Barbara Lynch’s No 9 Park – How to Get a $122,000 Hangover

Jason does not look like a wealthy man. He’s just north of 22, but could pass for younger. His hair is slightly overgrown, and he would probably look more at home on a couch wearing out a video game console.

He shows up to dinner at No. 9 Park – one of Boston’s best restaurants – in a red zip up sweatshirt, plaid shorts, and white athletic shoes. It’s an upgrade from the flip flops he wore to L’Espalier.

My friend Amy and I, pre-dinner

Jason doesn’t hide his talent, exactly. You notice that he travels a lot, and some of his exploits are rather models-and-bottles, but he recounts these in the same flat, casual tone as everything else. Ultimately, his friends are more likely to clue you in than he will.

Some people are consumed by their vices. They go on scotch-fueled benders or have bid adieu to their nasal septums. Or they gamble. The house always wins, in any case.

But if you’re smart, you beat the house. You play poker. This is where Jason comes in. It’s how he affords the condo in Thailand, the partying in Vegas, and why I’m at No. 9 Park tonight.

His last tournament several weeks ago netted him a cool $122,000.

So we show up at one of Boston’s finest restaurants to celebrate. The hostess takes several minutes to appear before she seats us at the worst table in the house: in a back corner, right by the waiter station.

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How (not) to cook a French omelette, a la Julia Child

Whisking Eggland's Best eggs and water

This Sunday, I tried my hand at making a French omelette after watching a Julia Child video of her doing the same. I didn’t fare so well – the omelette ended up being kind of leathery and dry since I let it overcook. And the cameraman, my friend Dan, decided to interrupt my omelette making to try to save it. Although I was determined to fuck it up myself – and was very audibly irate.

No, I’m not trying to be Julie Powell of Julia/Julia fame. At least, if my life ended up as a movie, I’d hope there would be more of a central driving conflict to propel the entire plot forward. I watched the movie, finally, last week with my favoritest dining partner who decided to retire early with a baseball novel. “This is a really boring movie,” dining partner commented. “But it’s really cute. And pretty!” I protested. Alas, the point remained.

Here’s Julia’s version:

Eggs were courtesy of Eggland’s Best, who sponsored a lovely dinner at Stella last Wednesday and handed out egg vouchers in the goody bags. The most exciting swag was the EB-branded umbrella. Man oh man, I love umbrellas. I constantly lose and break them. Or they commit wind-seppuku. Damn umbrellas.

Oh yeah, eggs. So remember how when you eat a lot of beets, the next day, it’s all beets? Well, same deal with eggs – the better you feed your chickens, the better the eggs they produce. These guys really impressed me with how well they knew their product. And eggs! I could swim all day in warm, gooey egg yolk. I’d die a happy girl if you just fed me a crispy poached egg, then put a gun to my head. Not really. You might have to throw in some more cheese and salt.

Judging Top Chef Harvard 2010

Ready for the onslaught of dishes!

I was honored to be asked by Theresa McCulla, Food Literacy Program manager of Harvard University Dining Services (HUDS), to judge Top Chef Harvard on May 4th in Annenberg.

The challenge was a tricky one: contestants had to prepare an entree and dessert using only ingredients from the dining hall servery. All “cooking” had to be done with available implements – a.k.a. a panini press and microwave. Each undergraduate house, along with the freshman class, duked it out to send their Top Chef representative to the finals, where a panel of judges – Paul O’Connell of Chez Henri, Martin Breslin of HUDS, and myself – scored their dishes based on taste, creativity, presentation, and sustainability.

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