A Clandestine Affair: Charleston's Underground Kitchen

Last weekend, I experienced yet another first in my life. I paid money to eat a mystery dinner with +/- 29 people I'd never met before in a secret location.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: The Underground Kitchen.

Charleston's Underground Kitchen describes itself as "...a giant, infrequent dinner party involving strangers and amateur cooks who like good food and don’t mind making a few new friends." Who on earth would not be intrigued by this claim?

I learned about Underground Kitchen from the blogosphere, of all places. Being a newcomer to Charleston, I've poked around on the Internet quite a bit over the last couple months. I've found that the best way to learn about a city's offerings is to find the local bloggers. While perusing a local blog aggregator one evening, I noticed the term "underground kitchen" popping up in a couple different spots, and my interest was immediately piqued. Like a bloodhound, I followed the scent right to The Underground Kitchen's website. After reading how it worked and admiring the site's design (a well-designed website goes a long way with me), I wasted no time signing up for the invite list.

Within a couple days, I received an e-mail from The Underground Kitchen announcing the date for their next affair. "I should do this," I thought. Mom has been telling me I need to get out and meet people, and she's never given me bad advice. I've known this as well, but really haven't felt up to it. The Underground Kitchen, I decided, would be just the catalyst I needed. So, I did the following:

1. Paid $40.00 of my hard-earned scratch to someone I'd never met, let alone heard of, via PayPal.
   
2. Immediately wondered if I'd just given $40.00 of my hard-earned scratch to a pimply-faced Belarusian teenage genius with an affinity for illegal-in-most-countries Internet porn and pirated MP3s.
   
3. Shrugged and waited for further instruction.
   

Between the time I paid for my reservation and received the e-mail disclosing the supersecretninja location, I told anyone and everyone who would listen about what I had just signed myself up for. Everyone's reaction can be summed up as follows: "Wow, really? That sounds SO cool. Wait... this is in Charleston?" Having never been to anything like this, I wasn't sure how to accurately describe it. "Well," I'd say, "I think it's kind of like a rave, without the candy kids. Or like Eyes Wide Shut, without the whole freaky, masked orgy thing going on*. I won't know where it is until a couple days before, and I won't know who will be there or what we'll be eating until I arrive." Needless to say, everyone I talked to about it was intrigued.

Fast-forward to last Saturday, when I pulled into the parking lot of Charleston's Habitat for Humanity ReStore with a chilled bottle of wine and a major case of the butterflies. A couple days before the event, I was talking with Bridget on the phone and nervously telling her that I felt certifiably insane for making my first social outing in Charleston a mystery dinner party with 30 strangers. She stated in her calming, matter-of-fact way, "Dinner with 30 strangers is a lot less scary than dinner with three strangers." A genius observation, and exactly what I needed to hear. As I walked to the door I chanted in my head, "30 is less scary than three. 30 is less scary than three." And I was golden. I even squashed the urge to declare, "Fidelio!" as I made my presence known.

I walked in to a dark-ish warehouse, atmospheric in its string-lights and candle-lit dimness, the hum of fans (it was a hot evening and the venue was not air conditioned), laughter and various conversations, and the most amazing smells ever. I was greeted by one of the chefs and introduced to the other, who was feverishly chopping what looked like cilantro. My first impression of the non-chopping chef was that this guy seems like he never meets a stranger, and I felt immediately at ease. Both of these guys were genuinely friendly, despite being in the throes of cooking for 30 people in a warehouse. These people seemed cool. I was not going to need my brass knuckles after all.

After putting my name on a sticker and a place card, I went over to the wine chilling station and just started talking. I'm an interrogator's dream come true... when I get nervous, I talk. So talk I did. And I met some very cool people in the process. I'm horrible at remembering names, but was able to piece some names together with websites and blogs I'd visited or people I'd seen on Twitter. At that moment I realized, once again, what a trip the world wide web is.

Dinner was a study in social engineering; place cards had been strategically set to ensure that people who knew each other well were not seated directly next to each other. I was seated in a wonderful little pocket of guests, as I'm sure the entire table was. The people in my immediate vicinity were warm, welcoming, friendly and excellent conversationalists. Several topics were breached, and nobody's delicate sensibilities were offended, no insults were hurled, nobody burst into tears. I felt very comfortable and happy among what felt like were like-minded individuals.

And then there was the food. Let's talk about food. Okay, so these cats refer to themselves as amateur cooks... and I guess in the literal sense, they are. Do not mistake amateur for average, though, or even just pretty good. The food they prepared was excellent on a technical level, but more importantly, it was creative. Flavorful, inventive and freakin' delicious. The courses were as follows:

• Appetizer: Curried Chicken Salad with Walnuts & Cranberries and Curried Pea Dip
  
• Salad: Roasted Corn & Orzo Salad with Goat Cheese and Ginger/Tomatillo Sauce
  
• Entree: Grouper with Zucchini Cakes and Stewed Tomatoes & Olives
  
• Dessert: Chilled Pear Soup with Walnuts and Honey (I think)
  

A few things. First, the curried pea dip looked kind of like guacamole but I could not, for the life of me, place the flavor. It wasn't guacamole. Not even a hint of avocado, and a completely different consistency. Now that I know it was peas, I'm like, "DUH! PEAS!" When it's not easy to immediately place a flavor, you know something's been made both creatively and skillfully. Second, I love goat cheese. I love ginger. I love tomatillo sauce. NEVER would I think to put all three together. Yet, it worked magically.

