I'm Cookin' Here

Turkey and more turkey

2006-10-03T12:32:00.000-04:00

A few days ago, I decided to make braised turkey legs. I'm pretty sure I've posted about that here before, specifically about my hesitance to use the phrase "turkey osso buco," which I've seen applied to similar recipes. Publix didn't have turkey legs, so I wound up getting them from Gino's, an Italian market on Johnson Street. I luckily got the last two turkey legs that they had. Apparently things are tough all over as far as turkey is concerned. I had one of the butchers there saw each leg in half , leaving me with two small drumstick-sized pieces and two softball-sized bulbs of turkey and bone. All four pieces were browned in olive oil and the rendered fat from some diced pancetta in my dutch oven and then braised with carrots, celery, onion, garlic, tomato paste, chicken broth and about a cup of red wine.

I finally got around to visiting Hollywood Vine, our neighborhood wine shop. I told the guy I wanted an inexpensive red that I could braise with and also enjoy drinking. Previously I've always used inexpensive sangiovese reds like Monte Antico. He suggested a Spanish red, Casamaro. I had a taste and at $12, it was the winner.

Really, an osso buco comparison really isn't that off base for this dish. The dark turkey meat does have similar qualities to veal shanks in color and richness. The turkey legs also have that thin sheath of fat that veal shanks do. Plus there's the whole marrow-infused-sauce thing. After a few hours of braising on the stovetop (Renee was going to use the oven for a cake), I pulled the turkey legs and served them with mashed Yukon Gold potatoes that I'd whipped with heavy cream infused with a good crumble of cheap Goya saffron. I figure if I'm making a cheap osso buco I can make a risotto milanese stand-in as well, right?

The following day, I had an enormous bowl of turkey legs and thick, gelatinous broth. I decided to try to replicate a dish I'd had with duck several years ago. I spooned out a cup or so of the cooking liquid, heated it, strained it and then reduced it by about half. I then steamed some broccoli rabe and set it aside. I reheated some turkey meat, pulled it from the bone and set that aside as well. I then threw everything in a large pan, heated it gently and tossed it with some penne pasta and lots of little chunks of gorgonzola. It wasn't identical to the dish I remembered, but it was quite good.

Dining out more often

2006-09-16T14:29:00.000-04:00

Now that I'm finally getting into a bit of a routine with school, pay and free time, Renee and I have been able to go out to eat a bit more often. Last Wednesday night we went to Beef Eater, an Argentinean steakhouse right around the corner from our apartment. I've passed by the place practically every day since we've lived in Hollywood, so it was about time that we got it together to check it out. I'd also heard several good things about it via Chowhound. They all proved true. As promised, the steaks were inexpensive ($11.50 each for a rather large skirt steak and a vacio, which is akin to a flank steak) both served with a side. We also split a huge salad of beets, artichoke hearts, iceberg lettuce and fat red slabs of tomato with blue cheese dressing. The Argentinean Malbec (Lopez, I believe) was the least expensive red on their list, aside from the house wine. It was unimpressive, but the excellent steak more than made up for it. The meal began with a few crispy dinner rolls and a large bowl of chimichurri, a thin paste of garlic, parsley and oil that's an excellent foil for the richness of the beef.

Yesterday, on our drive down to Key West, we took another Chowhound suggestion and stopped at El Puerto de Vallarta, a small Mexican restaurant in Homestead. Just a minute or two from the turnpike exit, El Puerto de Vallarta sits on a corner of US1/Dixie Highway, surrounded by autobody shops and other Mexican restaurants that, from the outside, could pass as autobody shops. Inside, EPdV's 10-or-so tables were dimly lit by the several muted televisions all showing MTV Tres. The music, from what I recall, was Spanish-language covers of old American radio hits. I distinctly recall hearing covers of "My Way" and Bobby Darin's "Dream Lover."

EPdV specializes in seafood, so that's what we went for, starting with jaiba rellena, stuffed crabs. The palm-sized blue crab shells were stuffed with a seasoned mixture of crab meat and perhaps some fish and topped with melted cheese and a drizzle of crema, a thinner version of sour cream. Next came my ceviche Vallarta, a helmet-sized plastic clam shell brimming with fat chunks of shrimp and thin slices of fish marinated in lemon juice, cilantro and slivers of red onion. It was truly amazing, both in its freshness and size. Renee went for the caldo de pescado, an equally enormous bowl of fish soup. The brick-red broth was light, slightly briney and full of large tender pieces of fish and thick rounds of carrot. Another high point of the meal was a michelada–an icy, salt-rimmed mug of beer (Dos Equis) spiked with lime juice, chilis,Worcestershiree sauce and pepper. Renee found it repulsive, but I thought it was great–spicy, bracing and ice cold. I think EPdV might become our standard lunch spot for trips to or from Key West. Hopefully next time we wont' have such a bitch of a time getting back on the turnpike.

Bee Heaven Brunch

2006-09-12T23:01:00.000-04:00

For Renee's birthday last weekend we had brunch at Bee Heaven Farms in the Redlands, a farming community near Homestead and Florida City. I'd originally heard about the event through an email from the local Miami Slow Food convivium. The brunch was part of several events held in the area that day, including a tour of the Fruit and Spice Park, a tour of Schnebly winery and then a potluck for local slow foodies. As Renee had to work later that day, and it was about 50 miles away, we only made it to the brunch.

Bee Heaven farms operates a CSA program that serves Miami-Dade and Broward Counties, as well as the Keys. I've been trying to convince my dad to get a share this season, but I"m not sure if he'll go for it.

Brunch consisted of fresh corn tortillas topped with scrambled Bee Heaven eggs, guacamole from their avocados and what I assumed were their homegrown black eyed peas cooked with carrots and potatoes. There were also lots of fresh herbs like shiso and oregano, as well as garlic chives (I think). To drink we had iced teas of lemongrass and limeade and allspice, both sweetened with the farm's honey. For dessert, there were preserved guava shells and cubes of firm, salty farmers cheese.

After eating, we got a tour of the farm, which included their avocado groves, bee hives, mobile chicken hutches (which I'd recently read about in The Omnivore's Dilemma), tropical fruit trees and the storage are for all the CSA deliveries. We tasted some coco plums and I even managed to come home with some curry leaves, which I've yet to find in stores here in Hollywood. I probably wouldn't have even noticed the enormous curry bush had it not smelled so strongly.

Although you can't see it here, there are wheels on the corners of this chicken pen so that it can be moved around the property, allowing the chickens to forage and fertilize in different areas.

Tamales

2006-04-26T18:47:00.000-04:00

The last time I was home, my brother and I were invited over to our neighbors' house to make tamales. Although I've made tamales myself several times and always thoroughly enjoyed it, I usually put it off because there's a fair amount of labor involved. Especially if it's just me that's making them. My neighbor Carrie treats the task like it's as easy as making toast. Maybe that's because she has three sons around the house to (ideally) help. This time it turned out that my brother and I were the help. He's a big fan of tamales, and hers in particular, so he was eager to lend a hand.

The masa or dough recipe was based on one from Rick Bayless, but after we'd measured the broth and lard (hell yes, lard) the rest we just sort of eyeballed. The filling was a mixture of pork and chicken with tomatoes, broth (I think) and spices. I didn't get the number of that truck either.

Tying tamales has always been something I regarded as unnecessary, but, as I was the guest, I did as I was asked. Actually, they're much, much prettier that way, and they can take a little more shuffling and stacking in the steamer too. I just may have been converted to tamale tying.

Carrie's husband Tom also made some killer roasted tomatillo salsa, as you can see in the second photo.

In return, I took Carrie out for Nicaraguan tamales at a small grocery on White Street next Saturday morning. Compared to the ones we made, the "nacatamales" are monsters--wrapped in banana leaves and foil and trussed with twine. The filling of chiles, pork, mint, rice and potatoes was quite a bit different too.

(As a side note, I told myself I'd keep the apologies for sparse posting to a minimum. So there.)

23/5

2005-10-03T13:22:00.000-04:00

"Unlike lychees, the meat is a peachy color and the seed is round."

That would be the fifth sentence from the 23rd post on I'm Cookin' Here. Why? Well, I was tagged for this 23/5 meme by s'kat and the food.

The instructions are as follows:
1. Delve into your blog archive.
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. Ponder it for meaning, subtext or hidden agendas...

I don't know that there were any hidden agendas or meanings in this post. I was just describing some spanish limes/quenepas.

As this meme was one of the things kick-started me back into action here, I think I'll do the same thing to Kitchen Monkey, in hopes that he'll post an update as well. I think I'm supposed to tag five people to do this, but, well, no.

I know, I know...

2005-10-03T12:29:00.000-04:00

It's been over a month and a half since I've posted. That's behind us now.

Some sort of recap is in order, however. I'll have you know that I haven't been totally idle. I'm writing daily for Slashfood, and still doing my weekly "Quick Bites" column at The Herald, where I've also started doing dining reviews such as this and this.

One of my recent columns was about blue crabs, like the one you see here. Actually, truth be told, that claw wasn't connected to a crab when the picture was taken. It must have come loose in transport. I took advantage of that and snapped lots of photos, as that was the only one of nearly 20 huge, sapphire-colored claws that wasn't trying to bite me.

In my blogging absence, I've also been home to Key West a few times.

We grilled some sardines from the Waterfront Market.

I hit up 5 Brothers more than a few times for a midnite and a buchito.

And I also spent a few evenings at the family gin mill.

There was also the Telluride Blues and Brews Festival in September. Telluride has a great farmer's market, which is where I found this tigger melon.

Pan Cubano

2005-08-12T20:04:00.000-04:00

This is what I miss up in Sarasota. Really.

Ceviche

2005-08-06T17:01:00.000-04:00

Fresh yellowtail marinated or "cooked," if you will, in lime juice, cilantro, jalapenos, red onion and tomatoes. Not too many better ways to take advantage of the fresh seafood here. I would love to make ceviche more at home, but the places up there that I trust to have fresh seafood are a bit of a hike from where I live. This isn't something I would do with a tilapia filet from Publix ("They're still nice and frosty," the seafood guy once told me with pride.)

