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Eat Drink Style Kitchen Confidential #4 - Everything's Gonna Be Alright


After last weekend’s eye-opening experience in Montecito, I felt a little bit more confident facing my first career obstacle as an aspiring caterer. My friend GW was throwing a bridal shower for her good friend at her house on a Sunday afternoon. One night, while on the phone…

GW: “So I’m the Maid of Honor for my friend’s wedding.”
Me: “That sucks. Why is she getting married so early?”
GW: “She found the one. So now I’m throwing a party for her at my house.”
Me: “………….”
GW: “You should cater it haha.”
Me: “I’m down.”
GW: “I’m just kidding, you don’t have to –“
Me: “I’m serious.”
GW: “Well then…”

After about two weeks of planning, we (GW and the Bride) decided on a menu. As we got closer to the date, I started to get a little bit nervous. I started to question myself and put myself in the hot seat. It was like I was in a dark interrogation room answering the questions of faceless voices with a hot beaming light from Ikea over my head. Will they like the food? What if there are vegetarians? Will the food run out? And more importantly, where would I find the room to do all of this? Certainly not at my West LA shack. For 5 days, these questions were like protons and neutrons bouncing inside my head like a nuclear reaction. I was going crazy. But that’s what parents are for. I called them and knighted them as my Sous Chefs - they gladly accepted. They weren’t happy about working for $0/hr though haha.

GW and I met on Saturday afternoon to do all of our grocery shopping. The night before, I had packed all of my weapons (cookware, utensils, herbs and sauces) and written out the ingredient list. Everything was going well, until I forgot that I had left my notebook on a shopping cart at our first destination. With only an hour left before I had to get to The Restaurant, there was no way I could’ve gone back to find the notebook. So we sat there and went thru every single item, and after 15 minutes, we were good to go with the ingredients. Done. Only half a day before judgment day.

I woke up at 7:30 am the next day. The night before, I clocked in 11 hours at The Restaurant. I could not move. I could barely keep my eyes open. I was this close to calling it quits because I was completely exhausted. I debated another 30 minutes of sleep but we all know what happens... 30 minutes becomes an hour and a half. Waking up at the moment was critical - it was the difference between having a fun, fulfilling career as a caterer or being out on the streets or working at Initech like Milton. But I couldn’t let GW down. I woke up the Sous Chefs and immediately wrote up the menu on a sheet of paper. Here’s what I served:







A. Bosc Pear, Candied Walnut & Goat cheese salad with Lemon/Honey Vinaigrette
B. Smoked Salmon and Dill/Sour Cream on Crispy Wonton Skins
C. Vietnamese Glass Rolls with Sweet Pork and Thai Basil (Sweet n’ Sour sauce)
D. Chinese Chicken Lettuce Wraps with Hoisin glaze
E. Crispy Prosciutto Roasted Asparagus with Lemon
F. Wild Mushroom Risotto with White Truffle Oil
G. Baby Spinach & Three-Cheese Lasagna


From 7:30 am to 11:30 am, it was complete madness. This is the best part about working in a restaurant on the line. The ticket machine is spitting out orders one after another. Sometimes 6-7 tickets in a row. It’s total action and it’s emotional. For four hours, we yelled at each other, we slipped all over the place like my kitchen was built on a giant Slip n’ Slide, pots and pans flew into the sink with thundering noise, apologies were made, people were told to shut the hell up and hurry the fuck up, blenders screamed, and worst of all, fingers were cut. Badly. Without my worrisome parents not knowing what I just did to myself, I ran into the bathroom to tend to the wound. If I had told them, the food would not have been finished and my first attempt at catering would've been a disaster. I gauzed my finger up and ran back on the line. The whole time, I was hiding my bandaged fingers up so my mom wouldn’t see it. We finished at exactly 11:20, giving me 10 minutes to get to the Bridal shower.

