Dearest readers,

It’s been ages since I wrote. Many Mondays have passed wherein I arrive at yet another hotel and step out of the cold embrace of an elevator to wander the carpetry in search of a door that awaits my keycard. Nashville, Minneapolis, Spokane, Seattle, Portland, and Tempe, you each cradled my head at night (in variously pillowed hands) and welcomed our show to your stages. Thank you.

I’ve walked to work in every type of weather: sweaty, shivering, yearning for a coat, layered like a fava bean, dry and half naked. Regardless of the climate outside, when we enter the dimly lit atmosphere of backstage I always zip into a little sweatshirt to explore the new moonscape. Theatres and hotels are tuned to the same setting as the abandoned crisper drawer in your refrigerator. I’m well preserved.

It’s become my routine to wander the aisles of whatever local grocery store is nearest our hotel the minute I am settled. To casual shoppers it may appear that I’m unsure of what to buy, that I’m scouring the shelves for a good deal. Untrue. I buy the same items every week, I’m just easily overwhelmed by the packaging and artistry on display under the fluorescent lights. I’m terrible at grocery shopping. Which is why I stick to my well-worn rut:

• 1 pound Sliced Turkey

• 1 pound Honey I Shrunk the Carrots

• 1 pound Something Green (cucumber, snap peas, broccoli)

• Fruit (mostly bananas, the shellac on conventional apples may be good for checking my mascara but unappealing for a snack)

• Corn Chips/Pretzels/Rice Cakes

• 1 container Hummus, size: Embarrassing

These foodstuffs build my breakfast and lunch every day, then I treat myself to a dip of reality for dinner and excurse to a restaurant. It isn’t healthy. But it is routine. And lord knows I love a routine (particularly the opening to Chorus Line).

Now that the weather is cresting Spring everywhere I’m craving a picnic. Gingham lining, a nice dry salami, and a container of this lentil salad; these are the images that soothe my dessicated brain. Invite friends to the green, crack open cool beers or something tall and bubbling, and enjoy a meal in the sun. Soon I shall rejoin you in the proper loop of time and space, until then, best wishes on Springtime picnicking!

I will travel in jealousy.

(and leg warmers)

For the last two weeks we’ve been parked on the beach in Ft. Lauderdale. Accompanying the sun and sand was a swarm of Spring Break Zombies, roving packs of girls in alarming swim wear and pillaging squadrons of boys, shirtless, beer in hand. I count myself fortunate that I witnessed only two of these fine specimens mid-vomit.

Note to self: Do not allow future children such leisure.

Note to self: You are becoming a draconian parent. Get a boyfriend first.

For the first time on this tour we stayed in one city for two weeks. This afforded us the luxury of a proper day off (normally we travel every Monday, our only day off per week). The middle Monday was entirely open, an adventure in waiting.

A castmate invited a few of us on her father’s boat for the day, then to a relaxing evening back at his villa. I will admit to some trepidation at a day spent floating. I imagined coming back to the hotel in a shade of red heretofore undiscovered. I wore my sunscreen like a second skin and warded off any hint of color. A day floating at sea was exactly what I needed to revive. The gentle bobbing soothed my frayed nerves and brought a sense of calm to this frantic hotel-to-hotel life.

Of course, I can never spend too many hours without thinking about food. Our plan was to return to the villa après ocean and eat something. I don’t eat just something. My compatriots didn’t want to stress me out with a request for a big meal, but I assured them that time in a kitchen was precisely what my dislocated brain needed.

The night before we left I made a giant batch of Filipino Adobo marinade, split into three Ziploc bags. I turned my hotel room into a prep kitchen, smashing garlic and chopping up raw cane sugar. Should you ever find yourself in the need for a simple and powerful marinade, memorize this: Equal parts Tamari, Vinegar (rice is best), and Water. Add a few cloves of smashed garlic, some star anise, and some sugar (if you have those on hand) and soak any protein in the dark liquid.

I sent the marinade off with a friend who was going up early and asked her to pour it over a few pounds of skirt steak. She obeyed exquisitely. Once in the kitchen that evening I set to work. The skirt steak would be grilled, the marinade reduced into a syrupy sauce. I grilled asparagus and red onions, then tossed them in a chili-aioli. I had my friends make a giant pot of rice, expecting them to overcook it. They followed suit and apologized for the mushy rice. No worry, I exclaimed, it was perfect.

