Goodbye Lawrence

I'm feeling pretty nostalgic right now. It probably helps that I'm passing time in the Kansas Union on campus, listening to Bob Dylan, and watching students pass with their backpacks. I'm not a student anymore. I'm not a Lawrence resident anymore. What am I?

I'm homeless. I'm confused. I'm waiting for a paycheck. I'm just waiting. I'm waiting to move in a week and I'm waiting for all these strange feelings of disconnection to leave my mind. I'm already missing friends that I know will always be my friends. They're not going anywhere, we're just going to be separated by distance.

It was four years ago when I first came to the Kansan Union for freshman orientation. I didn't know a soul. As the first to leave the nest at home, I was nervous and excited. I didn't have an older sibling to show me the ropes. I just knew college was supposed to "the time of your life." It sounded so incredibly cliché, especially topped with the phrase, "Four years will fly!" or "You'll meet your best friends in college." The stiff reality of clichés is that most of them are true.

I had the time of my life, four years DID fly, and I absolutely, without a doubt, met some truly comical, inspirational, and phenomenal friends. College ruled. I earned two degrees in four years, spent three summers in Lawrence with my best friends, went to Europe, lived to remember 21 shots on my birthday, survived a sorority for a few years, fell in love, tried most of the restaurants in town, bartended a little bit, served at four different establishments, experienced an NCAA national championship, wrote for the college newspaper, and I never went to jail. Yea, I got myself into debt, had my heart broken, experienced a car accident, and made a few poor decisions, but it was still four years I wouldn't trade.

So maybe I'm saying goodbye to a town and a life that I love, but I really got the most out of my college experience. Thanks KU. You took a load of my parents' hard-earned money, and your parking department is evil, but I had the time of my life.

I'm off to collect my paycheck and ready to head West for a week. I'll be on a plane to NYC next Saturday. Goodbye Lawrence. It's been a great four years!

Bourbon & Game

He'd been marinating the idea for the last couple months, assembling his menu, selecting his pairings, and discussing matters with his crew. It would be his debut serving a room full of Kansas City foodies, all of them hungry for the smokey, sweet aromas of bourbon and flesh from the forest. He plotted how the evening would flow and how each plate would arrive, all accented by the right Kentucky gem. "Bourbon & Game" was the name of the game, and Chef Chris Wofford had every intention of delivering true Southern comfort, one course at a time.

The Test Kitchen, a Kansas City underground supper club open to anyone with culinary curiosity, invited Chef Wofford to inspire them. A long table dressed with black linen and tealights supported silver charger plates, glasses of Makers Mark, and a sheet of paper that would reveal what the next three hours would entail. The scent of fresh Nicaraguan hand rolled cigars carried through the air and conversations bounced between the walls of the industrial space. After taking a pledge — a solemn oath to try everything placed before them — the foodie "disciples" sat, eagerly awaiting the unknown.

The first of five courses arrived and the guests gradually grew quiet. Rabbit confit placed on top of sharp cheddar johnny cakes with wild mushrooms sat before each diner. The Makers Mark sipped during the cocktail hour was traded for a neat pour of Bulliet, which contained notes of oak, spice, vanilla, and honey. Together, the rich shreds of rabbit and delicate mushrooms set the tone for the rest of the evening. This was not going to be a dinner of game meats presented plainly, but rather a sophisticated assembly of dishes ready to surprise the pallete.

Roasted breast of pheasant with wilted greens and a spicy peanut vinaigrette arrived next. A nest of wontons spilled greens onto the plate and the tender pheasant lay sliced on its bed. Sprinkles of edible flowers and slightly wet greens made the dish resemble a bird in a soft habitat after a spring shower. A glass of Bakers accompanied the dish with hints of toasted nuts, fruit, and vanilla.

White, moist meat intensified to red deer flank steak served on venison sausage and hoppin' john. A raspberry barbecue sauce bled sweetness and a tossed salad of julienned squash and peppers dressed the hearty dish with a dash of something light. The lean meat that had been marinated in brown sugar and bourbon was bright with flavor, especially with a quick prance through the raspberry barbecue sauce. Knob Creek added a punch of woody, sweet fruit.

