Foie Gras & Flannel

Meet Harlene Summers. We’re writing a story on her restaurant for TasteFresno.

Harlene is a middle name—her first name comes from her father, who wanted a son. But soon she’ll be legally known as Makhenda, a name given to Harlene by elders of a tribe in Congo.

I first learned of Harlene’s restaurant through Groupon; I rarely open emails advertising discounts at locally owned businesses, but several weeks back one arrived offering a special at Makhenda’s Girls. First thought: “Is this a Groupon for an escort service?” (Serious question.)

Of course I opened, eventually clicking through to discover a restaurant with a menu boasting flavors—a “taste explosion,” even—from the Deep South. Okay, I’m listening.

My first taste included brisket, sweet potatoes, greens and cornbread; the food was charmingly delicious. On the second trip, I tried the fried catfish. So good it reminded me of home.

On the third visit, I hovered around the smoker next to the house restaurant, listening as Harlene told stories of growing up and cooking in the South. She smiled the entire time.

According to Harlene, the name Makhenda means “loving and compassionate.” Fitting for a woman surrounded by family (I’ve counted four generations at the restaurant), who cooks to raise money for missions work.

I’m back home from a week in San Francisco. I should probably write about all the incredible food experiences I had during that week (gah! so much good stuff!), but instead I find myself distracted by the sunlight bouncing off of winter-bleached passersby outside of my office door. It’s supposed to reach 71 degrees today—that’s the sweet spot.

Since I can’t justify another day out of the office, I’m flipping through photos from my trip. Last Sunday, I was here:

Here, the San Andreas Fault has carved cliffs that reach 200 feet, overlooking a narrow strip of sand that soaks in tide from the Pacific. It’s a magical place, with hang gliders and horseback riding and sand dollars and sunshine. And fresh air.

Oh, and dogs. There are dozens of dogs roaming the dunes, including Ramona—

I spent the week looking after her, walking around the city, exploring the parks, and soaking in sunshine.

Now, it’s time to focus on work. So here I sit…staring out the office door.

Sunday afternoon I found myself staring over the shoulder of two friends, anxiously awaiting a taste of the meat they were ripping from the shell of a Dungeness crab.

“You’re not throwing those shells out, are you?”

I asked as though I would have done otherwise. Then, this slipped out of my mouth: “Those would make a great stock.”

I probably heard that on The Food Network.

Truth be told, I’ve never made a real stock–let alone one of seafood. Laura called my bluff: “What would you do with the stock?” She then scooped out the “crab butter” and set it aside, excited to hear what I would do with it.

“Not sure. A risotto, maybe?” It sure as hell sounded like I knew what I was talking about. But like the stock, I had no experience with risotto; it’s a dish I’ve been taught to fear.

I thought about the flavors, consulted a few friends, and decided on making a mushroom and pea risotto. Here’s the result:

It’s good. It’s really good, actually–rich, creamy, with a unique depth from the stock. It’s a delicate comfort food.

I’d post the recipe, but I didn’t create it. Instead, I turned to trusted sources, and adapted as needed:

For the stock, I followed Hank Shaw’s recipe. I only had the body from one crab (the recipe calls for four or five Dungeness), so I mixed in the tomalley before the adding the shells to the pot. I appreciate’s Hank’s instruction on simmering–I would have boiled the shit out of the broth to concentrate the flavors, but he explains that doesn’t work, and it creates a cloudy stock.

With the crab at a simmer, I started on Elise Bauer’s recipe for mushroom risotto. I used a mix of shitake, chanterelle, and black trumpet mushrooms–that’s what looked best at the market. (I also used this mix in the stock.) I switched chicken stock for the crab, and used a sauvignon blanc leftover from the stock. If I could do it over, that’s the one ingredient I’d change; the bottle I had was a little too bright and citrusy for this recipe.

I also added about half a cup of fresh peas to the risotto. I wanted them crispy, so I tossed them in at the end, with the Parmesan.

That’s it. A little simmering, a lot of stirring, and a desire to test myself. There’s room for improvement, but I’d proudly share a bowl. If I had any left.

Well damn. It’s February?!

I wish I could explain where I’ve been, but 1) you probably don’t want to know that much about me, and 2) I’m still making sense of all that 2012’s already thrown my way.

So let’s clear the table–start fresh. Here are a few of my current obsessions:

• Seasonal fruits and veggies, and making them a little less intimidating
• Juicing (casually)
• Taking photos of my brother, staring at food
• Alcohol-themed months (it’s now Febrewary)

What are you currently obsessed with?