I sped down the road and checked my phone. 8 missed calls from GW. Uh oh, she was freaking out. Luckily when I showed up, the guests were just rolling in and entertaining themselves with Mimosas. I unloaded the food and laid everything out on the table. I really wanted to get out of there. There was just way too much estrogen flowing thru that house. My finger was throbbing. And I had 30 minutes to get to The Restaurant. Talk about hell. One of the guests saw my finger and asked to check it out. Turns out her husband is a doctor.

Guest: “Let me see it.”
Me: “Are you sure?” (while drinking a glass of wine to alleviate the pain. So alchy haha.)
Guest: “Take it off.”
I slowly unraveled it.
Guest: “Uh, that’s bad. You can’t be here right now. You gotta to the hospital and get stitches.”
Me: “And stitch what?”
Guest: “Whatever they can.”

I downed my glass of wine and headed back on the road to a hospital. GW came running out with my reward: 24 bottles of Stella Artois beer. Yes! Suddenly I got a call from my mom.

Mom: “How’d they like the food?”
Me: “I think they like it. I didn’t see anyone throwing up.”
Mom: “I saw your trail. What happened to you?”
Me: “I’m going to the hospital.”
Mom: “Ai-yah.” (That’s Cantonese for ‘you stupid fool’)
Me: “Thanks for your help, you kicked ass.”

I sat there in the waiting room of the ER and looked over to my dad who had a worried look on his face. I told him I was fine, that it was all my fault, but we got the job done. In that four hours, it was nice to be with the family and work towards a common goal. That’s all that mattered. I now know what and what not to do next time around. For sure, I will be more than ready. GW called me to see how I was and tell me that the food was enjoyed by everyone. As my fingers throbbed, I leaned my head on the wall and sat back in the greasy, vinyl ER chairs, and gave a tired smile.

Thanks for reading.

Eat Drink Style Kitchen Confidential #3: An Evening of Elegance, Affluence and Taste


Anyone who has ever thought about making a profession out of culinary arts, will at one point, fathom the idea of owning his own restaurant. At times, I would sit on my dining table and wonder where I’d like to open mine. Will it be in Santa Monica, Silver Lake or Pasadena? Anywhere would be nice. Daniel Boulud, author of the wonderful book, Letters To A Young Chef, once said that when a Chef pours his heart out into his own cooking, the people will find the food – no matter where it’s located. Perfect example – Thomas Keller, chef and owner of The French Laundry in Yountville, is located in Napa Valley. People will endure the two-month long reservation and tread up to wine country for a $210 prix-fixe menu. But there’s a high risk of failure in the restaurant business . Trends come and go, competition flares up with the arrival of a hot-shot chef and most importantly – location, location, location is ever so important.

I’m over the restaurant idea because in Los Angeles, you can find any type of cuisine out there. Take a drive down Valley Blvd. in the San Gabriel Valley and you’ll know what’s the hot commodity. Korean/tofu houses, Vietnamese Sandwich shops and most recently, Hawaiian fast food. I give it another three years before these tame down. What’ll be next? A Euro-Asian fusion restaurant sounds mighty clear. Some place that’ll serve Cha Shu pork, Osso Buco-style over some linguini.

With all that said, I’ve been focusing on a career as a professional caterer. And I got my first opportunity through a friend of mine recently. A grandeur opportunity. MH invited me to help cook for a 9-course tasting that was to be held in Montecito, a town outside of Santa Barbara with a capped population of 10,000. The clients for tonight are proud owners of an NBA team in the Mid-West and the largest shopping centers, also in the Mid-West. Who else lives here? Oprah Winfrey, who just spent $50 million dollars on her 42-acre, 20,000-square foot estate in Montecito. Know what I mean by grandeur, now?

