I take a deep breath on this unusually chilly Monday evening in May as I root for the Boston Celtics, who are slowly beating down the Orlando Magic.  The Magic are fighting to keep the series alive. I’m anxious though, I want them to lose so that L.A. and Boston will once again fuel another NBA showdown. The look on the faces of the Orlando players closely resembles the countenance my friends and I wore on our own faces last night. It’s that formidable look in your eyes when something that you’ve invested so much time in slowly slips between your fingers, and out of your hands.

Last night another showdown occurred. It was between the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 and a Man in Black trying to free his soul. Last night we lost LOST, which by far without sounding dramatic, is the most phenomenal thing I have ever seen on the T.V.  I was not ready to part with the Island. My infamous vegetable stuffing friend Lalig wasn’t either. We glanced at each other consistently while we watched the last episode anticipating and avoiding the end. I can’t lie, it hurt but doesn’t losing always hurt. In moments like this my void is often filled with a single poem, “One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop. I was 20 years old when I first read the poem and its been a constant in my life ever since.

“The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster…”

As the poem expresses, loss is a natural part of life. We gain, we lose and we move on.  The city of Los Angeles, and all the appreciative palates within its vicinity recently lost one of the best restaurants in the city, Sona. I summoned Lalig and we made our way over there on the evening of May 7^th, a week before the restaurant’s closing. On our way there I described to her the two grueling nights that I staged in Sona’s kitchen. The things I saw in that intense, seasonally driven kitchen were glorious. A few thousand dollars worth of black truffles at the Garde Manger station, a sexy chef-owner by the name of David Meyers, and a waif thin Japanese Sous Chef who moved so swiftly and smoothly I named her Neo. Yes, it is this Sona, the Michelin starred restaurant whose clean and elegant French cuisine will no longer grace La Cienega Boulevard.

The softly lit Zen dining room with empty concrete walls kept our eyes focused on the food that evening. The minimal plates resembling pieces of art hit our table in perfectly paced waves. Unfortunately, the dim lights were not so good for my camera and being a novice photographer I have yet to learn to get around these moments. The photos came out underexposed but describing food with a lack of visuals is no bueno, so bare with me.

In order to gain the optimal taste that the kitchen had to offer, the Pre Fixe menu was the only road to take. We chose a splendid bottle of Pinot Noir to compliment our dinner.

First to arrive was the amuse bouche, a palate cleansing pineapple gelée with a soy sorbet.  It was followed by a divine piece of toro with Tokyo Negi, a Ponzu zaballone and nori, which was so thinly shaved it disappeared in your mouth like rice paper.

A sous vide Ocean trout with Fiddlhead fern, fava beans, caviar and coriander leaves soon followed. I love Fiddlehead ferns, their bitter taste was a perfect contrast to the sweet coriander and salty caviar.

The Poussin (young chicken) Roulade was next. You could feel the youth of the bird with each tender bite. It was delicious and creepy at the same time. The spicy chorizo marmalade that lay on top of that poor baby bird added a nice smokiness to it.

If enjoying the baby bird wasn’t bad enough, the veal loin and succulent braised veal cheeks gave me a frightening glimpse into my karmic future. This was my second time eating veal and I definitely resisted at first but dove in anyway. Guilt aside, it turned out to be my favorite dish of the night. It was accompanied by a ridiculously mouthwatering Green curry pomme de terre pavé with mustard greens and carrots.

Lastly we had the Alaskan halibut with Pilipino mushrooms and Pea shoots, it was a little bland but the mushrooms made the dish.

Relieved that we weren’t overwhelmed by the savory courses, Lalig and I blissfully welcomed the desserts and petite fours. The first dessert was a sweet and tart, hard-shelled Meyer lemon tube filled with lemon crème, and served with a Muscato gelée, Buddha fruit and ginger ice cream.  The second was a great example that something savory can be sweetened with success. It was a charred eggplant with toasted marshmallow, coco nib ice cream and topped with a Chocolate tuile.