Kent Mango

2005-08-06T09:38:00.000-04:00

Let me just say that I hope there are still enormous hills of these mangoes at Robert Is Here when I go back on my way to Sarasota. I'll surely pick up more than a few. After settling for those hard, stringy Tommy Atkins mangoes for a while, this seems like an entirely different fruit. I know I compared the monstera to custard before, but really, it's very accurate. The flesh of this mango has no fibers and it literally melts under the pressure of your tongue. Uncut, the smell was noticeable from across the kitchen. Once I'd sliced off the cheeks or lobes from either side of the seed, the aroma became much more intense. Aside from that distinct and pronounced sweetness that mangoes have, I could also taste some acidic, lime-like notes, and maybe even something a little heavier, almost like vanilla.
I had heard the meaty sections of the mango referred to as cheeks before, but in browsing another mango site, I also heard the red patch near the stem end referred to as the shoulder. I like the functional metaphor.

Tropical Fruit

2005-08-05T09:50:00.000-04:00

I drove home to Key West on Monday. I think I wound up making the best time yet, which was just about seven hours, give or take a half hour spent at Robert Is Here in Homestead. For those unfamiliar, Robert Is Here is a fruitstand and milkshake shop that sits among the tomato fields and palm nurseries on SW 344th Street. When I worked at the Waterfront Market, our produce buyer would occasionally purchase hard to find tropical fruits from Robert Is Here, and that's how I first came to know of the place. This visit had perhaps some of the the most interesting items I've seen there so far. Particularly interesting was the monstera deliciosa that you see above. I had heard the name of this fruit before, but I guess I never connected it to what it was. The taste is similar to a sugar apple in that it's sort of a composite of mango, banana and pineapple. My first reaction to its taste was to compare it to something artificial, as it was more intense than the regular flavors of any of the fruits I mentioned. At $5 a pop, it had better be intense.
As you can see, the hexagonal scales have started to flake away. The pulp beneath is to be eaten, the scales are not. We learned this last night after trying a few of the scales and discovering that eating them was akin to gargling fiberglass. The pulp, however, has a custard-like texture--slimy and yeilding. I now have to wait for more scales to flake off before I can start eating more of it. As I understand it, the pulp is as unpleasant as the scales until they separate from each other.

More visually impressive, but not nearly as tasty, was this dragonfruit. Actually, I found the pulp, which was similar to a very ripe pear, to be just slighly sweet and otherwise bland. It was similar to smaller cactus pears, maybe with slightly less of the berry-like taste that I associate with them. It sure was pretty though. I had kind of hoped to get one of the white-fleshed ones, but the red is pretty striking as well.

I also came home with a Kent mango (background in the first picture), but I havn't cut into that yet. I'll post an update when I do. Almost all of the mangoes I have access to in Sarasota are the stringy Tommy Atkins variety. The Kent is supposed to be less fibrous. It also smells amazing, like a mango ought to.

On this day...

2005-07-20T08:02:00.000-04:00

That's right. One year ago today, I started this blog. A lot has changed since then. More later, perhaps.

It ain't love, but it ain't ba'a'a'a'd

2005-07-13T17:57:00.000-04:00

I went into publix yesterday afternoon looking for a steak. I came out with two lamb chops instead. They were so tiny, like little t-bone steaks that fit in the palm of my hand.

While they came up to room temperature, I got out the mortar and pestle and made a paste of garlic, chopped fresh rosemary, cumin seeds, kosher salt, cracked pepper and olive oil. I rinsed the chops--as I do with all meat from the grocery store--and placed them both on a small plate. I smeared them with the garlic paste, flipping them a few times, at first to work in the flavors and then because I liked the domino-sounding click of the bones on the plate. I then put the chops on a rack and broiled them for about three minutes per side. Served with some frozen peas and tomato wedges with salt, it made a pretty good dinner. Usually, I'll dress peas with lemon juice, but, well, no gots, so they went onto the plate plain. Luckily the drippings from the lamb and its paste were enough to coat them, making a nice glossy dressing.

As for the lamb itself, the cumin really added an extra-meaty dimension to the taste of the meat. The flavors of garlic and rosemary were strong, but I was glad to find that the cumin still stood out. I suspect that the chops would have been even better grilled over some coals, but firing up the grill is a little too much work for a cut the size of a beer coaster.

This was another one of those times when pictures weren't possible because as soon as the food was ready, it was on the table and being eaten. I'll surely make it again though, and maybe take some pictures.

Maybe you like a...how you say?...hot dog?

2005-06-30T20:55:00.000-04:00

My hot dog story from this Wednesday's Herald.

As French as I get

2005-06-26T18:04:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure how it happened, but dinner on Friday included both of the French dishes I know how to prepare--moules mariniere and pear clafoutis (above).

I'd invited a visiting New College friend over for dinner and had decided about a week in advance to make mussels. It had been months since I'd prepared steamed mussels at all, and the last few times, I'd made this Thai version. My moules mariniere is essentially mussels steamed with white wine, chicken broth, butter, shallots and fresh thyme. I've seen other versions that add heavy cream to the broth but I don't really see that as necessary. Also, I did some homework and read Julia Child's and James Beard's versions of the recipe, both of which tell you to put everything in a heavy pot, cover it and turn on the heat. Not so for me. Hardly any more time consuming, I sweat the slivered shallots in a few tablespoons of butter, toss in the fresh thyme, stalks and all, and then add white wine and stock, probably about a cup of liquid all together. To this I add the cleaned, picked over mussels. I put on a tight fitting lid, increase the heat and give the pot a good shake. As the mussels open, I transfer them to a bowl. When all of them have opened, or in some cases proven themselves already dead by not opening, I transfer the broth to another bowl and serve both with toasted baguettes. The mussels were small, delicate and briny. The real star of this dish, however, is the broth--rich with butter and wine, but also very light and clean, tasting of thyme and the ocean.

As for the desert you see above, I had originally wanted to make the traditional clafoutis with cherries, since they are prevalent in the markets now. At least, they were prevalent. By the time I got to the supermarket on Friday afternoon, there were none left, save for the uber-expensive organic cherries. I just couldn't bring myself to buy half the produce for more than twice the price. (For more gripes of this nature, check out what Bad Things has to say lately.) Pear clafoutis is just as good, and so that's what I made.

Perhaps the simplest and most elegant-looking dessert I know how to make, clafoutis is little more than a sweet custard poured over fruit and baked. This version came from Bittman's How To Cook Everything. The cast iron pan makes for a nice presentation as well as a good brown crust on the finished custard. Usually my clafoutis sticks to the pan, but this time, by greasing the pan up with more butter than you'd like to think about and dusting it with sugar, it came clean. A final dusting of powdered sugar really ups the wow-factor.

So far I've only experimented with Bittman's recipe and one from Saveur, which I found a little too egg-y. If anyone has any other clafoutis recipes, please pass them along.

Glossy...

2005-06-26T15:56:00.000-04:00

Sarasota Magazine's website now has a copy of my article that appeared in their May issue. Please let me know what you think.

I'm not sure...

2005-06-25T19:37:00.000-04:00

...what these people are up to, but it looks serious.

Another gem, courtesty of the livejournal image feed.

Dinner beside the sink

2005-06-21T21:09:00.000-04:00

I had Pizza Hut for dinner last night again for lunch today. Despite it being a veggie lover's pizza, something a little healthier was in order this evening.

For better or worse, most of what I ate tonight I ate in the kitchen, standing up, cooking other things.

I began with some celery and blue cheese dressing. I've been craving wings lately (more on that later, I hope) and so far, this is the closest I've come. I also had some carrots and raw broccoli with the dressing. The rest of the broccoli was steamed and eaten with a squeeze of lemon juice. All the while I had some small red potatoes cut in sixths and boiling in a pot of salted water. When they were tender I drained them and fried them with butter, olive oil, kosher salt, cracked pepper, rosemary from the garden, and a smashed garlic clove. The potatoes were brown and crisp--much more crisp than the photos I took of them. When they were done I finally sat down with a Caracole amber ale and finished my dinner.

It was a simple and very satisfying meal with an unusual arch to it. I guess what I mean is that because I cooked while I ate, by the time I sat down, I was already fairly sated. The potatoes were by far the richest of the three "courses" and did serve as a good end to the meal. Maybe I'm thinking about it to much. I tend to do that when I cook for myself and eat alone. Not that it's a bad thing. Wow, anyway.

For dessert, I took pictures of a small dish of cherries. This shot was one of the better ones of about 40. I cut down on the glare on the cherries by masking the halogen lamp in my bedroom with a few sheets of charmin. Crafty, eh?

Cheese of the Week #7: Cashel blue

2005-06-17T18:11:00.000-04:00

A creamy, veined Irish cheese, Cashel is one of the more subtle blue cheeses I've tasted. It was quite buttery at room temperature, not at all crumbly like I had expected. Also, it didn't have as much of the saltiness that I tend to associate with blue cheese. I'm not sure if salty is exactly the word I'm looking for.

Still, it had lots of the flavors I would expect from a veined cheese. Also, at roughly $5 for this wedge, it was a great deal. All respect goes to Patrick for pointing this one out to me.

Craft hour (without the hot glue)

2005-06-12T09:10:00.000-04:00

This is just a fraction of the Thai chilis that my one small plant has produced in the past few months. I can't use that much heat in the kitchen on a regular basis, so I decided to dry them. Those internets had a ton of resources about how to make ristras or strings of chilis. Most of them seemed to be geared toward larger peppers, but I think mine came out just fine. They're drying nicely in my kitchen. Once they're completely dried out I'll probably store some whole and pulse some in a food processor.

Can I just say...

2005-06-04T19:49:00.000-04:00

...that some Jehovah's Witnesses damn-near made me burn my scrambled egg this morning. Now I'm not knocking the door-to-door religion, but, man, I only had one egg in the fridge and I really did not want to screw it up. I told them as much, and they seemed to get the picture.

Awwww We Grillin' Tonight...

2005-05-30T20:04:00.000-04:00

With the weather getting hotter down here in Florida, what could be better than standing in front of a large tray of burning coals for an hour?

