Recent Entries from Ernest Miller Movable Type Pro 4.38 2014-05-19T15:55:09Z Recipe: Walnut Ice Cream, Victorian California Style,2014:/living/food//1240.72911 2014-05-19T22:55:09Z 2014-05-22T21:52:50Z Before citrus and avocados were identified with California, walnuts were our big export. And unsurprisingly, Victorian-era Californians ate a lot of walnut ice cream. Here's the recipe. Ernest Miller
Photos by Mia Wasilevich
Although frozen treats have been around for millennia, it was not until the Victorian era that ice cream truly became available to the general public. The first ice cream parlor in the United States may have opened at the end of the 18th century and President Washington famously served ice cream at Mt Vernon, but it remained a treat reserved for the wealthy until the mid-19th century when two technological advances came together.

First, there were enormous advances in the development of a cold chain that allowed the middle class ready access to, initially, ice harvested from frozen lakes and rivers and, later, in the 1860s, mechanically produced ice. Ice delivery could still be somewhat inconsistent until the latter part of the 19th century, however, so that many cookbooks assumed that ice cream and flavored ices would be frequently made in the winter, when ice was less expensive, to be served between two warm courses.

Second, there was the invention of the hand-cranked ice cream churn by a Philadelphia dairymaid in 1843. Though it might seem a simple device, it was vastly more efficient than the previous technique of stirring the ice cream in a pot by hand, which required a great deal more labor. In the various histories of ice cream, no one ever seems to mention who spent hours slaving over a salt and ice slurry so that President Washington could serve the delightful and frosty dessert to his guests.

]]> In any case, now that it was possible for the middle class to make and enjoy ice cream, they did so with gusto and Victorian flair. For example, food coloring was all the rage. You might think that a recipe for cranberry ice cream, containing a great deal of cranberry juice, would be sufficiently red to indicate that it was cranberry-flavored. But you would be wrong, because the receipt, as they were wont to call recipes then, also demanded the addition of carmine or cochineal. One can only dream that color photography had been invented earlier if only in order to capture the vibrant displays of the Victorian table.

Another favorite conceit of the Victorians with regard to ice cream was to mold it into fanciful shapes, of fruits, flowers, vegetables (asparagus was a common mold), geometric fantasies, and elaborate bombes. Presentation was all.

And the flavors! If it was available in the kitchen, the Victorians made ice cream with it -- so ... liver, for instance. The experimental cooks of today would be hard pressed to match the creativity of our culinary forebears.

The most common flavors, of course, were those that were most readily to hand. So, if one were to make an ice cream representative of Southern California near the end of the 19th century, what flavor might it be?

Walnut. English walnut to be precise.

The native California Black Walnut predates the presence of humans here and was a common foodstuff of the Kizh (previously called Gabrieleno or Tongva). And it is famous as an ice cream flavor. However, it is the English walnut that was Southern California's first major export crop and dominated local agriculture at the end of the 19th century.

Before the transcontinental railroad and refrigerated box cars, it would have been nearly impossible for Southern California to export significant amounts of produce or meat. Walnuts, once dried, store incredibly well and can easily be shipped via less efficient means. The climate was well-suited for walnut trees (as the native walnut will attest) and, consequently, starting in the late 1860s, the San Gabriel Valley was soon covered with walnut orchards, from Covina to Pico Rivera and from Boyle Heights to La Puente. Before the orange and avocado, the walnut was king.

There are so many streets in Southern California named Walnut, or Nogales (Spanish for walnut). We have the city of Walnut, which features photos of local walnut harvests in their civic center. There is the city of Pico Rivera which has a walnut on the city seal and an entire room of their small city museum dedicated to the walnut industry. On Whittier Boulevard in the city of Whittier is California State Landmark #681, the Paradox Hybrid Walnut Tree, developed by Luther Burbank, and planted in 1907 as part of the an experimental planting by the UC Experimental Station. Walnuts were what Los Angeles featured at their display for the World's Fair in 1904.

We were the walnut capital of the world.

Unfortunately, in the early part of the 20th century, a walnut blight began to destroy many of the trees. Efforts were made to fight it, but with other crops like the orange and avocado for farmers to adopt, the walnut industry in Southern California died. Walnut farming moved north to the Central Valley, where the microclimate was unfavorable for the blight and walnut trees could thrive. California continues to be the walnut capital of the world. Today, California grows 80% of the world's walnuts.

So why not enjoy a California-style, Victorian era ice cream treat?

The following recipe is based on a Victorian-era recipe.

Walnut Cream Ice
Yield: Approximately 1 quart
2 ½ cups shelled English walnuts
2 ½ cups cream
4 egg yolks
½ cup granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1. Chop walnuts in a food processor until pebbly. Add a little of the cream if necessary.
2. Beat together the sugar and egg yolks until lightened in color and achieving the ribbon stage.
3. Whisk cream and walnuts into egg yolk mixture and heat in a double boiler. Stir constantly until mixture thickens to coat the back of a spoon - approximately 175° - 180°F. Do not boil.
4. Strain custard through a chinois or fine mesh strainer and cool - preferably overnight. Reserve walnuts for making of Walnut Topping (recipe follows).
5. When cooled, add vanilla and freeze according to directions for your ice cream machine.

The actual Victorian era recipe would have you discard the walnuts after they have flavored the ice cream. I consider that wasteful, so I turn the custard coated walnuts into a delightful candied nut topping for the ice cream.