Course four began and the bar was high, but two rib bones from a rack of wild boar met expectations. Nestled on a mound of peppercorn hominy grits with a blackberry molasses gastrique, the wild boar paired beautifully with a splash of light-bodied Basil Hayden. Some of the cooks even dipped the boar into their glasses, just to insure the chemistry of the pair.

After four courses of wild game redefined, a pecan and smoked chocolate pastry cigar arrived to each guest. Each cigar rested on a chocolate ashtray filled with strawberry anglaise and fresh strawberry slices. Lips wrapped around each sweet cigar, and hands grasped the final pour of Bookers, ripe with hints of fruit, tannin, and tobacco. Everyone felt like a true aficionado.

To view all pictures from the evening, check out the Picasa Web album.

The beginning of a new beginning

My boyfriend of sixth months left for California this morning. He loaded a small and rusted Corolla with his three bikes, a handful of belongings, and a his cat. He packed light, left all that he knew, and headed West to discover what his California itch is all about. I'm happy for him, but a selfish part of me wishes we had more time together. The reality of separation really stings, even though I am moving in 13 days.

A knot of emotional congestion has gathered in my chest and I've lost a taste in my mouth. I've also failed to write for about a week, which was against my blogging plans. I've been eating, but it hasn't been very enjoyable since he told me he was leaving. My friends and family have pulled me through the doldrums and I've accepted that life without him will feel strange for awhile.

My friend Cameron believes I'll feel better when I move. I have every reason to feel excited, and our conversation over dinner at Teller's last Thursday reminded me of that. Cameron has an unmatchable ability to lift my spirits and make me laugh. He drank some Adami Garbel Prosecco and I sipped a couple glasses of Wente "Morning Fog" Chardonnay. Cameron insisted that I eat something, even though food was the last thing on my mind. We split a warm goat cheese spread appetizer with Black Mission Figs. My tears were interrupted by spurts of laughter and the appetite that had vanished made an appearance. It was a therapeutic dinner for me. We had a few side salads and nibbled on a margarita pizza fresh from the pizza oven. It's just what I needed - Simple food, a few drinks, and Cameron's company.

My dad, step mom, and brothers visited on Friday to experience a stroll down Massachusetts Street for one last time before I move. They treated me a mojito at Esquina and dinner at Pachamama's, which caters to guests who want something a little inspiring out of their dining experience. It's hard to put a finger on what Pachamama's really specializes in, but I think it's safe to describe the food as a fusion of the familiar and the foreign. The typical suspects are on the menu, but they've been dressed up with some modern, multicultural flare. My brothers have grown to learn that eating out is about trying new things in our family, and bless their hearts, they really try. With their tastes in mind, we decided to order the the Rock Shrimp Mac & Cheese "Lollipops" as an appetizer. It sounded intriguing and what kid wouldn't want to eat mac & cheese on a skewer? Sneak some shrimp in there, fry it up, and it's bound to excite their taste buds. They were good. For dinner we all ordered different items and passed them around the table to for everyone to try. My dad ordered the Apple-Wood Smoked Duck Breast, Heidi tried the fish special (which is escaping me right now), the boys split a Star Bar Burger jazzed with white cheddar and smoked bacon, and I picked Oaxaca-Cheese Stuffed Thick Cut Pork Chop. The duck breast arrived to the table drizzled with a brown sugar blueberry butter on a bed of fingerling potatoes and creamed zucchini.

Duck may not be my favorite bird on a plate, but it was definitely a combination of tastes I hadn't tried before, which is always a good thing. We all enjoyed Heidi's fish. No one seemed to love my pork chop, but I liked it. I felt like there was too much going on in the dish, but I really like the crushed hominy underneath the chop. It had a gritty texture and it really complimented the rojo sauce, which had the right amount of heat.