I tried a recipe from my new Mario Batali cookbook last night. I'm not really sure why he calls them "beef birds," as the recipe intro provides no explanation. It's simply skirt steak, pounded thin, layered with prosciutto and sage, and then skewered and grilled. Although I skipped the chunks of pancetta that were to be interspersed with the skewered 'birds,' they were still amazing. The proscuitto that got exposed to the high heat crisped around the edges and gave a nice saltiness to the steak. I served them, as suggested, atop a salad of escarole ('schkarole) and shaved red onions, dressed with a little olive oil, salt and pepper. The grilling didn't stop there though. I grilled another skirt steak, straight up, and served it with a Thai-style cucumber salad with lime, chili and mint.

For the vegetarian company, I grilled some zucchini and cherry tomatoes and served them with a feta-sour cream sauce. Props to Gourmet for actually enticing me to make something from their magazine. That's not to say that their recipes are bad. I just never really feel excited about too many of them. Usually, when I do make them, they're always quite good. This was no exception. To finish, I grilled some pineapple, which everyone was too full to really enjoy. I should mention that the meal began with about three dozen gyoza courtesy of Kitchen Monkey. Always a crowd-pleaser. There were also more fresh roasted peppers, olive salad, and Renee's deviled eggs.

I would also be doing a great disservice if I didn't include a picture of Renee's piggy cupcakes. I can't even tell you how excited she was about these-- and rightly so. She even obliged me with an albino pig, as I'm not really down with dyed frosting.

Home-grown Rapini

2005-05-28T18:32:00.000-04:00

When I went out to water the garden this morning, I noticed that one of my rapini plants had finally set a flower (see above). I've never grown rapini before, and I'm not sure what the window of time is for eating it, but as it's a bitter green, I figured I should eat it before it goes to seed and becomes even more bitter.

My battery of recipes for rapini is pretty limited. Really all I ever do is saute it with garlic and chilis. Today was no exception; however I also threw in some Italian sausage, some freshly roasted red and yellow bell peppers, and some shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano. It went together like this: (1) Remove sausage from casing and brown with a little olive oil and crushed, dried chilis. (2) Add thinly sliced garlic and saute for another minute or so. (3) Add rinsed and very roughly chopped rapini. It should still be damp from rinsing, and when I say roughly chopped I mean that I cut a large bunch into three segments. (4) Cover and set heat to low until rapini wilts. (5) Return heat to medium high and add chopped roasted peppers. I've used jarred roasted peppers in this dish in the past, but fresh are much better. Just char the peppers under a broiler or over a flame until the skin is completely black. Seal them in a bag or in a bowl to steam the skins off. Peel without rinsing, remove seeds, and do what you like. Lately I've found it even easier to split and seed the peppers before charring them, but I think you loose some of their juiciness that way. Anyway, you can't really go wrong.

I served the whole mess, topped with the parmigiano, over a split, toasted baguette.

Birthday Dinner

2005-05-23T10:42:00.000-04:00

Renee and went to the Beach Bistro for my birthday last Sunday. Since this place is supposed to be one of the best restaurants in Florida, I was, of course, skeptical. Still, it's not like it wasn't my idea to go there in the first place. I guess I'm just skeptical of fine dining in general. I've had some less than stellar experiences at restaurants where, despite the food being good, the staff's attitude toward young diners thoroughly ruined the meal.

Thankfully, that wasn't the case here. Our waiter was about our age, and I think that helped. Also, he was admittedly new to the job and thus eager to please. He only referred to Renee as "the lady" once, and even then it sounded sincere (as compared to that time a waiter said to me, in a less than genuine manner, "And what will siiiiiiiiir be having?").

With that worry out of the way, the rest of the meal was very enjoyable. The small dining room felt a tad cramped, but the fact that its floor to ceiling windows look straight out onto the Gulf of Mexico helped. I guess I've been sort of desensitized to the draw that the ocean seems to have for a lot of people. The view was great, don't get me wrong. It just doesn't captivate me.

And what did we eat? Well, I'll tell you. We started with a cheese course, which included three American cheeses, one French, and one Spanish cheese. The menu said the course was all American cheeses, and honestly I was a little surprised to find that Manchego in there. Next, Renee had a tomato and Maytag soup which I liked more than my spinach salad with duck and bacon dressing. The mixture of bacon with the shredded duck reminded me of pulled pork. For our main courses, Renee had a roasted duck with a raspberry sauce and a pepper sauce. I opted for the punch-bowl sized serving of bouillabaisse, which was probably the best I've had. We passed on dessert, but the staff brought out a praline encrusted round of vanilla ice cream anyway.

Would I go back? Probably, but not for a little while. I'm still trying to reconcile how I feel about fine dining. I think the best method I've come up with is telling myself that the price of the meal reflects how we were treated, which was very well. I guess I just think of food as such a basal thing, created from simple ingredients. Also, some of the best food I've had has been from street vendors and roadside stands with absolutely no pretense. I've had more good experiences there than in fancy restaurants. Maybe that's just because I don't go to too many fancy places. That said, I'm sure I'll continue trying out upscale restaurants. Just not with the frequency that I hit the taco trucks.

Cheese of the Week #6: Jasper Hill Farm Constant Bliss

2005-05-21T17:37:00.000-04:00

A raw milk cheese from Jasper Hill Farm in Greensboro, Vermont, Constant Bliss was very buttery around the edges and slightly more toothsome in the center. I'm not sure which of the textures I preferred, but the oozy, coffee-and-cream-colored edges had a bit more tanginess to them. Again, I'm curious to try some of their other cheeses to see how they compare. This one was a little pricey, and I'm not sure I'd buy it again, at least not for a little while. Still, a good subtle cheese with great textures. Well worth trying.

Another weeknight triumph

2005-05-17T18:55:00.000-04:00

Not really knowing what I was after, I stopped at Publix on my way home from work. I came out with some salad greens, corn on the cob, and a strip steak. Needless to say, the corn and the lettuce are still in the fridge. The steak went on the grill pretty much asap. In the time it took for my charcoal chimney to get the coals gray I put together a Thai-style salad with cucumbers, tomatoes, chiles, Thai basil, lime juice, and fish sauce. I've found that you can't really go wrong pairing that with a steak, whether it be hot off the grill or left-over.

As for the steak itself, it was a $6 steak. What can I say. It was decent, but a little grainy in texture. I don't know why I decided to get the strip instead of the t-bone. I guess I didn't want that much steak. If anything, what I wound up with was just the right size.

I'm still sorting through the foot and a half stack of Gourmet magazines. So far the best thing I've found is a recipe for clams casino, which I probably havn't had in about 10 years. It's been far too long. Clams, bacon, butter, some peppers? C'mon.

Score!

2005-05-15T13:02:00.000-04:00

A neighbor put about three years of Gourmet (89-91, roughly) to the curb this weekend. There were also a few assorted issues of Food and Wine and Saveur.

Chamomile tea

2005-05-15T09:02:00.000-04:00

For the past month or so, I've been clipping and drying the flowers from the chamomile plant in my garden. The yield wasn't that high, and this morning I finally had what looked like enough to make a cup of tea.

I always try to eat mindfully--although I'm not saying that I always do. But usually, at some point in a meal, I try to slow down and focus on all of the different factors involved in my food getting on my plate--where it was grown, what it needed to grow, and the various people involved. Doing things like planting, watering, weeding, pruning, and collecting these eraser-head sized yellow flowers for a month helped to keep me mindful.

I think the first time I had chamomile tea was when I was five, while staying in a hotel in Antigua, Guatemala. My parents and I would have breakfast each morning on a small stone patio that overlooked a rugged garden teeming with blue and green hummingbirds. The smell of the tea doesn't remind me of that every time, but this time it did. (For more on the Proustian angle, have a look at this.)

As usual, mindfulness gave way to digression for a moment there. Anyway, I brewed the dried flowers in my French press for several minutes, snapping photos and enjoying the smell. That aroma, I soon learned, belied the taste of the tea, which I immediately recognized as the taste that lingers on one's palate after licking an envelope. Repeated sipping confirmed this.

That said, and with space in the garden at such a premium, I just don't think there's a place for that chamomile anymore. Perhaps it would be more comfortable in the compost bin.

Goat Brie...to do what I please...Goat Brie...to ride the breeze (Cheese of the week #5)

2005-05-07T18:04:00.000-04:00

So, as if that joke wasn't bad enough, there's this cheese. It was comparitively inexpensive and I guess I got what I paid for--zero flavor and a texture pretty close to melted processed mozzarella. I'd really rather not dwell on this.

Tacos

2005-05-07T13:31:00.000-04:00

The most recent issue of The Snail has a great article about taco trucks in California. Before I'd even finished reading it, I knew I'd be seeking some out in the next day or two. So, for a late breakfast this morning, John and I went to Bianca's on 301 in Sarasota. Although it wasn't a truck, per se, there were tacos. The cumbia was bumping through the store and the small eating area, just a couple of tables pushed together with some wooden chairs, was crammed with guys in lawn crew uniforms, quietly working away at platters or tacos or huge bowls of menudo. Bianca's had a decent list of fillings, including buche, which I learned is pork stomach. I just went for my usual standby of carnitas and al pastor. The al pastor wasn't as spicy as others I'd had, but both were still pretty good. The only shortcoming, I think, was that the tortillas were not as fresh as they should have been. Next to where I ordered and picked up my tacos was a small bar of condiments, such as radishes, cilantro, onions, salsa, salsa verde, pickled carrots, cucumbers, and probably a few other bits and pieces. With a bottle of BOING! mango juice, it wasn't a bad breakfast.

After that, we stopped at Vung Tao for a few grocery items--rice noodles and lemongrass for dinner later, maybe. Finally, not knowing when to quit, we went to Tortilleria Dona Chela. This time the tortillas were excellent, pulled right off the metal conveyor belt, before being filled with shredded beef, cilantro, and onions. The beef, unfortunately, was way too greasy. Still, the tortillas made up for it. The lesson is, go to a taco place for tacos and not a tortilla shop. Next time I make huevos motulenos, though, I know where to get the tortillas.