At the center of the petite four’s plate was a cherry-raspberry with a vanilla bean stem. As Lalig said, “it starting off a cherry and ending up a raspberry.” The other mini, sweet bites were a dehydrated chocolate mousse, Pistachio nougat, a Chocolate macaron and an aromatic fennel cake.

David Meyers is a testament that less is more. I’m genuinely saddened by Sona’s closing. Meyers plans to re-open at a different location in 2011, but naturally it won’t be the same. As Lalig and I were finishing our dessert Chef Meyers appeared to our left and graciously introduced himself to us. Lalig and I both got what she described as “that look on your face when a really good- looking man comes up to you.” I told the chef that I was honored to have staged in his kitchen and that we looked foreword to his next venture. He smiled and I took the opportunity to slip him my card. He said he liked the card and I blushed looking down bashfully like a rosy-cheeked culinary groupie.

Reflecting on this past month, life has once again reconfirmed that the “art of losing” is instantaneous and continuous. I lost one of my favorite restaurants as well as a beloved T.V. show that had generated incredibly deep dialogue between my friends and I. On top of everything else, and to my dislike the Magic fought their way back and ended up beating the Celtics in the playoff game. It’s ironic that I hoped the Celtics would win tonight only so I can have the pleasure of watching them loose to the Lakers in the weeks to follow. After all these years I think I finally get Elizabeth Bishop’s point. Loosing is easy. Gaining is thee bona fide challenge of life. We lose sight of that more often than we should. Luckily a simple poem is there to remind us that our lives should be measured by how much we strive to gain in the midst of loosing so lavishly.

According to my mother Arax, I wasn’t a very demanding child. I was never one of those kids who went to the store and repeated the words “I want.” I was usually easy going and satisfied with the smaller things. I can’t say the same for myself now as an adult. Life has brought with it a lot more demands and consequently I’ve become more demanding of myself, and my surroundings. One of the things that I did always want as a child was a middle name. Our parent’s generation of Armenians tended not to give their children a middle name. My parents were no exception. As I recall, growing up very few of my Armenian friends had middle names. My generation, on the other hand, as exemplified by my friends, are glad to shower their kids with what we were deprived of, a middle name.

I always liked the concept of a middle name, it was just one more word, one more way of distinguishing my identity. Since that didn’t happen, the natural occurrence of acquiring names began. I’ve been referred to as many things throughout my life, sweet, stubborn, passionate etc. Those are the names I’m okay with but there are a few that I’m not okay with. At the top of that list is a word I heard for the first time in the fourth grade from my homeroom teacher, Ms. Rose.  I remember Ms. Rose for a few things; her Miss Piggy nose, high cheekbones, her numerous rose patterned Pencil skirts, and her first cousin, baseball player Pete Rose. However, mostly I remember her because she was one of the first people to point out my flaws.  One evening on a parent-teacher conference night, she told my mother that I was a bright young girl but I tended to procrastinate. When my mother got home that night she calmly relayed her conversation with Ms. Rose to me. I was shocked and a little embarrassed. The nerve of this Ms. Rose, a woman who had permanent pen mark stains on the back of her ears from tucking her leaky pens behind her ears. I couldn’t believe she was calling me out like that. Naturally I liked her a lot less after that day, mostly because that little-big word “procrastinator,” has stuck with me ever since.

Throughout the years I’ve honestly made serious attempts to remove this word attached to my name, but somehow it keeps creeping back. Throughout my school years it almost became the middle name that I didn’t want. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve recently been reunited with it. I have been foolishly negligent of my newly found outlet, my blog Honey. In short, I have failed to meet my own demands of myself. I started this blog for many reasons the most important being that it would force me to write. It would provide the perfect excuse to not procrastinate. Yet, here I am again. I’m not giving in though. Spring has sprung and I have sprung with it. Nature has brought change to the earth and I too shall change with it. No more excuses, from this day foreword I will do my best to permanently shake off the “middle” name I never wanted. Most importantly the stubborn woman in me wants to prove Ms. Rose wrong once and for all.