With my iPod fully charged, two packs of Parliament Lights, black Dickies pants, oil/slip resistant shoes from Payless and chef coat neatly ironed, I drove down the 101 towards Santa Barbara. I’ve never felt such anticipation and anxiety for a long drive, but this could prove to be a twist of fate. I was dying to find out. After about two hours, I finally arrived in Montecito. On the way, I noticed a sign that clearly indicated that I was no longer in Kansas. When driving through BFE, I’m used to seeing a deer crossing sign. I thought I was exposed to the bizarre after seeing this freeway sign on the way to San Diego – but this was truly a ‘what-the-fuck’ moment. How many times have you seen a crossing sign with a golf cart on it? Anybody?


I pulled up to the estate and pressed the button for the intercom. A guard granted me access onto a pebbled road that led into the ten-acre estate. I parked my white Camry next to a Bentley, a BMW and two Mercedez’. The BMW probably belonged to the youngest child. An assistant to the family greeted me and re-directed me to the ‘proper’ place to park - the lot for the ‘under-six-figures’ people. I didn’t think my Camry really ‘fit’ in anyway.

MH then came out of the house and greeted me. I, along with five other employees, unloaded the supplies and went towards the house. I walked through a small patch of grass and was greeted by three weird looking bunnies, gobbling at nothing. I stepped into the house and looked like a kid discovering his first porno video. Jesus Christ. Why would anyone need THIS MUCH ROOM? Never mind the 20-foot ceilings, fine upholstery and antiques, I was drooling over the kitchen. Two huge sub-zero refrigerators disguised with wooden cabinet panels. A huge island with faucet, plus three long side counters for ‘prepping’ food. And of course, a Viking stove with six-burners, griddle and two conventional ovens. That stove alone is worth $10,000. If this whole kitchen setup took up my whole apartment, I would sleep on the floor.

MH showed me the menu card. In addition to hors d’oeuvres, there were nine courses with a $300 bottle of wine for each course. Nice. We then began prepping away. I had never felt so happy mincing parsley or brunoising mire poix. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as hectic as line cooking because we only had twelve people to cook for, plus we had prepped the day before at MH’s house. She actually said that she was nervous about this because she was used to doing three course meals for 300-400 people. It was usually something boring like chicken or grilled salmon. At the estate, there was a higher chance of receiving negative criticism because of the high profile clientele – people who normally experience haute dining. I made sure that each and every thing I prepped was perfect. The day before, I had cleaned off the bone lining on four racks of lambs. That alone, took one hour and fifteen minutes. I thought making mayonnaise from scratch was tough – this was excruciating. My arms were tired from the constant scraping with only the aid of a paring knife, but I knew this was the difference between a fine caterer and catering by Hometown Buffet.

Halfway through prepping, MH called the whole staff over to practice the ‘placing’ and ‘clearing’ of courses. I stood in the lavish dining room and watched as MH stood in the kitchen, with five servers dressed nicely in prom gear, minus the jacket. Each one held two plates and approached the table in ‘snake’ formation. One by one, they circled the table and stopped between two chairs. MH nodded and all at once, they placed the plates neatly on the table in unison. Smooth. The ‘snake’ then circled the table and exited through a separate door.

MH: “Ok, I need you to cook the fish, scallops and lamb. Do not overcook them. We only have one chance. You screw up, we’re done.”
Me: “Uh. You want me to cook?”
MH: “You bet. I gotta do other stuff.”
Me: “Yes, Chef.”

I’ve been at The Restaurant for nearly three months and I still have not touched a sauté pan. Nor will I get to unless I endure another nine. In the corporate world, you start out as a coordinator and make your eventual climb in the ladder. From coordinator, you become an assistant whatever. Then a senior whatever. Then a vice whatever. And so on. In the kitchen, you are placed in the pantry. You aspire to work the grill so that you can stand in front of the fry-a-lator for $8/hr. Next, you work hard for another few months so that you can sauté old, fish. After a few more months, you become the senior partner – which consists of cooking meat. Add another 4-5 years and you can become a sous chef. So on and so on. In two days, I was given the opportunity to cook meats for the client. This was gold to me and I had no problem cooking the food. I was already liking this catering vs. restaurant ordeal.