Walnut Topping
Yield: Approximately 2 ½ cups
2 ½ cups walnuts, covered in ice cream base (reserved from Walnut Cream Ice)
¼ cup granulated sugar
1. Preheat oven to 250°F.
2. Mix walnuts and granulated sugar.
3. Spread walnut and sugar mixture 1 layer thick on a sheet tray covered with a Silpat, non-stick aluminum foil, or parchment paper.
4. Bake mixture until crisp (approximately 1 hour, stirring every 15 minutes).
5. Crumble and use as a topping for ice cream.

Recipe: Basic Fermented Giardiniera,2014:/living/food//1240.72720 2014-05-06T22:36:24Z 2014-05-06T22:36:28Z If you were to ask me what the platonic ideal of a pickle was I would easily answer: giardiniera. Ernest Miller
Photos by Mia Wasilevich

I am a huge fan of pickles, whether fermented, made with vinegar, or otherwise. "A pickle on every plate" is something that I am wont to say with some frequency. I greatly admire the Japanese art of tsukemono, where pickles are made for every meal (breakfast, lunch and dinner) as well as every course from appetizer to dessert. How sad our meals would be without the relishes, chutneys, sauces and condiments that enhance the dishes of every cuisine. Pickles lend piquancy and flavor, color and contrast, and can balance seemingly disparate ingredients into a harmonious whole. I love pickles.

If you were to ask me what my favorite pickle was, I could not give an answer. The choices are overwhelming.

But if you were to ask me what the platonic ideal of a pickle was I would easily answer: giardiniera.

Today, we too often get our giardiniera from a factory. This is not to say that industrially processed giardiniera isn't good; there have been many a vigorous debate concerning the merits of various regional producers of giardiniera. Indeed, disparaging a particular brand can spark altercations if you are in the wrong neighborhood.But in purchasing our giardiniera from a manufacturer, no matter how good, we forget the unostentatious origins of giardiniera and how delicious and satisfying it can be to make it at home.

From the Italian for "from the garden," homemade giardiniera is a humble pickle. Traditionally, it was often made from whatever vegetables remained from the last harvest of the garden. Un po 'di questo, un po' di quello. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. It is a classic example of sustainability and letting nothing go to waste. It is the very essence of Slow Food.

Pickling is one means of preserving food, protecting it from decay through the use of acid. While there are many vegetables we grow just so we can pickle them, such as Kirby cucumbers, giardiniera is made with what is leftover. It is a diverse medley of remnants preserved so that we conserve the bounty of the land. That is why giardiniera is, to me, the platonic ideal of a pickle and what pickling is all about.

Usually, giardiniera is made with a vinegar-based brine, usually white wine. After all, Italy has produced superior vinegars since the time of Rome, not to mention being the home of the greatest vinegar ever made: aceto balsamico tradizionale. Even today, fine homemade vinegars are far more common in Italy than the US, but that would be another article.

Obviously, you can make an excellent giardiniera with vinegar. But vinegar is acetic acid, which has a sharp bite. As an alternative, sometimes, it is better to have the sour, tangy, tart flavors of lacto-fermented giardiniera; not to mention the usual benefits of lacto-fermented foods such as probiotics, more vitamins, easier digestion, lowering of the blood sugar ... the benefits go on.

It is also very easy.

]]> Basic Fermented Giardiniera
Will make approximately 1 gallon of giardiniera

For the ferment
1 lb Carrots, peeled and sliced on the bias, about ¼" thick
1 lb Celery, sliced on the bias, about ½" thick
2 Bell Peppers, julienne or cut into batons (the more colorful, the better, but any will do)
1 head Cauliflower, cut into bite-size florets
1 medium Onion, julienne
2 cloves Garlic
2 Jalapeños, sliced on the bias, about ¼" thick

For the brine
2 Qts Water (unchlorinated)
3.25 oz Salt (no additives; if the ingredient list is "salt" only, you're good to go)


1. Toss the vegetables until thoroughly mixed.

2. Transfer this mixture to your fermentation vessel, such as a glass jar. An airlock fermentation kit is recommended. Pack firmly without crushing.

3. Add the brine to your fermentation vessel until the vegetable mixture is completely submerged. You may not need all the brine or you may need more, depending on how you packed the vegetables.

4. Place a clean weight (stone, glass, ziplock bag filled with brine) in your fermentation vessel to keep the vegetable mixture submerged.

5. Cover your fermentation vessel with cloth, or a lid that hasn't been completely sealed (to allow the escape of fermentation gasses). Again, an airlock is recommended.

6. Store out of direct sunlight at room temperature for a minimum of four days and up to two weeks while fermentation takes place. The longer the fermentation, the more sour, tangy and tart the fermentation flavors.

7. Refrigerate and enjoy! Fermented giardiniera should last several months in the refrigerator.

Caution: If your giardiniera becomes soft, slimy, grows mold, or develops a disagreeable odor, discard.

This is a basic recipe for giardiniera, but there are many variations. This mix of vegetables is very similar to many of the giardinieras that you will find on the shelf at the grocery store. But, as noted above, that is not what giardiniera is about.

When you are comfortable with fermentation, feel free to experiment with different vegetables, different ratios of vegetables (for example, more jalapeños for a "spicy" mix), or change things up with your favorite herbs and spices. If you have a garden, then use the leftovers. If you shop at the farmers' markets, then make a giardiniera out of the produce you might not finish this week. The only thing you should not change in this recipe is the brine salt/water ratio.