Ok, for a Monday

2005-05-02T22:45:00.000-04:00

I put some of the homegrown sage to use on a pork roast tonight, making a paste out of about a dozen leaves, three cloves of garlic, olive oil, kosher salt, and pepper. I rubbed this over the roast, a shoulder blade boston something or other, and roasted it over some potatoes. There's an exact recipe, which I more or less stuck to, in Bittman's How To Cook Everything. Not to be crude, but it was nothing less than fuckin' awesome. Really, it was. The better part of it is still in the fridge. I got impatient and hungry while it was still in the oven, so I wound up eating my leftover sancocho de cola (ox-tail soup) from Mi Tierra. A good dinner any way you slice it.

I finally found a copy of The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook at Selby Library today. So far, it's proven a lot of fun, the recipes being both cute and very eloquent. I'll be sure to post about anything I cook from there.

For those of you in the Sarasota area, you should go have a look at the May issue of Sarasota Magazine. You'll see my article about eating on the cheap.

I know I've stretched the definition of 'weekly' with this cheese thing, but I promise, there's a cheese waiting in the wings (read: my fridge/my camera) to be posted.

I'm slackin' here

2005-04-30T07:53:00.000-04:00

I know, it's been roughly a week and a half since I last posted. I've got reasons though, really. I was home in Key West for about six days, and while I cooked a whole lot, I just never got around to blogging it. There was cooking. Believe me. I wasn't off the boat more than a few hours before we were at the Waterfront Market picking up stuff for dinner, including this snapper.

As far as grocery shopping goes, there's a lot that I like about what's available up here in the Sarasota/Bradenton area. However, I really do miss the cheap and abundant seafood at the Waterfront being only a bike ride away. I believe that fish, which weighed a good few pounds, was only about $5. We prepared it simply--putting several deep slashes down each side, packing them with minced garlic, dredging the fish lightly in flour, and frying it in vegetable oil. I regret not getting a picture of the pan we used, as my father has a beautiful copper-clad (I think) oval pan, just for frying whole fish. Another culinary gift from Phillip (of the chutney recipe and Indian cookbook). When you cook a fish that way, there really isn't much left to do to serve it. We did it Cuban-style, with some slivered onions and wedges of lime.

The following night my father went out for a quart of milk and came home with half a dozen live blue crabs, purchased from a gas station on Roosevelt Boulevard. The guy wouldn't say where they came from, other than that he'd just gotten them from Big Pine. I guess that's good enough. He also had no problem with dad being a few bucks short the crabs, saying only that he can pay him tomorrow. He did, of course. No one wants to be on the crab man's fecal roster. Dinner for the evening became perciatelli and crabs in tomato sauce, much like what I made for new year's eve. Sadly, I didn't get any pictures.

On the next night, I made braciole again. I did get pictures, but they're still on the kw computer. I'll update with those soon. This batch came out just as good as the last, even though I omitted the prosciutto and used parmesan instead of pecorino. Slightly before the braciole was done, our neighbor Tom sent my brother over with one of his homemade pizzas.

I returned the favor later with a big dish of braciole. I'm pretty sure he liked it, as he ate it with his hands.

I'm not sure which night we cooked the rabbit, but we did. I guess it had been in the freezer for a while, just waiting to be thawed. We buy our rabbits from the store, unlike some people. Again, a very simple preparation, basically a braise with white wine, rosemary, olives, and a little tomato paste.

I'm trying to think if I've forgot anything. I now I also turned out another batch of potato leek soup, which I was happy with. There were a few other meals at home, but these were the notable ones. I guess I just can't help myself. I really like cooking in this kitchen.

Cheese of the week #4: Cypress Grove Chevre's Humboldt Fog

2005-04-20T07:57:00.000-04:00

A little late on this (last) week's cheese, I know. I was busy with the Indian food over the weekend and getting ready to go to home to Key West tomorrow. Still, there was cheese over the weekend, and I did eat and photograph it.

I decided to go with another offering from Cypress Grove Chevre, this time their Humboldt Fog. I have to admit that I'm a little amused by their cheese names and how they reflect the company's location in the, ahem, 'economic hub' of California.

Texturally, this cheese was much more complex than the fresh chevre (Purple Haze) that I tried last time. I'm not exactly sure what factors are at play, but as you can see, the textures in this cheese vary dramatically. I would assume that the outer layers get greater exposure to aging elements such as air and moisture, and thus, age differently than the inner layers. I could be totally wrong about that though. If anyone has any insight, please share.

At any rate, these textural differences make for an interesting eating experience--the outer portion of this cheese has a buttery, runny, brie-like texture while the interior has a drier mouthfeel, more like what you would expect of a fresh goat cheese. It was harder for me to distinguish differences in flavor throughout the cheese, however. Overall, there was a tang that reminded me a bit of brie, and there were, of course, some of the goaty flavors you would expect. The fissure that you see down the center is a layer of ash. I wish I could tell you more about why that is, but alas, I'm still learning.

Overall, I'd say this one is another keeper. It was far less up front than the Purple Haze and more interesting as a whole.

Indian Dinner (or All Dal'd Up)

2005-04-17T10:30:00.000-04:00

This morning, shortly after waking, I got out of bed, put on a sweater, and went out to the yard to pressure-wash a large, hardened mass of ghee and dal from a kitchen rug. That said, I should probably backtrack a bit.

Beki and I decided to collaborate on a meal of Indian food, mainly because we both have a copy Yamuni Devi's doorstop of a cookbook, Lord Krishna's Cuisine. Since neither of us really knew where to start with the encyclopedic tome, we decided to make a beach-head of sorts by sitting down and picking several things for a meal.

The menu:
-Mint chutney
-Mango chutney (not from Devi)
-Eggplant, sweet potato, and cauliflower pakoras
-Golden mung dal soup
-Curried cauliflower and potatoes
-Basmati rice with cumin and cardamom
-Mint and rosewater lassi
-Nan

We shopped at India Bazaar and the Red Barn, with a quick detour to Yi's Asian Mart so Beki could reminisce over some Korean snacks, including kim chee. I should add that Beki just couldn't wait until she got home to crack open her jar of fermented cabbage. I havn't been out to my car today, but I have a slight fear that the "knock-a-buzzard-off-a-shit-wagon" smell might still be there. Don't get me wrong. I like kim chee. Just not in my car. Anyway, we got all the groceries we needed, kicked back for a few hours, and then set about cooking.

For a quicker dal, Devi suggests using a pressure cooker, which we borrowed from Guapo and the Alamaidens. Now, that thing came with a manual, and we read it. Honest, we did. We added our ingredients, sealed the pot properly, brought it up to temperature, lowered the heat, and, for a while, the pressure release was chirping happily, as I'm told it should. I guess we didn't lower the heat enough though, because the pot began steaming more violently, eventually starting to spew a turmeric-yellow mist all over my stove and kitchen counter. I removed the pressure cooker from the heat, let it cool down a bit, and then returned it to a lower heat. All seemed to be well, so I went about prepping the cauliflower and potatoes. It's anyone's guess as to what happened next, but my theory is that the release on the pot got clogged with soup and, after another 10 or 15 minutes on the heat, a brothy, Bengali fury exploded forth onto my kitchen. Luckily, I'd pointed the pot away from myself when I returned it to the heat the first time. Not out of any thoughts of safety, of course, but rather to keep my borrowed cookbook out of harm's way. Good thinkin' boy. In my memory, it sounded like a gunshot, followed by a shrill whistle, followed by a sustained hiss. At any rate, it made me duck instinctively. I wrapped a dish towel around my hands and pulled the pot--which had now covered the entire cooktop with soup--from the heat, in hopes that it would calm down. Not so. The Yosemite-like display continued, and, with soup beginning to drip over the edge of the stove, I pulled the pot off and set it to rest on a small blue area rug at the foot of the oven. Eventually, it calmed down and I removed it and the rug to the garage.

Everything else went pretty smoothly. Really, the other couple of hours in the kitchen last night are sort of a blur. I think dinner was finally served around 10 or 10:30. Perhaps I'll describe more of it later. Clearly, that was the highlight though.

Mazzaro's and (sigh) cheese of the week #3

2005-04-10T16:48:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I finally made it to Mazzaro's Italian Market in St. Petersburg. I'd heard great things about it on chowhound for years and, when I friend from the area mentioned that he goes every now and then, I requested that he take me along sometime. Mazzaro's is quite the circus on Saturdays--live band, wine tastings, and customers pretty much wall to wall. I fought my way in, and what did I come up with? Perhaps the best thing was the fresh spinach and cheese ravioli, which, after having made all of it at once last night, I regret not buying more of. Next time I'll be sure to try more of their prepared foods, which included a variety of other prepared pastas, meats, and salads. Along with the pasta, I bought a muffaletta-style olive salad, Italian milk chocolate with hazelnuts, focaccia, rosemary bread, rapini (which I also just planted in the garden), the mortadella you see above, and finally, some smoked mozzarella (also pictured). I'm a fan of smoked gouda, and I'm sure I've had smoked mozzarella, or scamorza, before. This particular chunk of cheese, made by Il Villagio, was not a winner though. The texture was slightly rubbery, and it tasted of little more than hickory smoke. Now I'm not saying that it'll go to waste, but I don't think I'll buy it again.

I prepared the ravioli very simply--tossed with only butter, fresh sage, and ground pepper. As for the rapini, I did my usual preparation of steaming and then sauteeing with olive oil, garlic, and dried chiles. I added some slices of pink lady apple this time though. I'm a fan of apples and kale, and this pairing worked similarly well.

Sadly, I'm almost out of most of the groceries I bought yesterday. Soon enough there'll be another trip Mazzaro's.

"You gonna put up with that braciole?"