I don't know that a pork chop really need cheese stuffed into it, but it was an interesting

technique. The burger impressed us all. It was killer. A friend of mine used to work in the Pachamama's kitchen and he swears it's the best burger in town. I believe him. He said they grind the ground beef in house, bake the buns, and have a secret combination of ingredients in their patties. I'd venture to say the burgers at Pachamama's are senior to Dempsey's and The Burger Stand. If you're in Lawrence, you may want to venture on your own burger taste challenge. We ditched a fancy dessert so the boys could enjoy some Cold Stone, which puts their Salina ice cream options to shame. Their visit really meant a lot to me and dinner at Pachamama's was a perfect cap to my four years in Lawrence.

This will be my last full week in Lawrence, a place I definitely consider a home. I received a stellar education in this town and I've met some amazing people here. I learned a lot about the local restaurant scene and I observed several kitchens that will forever influence the rest of my career. I may feel a little tender right now, but it's only because I've grown attached to the familiar. The beginning of a new beginning is never easy.

This made me laugh.

I'm not sure I agree with Mr. Bourdain on this statement, but it sure is funny. I personally think beer and sophisicated food under the same roof sounds appealing.

"Gastro pub? What the fuck is that? For me, fancy food in a traditional old pub is about as inviting as the phrase 'Hot male-on-male action' or 'Tonight! Billy Joel live!' or 'Free prostate exam with every drink." A good pub should never have fine food. What's wrong with a good meat pie? Black pudding? Sausages? Shephards pie is a beautiful thing. I don't want truffles in it! And a vegetarian menu? In a pub? Vegetarians in a pub? For their own good, vegetarians should never be allowed near fine beers and ales. It will only make them loud and belligerent, and they lack the physical strength and aggressive nature to back up any drunken assertions."

-Anthony Bourdain in "A Drinking Problem" from Nasty Bits

Cafe Beautiful

Cafe Beautiful is definitely an appropriate name for Chef Sukan's cozy, lofted, private restaurant on Massachusetts Street. This past Tuesday I had the pleasure of dining at Cafe Beautiful with a small group of friends in honor of new transitions. My friend Lindsey will be moving to Chicago this weekend and I'll be moving to New York City in a month. Sukan's food celebrates very percise knife work and all that is simple. He doesn't advertise and he said he breaks even with his business. It's not about the money for Sukan, and that's obvious when you get the check and you've just experienced eight courses of beautiful food for $67 in the comfort of a personal dining room. Oh yea, and you get you bring your own wine AND you get a personal chef all to yourself for three hours. Deal? I think so. I'll let the photos speak for themselves.



"Justifiable passion. That's what I have."
-Chef Ken Sukan

Course 1: Butterflied shrimp with a bay scallop in an egg custard

Notice that the custard is presented in a hallowed squash bottom.

Wine Pairing: The. Formula 2005 Small Gully

Course 2: Fresh fruits glazed with ginger dressing

I adore the little kiwi flowers. I think this looks like a fruit boat with a pineapple sail.

Wine pairing: Siduri Pinot Noir 2008

Course 3: Red snapper
Wine pairing: Folie a Deux 2006 Napa Valley

Course 3 (vegetarian): Tempura vegetable tower


Course 4: Cucumber salad with white tuna and sesame drizzle

This salad is one of the best salads I've ever put in my mouth. Sukan created tiny julienned tendrils of jicama, purple cabage, carrot, and cucumber tossed with a light vinegarette. The hallowed cucumber created a bustier for the overflow of seductive slaw.

Wine pairing: I think I stopped writing down
the wines at this point in the meal...Oops.

Course 5: Sockeye Salmon with a ginger soy glaze
and a salad of apple and fennel


Course 6: Tuna sashimi flower presented in an ice bowl

Course 7: Sushi unagi
Course 8: Warm tea (not pictured)

After eight courses of fantastic food and wine, we were all happily full and buzzing. The conversation was rich with laughter and memories. Lindsey said it best: "I love how more wine brings out the sheer honesty that I so much appreciate." It was a night of the best food and company I could have asked for.