Here is a list of other traditional vegetables you can use in giardiniera: cucumbers (usually sliced), cornichons (usually whole), fennel, pearl onions, broccoli, romanesco, peppers (all sorts), runner beans, eggplant, green tomatoes, zucchini (all summer squash), and okra. Remember though, this is not an exhaustive or exclusive list. Cured green or black olives are also a traditional option for giardiniera, but I prefer to add my olives afterwards, since they are already fermented/cured.

A number of spices and herbs are also common additions to giardiniera, such as, peppercorns, fennel seed, mustard seed, celery seed, coriander, red pepper flakes, capers, dill, chervil and oregano.

Photos by Mia Wasilevich
Now What? Unfortunately, here in Southern California, giardiniera is not as frequently used as it is in other regions of the United States, such as Chicago, where it is the key ingredient in an Italian roast beef sandwich. Or New Orleans, where it provides the tangy counterpoint to Italian cured meats in a muffaletta. Which, since Lent is now past, is a wonderful lunch indulgence.

Feeds 4

1 Sicilian Loaf (round) or Focaccia (round)
¼ Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil, plus additional for brushing bread
8oz Giardiniera, drained (reserve 1 Tbsp liquid)
8oz Sicilian Olives, drained
3oz Mortadella
3oz Cappicolla
3oz Genoa Salami
3oz Provolone
3oz Mozzarella

1. Slice bread through the middle.

2. Finely chop giardiniera and olives together, add olive oil and reserved liquid. Stir to combine.

3. Brush both sides of bread with olive oil and spread a thick layer of giardiniera/olive mix on bottom half of bread.
4. Layer cured meats and cheeses on top of the giardiniera/olive mix.
5. Carefully close sandwich and allow to sit in refrigerator for 15 minutes to one hour.
6. Slice into wedges and serve.

Of course, there are many other uses for giardiniera beyond sandwiches. It is fantastic as a snack, with crudités, cheese plates, salads, antipasto, rice dishes, cured meats, boiled meats, and tuna salad (as well as chicken, egg and potato). Your imagination is the only limit.

From Beer to Cookies: Malt Syrup Through the Years,2014:/living/food//1240.72265 2014-04-24T22:27:00Z 2014-04-24T22:37:19Z Prohibition led one creative L.A. brewery owner to think up new ways of using -- and marketing -- malt syrup. We've re-created one of his recipes here. Ernest Miller Courtesy the Homestead MuseumIt is January 17, 1920. The Volstead Act has just gone into effect and Prohibition is the law of the land. You own a Los Angeles brewing company, the Los Angeles Brewing Company (the fifth largest brewery in the U.S.), and your main product, beer, is now illegal. So, what do you do?

Why, develop cookie recipes, of course.


Like many other breweries, the Los Angeles Brewing Co., which sold beer under the "Eastside" brand, (so named because the brewery was located on the Eastside of the L.A. River) switched to production of other beverages. During the 1920s you could get Eastside near beer (less than 0.5% abv), a variety of soft drinks, pineapple juice, apple cider, and products like "Zest," a non-intoxicating, "pure and healthful" cereal beverage. Whatever that was. But, let's face it. Near beer would never have enough sales to keep the brewery and beer making equipment running.

So the Los Angeles Brewing Co. did something else a bit more subversive, something that would also have benefits in the long run. They began producing liquid malt extract for sale in cans.

For those who aren't homebrewers, liquid malt extract is a syrup, similar in consistency and color to molasses or honey, that contains the concentrated sugars (i.e., maltose) from malted barley. Malted barley is, of course, the primary ingredient in the making of beer, along with water, hops, and yeast. So instead of making beer with their malted barley, the LA Brewing Co. switched to producing and selling the concentrated syrup instead. For cooking and baking, natch.


This might be one reason why a recipe pamphlet from the LA Brewing Co. published in 1928 had to insist on the back cover that "Malt Syrup is a food product" [emphasis in original]. How many foods do you know have to emphasize that they are food? It also explains the exhortations in the pamphlet on the benefits of malt syrup: "Malt syrup is a health food. When the housewife realizes that fact, the sale of malt syrup for food purposes will rapidly increase." [emphasis in original]

I like how the author specifies "the sale of malt syrup for food purposes" [emphasis added]. Was malt syrup being sold for non-food purposes?

After all, since the only ingredients in most beers are malted barley, water, hops, and yeast, it would seem a simple thing to make actual beer from malt syrup. Indeed, this is how many homebrewers make some prize-winning suds. They purchase liquid malt extract at the local homebrew supply, add the other ingredients, and in a couple of weeks they have beer. Notwithstanding the technical details of how to make good beer, it is really relatively easy to make beer, given that you have some malt syrup available. It might not be great beer, but during Prohibition, who is going to hold that against you?

Certainly, however, the LA Brewing Co. was not in the business of assisting and encouraging the citizenry of the Southland in circumventing Prohibition, were they? They did publish an entire recipe pamphlet with all sorts of enticing dishes utilizing malt syrup as an ingredient with no mention of beer at all. How can you doubt the sincerity of such recommendations as these:

"Malt Syrup added to hamburg and sausage meat develops a meat dish which is not only delightfully inexpensive, but also delightfully different ... The same zest and blending of flavor makes its combination with ham, fresh tongue and pot roast or sauer kraut delightfully different."

They may not have had a thesaurus in the 1920s, but they did not lack in sincerity.


Except that they also sold a malt syrup that included hop flavoring already -- "Bohemian" hop flavoring, to be precise.