2005-04-03T17:15:00.000-04:00

Why yes, yes I am. It's been about two years since I last made braciole, and I figured it was time to give it another try. Although the term braciole loosely refers to a thin scallop of beef or veal, the dish, to many, is a cut of beef, pounded thin, rolled around a filling, and cooked in a tomato sauce. At least, that's how I've come to know it. As with the boliche a few weeks ago, I couldn't find a specific recipe that sounded right, so I combined several of them. I based the stuffing around one from an old issue of Saveur, with a few additions: bread crumbs (I made my own this time), chopped hard-boiled egg, grated locateli, toasted pine nuts, fresh basil and flat-leaf parsley, golden raisins, lemon zest, olive oil, salt, and pepper.

Rather than making several little stuffed packages of top round, as I did last time, I opted to stuff one large cut of flank steak as I'd seen done in a few other recipes on the interweb. Several indicated that I should pound the flank steak to a quarter-inch thickness. Ok, I thought. The steak, however, chuckled silently at my best efforts with the meat mallet. I did manage to thin it out a bit though.

Another variation this time around was to line the steak with thinly sliced prosciutto before spreading it with the stuffing. I prepped all my ingredients, mixed the stuffing, set out a few slices of prosciutto, and readied several short wooden skewers to seal up the roll. It all came together much easier than I'd imagined. Only when I stepped back to admire my handywork did I notice the carefully prepared plate of prosciutto still sitting on the counter. Still wanting to include it, I tore it into strips and rendered the fat in some olive oil, prior to browning the braciole.

After browning the meat on all sides, I removed it from my dutch oven, and sauted chopped carrot, celery, onion, and garlic. I then added a can of whole San Marzanno tomatoes and about 10 ounces of beef broth. I returned the braciole to the sauce, partially covered the the pot, and put it in a 350 degree oven. I cooked it for roughly two hours, turning and basting occasionally.

The results? Well, I can only say that I wish there was a way I could have fit more stuffing into that piece of meat. 'Twas delicious. The raisins played really well with the acidity of the lemon and the fragrance of the fresh herbs. Really, that was the highlight. The richness of the flank steak also gave a nice depth to the sauce. I would definitely put up with this braciole again.

Cheese of the Week #2: Cypress Grove Chevre's Purple Haze

2005-04-02T09:16:00.000-05:00

This week, I came home with a goat cheese from Cypress Grove Chevre in Arcata, Ca. Since last week's cheese was pretty straightforward in flavor, I decided to try somthing a little less traditional. I found this in CGC's Purple Haze, a five ounce chevre round dusted with fennel pollen and lavender. The lavender made me wary, as I know that it can be very dominating when incorporated with other foods. It actually turns out to be the fennel that dominates this cheese though, and I do mean dominates. In a good way, I think. The first bite immediately reminded me of Italian sausage because of the intense floral-fennel flavor. There was an occasional hint of lavender, but mostly, just the fennel. I'm now curious to try one of their unflavored cheeses, as I'm not really sure what the cheese itself tastes like. Still, I'm happy with this cheese. Most of the other people that tasted it seemed to like it as well. When I buy it again, chances are it will be to set out at a party of some sort, as it seems, to my mind at least, to lend itself to that. I think the assertive, floral flavor would probably stand up to mingling, distraction, and other flavors. Really, this seems to be a case where the cheese, albeit a high quality one, is a vehicle for other flavorings. It think that's ok.

As for texture, this cheese was spreadable from the start, and only became more so as it came up to room temperature. Again, probably good to serve on a platter. In comparison, it wasn't nearly as buttery as last week's camembert-style cheese, although it had a similar meltingly soft mouth feel, almost like ice cream if you could divorce the texture from the temperature.

With it, I drank a glass of Saxo, a Belgian blond ale from Caracole breweries. Equally assertive, Saxo had strong, very crisp carbonation and slight apple-y character that reminded me of a hard cider. Also a keeper.

Easter Brunch

2005-03-27T16:03:00.000-05:00

Really, I don't think Easter had too much to do with it, but still, it was Easter, and so we brunched. The noon meal included a potato, leek, and pea fritatta, fresh canary melon and papaya with lime, grilled slices of ham, and rosemary potatoes. Others brought crepes, homemade chocolate truffles, fresh bread with cashew butter, orange juice, and Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee.

Lastly, there were bloody marys. This might have been my reason for brunching in the first place, but I'm not saying for sure. At any rate, I'd never mixed one before, but I was pretty happy with the way they came out. The recipe was, I believe, pretty standard: tomato juice, vodka (Absolut), celery salt, worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, and hot sauce (I used sri racha, a Vietnamese chili sauce--the one with the rooster). As a garnish I used bamboo skewers with large chunks of yellow and orange bell pepper, celery, and cucumber. I like the idea that there's a lot of possible variations. I'll have to include some more stuff next time. Maybe some shrimp or some pickled items. I don't know that I'm ready for the beefamato or raw oysters yet, but we'll see.

As a side note, this was one of those occasions where I was too interested in food to take any decent pictures. My apologies.

Milk's leap toward immortality

2005-03-26T15:58:00.000-05:00

I've been toying with the idea of trying a cheese a week. I don't know a whole lot about different types of cheese, so I figured this would be a good way to try a variety of things and keep track of my likes and dislikes.

What you see here is a sheep and cow's milk camembert from Old Chatham Sheepherding Company in Old Chatham, New York. For now, my cheese vocabulary is lacking. I'll have to read up on some other cheese reviews to see what the best way to describe common cheese characteristics is. I know that this is a "soft-ripened camembert-style cheese." It was quite soft, even right out of the fridge. The texture was smooth, and there was only a slight tang, almost like buttermilk, but with a more aged or developed depth to it. Once it softened up to room temperature, the texture was more like clotted cream (surprise). Overall, a pleasant cheese. More tasting notes to follow, hopefully.

On another cheese-related note, I picked up some Junket rennet tablets so that I might try some cheesemaking at home. Have a look at what this guy is doing.

Boliche

2005-03-22T19:56:00.000-05:00

Sunday dinner was, finally, boliche. I say 'finally' because I've been looking over boliche recipes for several months now. I'm not really sure what I was looking for, but I settled on a recipe from Aaron Sanchez's La Comide del Barrio. The book's subtitle is "Latin-American cooking in the U.S.A," and, so far, it seems like a decent primer to a variety of different Hispanic foods found in the U.S.

For those not familiar, boliche is a Cuban-style stuffed eye of round roast. Granted, I'm not really up to turducken status, but I did manage to get two pork products into a pot roast this time. Not bad, eh? Eh? Eh? Anyway, the procedure was actually very simple, sort of fun, and more than a little obscene. Basically, I drove all eight inches of a chef's knife lengthwise into this four pound roast, created a pocket, and filled it with diced ham and chorizo. So much easier than butterflying or unrolling a cut of meat--no trussing. Oh, prior to stuffing, I used my mortar and pestle to make a paste of garlic, oregano, black pepper, and toasted cumin seeds. I rubbed this all over the roast, inside and out, and then, I stuffed.

Once the roast was stuffed, and Renee and AJ had stopped chuckling at my using the handle of a wooden spoon to jam in the last few bits of ham, I marinated the roast in a mixture of orange, lime, and key lime juices. The recipe called for Seville or sour orange juice but, well, no gots. The recipe didn't call for chorizo either, but several others did. Slight deviations here and there. After about four hours of marinating, I browned the roast in the old le creuset dutch oven, then sauted green bell peppers and onions. Next, I deglazed with a cup of dry sherry, added a can of pureed tomatoes and the marinade, then put the roast back in. I put the lid on and placed the whole deal in a 350 over for about two hours, turning occasionally.

Slightly before the meat was ready, I set about making rice and beans, as well as some fried plantains. The best thing I've found to do with canned black beans is to simmer them with some sauted crushed garlic, dried oregano, and maybe some cumin chili flakes. The plantains were simply sliced on an angle and fried in some vegetable oil until their sugars carmelized.

I removed the roast from the pan, let it rest for about 10 minutes, and then sliced it into rounds and served it with its 'gravy.'

For desert, I'd planned to serve some wafers with cream cheese and guava paste, but everyone just sort of groaned at the mention of more food.

Now, I don't know a whole lot about Cuban food. I know I ate a lot of it as a kid in Key West, but most of the time I wasn't in the kitchen, I was sitting on a bench eating bollitos out of a translucent paper sack. If anyone has any suggestions on a more authentic boliche, I'd love to hear them.

Greens from the garden

2005-03-19T20:03:00.000-05:00

With the exception of a few cloves of garlic and some tofu, all of the key ingredients in last night's dinner were grown in the garden: carrots, onions, thai chilis, and thai basil. I made a basic stir fry and then tossed that with a sauce of boiled tamarinds, fish sauce, rice vinegar, sugar, and water. With a side of brown rice it was very simple, very satisfying.

Pizzelles

2005-03-14T19:08:00.000-05:00

Captured on film for the first time--by me at least. I've made a few batches of pizzelles with my Prego pizzelle baker but never managed to take pictures. Pizzelles are essentially crisp, waffle-like Italian cookies. Mine are flavored with anise seeds and vanilla, which, as far as I know is the traditional flavoring. I'm pretty sure that anise was the dominant flavor in the boxes of pizzelles that would arrive every Christmas from my Italian family in Pennsylvania. While they're just fine on there own, pizzelles are even better spread with some jam--Renee's nectarine preserves, for instance--or sandwiched with some nutella. Sadly, we were in short supply of both this time. Tisk, tisk.

Gratin Dauphinoise

2005-03-05T22:16:00.000-05:00

Perhaps one of the simplest and most satisfying things I've learned to prepare, gratin dauphinoise really makes me appreciate milk and potatoes. This version is only thinly sliced potatoes layered with equal parts whole milk and heavy cream, seasoned with salt, pepper, and ground nutmeg, and baked at 275 for roughly two hours. I've seen other versions (Elizabeth David's comes to mind) that involve rubbing the dish with garlic prior to layering the potatoes. I don't really know that this is necessary, and honestly I've never felt the need to try it.

I should also note that the potatoes I used for this were SunLite "all natural, low carb" potatoes. Now, now, I didn't buy them; they were a gift of sorts. Texturally, they were similar to a Yukon Gold, but not quite that waxy or buttery. Perhaps the most notable quality was how eerily clean they were. Definitely an image-conscious tuber in all respects. A decent potato though--I'll leave it at that for now.