In my wok I fried little cubes of salami with a crowd of scallions. I stirred the fried aromatics into my mushy rice, seasoned with salt and rice vinegar, then heated some sesame oil in the basin of the wok. I pressed the overcooked rice into a large disk in the bottom of the wok and heated it over medium-high heat until crisp. With one hefty flick of the pan I sent the rice cake skyward and caught it on its pale, unheated side. A few more minutes then I slid the crisp cake out onto a glass platter and presented dinner to my friends under the stars.

For desert I grilled nectarines and mangoes, then drizzled a quick-made caramel over everything and spooned that over vanilla ice cream.

All of this is to say: HOW HAVE I BEEN LIVING WITHOUT A KITCHEN FOR SO LONG?!

Also: please make the cake above. I still haven’t baked a beautiful treat and my soul is weeping.

Today we fly to Nashville, who has recommendations for me?

Soup. All I want is soup right now. This drafty bus is igniting my hunger, my craving for a hot meal. Soon. I hope.

Will we reach Grand Rapids? Is this bus destined to be sidelined by endless snow? We’re currently headed into whiteout conditions, complicating an already tedious 8 hour bus ride from Louisville, KY to Michigan. But, before I get ahead of myself, I’ll catch you up on my last few cities.

St. Louis:
The Gateway to the West was trumpeted by nearly our entire cast as a wonderful place to tour, and it certainly didn’t disappoint. Though I could regale you with food memories from a number of restaurants I will leave you with but one suggestion: Bridge Tap House. Impeccably designed, you’ll enter through glass doors and stand under a chandelier of birch branches, looking at the wide, high backed bar. The setting is matched by the menu, a collection of delectable small bites, locally sourced and well seasoned. Eat there if you only have one night in town.

We played to withered audiences for most of the run, the marketing of our show is left in the hands of local agencies and St. Louis had a hard time selling seats. On the upside, we’re now settling into a great rhythm upon reaching new cities and have smoothed out those Tuesday night bumps that soured our early moves.

The highlight of our week in Missouri was a late night visit to City Museum. Do you know this glorious institution? A rambling collection of repurposed shoe-factory chutes, vaulted rebar tunnels, spiraling mazes, a human sized hamster wheel and two jets balanced on castles, it’s a DIY Disney, a grown-up playground. We hurried to the space immediately after our Friday night performance, determined to make the most of the 2 hours left before closing. If you travel to/through St. Louis, do not miss this adventure.

Louisville, KY:
I have to specify that this is in KY because where I’m from (Colorado) we also have a Louisville, but we mispronounce it (in statewide unison, we hiss out the “s”) and this tour, unfortunately, isn’t coming anywhere near CO in the near future. Anyway, onto Kentucky.

The Kentucky Center for the Performing Arts has such a gloriously spacious backstage that we never felt frantic mid-show. Flashdance has a massive set with many automated parts, and in the smaller theaters we’ve had some trouble with the geometry of storage. A crowded backstage can mean trouble onstage, the misfortune of which we were spared here. We were fed enormous audiences, I offer a hearty thanks back to the folks in Louisville who came to support the show.

On my first morning free I wandered in search of a grocery store (I was certain Louisville would be the city I’d start saving money by eating cold cuts in my hotel room). Misled by Google maps, I walked toward what I thought was a market, only to find an out of business wholesale restaurant supply store. What fortune befell me instead? A street full of locally owned businesses and restaurants. I ate lunch at the appropriately spiced Taco Punk and scoured windows for dinner menus.

I walked by a charming shop, Gift-Horse, and decided to take a lap through their wares. Glory! A store full of locally made baubles and bow ties (some with an aprés holiday discount too!). I picked a few precious pieces and chatted with the owner, a barrel-chested milliner named Butch. Our conversation took many paths, but ultimately settled on his favorite restaurants in the neighborhood. His many suggestions provided the meal-plan for my entire stay in Louisville.