Without hops, beer becomes malt liquor. Done right, malt liquor can be good, but without the bitterness that balances the sweetness of the malt, it is seldom great. Today, homebrewers can easily buy their hops at the local beer supply. In the 1920s, while available, hops might have been a little more difficult to acquire. How convenient then that Prohibition scofflaws could buy malt syrup with the hop flavoring already added courtesy of the LA Brewing Co. Why, in order to illegally brew beer, you would only need to add water and yeast, something that every grocery kept in stock.

One can make the case that hops are technically an herb, and as such, it makes sense to use hops in cooking and baking. But "Bohemian" hops? I was unaware that Bohemian hops had such a reputation for their diverse culinary applications.

Nevertheless, regardless of why the LA Brewing Co. was actually selling hop-flavored malt syrup, they did publish a number of recipes using it that had been "tried and thoroughly tested ... [and found to be] each one perfect."

Photos by Mia Wasilevich

Out of curiosity, I decided to give one a try, one that utilized the hop-flavored version of malt syrup. Below is the verbatim recipe, which is written rather well for the time.

2 tablespoons plain or hop-flavored malt syrup - light
5 tablespoons shortening
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
¼ cup sour milk [substitute buttermilk]
½ cup raisins steamed and chopped
¼ cup nuts, chopped
1 tablespoon cocoa
1 cup white flour
2/3 cup whole wheat flour
½ teaspoon soda
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt

Cream malt syrup, shortening and sugar together. Add unbeaten eggs one at a time and beat until well creamed. Add milk with raisins and nuts and stir well. Fold in sifted dry ingredients. Drop from spoon on cookie sheet and bake in a moderate oven, (350 degrees) for about 20 minutes.

These are "delightfully different" cookies; cake-like in texture, spicy and somewhat savory. The hops actually give the cookie a floral aroma and a slightly bitter finish. This is not a cookie you would find on an ordinary dessert platter. Indeed, I would not think that cookies and beer make a good pairing, but these do. The subtle sweetness matches that of beer, and the hops in the cookie harmonize with the hops in the beer.
You can use any hop-infused liquid malt extract to make the cookies. Your local homebrew supply should have a small selection, or you can purchase them via the Internet. The cookies made should pair exceedingly well with the beer the extract is intended to brew. Pale Ale beer with Pale Ale cookies, for example, or, if you want something very bitter, India Pale Ale (IPA) beer with IPA cookies.

I was unable to determine when the LA Brewing Co. stopped making malt syrup. It is likely that it occurred shortly after the repeal of Prohibition. But that was a good thing. Because the LA Brewing Co. had continued many of the steps necessary to make beer during Prohibition, thanks to production of near beer and malt syrup, they were ready to resume brewing as soon as it became legal once again. This is why, at midnight on April 7, 1933, the LA Brewing Co. had trucks fully loaded with legal beer ready to ship. Actress Jean Harlow shattered a bottle of beer on the first delivery truck to commission the newly legal beverage.

Unfortunately, while the LA Brewing Co. survived Prohibition, it was unable to survive the consolidation of the beer industry. Eastside Beer was acquired by Pabst in 1948 and the brewery was shut down in 1979, the same year that homebrewing became legal once again.

I would like to thank the Homestead Museum for permitting me access to their collection of Los Angeles-focused Prohibition-era artifacts. I encourage everyone to visit; they are truly a hidden historic treasure in the City of Industry.

Grand Theft Seafood: Popular Farmers' Market Fish Vendor Arrested on Multiple Charges,2014:/living/food//1240.72041 2014-04-17T18:34:15Z 2014-05-20T18:13:06Z The proprietor of Sea Fever Seafood, one of the most popular booths at the Sunday Hollywood Farmers' Market for years, was arrested Sunday by game wardens from the California Department of Fish and Wildlife in Santa Barbara Harbor following a two-month-long investigation. Ernest Miller Officers investigating Sea Fever Seafood. | Photo: Courtesy CDFWThe proprietor of Sea Fever Seafood, one of the most popular booths at the Sunday Hollywood Farmers' Market for years, was arrested Sunday by game wardens from the California Department of Fish and Wildlife in Santa Barbara Harbor following a two-month-long investigation. The CDFW charged John Wilson, 53, and his assistant, Kai Griffin, 23, with conspiracy and grand theft.



The investigation began in response to several anonymous reports to CalTIP (Californians Turn in Poachers and Polluters), a confidential witness program run by the CDFW. The reported thefts were never very large, about 30-50 pounds at a time,

In response to the tips, game wardens from Santa Barbara and Ventura counties turned to police work to determine the culprits; performing stakeouts, video and photo surveillance, and legwork.

Out of season Kellet's whelks sold at Sea Fever Seafood. | Photo: Courtesy CSFWIn addition to the thefts, game wardens also claim that Wilson sold illegally landed fish, such as sea urchins, out of season Kellet's whelks, live rock crabs, and clawed rock crabs. "Illegally landed" essentially means that Wilson did not catch the fish himself or did not have the proper paperwork for the fish. All the allegedly illicit fish are common game fish. None were endangered or otherwise prohibited for sale.

While the initially reported amounts stolen were relatively small, they do add up. The value of the stolen and illegally landed fish over the two-month investigation is estimated to be tens of thousands of dollars.

Fish theft itself is not uncommon. Generally, however, it is civilians irregularly taking from commercial crab pots or lobster traps. This case is unusual, however, in that it is a commercial fisherman allegedly stealing from other fisherman. Andrew Hughan, a spokesman for the CDFW, says that he has not seen a similar case in his four years with the department.

Fishermen in Santa Barbara are said to be disheartened. One member of the local commercial fishing community, who wished to remain anonymous, said it "not easy to comprehend" and that this was a "challenging situation; tough on the harbor community."