New Links

2005-03-04T19:15:00.000-05:00

I've added a few new links to the bar on the right:
EatFeed: a site that hosts podcasts about food. Think "This American Life" for food.
Technorati Food Tags: basically an aggregator for food related web posts. Better that you just go have a look at it.
Cayobo's Caribbean Recipes: an old friend from Key West with an impressive collection of island recipes. Check him out on Flickr as well.
Epicurious: the ever-useful recipe search engine.
Italian Cuisine at About.com: a wealth of Italian recipes from a guy whose name doesn't even end in a vowel. Go figure.
The Drunkard's Beer Log: some articulate friends with beer to match.

I've also included a link to blogspot's complimentary atom feed, if'n you're into that kind of thing.

Pasta with bacon, peas, sage, and cream

2005-02-27T17:00:00.000-05:00

If you read the previous post carefully, you'll note that I had some heavy cream on hand for yesterday's corn and poblano soup. I still had about half of the carton left over and, what with the foul weather and all, I decided to make something comforting. And what better to do with heavy whipping cream than to pair it with bacon? I don't usually go into great detail for recipes on this blog, but I'm very happy with the way this came out, and, should you want to try it yourselves, I'd like you to be able to. So here goes, roughly:

2 medium shallots or 1 large shallot, thinly sliced
a palmful of sage leaves, thinly sliced (I had to run out to my garden in the rain)
1-1.5 cups frozen peas, at room temperature
3 strips of bacon, cut into half inch pieces
1 cup heavy cream
half a pound bowtie pasta
salt and pepper(I ran out of the latter, but it would have been nice)

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat.
2. Heat a large saucepan over medium heat and render the fat from the bacon. When the pieces are crisp and their fat has liquified, remove them to dish and drain off all but 1-2 tablespoons of the bacon fat.
3. Add the slivered shallots and saute until soft, 2-3 minutes. Season with pepper. Add sage and saute another 30 seconds.
4. Remove pan from heat and allow to cool slightly. Add cream and return to low heat. Stir frequently until sauce has thickened slightly. Depending on how salty your bacon is, you might not need salt. Check now though.
5. Add peas and bacon to sauce.
6. By this point, your water should be boiling. Add pasta and stir frequently.
7. Drain pasta. Do not rinse. Add to sauce and toss to coat.

Mexican dinner

2005-02-27T07:47:00.000-05:00

With the exception of the occasional quesadilla, I havn't done much Mexican cooking in a while. I guess I was inspired by the recent opening of a new Latin American grocery in Bradenton. Whatever the case, I dug out my Rick Bayless book and browsed through it before going shopping at the Red Barn yesterday morning. What I came up with was a recipe for crema de elote--essentially a smooth cream of corn soup with roasted poblano chiles. Compared to some of the other recipes in the soup chapter, this one was a breeze. Unlike the spicy crab soup on the next page, I didn't need to begin by boiling, disassembling and picking the meat from eight blue crabs. Unlike the posole recipe, I needn't scrub and split a small ("roughly 4 lbs") pig's head. No, for this, all I had to do was start by roasting and choping some poblanos. I then cut the kernels off of three ears of corn, scraped the last bits of corn milk from the cobs, and tossed both into a blender with some water, corn starch, and a bit of minced onion and garlic that I'd sauted in butter. This mixture was pureed to a paste--liquified, according to my blender. This paste, which looked, not surprisingly, like creamed corn, was added to a pot with two more tablespoons of butter. It was allowed to thicken over the heat for a few minutes before being thinned again with two cups of whole milk. After simmering for another 20 minutes, I passed the soup through a strainer, and added it back a clean pot with a cup of heavy cream and the minced roasted poblanos. After simmering for another 10 minutes, I seasoned it with some salt and it was ready to serve with crumbled queso fresco and some chopped parsley. The latter sounded strange to me, but I usually try to follow a recipe exactly on the first try. It tasted alright, but it was a strange contrast in texture with the smooth soup.

Overall, I was very happy with the final product. Poblanos aren't incredibly spicy chiles to begin with, and they were further calmed by the roasting and the addition of all the dairy. Still, the soup had some heat to it, and that complimented the sweetness of the fresh corn very nicely. I must appologize that there's no picture of the soup. A rainy day is good for eating soup, but not for photographing it.

The photo you see above is shrimp fried with mashed garlic and sliced guajillo chiles. I fried them in vegetable oil with the shell on in order to get some of that toasted crustacean flavor. I achieved it on a few, but I should have cooked them in several smaller batches. Next time. The flavor was right on though, reminding me of shrimp I'd had in Merida as a kid.

This morning

2005-02-19T13:04:00.000-05:00

The light from my kitchen window was particularly nice around 9 a.m. so I decided to have some fun with what was in the fridge.

This month's Gourmet had a recipe for dates soaked in espresso, cardamom and cinnamon. Here's one now:

Tonight I'll serve them over yogurt.

Last week a co-worker brought in a jar of lemon-vanilla marmalade. I believe it will go on some griddle cakes tomorrow morning.

Who brought forth life from the soil? This guy.

2005-02-13T12:07:00.000-05:00

When blogs collide

2005-02-13T09:25:00.000-05:00

Light and dark; hot and cold; matter and anti-matter; pasta and antipasta.

Last night I collaborated on a meal with that suppin' simian, Kitchen Monkey. He's probably still sleeping off that meal, but keep an eye out, he'll probably have pictures soon. Neither of us know much about Indian cooking, although we've dabbled here and there. While he took on the task of a main course--a red curry with chicken, basmati rice, and naan--I took care of some sides--mango chutney, lemon pickle, papadams, paneer, and mint lassi. It worked out pretty well this way, as the meal seemed fairly well rounded and, had only one person tried to prepare all of that, it would have been a far greater undertaking. With the exception of the lassi, I prepared all of the sides beforehand at my place.

I'd made the lemon pickle and the paneer once before. I think back on those fondly, as neither came out as well this time. Still, both were passable, tasty even. But again, this was only my second attempt at either. Despite longtime family friend and chutney master Phillilp Simmons loaning me Yamuna Devi's _Lord Krishna's Cuisine: The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking_, my paneer and pickle recipes came from an episode of Oliver's Twist. One British source for another I guess (Phillip, not Yamuna). For the mango chutney, I did follow Phillilp's recipe, which I'm not sure I'm allowed to make public. Not that I really have a 'recipe,' anyway. It's more of a list of ingredients with some loose procedure. The papadams were premade, I simply fried them in some vegetable oil.

For the lassi, I did turn to Devi's doorstop of a cookbook, as I wanted to try to make this favorite of mine correctly. Also, I'm always looking for ways to chip away at my bottle of rosewater. This version of the traditional Indian yogurt cooler included vanilla yogurt, sour cream, fresh mint, toasted and ground fennel seeds, superfine sugar (I just pulsed regular sugar in a food processor), rose water, cracked ice, and a little water. I think I followed the proportions on the recipe the first time, but after that I just eyeballed it. Really, just whiz it all in a blender.

Of the five things I prepared, I think I'm happiest with the chutney and the lassi. I would consider making both of them again, soon. See KM for his side of the story.

Seafood

2005-02-06T14:52:00.000-05:00

Yesterday a few of us drove out to Cortez, a small fishing village to the northwest of Sarasota. I just tagged along really. Guapo and Dan had longstanding plans to go get oysters. I'd never been to Cortez, despite my lengthy frustration with the inadequate seafood in the Sarasota area. Now I'm only mildly frustrated, as the Star Fish Company has great seafood, but it's still a bit of a hike from home. My grumblings aside, we left with 200 oysters and five pounds of live crawfish. The crawfish didn't exactly go willingly, but they were far less fiesty than the crabs we cooked for new year's eve. Still, both were breeze when compared to epic battle scene that took place that afternoon at Alameda. These were no regular oysters, the largest being 8-9" in length. Many a shell was chipped and many a knuckle bruised. Everyone seemed to have fun though. The excitement shown by the hosts definitely rubbed off as many people who never thought twice about an oyster bellyed up to the coffin-sized cooler, shiv in hand, ready to suck down one of the briney filter-feeders.

Breakfast

2005-02-05T11:33:00.000-05:00

Actually, I had ham and eggs at about eight this morning, so I guess that was breakfast. This was somewhere around 11:30. Alas, I didn't pick the strawberries this time. They came from the Red Barn. The granola and yogurt are both courtesy of Whole Foods. I still havn't been able to find the Stonyfield maple yogurt anywhere, although this Brown Cow brand maple yogurt is a close second.

I recently outfitted my camera (Canon Digital Rebel) with a new macro lens--a Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro USM. So, if in the future, there are more pictures that look like something out of Asimov's Fantastic Voyage, you'll know why.

Spicy tofu

2005-01-30T17:08:00.000-05:00

I don't really have a name for this recipe. It sort of tastes like a "general tso's" style sauce, but I'm hesitant to lay that label on it. The sauce is essentially onions, ginger, and pineapple sauted in butter, tossed with fresh tomatoes and then a healthy dose of Mae Ploy sweet chili sauce. The tofu was deep fried in vegetable oil--resulting in a much crispier, uniformly fried tofu than I usually turn out. The crust held up after being tossed with the chili sauce, which is what I was going for. Very good. I've yet to make this dish with any sort of meat. Originally it was taught to me with sweet breads, although I think it would be quite good on some fried chicken wings. We've got plenty of mae ploy, so we'll see.