Rye
In search of a proper cocktail? Sit at the bar here and marvel at the selection of small-batch bourbons, ryes and whiskeys. Order an array of snacks from the menu and gorge. Their meat plate is filled with house cured chorizo, rabbit terrine, head cheese, whatever the kitchen happens to have churned out that morning will come to you splayed on a cutting board. Do not skip this.

Wiltshire on Market
Butch told me this charming story: Wiltshire is only open Thursday-Sunday because the chef spends the beginning of every week visiting farms and butchers and collecting gems. He comprises a new menu every week, limited choices, everything exquisite. If you don’t have a reservation get here early, it fills up on reputation alone. I’d suggest a dish but by the time you get here it won’t be on the menu. Fortune!

Garage Bar
This is the sister restaurant to the very upscale Proof in Louisville. Garage cooks nearly everything in a gorgeous wood burning oven and does a bang up brunch (order their potatoes,  never before has the tuber been presented to you as such a gleaming treat). It’s in a renovated old gas station and could not be more charming. Watch out for terribly attractive waitstaff, including a Freddie Mercury lookalike manning the host station. Eye candy and good food? Eat here.

I dearly wish we had two weeks to spend in Louisville, it’s my kind of town and I didn’t get to all the restaurants I wanted to try. Alas, we boarded a bus to Grand Rapids and drove headfirst into a snow storm. So long Louisville, I hope my travels cross your borders again.

And that brings me to Michigan, it’s currently a balmy 7 degrees with snow piling up in the moonlight. The cold weather makes me long for a giant pot of soup, but until I figure out what to do about my smashed induction burner I’ll have to eat vicariously through you. The soup in the video above is my go-to winter one pot meal. Collards, buckwheat, I usually throw in some italian sausage for protein, it warms my belly just thinking of it.

From the road,
Dan

Flashdance Road Update 2

Flashdance Road Update 1

You don’t have to ask me twice to throw on a faceful of sequins and go dancing all night on the 31st, but I understand that some of you might want a slightly more civilized plan to ring in the new year. To that end I give you this: garlic olive oil poached shrimp. If you’re afraid of rubbery, overcooked seafood, fret not-this technique is nearly failsafe. Surrounding shrimp in a warm bath of olive oil cooks them gently and flavors them richly.

This year I’ll be spending the holiday in a hotel in Pittsburgh. We’re opening the national tour of Flashdance the Musical on January 1st, so I imagine my celebrations will be delayed by 24 hours. I’ll be in bed early on the 31st, but no doubt dancing my heart away in leg-warmers come the very next day. I made this video a few months ago with Spectrum, oh how I long for a full kitchen again!

So far my plan to traverse these United States with a wok in hand has not gone awry. I’m frying a few eggs every morning and eating them over whatever vegetables I can find and sautee. I refuse to let the housekeeping staff enter my room, I fear the contraband might get me evicted from this upstate Radisson. I’ve made one meal of seared and simmered chicken legs in spiced black beans (from a can darlings, I’m not yet intrepid enough for dried beans on the road), it left my belly full and the air plump with scent. Thankfully we’re only in most cities for one week, the lingering smell of my transitory cooking will be traded in for a fresh batch of breath in the next hotel.

If you find yourself without grand plans on the 31st, make me a promise: invite your most charming friend to dinner (be that your spouse, roommate, sibling, lover or bestie). Cook a small, elegant dinner for two and toast the new year with a crisp glass of bubbles. Lord knows I love to get dressed up and trot it out to the dancefloor, but the quiet sequins of friendship can trump any evening spent among strangers.

A glass to you and bigger adventures ahead,
Dan

Orange Spice Cookies and Lemon Iced Sugar Cookies

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup Spectrum Organic Shortening
• ¾ cup Sugar
• 1 Egg
• 1 teaspoon Vanilla
• ½ cup Brown Rice Flour
• ⅓ cup Potato Starch
• ⅓ cup White Rice Flour
• ⅓ cup Millet Flour
• ½ teaspoon Baking Soda
• ½ teaspoon Salt
• ¼ tsp Xanthan Gum

To half the dough, add:

• 1 teaspoon Molasses
• 1 teaspoon Cinnamon
• ¼ teaspoon Ginger
• ¼ teaspoon Cloves
• Zest of one Orange