6pm. The bell struck and Cinderella’s Ball was about to begin. As soon as the guests arrived, the camera’s started rolling. Here’s what was served.


A. Edamame and White Truffle Puree on Croccatini - Tasty and crispy
B. Triple Citrus Tiger Prawns - A delicious MH signature appetizer
C. Three Cheese Plate
D. Lettuce Wraps
E. Miso Cured Hapu 'Upu' U on Sautéed Baby Bok Choy - Hawaiian Seabass
F. Lamb With Black Caviar Lentils
G. Arugula with White Truffle oil, Marcona Almonds and Parmesan
H. Black Truffle Cheese - best cheese in the world
I. Lemon and Mango Sorbet
J. Citrus Tuilles with Fresh Berries and Crême Fraiche


How did I know how these dishes tasted? Because there were tons of leftovers. I ate for about 4 hours straight and got a chance to try the $300 wine. My favorites of the night were the Triple Citrus Prawns, Diver Scallops with Beurre Blanc (not pictured) and of course, the truffled cheese. I made myself a small grilled cheese using that cheese, and let me tell you, it'll blow your pants off.

The clients really enjoyed the dining experience and came in to thank us all. They liked her food so much that they've already reserved her for two more occasions next month. It was nice knowing that a a family, who also own their own restaurants, appreciated all that we had made for them. I love working at The Restaurant because of the friends I've made and the energetic workflow of the team, but this catering experience was truly eye-opening. MH, is a mother of two, who started out working for her parents bakery in Solvang and eventually moved to Hawaii to work at Roy's and several popular California restaurants. She received all of her culinary experience through many kitchens and here she is, only after three years -- cooking a fabulous nine course meal for people who don't know what else to do with their money. MH thanked me for helping out and sent me home early because I had a long drive to endure.

As I drove, I was still in disbelief over the unfolding of events on this accomplishing day. MH asked me to come back to work for her future events and I gladly accepted. I couldn't wait to get home to write about this and share it with all of you. And now, I am very, very tired.

Thanks for reading.

Eat Drink Style The Gift of Gluttony #3 – Miso-Marinated Chilean Sea Bass in Sake/Mirin Recipe


The Gift of Gluttony continues as my friend HL came over for dinner last night since she had prior commitments during the holiday season. I decided to stray away from my usual meat dishes and cook something from the sea. One of my favorites is the Patagonian Toothfish, otherwise known as the Chilean Sea Bass. Americans adapted that name to increase its marketability. After all, that name does sound pretty vicious. Yes I know, it’s on the list of extinction, but it’s so delectable. Watch this corny flash cartoon on “Taking a Pass on the Chilean Sea Bass”. Nice title. So yeah, in 5 years it could be extinct. Which means I better hurry up and eat as much as I can by the time I’m 32. P.E.T.A. is so after me now. Haha.

One of my favorite Japanese fish dishes is the Miso Black Cod, which I had the pleasure of eating at Nobu Next Door in New York City. It doesn’t require a ridiculous 6 month reservation in advance either. You can simply walk in and enjoy equally delicious fare. The fish was served on top of a hot mixture of soy sauce/black bean with green onions poached in hot oil. I devoured this dish so quickly.

As if I didn’t learn my lesson from shopping for veal shanks, I, again, checked out the prices at Bristol Farms and Whole Foods. $41 a pound!!! Jesus. I went to the next best place – 99 Ranch Market in Arcadia, and found my CSB for $12.99/lb. I got a huge 1.75 lb piece for about $24. I gave myself a high-five. Wait, wouldn’t that be considered clapping?

I cut the huge block of CSB into 4 fillets and marinated them in sake, mirin, miso paste and sugar. It’s important to know what kind of miso paste you buy. I unfortunately bought the sweet kind infused with dashi. Overly sweet. I let the fillets ‘swim’ one last time for 3 days.

