gloria and Jacques shared. She managed the front of the house with impeccable taste. Like everything in Gloria’s life, the restaurant was extraordinarily well-organized.
Gloria and Jacques’ homes, whether in Madison or Playa del Carmen, Mexico, where they kept an apartment for many years, were always impeccable and full of color and light. Walls were adorned with paintings and artwork, and shelves were filled with books. Music played with flowers everywhere, especially Gloria’s favorite, orchids, which she teased into flowering year after year. That iconic pot wall in so many photos behind Jacques? Gloria ensured that the bottoms of those pots were always as spotlessly clean as the interiors.
After decades of camera crews parading through the house, in 2005, Jacques and Gloria converted their guest house into a studio kitchen. Since then, only their dear friend, photographer, and videographer Tom Hopkins has been allowed to shoot in the main house.
For many years, though they lived on a tight budget, Gloria always had an appreciation for the beautiful and finer things in life. She loved caviar, champagne and foie gras (she preferred a cold terrine to sautéed.) Yet as Jacques earned fame, she was never pretentious and typically added ice to her wine. She never left a gram of meat in a steamed lobster or crab shell, and recently sat for hours to extract garlic cloves from tiny heads grown in their garden.
She worshipped the sun and warmth. They wintered for years in Playa del Carmen, Mexico and later on Amelia Island in Florida. At least once each year they would sail on Oceania Cruises to someplace warm and delicious. We know that Gloria has now found a place of place full of sun and warmth and love in many hearts.
Because of concerns related to the covid-19 pandemic, there will be no funeral gathering at this time. By her request, there will be a big “Boules’ des Dimanche Club” party with all of her friends on her birthday in June 2021.