The menu board at Sea Fever Seafood. | Photo: Courtesy CDFWIn recent years, a number of farmers at certified farmers' markets have been charged with selling produce that they themselves did not grow. This seems to be the first case of a farmers' market vendor who is allegedly selling produce he not only didn't harvest himself, but stole.

Sustainable Economic Enterprise of Los Angeles (SEE-LA), which runs seven farmers' markets in greater Los Angeles, including the Sunday Hollywood Farmers' Market, has already revoked Sea Fever Seafood's participation in their markets. SEE-LA Executive Director James Haydu released this statement:

"We are sad to learn of the recent CDFW findings alleging that John Wilson of Seafever, a very popular Hollywood Farmers' Market Vendor, has been caught selling stolen product from fellow fisherman at our market. This allegation, among others, has been more than enough for us to permanently revoke his privileged to sell at our market. We have notified the proper local agencies of our decision.

"This is an unfortunate example of how trust becomes compromised within the community of chefs and customers who patronized his booth weekly. We are working with the proper authorities to make sure they have all the information necessary to prosecute."

As of press, the Santa Barbara District Attorney has not formally filed charges. If charged with felony grand theft, Wilson could face up to three years in prison. In addition, Wilson also faces fines and revocation of his commercial fishing license.

Attempts to reach Wilson, Griffin, and their lawyers were not successful as of press time.

[The author is a former employee of SEE-LA and occasionally purchased fish from Sea Fever Seafood.]

Recipe: Fermented Horseradish for Passover,2014:/living/food//1240.72017 2014-04-16T18:12:29Z 2014-04-16T18:14:03Z Though many spring celebrations, including Passover and Easter, are full of bright colors, plain white horseradish is often the secret star of the table. Ernest Miller
Photos by Mia Wasilevich
Spring has always symbolized a time of renewal, change, and freedom. It is a time of rebirth and new beginnings. Celebrations of spring are joyful and full of color. Traditional springtime feasts feature fresh young vegetables, tender meats, and the first fruits of the season. Spring, in other words, is sweet.

Yet, one of my favorite spring dishes is none of the above. It is bitter, sharp and a plain off-white color. I'm speaking, of course, of horseradish, or chrein.

My appreciation for horseradish starts with its traditional use in the Passover seder. Passover, which commemorates the deliverance of the Jewish people from Egyptian slavery, features many traditional symbols of spring, and celebrates both the rebirth of nature and spiritual renewal. It is festival of liberation.

After matzoh, the most famous element of the Passover seder is maror, or bitter herbs. These bitter herbs are meant to be a reminder of bondage, that even in a celebration of freedom, it is important to remember the suffering of the past; to experience, symbolically, the bitterness of slavery. It is admonition, through taste, to think on the continued suffering of the oppressed and reflect on our own privileged emancipation.

This is important, I believe, no matter what your system of belief is. Every spring feast should have at least one bite, a kayazit perhaps (about the size of an olive), of bitter herbs.

In any case, while horseradish may seem ideally suited for this purpose, it would not have been part of the earliest seders, since it is not native to the Middle East. The historic reference (from the Mishnah) most commonly associated with horseradish as a bitter herb is tamcha. Unfortunately, the true identity of tamcha is not known with any certainty, but it is believed to be a reference to a type of wild parsnip, sometimes called gingidion, commonly grown in Syria in ancient days. Horseradish became popular as maror as the diaspora moved into more northerly climates, where leafy vegetables and lettuces were less common, but horseradish was readily available.

While rabbis may debate the appropriateness of horseradish as maror, its popularity as a traditional part of the seder is undeniable. This is in no small part because of its flavorful "bitterness." And how else are you going to eat your gefilte fish?

In actuality, horseradish is not so much bitter as it is sharp, thanks to a chemical reaction that takes place when the plant is cut or grated. This protective enzymatic reaction is meant to defend the plant from herbivores and creates the pungent chemical, allyl isothiocyanate, otherwise known as mustard oil.

Traditionally, horseradish is grated then vinegar is added to preserve the pungency. And this is a fine thing. Rather than vinegar, however, why not try lacto-fermentation instead? You gain all the nutritive and probiotic benefits of fermentation, as well as a mellower, more complex flavor that makes this a popular condiment with all sorts of dishes -- not just on matzoh.

WARNING: Imagine the strongest onion you've ever cut that brought tears to your eyes. Multiply that by 10. Grating horseradish calls for a well-ventilated space and an ability to hold your breath. If you've ever been sprayed by mace or tear-gassed, the sensations you feel when grating horseradish will seem familiar.

Lacto-fermented Horseradish

For the ferment
8 oz Horseradish, peeled and freshly grated (a food processor is recommended for all but masochists)
4 oz Parsnip, peeled and freshly grated
¼ oz Salt (no additives: if the ingredient list is "salt" only, you're good to go)

For the brine
2 Cups Water (unchlorinated)
¼ oz Salt (again, no additives)


1. Toss the grated horseradish, parsnip and salt until thoroughly mixed.
2. Transfer this mixture to your fermentation vessel, such as a glass jar. An airlock fermentation kit is recommended. Pack firmly in your clean fermentation jar until the salt is drawing liquid from the vegetables.
3. Add the brine to your fermentation jar until the horseradish mixture is completely submerged. You may not need all the brine.
4. Place a clean weight (stone, glass, ziplock bag filled with brine) in your jar to keep the horseradish mixture submerged.
5. Cover your jar with cloth, or a lid that hasn't been completely sealed (to allow the escape of fermentation gasses). Again, an airlock is recommend.
6. Store out of direct sunlight at room temperature for a minimum of three days and up to two weeks while fermentation takes place. The longer the fermentation, the more mellow the horseradish (to a certain point) and the more sour and tart the fermentation flavors.
7. Refrigerate and enjoy! Fermented horseradish should last several months in the refrigerator.