I managed to take a few snaps, before the wine and food buzz really kicked in and I felt too jolly to be taking photos. Behold:


Our top secret location


People who actively seek out dinner parties at classified locations


Beautiful and tasty vittles

So, to sum up, The Underground Kitchen is a must-do if you like mystery, intrigue, good people and amazing food. The aspect of raising awareness for Habitat for Humanity was a really cool angle as well. Local readers, you have to try it. Just don't secure your reservation before I secure mine. And out-of-state friends and family, if one of your visits coincides with an installment of The Underground Kitchen, you can bet your sweet ass(es) I'll be taking you with me. Every city would benefit from something like this.

Finally, read about the evening from the perspective of the UGK Maestros themselves. I love, love, love that they gave a nod to Bridget's sage words of nerve-calming advice (a story I repeated several times throughout the evening with my rosy-cheeked, wine-buzzarded self).

Not even remotely scary... absolutely, deliciously cool. Right here in Charleston.

Edited to add: Local restaurant critiquing crew, Fork You Blog, have posted their take on the experience at Fork You Blog. It's a fun read.

*I can not vouch for what may or may not have happened after I left.

Rockin' The Kitchen Like It's My Job

Who's up for some more foodiness tonight? Because I'm still all about Campaign for a Less Fat Coco while attempting to zero in on easy things that I really like as to not be deterred from said campaign. Dig? Dig!

I really did not want to make dinner tonight. The heat has been oppressive and draining this past week. Anything involving a flame or radiant heat does not appeal to me at this juncture. However, I just spent $6.00 on two organic chicken breasts and I'll be damned if those sweet little cluckers die in vain because I'm too lazy to appreciate their sacrifice and make something delicious out of them. So, I changed into the thinnest, shabbiest t-shirt I own, slid on my garden clogs and fired up the grill.

2o minutes later:



I ain't tryin' to brag, but this was one of my best experiments yet. And you can do it, too! Here's how it all came together:

1. Take a boneless, skinless chicken breast. Rinse and pat dry with a paper towel. Rub completely with olive oil. Sprinkle salt and black pepper on both sides, rub in to the chicken breast. After I do this, I go turn on the grill and let the chicken sit out to "sweat" a little.
2. Once the grill is hot 'n' ready, turn the heat down to medium-ish and throw the breast on. Get yourself a portabello mushroom. This is a personal preference, but I never rinse or wash mushrooms under water. They absorb water quickly, and that screws up the texture IMHO. Rather, wet a small piece of paper towel and spot-wash the mushroom, removing all dirt. Drizzle with olive oil, put on the upper grill rack (or the non-heated side for indirect grilling).
3. Hang out a bit, then remove the mushroom. I think I left it on for 5 minutes, tops. Just enough to get it tender and give it a couple grill lines. Then, remove the mushroom (leave the chicken). Go inside, get yourself a small baking pan and put your grilled shroom on it. Sprinkle generously with feta cheese and drizzle with olive oil. A dusting of Hungarian sweet paprika is good if you have any. Place under your oven's broiler until the feta starts to melt together and brown slightly. Remove da shroom; set aside.
   
4. Get a dinner plate, throw a handful of baby spinach leaves on it, squirt some bleu cheese dressing on the spinach leaves (go easy, though, too much will overpower everything else) and sprinkle with some pre-cooked, crumbled bacon on top. Not too much, just enough to give the end result a slight smoky flavor.
5. Yank the chicken off the grill, and cut into strips. If you put it on the spinach leaves while it's still really hot, it'll wilt the leaves which is good for texture. Arrange the chicken, garnish with sundried tomato (I like the julienne-cut tomatoes that come in a pouch).
6. If you're like me, dice the Hell out of everything and mix it all together. Best salad ever. Filling, tangy, smoky and nutritious!

If anyone makes this, let me know what you think!

Now, I order you to cast your gaze upon my handsome boy.

Fish Don't Fry in the Kitchen, Beans Don't Burn on the Grill

As part of an on-going effort to become less fat, I have been cooking pretty much all of my own food for the past few weeks. Gone are the days of grabbing a quick bite; I have forced myself to slow down... take a breath... and plan my meals. That's not to say I have sworn off delicacies from joints like Popeye's or Taco Bell, but those occasions will be few and far between. It's been very rewarding, physically and spiritually, to make grocery lists, take my time at the store or the farmer's market, select everything from veggies to meats to seasonings in its natural state and then turn it into something tasty from my very own kitchen. It's kind of zen, really. I recently came across a hellagood marinade for chicken. Here's the recipe for anyone who wants it:

Really F***ing Good Marinade

1/4 cup chopped shallots (shallots are awesome for cooking, I've discovered)
1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon dijon mustard
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
2 teaspoons soy sauce
6 garlic cloves, minced

Just mix all that stuff together and let the chicken marinate at least overnight (I prefer a couple days). The sugar in the honey makes the chicken breast caramelize slightly on the outside when grilled. Another thing I've learned in the cooking trial and error process is that if something calls for fresh herbs or juices (rosemary, thyme and lemon juice/rind in this case), using fresh as opposed to dried or bottled makes an enormous difference. Huge.

For dinner this evening I took the grilled chicken and cut it into thin strips width-wise, and put it on top of a bed of baby spinach leaves and yellow squash chunks (both raw) with a little shot of bleu cheese dressing.

Good stuff.