Spring has brought me out of my hibernation and has taken me to a place that is constantly sprouting with inspiration, the farmers market. Between Venice and Pasadena I’ve come across three different kinds of kale, beautiful bulbs of fennel and perfectly sweet and tart Meyer lemons. A nice piece of fish is the first thing that came to mind to pair with all these floral and light ingredients. I made my way over to my favorite fish mongers in Los Angeles, Fish King and was sold immediately on the words “Fresh, Wild North Pacific Halibut.”

The Buddhists say that life is suffering because human beings naturally fight change, yet change is the only constant in life. In essence we are fighting ourselves. Well, I for one have been riding a constant wave of procrastination since the day that word echoed in my ears. However change is here ladies and gentlemen, and I am catching that wave and riding it for as long as life allows me to. I also want to take this moment and apologize to my blog for being such an awful and negligent parent. After all, Honey is my baby and I promise never to abandon her for this long again!

Kale and fennel are two of my loveliest obsessions. Their aromatic characters and versatility allow me to play with them as much as possible. I could write pages on the nutritional value of kale and how much I love this member of the Brassica family just like my beloved Brussels sprouts. The more bitter the kale the happier my palate is. Those of who don’t enjoy bitter greens, try to look for Kale with smaller leaves, which tend to have a milder flavor. For this recipe I used three kinds; Lacinato, (long, large, green leaves) Russian (purple stems and leaves) and Russian Red kale with hues of red, yellow and orange, resembling perfect fall leaves.

Meyer lemons, darker in color and sweeter than regular lemons, can be found at the farmers market, as well as Whole Foods and Bristol Farms. If you can’t find the lemons, orange is a great substitute; orange and fennel pair together beautifully. The key to searing fish properly is to get the oil really hot and make sure the fish is dry. Let the fish cook (high-medium heat) 2/3 of the way when you initially put it in the skillet. Flipping it over prematurely will not give it that nice golden crust. Using the juice and zest of the lemons/oranges while cooking the fish really adds to the flavor and aromatics.

Wine Pairing: Pouilly Fumé (my personal favorite), Chablis, Sauvignon Blanc (New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc’s are light and zesty), Chardonnay, Sancerre and Reisling.

This recipe also calls for one of the greatest culinary inventions, the Microplane zester/grater. You can find it at Sur La Table, William Sonoma or here.

The recipe also calls for the segmenting of the lemons, those of you unfamiliar with how to segment a citrus fruit, here is a video of Iron Chef Mike Symon demonstrating how to segment a citrus fruit.

Seared Halibut with Kale, Fennel & Meyer Lemon

Yield 4 servings

4  7 ounce (approx. 2 pounds) skinless halibut filets

2-3 bunch (1 ½ – 2 pounds) kale (different varietals), stems removed, coarsely chopped

1 ½ fennel bulbs, cored, sliced ¼ inch lengthwise

2-3 Meyer lemons or oranges (approx. ½ pound), zested and segmented.

Kosher salt & fresh ground pepper

6 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

2 tbsp. unsalted butter

4 tbsp Meyer lemon juice

1. Using a Microplane or zester, remove zest from the lemons and reserve on a paper towel allowing zest to dry. Zest should be thin and finely chopped when using a zester.

2. Segment 2 of the lemons and reserve in a bowl.  Squeeze 4 tbsp. of juice from the remainder of the lemons and reserve.

3. In a medium skillet heat 1 ½ tbsp. of extra virgin olive oil on high heat and add fennel. Cook fennel at medium heat for 2-4 minutes and allowing it to caramelize slowly, add salt and pepper to taste. Remove and transfer to a bowl.

4. Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil in the same skillet and add kale and cook for 3-5 minutes on medium-low heat. Add the fennel to the kale and turn off the heat.

5. In a large, heavy non-stick skillet heat remainder of the oil. Make sure the oil is really hot but not smoking . Salt and pepper both sides of each halibut filet (make sure the halibut is dry) and sauté filet’s on medium-high heat. Allow for filet to form a golden crust before turning them. Cook for 4-6 minutes and add lemon juice and butter. At the same time reheat the fennel and kale.

6. Place fennel/kale mixture on a plate surrounded with segmented lemons and lay the halibut with the golden crust side facing up on top of the kale. Sprinkle lemon zest on top of halibut filets and serve with a chilled wine of your choice.