And roll those in:

• 2 teaspoons Cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon Sugar

Process

1. Heat your oven to 350 degrees.
2. In the bowl of a stand mixer (or using an electric hand mixer and a separate bowl), cream the Spectrum Organic Shortening and sugar until light and fluffy.
3. Add the egg and vanilla, stir until just combined.
4. In a separate bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients.
5. Add the dry ingredients to the wet, stir to combine.
6. Remove half the dough, wrap in plastic and refrigerate. This wrapped dough will be used for the sugar cookies.
7. To the remaining dough, add the molasses and spices, stir until dough is dark brown.
8. Pinch off small balls of dough, roll them in your hands then toss them in a bowl of cinnamon and sugar. Press these balls onto a cookie sheet.
9. Bake the spice cookies for 9-11 minutes, or until just brown around the edges.
10. Remove from the oven, let cool and eat.
11. Take the sugar cookie dough out of the refrigerator.
12. Toss flour on your work surface (to keep the dough from sticking) and roll the dough to 1/4 inch thickness.
13. Using your favorite cookie cutter (or a menagerie) cut out cookies and place them on a cookie sheet.
14. Bake sugar cookies for 9-11 minutes, or until just brown around the edges.
15. Remove from the oven, let cool while you make lemon frosting.

Lemon Frosting
Ingredients

• 1 cup Powdered Sugar
• Juice of one Lemon

Process

1. Whisk ingredients together until glossy and thick.
2. Dip cookies in frosting, let set on rack.

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This is for all you snack-cakes who fell in love with flash roasted broccoli a few months ago. Guess what? It’s the same glittering recipe! Indeed, cauliflower reacts to high heat much like broccoli, it gets crispy black at the edges and tender as sentiment everywhere else. I expect you to live on this throughout the winter, use it for dipping in hummus (or this), eat it with eggs for breakfast, drop it in soup for a quick flavor bump. Just eat it.

Dad, I expect a full report back after you inevitably fall in love with this.

Oooh. Kiddos, it’s cold here. For the third year in a row I’m wearing the hood from my down coat in bed at night. Sandy hit hard, but she isn’t to blame for our lack of heat. No, it’s my luck to have another negligent landlord. I hear we’ll have heat later today, until then I’m roasting as many vegetables in my oven as possible. It’s a good excuse to keep the oven on and warm up my kitchen.

Lord knows I’m a hummus addict. I make a batch every week (and if I have guests then a second batch will certainly be necessary). But as we shiver into Fall it’s time for a change in dips. There are still some cherry tomatoes at my market and when slow roasted with red onions and celery root they explode with flavor. I normally use pretzels for any and all dipping, but (again, keeping my oven running) this time I opted for flash roasted cauliflower. Burnished black at the edges, it holds up to a hearty dip.

Please, invite people over, warm your home, wear some scarves, and have a ball.

It’s pashmina season kidlets.

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A good host never misses the opportunity to thank her guests, and to that end I must send my heartfelt thanks to anyone who has joined me at my dining table. Like floss for the brain you helped to pick out the ugly bits of sinew stuck between my mental folds and toss them in the garbage.

Since I’ve been living in my own space I’ve tried to invite friends (and sometimes strangers) to join me for a meal at least once a week. As a proven control freak I rarely ask a guest to bring anything (aside from wine). What each of you brings to the table, the thoughts wrapped up in the butcher paper of your bodies, is the perfect accompaniment to the meals I prepare, a more significant offering than you could cart to my place in weary tupperware or pyrex.

For those of you following my OkCupid experiment, the idea was grand but the execution limp. I finally changed the password and login, ending my foray into socially curated dating. On a positive note, the trial made me look again at online dating and get back in the game. Though I have little hope of meeting someone in a significant way digitally, the attempt and practice is of value (much in the same way that waiting in a room full of unhinged actors at an open call for a new musical is rather futile, but I rarely miss one. Auditioning is my job, showing up and doing the work is worthy to itself. Let’s hope dating follows suit).

Some OkStupid highlights from this past week:

-A sparkling email correspondence with an alternative young man (his ears were gauged just enough to fit a roll of Smarties through without touching skin). On the date set to grab a drink he emailed me with a simple “You oughta know, I’ve been partnered for 9 years, but we’re totally open, if that changes things I understand.” High-horse rage on my part ensued.