Caution: If your horseradish becomes soft, slimy, grows mold, or develops a disagreeable odor, discard.


This recipe incorporates parsnip with the horseradish. This is for several reasons: first, one of the traditional bitter herbs in ancient days was a relative of the parsnip; second, grated parsnip and horseradish are virtually indistinguishable visually; and, third, parsnip mellows out the horseradish and provides a gentle sweetness for a more round flavor. You can vary the ratio of parsnip to horseradish to suit your tastes.

One very popular alternative is to substitute beets for the parsnip for a more traditional red colored horseradish condiment. The recipe is exactly the same -- just substitute peeled, grated red beets for the parsnip. As with the parsnip, you can vary the ratio (more or less beet to horseradish) to achieve a combination you find pleasing.

Hot Enough For You?

Fermented horseradish retains some of its mustard pungency, but nothing like freshly grated or some of the store bought "prepared" horseradish condiments. Sometimes, you still want that sinus-clearing effect of freshly grated horseradish. The secret is adding a few drops (emphasis on "few") of mustard oil (essentially 95% pure allyl isothiocyanate in oil) before use.

However, not any mustard oil will do. Most mustard oils found in stores are for external use only, frequently recommended as massage oils or to stimulate hair growth. The USDA does not allow them to be sold as a food product because they contain potentially unsafe levels of erucic acid.

You can find edible mustard oil in some Japanese grocery stores, where it is known as "vegetable oil with horse radish" or "wasabi oil." A few drops of this mixed into your fermented horseradish, mustard, or any dish, will give it that allyl isothiocyanate kick.

Old-Fashioned Gingerbread Houses Made with Old-Fashioned Ingredients,2013:/living/food//1240.67745 2013-12-17T22:30:28Z 2013-12-17T22:30:12Z Building gingerbread houses became popular after the Brothers Grimm published Hansel and Gretel in 1812. Within a short period of time, candy-decorated gingerbread houses were a German tradition, and soon after that the tradition migrated to Pennsylvania along with German immigrants. Ernest Miller Photo by Gennie Truelock, Homestead MuseumHidden away in the City of Industry is one of Southern California's historic treasures, the Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum. The beautiful six-acre site recounts the history of Southern California from the days of the great cattle ranchos in the 1840s, when California was still governed by Mexico, through statehood and the transformation of L.A. County into an agricultural powerhouse, to the booming Roaring '20s, when Los Angeles became known as "the city that grew."

If you've never been, now is the time to visit. Both the 1840s adobe ranch house (remodeled as a Victorian manor in 1872) and the 1920s adobe mansion (La Casa Nueva) have been meticulously restored and are delightful to visit anytime, but are especially gorgeous now, as they have been embellished with period-appropriate Christmas decorations, such as authentic 1920s tinsel, goose down trees and, in La Casa Nueva, some of the earliest electric Christmas lights.

It is with this background that I taught a class on gingerbread house building at the museum, using only ingredients that would have been available in the 1920s.
Although gingerbread dates back at least to 10th century in Europe, and was used to make decorated cookies beginning in the 13th century, it is unclear when it was first used to create faux-domiciles. However, building gingerbread houses definitely became popular after the Brothers Grimm published Hansel & Gretel in 1812. Within a short period of time, candy-decorated gingerbread houses were a German tradition, and soon after that the tradition migrated to Pennsylvania along with German immigrants.

Gingerbread baking was definitely a popular Victorian-era tradition in the United States. Indeed, the famous story of the Gingerbread Man was not from the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Anderson but, rather, was first published in an American magazine for children in 1875. The name of the publication? St. Nicholas Magazine, natch.

The timing was actually quite fortunate for the building of gingerbread houses. Candy in one form or another has been available since practically the dawn of history, but for thousands of years remained relatively expensive and only readily available to the rich. Beginning in the 1830s, industrial manufacturing processes, and improved trade in sugar, made candies readily available to the working class for the first time.

Photo by Gennie Truelock, Homestead MuseumBy the 1850s, candy making was undergoing a revolution. Traditional candies that had been available for centuries were joined by a wide variety of newcomers, many of which we still favor today. As the Victorian era ended and the Roaring '20s began, the pace of candy innovation only increased. Perhaps the fact that alcohol was illegal had something to do with that?

In any case, all these new candies would have provided a wonderful collection of items with which to decorate gingerbread houses. Indeed, it is hard to imagine gingerbread houses that do not feature many of the candies developed during this wondrous era of candy revolution.

Of course, gingerbread houses can be decorated with more than just sweets. Many other edible items can be used as well, and turn of the century documents reference many other interesting items that lend themselves to decoration. Ironically, Sylvester Graham and John Harvey Kellogg would be incensed that their creations (Graham Crackers, 1829; Corn Flakes, 1895) were being used for frivolous purposes and, more importantly, were being used in conjunction with sugar, which Kellogg believed encouraged people to ... ahem ... nevermind.

Unfortunately, a great many candies and products of the era are no longer manufactured, but I was amazed to learn how many sweets from the era are still available, and many of which still dominate our holiday season. Hershey's Kisses? Silver-wrapped since 1907.