Party time…

(1) Gently wipe off any remaining miso paste on the fillets and broil them till it’s somewhat brown on top. It should take no longer than 10 minutes or you’ll get a black fish.
(2) For the CSB sauce, I simmered some soy sauce, Chinese black beans, sake, 3 ginger slices and tons of sugar. I added corn starch to speed up the thickening process. You can add a dash of sesame oil for a nice touch.

I served the fish with some fried fish cakes, fried oyster mushrooms and tofu matchsticks (tempura).

Thanks for reading.

Eat Drink Style Costco Rocks













Next time you're at Costco buying 5 bottles of shampoo, 2 packs of 5,000 q-tips, 150 rolls of toilet paper, 4 cases of eggs and of course those delicious $1.50 hot dogs.... you might wanna consider buying this.

Checkout this link and read the disclaimer. I wonder if they sell these in a 2-pack.

You can even buy a wedding ring at Costco. I've developed a new tagline for this mega sized store- Costco: A Big Part of Your Life.

Eat Drink Style Guess Who’s At the Door? Duck Breast with Apricot & Walnut/Wine Sauce Recipe


In my posting regarding my resolutions for this year, two of them included inviting more people to come over for wining/dining and improving my level of cooking within the categories of presentation and photography. On Friday, I invited my good friend MS and his girlfriend for a night of gluttony. Most of you know her as Bola (Best of LA).

I was hit by the Force at work last minute and had to move our dinner to a later time. What’s the Force you ask? The Force is an invisible life form that watches your each and every move... AT WORK. It plays around with you and lets you do absolutely nothing for 8 hours – making you think the day is a total breeze. But sometimes, it will just fuck with you. You know, right when you’re about to leave for lunch or go home for the night for a prior commitment, you receive a phone call or email that nails you back on your seat. “A few minor changes” is a heavily disguised way of saying “Forget your plans for tonight.” In my case, the Force knew I had a dinner that night. It knew that I had spent my lunch hour driving over to Bristol Farms to do all my shopping. And it knew that cooking for friends was one of my resolutions this year. Basically, the Force fucked with me. As soon as I ‘satisfied’ the Force, I quickly drove home to start the grind.

Me: “So what are we going to eat?”
MS: “Anything is fine.”
Me: “Well, I’ve been wanting to cook duck.”
MS: “The Peking ducks you see hanging in the windows of Chinese restaurants, like Sam Woo?”
Me: “No No. This would be California-French style.”
MS: “I’m down.”

From my experience at The Restaurant so far, I’ve learned that a meal should be balanced in all aspects. The duck might be considered gamey to some people, but the introduction of a sauce subtly infused with fruit and wine can give the palate a ride on a rollercoaster. And definitely hide any sign of gaminess. For the sauce, I would make a simple syrup and infuse it with dried apricots and candied walnuts. King mushrooms, which are very sweet in nature, cepollini and broccolini (baby broccoli) would accompany the spectrum of tastes in this dish.

The duck, unlike the chicken, quail and ostrich, is the only familiar member of the poultry family with the ability to take flight. Because flying requires strong muscles in the wings, the duck’s meat is high in myoglobin. Myoglobin is an oxygen-carrying pigment in the muscle tissue of the bird’s wings, and gives the meat the red color. As well all know, red meat can be cooked to one’s desired doneness. This is why the duck, can, and must be, served medium rare or medium, tops. Pork and chicken, being white meat, obviously cannot be cooked to a rare doneness. Unless you like salmonella.

If you’ve had Chinese style barbeque duck, you know how fatty and juicy the skin is when fried. So good. The same thing applies to even a duck breast fried in a pan. I started this dish out by scoring the thick skin of the duck. 'Scoring' refers to the slitting of any surface of meat/vegetable either for the rendering of fat or for aesthetics. In my case, it had to be both. If I had not scored the skin of the duck, it would have been too fatty and I probably would’ve had to take MS and Bola to the hospital for a quick cholesterol test. Some of you may have seen this scoring technique done in Chinese cooking with squid. Those little criss-crosses you see were done with a small paring knife. Once you cook or boil the squid, the scored lines become clearly visible due to chemical expansion. Simply beautiful.