Argentinian breakfast

2005-01-29T10:58:00.000-05:00

I was out driving around this morning--not finding anywhere to park for the downtown farmers market--when I decided to check out the Argentinian bakery on 17th Street. I've driven by plenty of times, but never made it in. The place is rather sparse: a few glass cases of baked goods and a few pieces of metro-shelving stacked here and there with spices, a few bottles of wine, amargo(which seems to be the Argentinian version of amaro, although these weren't alcoholic), and at least half a dozen different types of yerba mata. Behind the counter was a small woman who appeared to be in her 60s; she wore large glasses, a thin gold chain around her neck and a cream colored sleeveless blouse. She smiled when I walked in, saying "buenos," and thus leaving me to maintain the conversation in Spanish. On my way in I noticed a sign saying "los sabados y domingos hacemos choripan." I asked what choripan was and she began by asking if I knew what chorizo was. I answered yes, and made out from her description that it was a sandwich. Knowing that they only make it on the weekend, I figured that'd be the thing to try. While my sandwich was being made, I browsed around the store some more, getting a closer look at all the different types of mate. There were a few varieties flavored with orange or grapefruit, other types were enhanced with other herbs, the names of which I couldn't really make out, aside from what I assumed was peppermint. When my choripan was ready, I asked if there was a certain type of mate that the lady at the counter prefered, she consulted with another customer, for whom she'd been loading up a brown paper sack of pastries. Both said that mixing one of the flavored mates with a straight on was what they did at home. But that if I wanted to just try the straight mate, that was fine, and to try this one or that one. I wound up with a 500g brick of Taragüi, a Chilean mate. Although they sold the traditional gourdes (bombillas) and silver straws, I decided to pass. I've had mate served traditionally, but making it in my French press works fine at home I think.

The bread of the choripan was close to the texture of Cuban bread, but not as spongy. The chorizo was well spiced, and the ample grease soaked into the bread and blended with the mayonaise and tomato, creating a warm dressing much tastier than I'd ever consider that much mayo to be. I'll surely have to go back for some sweets, as that seemed to be the main deal there. More to come on the new mate.

Snail mail

2005-01-28T07:42:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I received my first issue of The Snail, the newsletter of Slow Food USA. It took it long enough to get here, but I guess that figures, right? It doesn't seem nearly as polished as Slow, the organization's quarterly journal, which is available in half a dozen different languages. In fact, it looks more like a college literary mag--all black and white and staple bound. Somehow I find this reassuring; to me it sort of alludes to the grass-rootsiness of the organization. I don't know, maybe they just have a friend that works at Kinko's. At any rate, there looks to be some interseting stuff in there--an article about hand-crafted root beer, in particular. I'll write more when I get around to reading the rest of it.

Brunch

2005-01-23T14:52:00.000-05:00

This morning, and well into the afternoon, North Shore collaborated with Alameda on a fine brunch. Breafast is still something that I don't have a complete mastery of--not that I can claim mastery over many other things, if any--but I think Guapo and I did a decent job of getting most of the food ready at the same time. The pancakes were still warm when the bacon was done. The coffee (I finally recovered my espresso machine, so there was cafe con leche) was still hot when the mushroom, shallot and sage frittata came out of the oven. I fried the criminis in some of the bacon fat, which I think made this one of the better egg dishes I've turned out. The quarter bushel of honeybells I bought at the red barn made a great pitcher of oj, too. Mary also brought some vegetarian sausage, which, texturally, was very pleasing. The spices though, were strange. I swear they tasted like patchouli.

I'm struggling to gather all of the details of the meal. There's still a lingering high from the bustello(two people eschewed a car ride and walked home) and the other general goodness. More later, perhaps.

Pomelo

2005-01-17T18:25:00.000-05:00

Last week, a co-worker brought in a box of pomelos from a tree in his yard. I'd seen pomelos at the farmers market a few times before--how do you miss a grapefruit the size of a volleyball? This was the first time I'd tasted one though. The flavor was, indeed, like a grapefruit, but far less acidic and slightly more floral. I still have the other half in the fridge. I'll juice it if I can find my citrus juicer.

Braised turkey

2005-01-16T09:19:00.000-05:00

Lately, when I wake up on Saturday mornings, I find myself thinking about what I want to make for dinner. Last weekend, it was fruit tart, which eventually gave way to a much simpler strawberry cobbler (see below). Not dinner, I know. So, yesterday morning I was trying to think of something nice to compliment the rainy weather we've been having. Also, I wanted to try to make use of the rest of the bottle of Big House Red that'd been open on the counter for more than a while.

What I came up with was turkey legs braised in a sauce of red wine and tomatoes. It's pretty much the same method I've used for osso buco, although I think that might have been white wine. Turkey legs are fairly inexpensive. A little over a dollar a piece I think. I had the butcher cut each on in half, width-wise, making one half look like a smaller drumstick, and the other half look a lot like a cut of veal shank.

When I started cooking, I quickly remembered that the last time I made this dish I had no chance of fitting all of the turkey pieces in one pot. That still held true, and I wound up using my le creuset dutch oven and a large, heavy bottomed saute pan. I browned all of the turkey pieces in the pan, removed them to a plate, and then sauted a mixture of carrot, celery, onion, lemon zest, garlic, and fresh bay leaves. I'd never had the chance to use fresh bay before. The smell was much stronger, with more of a eucalyptus quality. After the veg had softened a bit, I tossed in a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste and allow it to "rust" slighly. Basically the paste begins to take on a more orange color and a slightly roasted aroma. At that point I added probably a cup, maybe almost two cups of red wine. I brought the mixture to a boil, divided it between the pan and the dutch oven. The thinner, drumstick portions were added back to the pan; the fatter, upper leg portions, to the dutch oven. I adjusted the level of liquid in each pan by adding chicken broth, then crushed some canned tomatoes over top of all of the meat. The dutch oven went into a 350 degree oven, the pan was covered and left to simmer on low. Both stewed for roughly 2.5 hours. I skimmed the fat off occasionally, and turned and basted two or three times. That was about the extent of the upkeep though.

I served the turkey on top of some celery root mashed potatoes--another thing I havn't made in a while and I don't know why.

There is, of course, the temptation to call this dish "turkey osso buco," which, I guess in some sense it is. But I've seen too many menus play with that term, offering up something very misleading, so I'm not going to do that. The final product did look, and taste, a lot like osso buco. I also decided to make a gremolata for the turkey at the last minute. The paste of parsley, garlic, lemon zest and olive oil didn't really do much for the dish either way.

To supplement the lack of vegetables, the 2005 cast of Alameda brought a huge salad, as well mix of other veg--eggplant, mushrooms, cauliflower, string beans, and broccoli--that were steamed in Guapo's pressure cooker.

For dessert, there were cupcakes, frosted with colors not normally appearing in the natural kingdom. There were pizzelles as well, with nutella. I swear, I'll get some pictures of them on here soon.

There was plenty of wine, courtesy of Alameda. We also managed to put a decent dent in my bottle of Fernet Branca. I've made a deal with myself that I won't buy another kind of bitters until I finish the one I have. This one's almost gone.

Jump in my mouth

2005-01-15T08:29:00.000-05:00

The other night, Ann had some chicken that she didn't wasn't sure what to do with. I don't tend to buy chicken breast that often, but I mentioned that my favorite thing to do is to make it saltimboca-style.
I believe that saltimboca is usually pieces of veal, but I'm not a big fan of veal. It isn't really a moral thing, although those aspects don't exactly make me want to eat it. Mostly, I just find it kind of bland, or at least not much more flavorful than a chicken breast.
At any rate, I tend to use chicken for this dish. Although the version we had at Lupa last year did have veal, I believe. Of course, theirs had the prosciutto on the outside, and it was the size of a doormat. Anyway...
We placed butterflied chicken breasts between some plastic wrap, pounded them thin ("bad chicken") and then made a sort of prosciutto and sage sandwich, layering a few thin slices of the ham with two or three sage leaves. Afterwards, we lightly pounded the chicken pieces together again, making a pretty cohesive little package. This fortified cutlet was then dredged in seasoned flour and fried in olive oil. There was a botched attempt at a pan sauce afterwards, but I won't go into that. The chicken didn't really need a sauce, and most recipes I've seen don't involve deglazing at all. Ann's salad of field greens, goat cheese, and walnuts was accompaniment enough.
I hadn't made this dish in probably a year. After having it the other night, I can't imagine why I don't make it more often. I have to wonder if I could do the same thing with chicken thighs.

Strawberries

2005-01-09T11:28:00.000-05:00

Yesterday we went to Hydro-Taste Farms in Myakka City. As the name implies, Hydro-Taste is a hydroponic farm, specializing in strawberries. All of the farms produce is grown in multi-tiered styrofoam planters, each of which holds about 20-30 plants. The farm heavily advertises the "no bending, no kneeling" benefits of this style of planting.

Last night I made a strawberry cobbler with a ginger-cornmeal biscuit topping. Very simple. Comment if you want the recipe.

I still have about half a pound of strawberries left. I'm not sure what will become of them. Keep an eye on kitchen monkey for a possible picture of the cobbler. My camera was in use elsewhere.

Live blue crabs

2005-01-08T07:44:00.000-05:00

"Down, you bastards!"

Maybe I should start from before when this picture was taken. Last Friday, new year's eve, Renee and I decided to seek out some live blue crabs. I placed a call to a fish house on Cortez, and they directed me to Snead Island Crab and Fish House. As it turns out, the place on Snead Island is a bait shop with a covered dock on the back. Renee said it smelled of horse meat; I wouldn't know. Out on the dock, an older gentleman stood hunched over three big rubbermaid bins of very lively blue crabs. He was in the process of pulling out two dozen crabs for a cleancut middle aged couple--who I assume belonged to the silver Mercedes Kompressor that was parked out front. Oddly enough, the guy buying the crabs was from the same town in Maryland as Renee. Even more coincidentally, one of the other guys hanging out on the dock was stationed in Key West with the navy in the forties. He said he well remembered the Brown Derby, one of the earlier incarnations of the Green Parrot. He and another guy sat at one of the dock's picnic tables, sipping on cans of beer and watching the larger fella whip crabs into brown paper bags. After the Maryland guy left with his wife and the tiny dog she was cradling, we ordered our dozen large crabs. We watched as this big hulk of a guy plunged a pair of tongs into the bins, pulled out a crab, sometimes two if they wouldn't let go, and threw them into a sack. Every now and then he'd stop to spit some dip into the cracks in the dock, eschewing the battered cuspidor that sat on a picnic table behind him. Eventually, he tied a plastic grocery bag around our brown bag of crabs, and we left.