Below is a non-exclusive timeline list of products that can be used to decorate gingerbread houses with a historic twist, as well as some notes on how they might be used. However, your imagination is the only limit.

Junípero Serra, the Father of California Food, and the First Chocolate in California,2013:/living/food//1240.67631 2013-12-10T22:38:59Z 2013-12-11T19:58:50Z A 1769 list of missionary kitchen supplies includes "Dos Chocolateros de cobre con sus molinillos," or two copper chocolate pots with their chocolate whisks. We've approximated the recipe they'd have used here. Ernest Miller

This year saw the 300th anniversary of the birth of Junípero Serra, who most Californians know as the father of the California Missions. A Franciscan priest, Father Serra left a comfortable academic posting in his native Mallorca to become a missionary in the New World, ultimately establishing the first nine of Alta California's eventual twenty-one missions, stretching from San Diego to San Francisco.

Fr. Serra's legacy, both good and bad, is indelibly a major part of California's history. No matter how you approach the complexity of Fr. Serra's work and the resulting devastation of Native American cultures and the environment, his calling laid the foundation for California as we know it today. Fr. Serra is not only the father of the California Missions, but one of the founding fathers of California. More specifically, Fr. Serra is also a founding father of California's food culture and agriculture.

One of the main goals for Fr. Serra in establishing the missions was not only to convert the indigenous population to Catholicism, but to convert them into becoming farmers as well. Before the Spanish came, the Native Americans of coastal California lived in hunter-gatherer societies. It was through the missions that California began to be developed into the great agricultural power that it is today, forever transforming a bountiful environment that had supported hundreds of thousands of Native Californians without farming.

And because the priests and Spanish administrators were good record keepers, we actually have reasonably decent documentation of some of the crops, livestock, and supplies that the missionaries brought with them as they began colonizing Alta California in 1769. For example, on display at the blockbuster Huntington Library exhibit, "Junípero Serra and the Legacies of the California Missions," is a list of provisions and personnel sent to establish California missions and presidios written by Jose de Galvez (a colonial official of New Spain) on July 10, 1769.

One item that stands out on the list of kitchen supplies is "Dos Chocolateros de cobre con sus molinillos," or two copper chocolate pots with their chocolate whisks. Though the list of food provisions begins with such staples as beef jerky, salted fish, and communion wafers (they were missionaries after all), they also brought chocolate, sugar, cinnamon, and chile - the classic ingredients for Mexican chocolate. This is quite likely the earliest record of chocolate being brought into California.

The Spanish had been consuming chocolate for 250 years by the time the missionaries added it to their supply list. Sometime in the 1600s the Spanish began adding sugar to the traditionally bitter Aztec drink, as well as a variety of spices (vanilla, clove, anise, chile), of which cinnamon was the most common. For the Aztecs, the best part of chocolate was the foam, which was created by pouring chocolate between two pitchers, or chocolateros. However, around the same time that the Spanish began adding sugar to chocolate, the molinillo, or chocolate whisk, was developed as an alternative method to create that delicious foam.

It demonstrates the cultural importance of chocolate that it would be one of the supplies that the Fr. Serra and his missionaries would bring, but there were likely other reasons as well. For example, the missionaries would have been required to observe many more fasting days in the older liturgical calendar. However, chocolate, being a beverage, would have been permissible to consume on most fasting days. Chocolate certainly would have taken the edge off of the hunger pangs.

Unfortunately, though we know that the missionaries brought chocolate with them, we do not have an explicit recipe. Nevertheless, it is possible to make something that is similar to what the missionaries would have been drinking.

It is a bit rough around the edges, not very sweet (which is an advantage over modern hot chocolate), but strangely satisfying.

Hot Chocolate, 18th Century California Style
Makes 4 6oz Cups

3 Cups Water*
4 Sticks Cinnamon
1 Chile de Arbol (optional)
3oz Baking Chocolate, chopped**
1.5oz Piloncillo, chopped***

In a small (1.5-qt) nonreactive sauce pan combine the water, cinnamon and chile de arbol (if using). Over high heat bring the water to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, cover and allow the cinnamon and chile to infuse for at least 15 minutes.

Over medium-high heat return the mixture to a simmer and add the baking chocolate and piloncillo. Using a molinillo, whisk the ingredients until dissolved. Continue whisking until foam is developed.

Serve immediately.

* It would be a few more decades before milk became common in hot chocolate.

** 100% Pure Cocoa, unsweetened. Baker's Chocolate is a good option. The chocolate the missionaries would have had access to would have been a coarsely ground disk or block of chocolate. Coincidentally, the Baker's Chocolate company was established in 1780.

*** The sugar of the missionaries would have been much less refined than modern granulated sugar. Piloncillo, which is readily available in Southern California grocery stores, would be more similar to what was available in 1769.