Here we go, party time:

(1) Pre-heat the oven at 350 and 400 for cooking. Salt and pepper both sides of the duck breast and cook skin-side down on medium heat with olive oil. Cook the duck breast till the skin is a golden brown and most of the fat has rendered out. Discard the fat or save it to make confit. (Confit is a French term for preservation, especially with the use of animal fat. Duck meat preserved in its own fat becomes duck confit. Mmmm.) Toss in the oven for about 10 minutes for medium rare. Keep in mind, you have to let the meat rest for about 5 minutes so that the juices can redistribute.

(2) Make a simple syrup in a small pot by combining sugar and water, I’d say a 1.5 : 1 ratio. Once the sugar dissolves, add dried apricots (chopped and whole pieces) and candied walnuts (crushed). Add red and white wine, over whatever’s in your kitchen. You’d probably want to use a red wine for its silky color. Let it simmer for about 15-20 minutes until desired thickness. The sauce should be able to coat the back of the spoon, also called a Napé sauce.

(3) Blanch your cepollini and broccolini in salted water. This will bring out the green color in your veggies. Set aside for last minute cooking. After the duck has rested, sauté the broccolini in olive oil and butter till it’s crispy. Sauté the cepollini onions in a little bit of butter just to give it a nice coating of butter. Sauté the mushrooms till it becomes brown. Serve.

The duck breast turned out very well. The skin was crispy and still had a great fatty taste. The apricot/walnut sauce balanced out the ‘gamey’ taste in duck. My sauce could have used a little more red wine for color and simmered longer for a thicker coat. I fried the broccolini to bring out a bitter taste to accompany the sweet duck. The mushrooms were naturally sweet and didn’t need much salt & pepper to make it edible. The cepollini onions carried a buttery taste. All in all, I think it was a good, first attempt at cooking duck.



For dessert (which I hate), I decided to do a take on one of my favorite Asian foods: Dumplings. I sautéed some apples and pears (brunoised – small cubes) with sugar and white wine till they were soft and combined it with Mascarpone cheese for the dessert dumpling filling. I deep fried the little bastards and served it with some of the leftover apricot/walnut sauce used for the duck. Added powder sugar and mint for garnish. This turned out pretty good.

Thanks for reading. Quack.

Eat Drink Style A Perfectly-Molded Take On A Hawaiian Classic - Portuguese Sausage with Eggs



Last week, I found a nice package on my work desk, awaiting my arrival. My coworker TT came back from Hawaii and promised me a nice souvenir. She had read my posts on my Hawaii trip and knew exactly what to get me; something edible.

I slowly undressed the package to find Portuguese sausage. I was so stoked haha. In Hawaii, the McDonald’s serve local food including spam/Portuguese with eggs and rice.
This meal was actually one of the memorable ones from my trip.

Because the sight of a heavy plate lunch may sometimes be too much for the senses, I decided to do a take on this Hawaiian classic. Using a ring mold in the pan, I fried some rice that I had mixed with Nori Furikake (best stuff on Earth), making a crispy, circular ‘rice cake’. I then topped it with five small slices of the heavenly Portuguese sausage and of course, added a perfectly round egg. Since this meal is usually served with soy sauce, I made a quick soy sauce reduction sauce using soy sauce, water, sugar, sesame oil and corn starch for thickening. Sprinkled a few bits of Nori Furikake for garnish. I think I devoured this in about 2 minutes in under 6 bites like Pac-Man.

Eat Drink Style Grand Opening

See? I told you I had a short attention span. After 1.5 weeks of staring/manipulating boring coding, Frankenstein has awoken. Hope everyone finds it easy to navigate through. I was pretty tired of the blogger templates and wanted one to call my own. Have a good day.