-A chat box from another young man, enticing me with this gem: “Oh wow, a guy as gorgeous as you must break the balls of so many guys with rejection. And I mean that as a compliment ha.” I didn’t respond. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t offend,” he wrote. From me: “Not offended, just sounded like a Borat pickup line.” And his volley? “Hahahahaha! AND you have a sense of humor, NOW I’m swooning haha. I apologize, ha, I just have a slight ballbusting fetish, so the idea of a guy as genuinely beautiful as you punting the figurative nuts of a dude with rejection, kinda perfect ha. I’m sure you punted your fair share ha.” END SCENE.

-Hot cider and a stroll with an ex-mormon and coffee with Turkish engineer. The first was sparkless, the second so unpunctual I dismissed him outright (30 minutes late!). Perhaps I should only proposition men from countries that make clocks, a Swiss transplant or a German gentleman might be less tardy.

I leave you this week with a recipe for a Carrot-Ginger salad dressing. I served this to the darling Dr. Charles who spent the afternoon with me eating and laughing this past weekend. It’s easy to make a large batch at once, keeping it in jars in the fridge. You’ll pour more over your salad than you expect, this is a good thing, eat more veggies! The color alone is enough to shock you into health as we wrap our throats in pashminas and scarves (my favorite season).

Rockets,
Dan

In my family I grew up eating kugel. Not familiar? It’s a noodle casserole (Eastern European in origin), and can be made sweet or savory. But since I stopped eating gluten? I haven’t had kugel in years. Darlings, my sweet memories are the inspiration for this dessert. Thai Kitchen’s new line of rice noodles cook into a glorious casserole, scented with coconut milk and vanilla. It’s a cousin of rice pudding, all the flavor, much less fuss.

Ingredients

• 1 quart Milk (Whole, Skim, Rice, Almond, you choose)
• 1 can Thai Kitchen Coconut Milk
• ½ cup Sugar
• ½ teaspoon Salt
• 1 Vanilla Bean (or 1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract)
• 4 packets Thai Kitchen Purple Corn and Rice Noodles
• 1 cup Raisins

Get Busy

1. In a large saucepan, add the milk, coconut milk, sugar and salt. Split the vanilla bean (if using) and scrape out the seeds. Add the bean and seeds to the milk mixture (or just add vanilla extract). Whisk everything together over medium heat and bring to a simmer.
2. Add the rice noodles and cover the pot. Cook the noodles over low heat for 15-20 minutes, until they’re soft and have released their starch into the milk (you’ll see the milk beginning to thicken).
3. Remove the lid, add the raisins, and cook for an additional 10 minutes, or until the milk has thickened considerably.
4. Pour everything into a baking dish and place it in the refrigerator. You’ll need a few hours for it to cool down and set in the dish, overnight is fantastic.

• ¼ cup Mirin (Japanese rice wine)
• 3 tablespons Lime Juice (one large lime)
• ~30 grams Palm Sugar (or 1 tablespoon cane sugar)
• 1 tablespoon Thai Kitchen Roasted Chili Paste
• ~3 tablespoons sliced mint leaves

Whisk everything together and set it aside while you work on the noodles. The palm sugar may take some time to dissolve, don’t fret, it will melt soon enough.

Noodles:

Bring a small saucepan of water to a boil, turn off the heat and put in as many servings of noodles as you’ll need. Let the noodles soak in the hot bath for 5-7 minutes, or until they’re tender and chewy. Immediately drain them from the hot water and set them aside while you grill the shrimp.

Shrimp:

• ½ pound shrimp, any way you like them
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• Salt and Pepper to taste

Heat your grill to medium. Toss the shrimp in the oil, salt and pepper. Place the shrimp on your grill and cook them for 2-3 minutes on the first side, until they’re just pink and have some grill marks. Flip the shrimp over and continue to cook for 1-2 minutes, then remove them from the heat and get ready for dinner!

Toss the noodles with the sauce, add some bean sprouts, shredded carrots, or any other vegetables and then top each serving with some grilled shrimp. Dinner is served.