Learning The History Of San Marino Through Food,2013:/living/food//1240.58653 2013-04-18T18:21:42Z 2013-04-18T23:12:02Z The 100th birthday of the City of San Marino is celebrated with these Italian-inspired dishes. Ernest Miller
Photos by Shane Redsar








San Marino Piada
Makes four 7-inch Piade
2 Cups Flour
1 tsp Salt, Kosher
1 ¼ tsp Baking Powder
1/8 tsp Baking Soda
2 Tbsp Olive Oil, Extra Virgin
2/3 Cup Water










Eureka Lemon Ricotta
Makes 1 cup
3 ½ Cups Milk, Whole
½ Cup Cream, Whipping
½ tsp Salt, Kosher










Golden State Sandwich


Golden State Spread
Makes 2 Cups

1 Cup Diamond Walnuts, Pieces
1 Cup Sun-Maid Raisins, Seedless
¼ Cup Ghiradelli Chocolate, Chips, Bittersweet (60%)
¼ Cup Cream, Whipping




Why Prop 37 Failed,2012:/socal/food//1240.52668 2012-11-14T04:30:06Z 2013-02-06T21:00:29Z Although the opposition outspent the Yes on 37 campaign by five to one, the ultimate reason the Yes on 37 campaign failed was the message. Ernest Miller

Proposition 37, the California campaign that would have required some products made with genetically engineered food to be labeled as such, was solidly defeated in the voting booth by six points (53%-47%). This failure is somewhat surprising as Prop 37 began the campaign season with a nearly 2-1 lead, according to polls. In the wake of this defeat, a discussion of why Prop 37 was ultimately overwhelmed by the opposition and what this means for the future of the food movement is of critical importance.

So far, proponents of Prop 37 have been more than happy to place the blame on their opposition and the vast amounts of capital they spent. For example, Stacy Malkan, the media director for Yes on 37, said, "I think this election was largely a story of money. We didn't have the funds to compete." Ocean Robbins made the same point: "The 'No on 37' campaign spent $46 million burying the state's voters in an avalanche of misleading ads and outright falsehoods. Their efforts defeated the proposition."


"You have a right to know" is a great slogan and a very attractive message, and was right there in the campaign's name: CA Right to Know. People do like to know what it is they are eating. No wonder then that when peopled were asked this summer whether they supported Prop 37, so many answered yes.

Unfortunately, a "right to know" argument only goes so far. When the "No on 37" campaign began to push back, claiming that the proposition would raise food costs and was confusing and full of exemptions, then the "right to know" became a much weaker message. After all, I have a right to know many things, but if that knowledge will cost a significant amount (say, in grocery bills), than I might choose to forgo that knowledge.

One might respond to the "No" campaign's claims by disputing them, by explaining that they are, at best, misleading and exaggerated or even outright falsehoods. But, with so much money on the "No" side, a more powerful response was necessary.

It was not enough for the "Yes" campaign to merely argue against the charge that consumers would pay more if 37 was enacted. The "Yes" campaign needed to go a step further and claim that not only did the public have a "right" to know about the genetically engineered ingredients in their food, but that it was necessary and important that they know.

Yes on Prop 37 should have been the "You Need to Know" campaign. After all, if a voter needs to know something, then claims that the law was poorly drafted or had some exemptions will not be as important. If something is imperative, you need to know it, even if it might cost you a bit more.

But that is not the argument that was made. Indeed, the "Yes on 37" campaign deliberately undermined that case. They often noted that that Prop 37 was just a simple information label and not a warning label. A warning label is, by definition, an example of something people need to know - an information label, not so much. Perhaps the leaders of Yes on 37 should publicly explain why they did not make the case for Prop 37 as a warning label.

Photo courtesy cheeseslave
Of course, the "Yes" campaign was happy to allow the public to make vague inferences that GMOs were bad and scary in some way, but the fact that they did not make the explicit claim that GMOs were dangerous undercut their message.

This vagueness was a hallmark of the campaign. We might have a right to know so that we can make informed consumer choices, but the "Yes" campaign did not seem terribly interested in the why and what of the informed choices consumers should make. The campaign seemed to assume that voters would be able to understand and find useful this simple labeling initiative. But this assumption is exclusionary. If you did not already know the issues involved, how would the label help you make an informed consumer choice? The label would be useful only for those who are already familiar with issues involving organic, local, sustainable food. Without a concurrent information campaign as to why GMO labeling is important and what choice should be made, the label itself becomes a bit elitist.

Ultimately, however, this is the problem with the labeling initiative itself. Yes, GMOs raise quite a number of questions, but a simple labeling system does little to inform the consumer of the particular issues that are at stake. Different GMOs raise different levels of concern - from none at all to more serious - yet all GMOs get the same label. Others are worried about monocrops and pesticide use or that the GMO industry has been taking legal action against non-GMO farmers who inadvertently have GMO crops growing on their land. The issues involving GMO crops go on and on.

A simple label does little to inform the consumer about the variety of issues at stake. Furthermore, many of these issues are not exclusive to GMOs (our industrial farms have been monocropping and abusing pesticides for decades with or without GMOs), but are related to the socio-economic-legal regime that shapes our modern farming industry. The solution to most of these issues is not in stigmatizing all GMOs, but addressing the particular issues and abuses themselves.

Unfortunately, leading the public to demand "patent law reform now!" (the real solution to the dangers of Big Ag) is not quite as easy or popular as encouraging people's vague fears of genetic engineering. It is easier to oppose Roundup-Ready crops than to oppose the Farm Bill that subsidizes and incentivizes our monocrop/herbicide farming industry. Which is why, ultimately, I am not terribly disappointed that Prop 37 failed.

Prop 37 was a flawed law with a poor strategy for passage. As easy as it is to blame the failure to pass this proposition on the money spent by Monsanto and others, perhaps we should look a little closer at the failures of the Yes on 37 campaign. We can always expect that those who benefit from the status quo will defend it and we must be prepared to counter their attacks appropriately. Money alone does not determine the outcome of an election.

Those of us who seek to improve our food systems need to more carefully consider how to promote good, clean and fair food. Good food did not lose this past week. We just need a better message.

Ernest Miller attended Yale Law School before entering the culinary world. He is now the chef at the Hollywood Farmer's Kitchen.