I should have figured that, as this guy probably does that every day, he'd make it look pretty easy. What he did in about two minutes--getting a dozen live crabs into a bag--took us about 15 minutes to undo. None of them got away, but we eventually had to dump the bag into the sink, as they appeared to be planning a break. Much to my surprise, I didn't get pinched once.

We boiled half of the dozen with old bay and lemon, threw down some newspapers in the yard, and ate them.

The other dozen were steamed, split apart, and cleaned of their lungs, etc. From there, I fried a couple of smashed garlic cloves and chili flakes in olive oil. I browned the crab peices, still in the shells, until the shells took on a little color and let off that very specific toasted shell aroma. From there, I added a few chopped fresh tomatoes and some salt. I let the sauce cook down a little bit, then tossed it all with about a pound of pasta.

It was a fine new year's eve dinner. Afterwards, we made pizzelles. Hopefully I'll get some pictures of those next time.

I don't think I'd had spaghetti and crabs since I was about five years old, visiting my family in Pennsylvania. The last time, I was more interested in playing with the crab claws. Not that I wasn't interested this time, but less so, I think.

Potato Leek Soup

2004-12-10T20:08:00.000-05:00

Ok, so it's still 75 degrees out at night here, but it was cloudy today--that qualifies as soup weather, right?

When we were at the new Whole Foods the other night, I noticed that they had some fine looking leeks--much broader and healthier looking that at those other grocery stores. I found myself downtown today, so I decided to go back for the leeks, and some boutique bacon. And some sourdough bread that was still warm.

Anyway, here's the potato leek soup recipe. I'm sure you could leave out the bacon, but I don't want to hear about it.

Trim the white to light green ends from the leeks, split them, and rinse them thoroughly. Chop them relatively finely.

Peel and roughly chop about a pound of potatoes. I used yukon golds because they were sprouting in my cabinet. I'm guessing it was a pound. It was a pile of chopped potatoes about the same size as the pile of chopped leeks.

Slice three strips of bacon into half inch pieces. Toss them in a large, heavy-bottomed pan over medium heat. Render the fat and remove the crisped bacon.

Add the leeks and saute until they begin to soften and turn translucent, adding ground pepper as you go. Add the potatoes, followed by enough chicken stock to cover. Simmer (boil if you're hungry and impatient) until potatoes are fork tender.

I happen to have a stick blender around (thanks to my ever-thoughtful friends). If you do too, pulse that soup up. If you don't, a potato masher works fine. After you get a consistency you're happy with, add about a quarter cup heavy cream--or just serve as is, topped with the crispy bacon pieces. Some bread never hurt either.

Garden update

2004-12-05T11:49:00.000-05:00

My garden is coming along nicely. Last week I harvested two heads of romaine. Probably another one due this week. I'm also getting ready to transplant some Thai basil. The first of the shallots have sprouted, and the chamomile looks to be making a comeback. I'm not sure if I'll get any eggplants this time around, but it seems that at least one of the plants has finally gotten adjusted, as it has begun putting up new leaves and blossoms. The broccoli has a head about the size of a softball.

Basil

Thai chile.

Young onions

One lonely little snow pea.

More sausages...

2004-12-01T18:14:00.000-05:00

Upon returning from his Thanksgiving vacation, John presented me with a coil of Italian sausage the size of a hubcap. Regretably, I have no pictures. You'll just have to believe me. I took the sausage out of its casing, browned it, and added it to a basic tomato sauce, along with some sauted yellow peppers. The sauce was then tossed with roughly a pound of penne, put into a large shallow baking dish, covered with mozzarella and oregano, and then baked. Just that simple.

Thanksgiving fallout

2004-12-01T18:01:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I know this post is almost a week late, but I've been busy...cooking. Really, beginning with last Thursday's dinner, I've been on sort of a roll as far as dinners are concerned. It's amazing I can still close the fridge.

Thanksgiving dinner was a small affair--a chicken roasted atop carrots, parsnips, potatoes, onions, garlic and apples, a bread and dried fruit stuffing, Renee's cranberry sauce, and a pecan pie.

As it was only four of us dining, there was some chicken left over. I took advantage of that by making a recipe from a NYT thanksgiving leftover article from 1993. The original recipe was, of course, for turkey enchiladas with mole, but the chicken worked just as well. A rather simple mole recipe, most of the action takes place in a blender. I began by toasting and boiling six ancho chiles. I really need to start using these more. Every time I do, I realize what a wonderful flavor and color they have. Toasting them in the cast iron skillet, their black-purple flesh gives of a wonderful aroma, almost like spicey-smokey raisins. After the chiles had softend up in the boiling water, I stemmed and seeded them. I then blended them with toasted sesame seeds, ground cloves, cinnamon, and allspice, canned tomatoes, melted unsweetened chocolate, half a banana, and some of the boiling liquid. The result is a fragrant, mahogany colored sauce--both sweet and hot. I rolled the pulled chicken meat in steamed corn tortillas along with some jack cheese and onions, covered the rolls with mole and baked them in the skillet.

Since I now have epazote growing in my garden, I made some black beans as well. I charred a whole onion and a whole head of garlic in the skillet, then added them to a pound of dried black beans, already boiling with the epazote. With some rice, it made a pretty good meal for starting with leftovers. Really, the leftover chicken was just an excuse to make the mole, which I still have plenty of in the freezer. More to follow on the garden and the epazote.

Swine on you crazy diamond

2004-11-20T18:45:00.000-05:00

Oh, the Plant City Pig Jam...

I'm really at a loss for words. Still climbing out of the pork induced stupor I guess. All told I think I put away a brisket sandwich--really just a half pound of beef atop a hamburger bun--a few ribs, a baked sweet potato the size of my shoe, various other bites of pulled pork, pork butt, and several glasses of sweet iced tea.

The fair wasn't really too big in size. The thing that impressed me was that, aside from the obligatory bouncy castle and funnel cake stand, there really wasn't anything else besides people selling bbq. I think that says something for the seriousness of the people that participate in this sort of thing. Serious cue...

We didn't stick around for the judging, but from what one of the ladies serving up the sweet tea told us, to be a bbq judge one has to be certified by the KCBS--Kansas City BBQ Society--in an eight day course. Hopefully the winners will be publicized somewhere.

All in all, going out there was a great idea. I'm beginning to feel normal again. My clothes still smell like oak and hickory, I still feel a vague sort of high, and I'm pretty sure I'll forgo dinner.

Here are a few more pictures:

Do you really want blood from these event-goers? You might want to skim that first.

Like I said...

Powerful 'cue.

Re-sotto

2004-11-17T21:50:00.000-05:00

With the weather turning a little bit colder, I've developed the urge to spend more time in the kitchen. I don't think it's really cold enough for me to start baking yet, but, with the kitchen window open, it was cool enough to make some risotto. Taking a few guidelines from Essentials of Italian Cooking, I made saffron risotto, mostly out of what was around. I'm not sure whose rice I used, but it sure wasn't mine. I did buy saffron and chicken broth specifically for that purpose though. The Badia brand saffron is much cheaper than other brands. I don't notice too much of a difference in taste. Maybe it's not as potent. All in all it was a decent risotto: just onion, broth, saffron, butter and a little locatelli. I think this was the first time I used the le creuset to make it. The cast iron seemed to work pretty well at keeping an even heat.

I had plenty of risotto left over, and that's where the title of this post comes in:

fried risotto. You can even see one of the little saffron threads.
I made golfball sized pieces of cold risotto, dipped them in beaten egg and breadcrumbs and then fried them in vegetable oil. With a little lemon juice, it was wonderful. Maybe even better than the risotto the first night. The lemon makes me think that maybe incorporating lemon into the initial recipe would be a good idea. Maybe risotto with peas and lemon? Next time. There's still a big bowl of risotto in the fridge, so maybe more tomorrow.

Road-side bbq

2004-11-14T13:07:00.000-05:00

On the way to the red barn yesterday, I noticed a guy selling Texas-style bbq on 41. Not really ready for bbq that early in the a.m., I decided to pass. Thats not to say I wasn't ready for the plate of chicken tostadas I took down at the barn, but that's beside the point. I went back to the bbq later on that day, saddened to find that there was no brisket left. What I did come home with was a rack of babybacks and a tub of pulled pork. Big John, the Texan behind this place, also informed me that next weekend is Pig Jam, a state-wide bbq competiton in Plant City. Yeah competitive bbq.

Wrap up

2004-11-11T16:47:00.000-05:00

So, I've been a little lax on the blogging for the past few weeks. I've been cooking and eating, yes, just not writing about it. Here's a little wrap up.

Last Saturday, Renee and I went to Jessica's Stand on 47th Street. I'd known about the place for several years but somehow never made it out there. Essentially a farm wedged in between a golf course and some cookie-cutter houses, Jessica's grows lots of organic produce and imports a fair variety of other organic goods. Can I afford to buy produce there every week? Probably not. But man, everything I bought was wonderful. I now have a jar of pickles going, thanks to the organic kirbies, dill and garlic. The butter lettuce made a great salad with just some coarse salt and olive oil. I also bought some Jerusalem artichokes--or sunchokes--which I'd never prepared before. I browned them in butter and olive oil, then steamed them in a little rice vinegar and water, then mashed them with sage and bacon, all as per the recipe in the new Jamie Oliver book.
I've made a few recipes from that book in the past week, each of which came out pretty well. I sort of regret making the sunchokes with so many other flavors since I'd never tried them before. Still, they were quite tasty.
Also, I made an indian fish soup from the Oliver book. I found an Indian grocery in Bradenton--India Bazaar, 26th St., near MCC--that sells fresh curry leaves, bulk spices and a variety of vegetables that I don't know what to do with. A very simple soup, it entails frying spices--mustard seeds, turmeric, cumin seeds, and chili powder with curry leaves, ginger, garlic, chilis and onion, then adding basmati rice, water, coconut milk and snapper.
Oh, and there have been cookies. Lots of chewy, chocolate chip cookies--recipe courtesy of Good Eats.

Grocery grabbin'

2004-10-23T15:46:00.000-04:00

Today Kitchen Monkey and I went to the southern reaches of Sarasota to get groceries from an Asian market. While we were in the neighborhood--if you could call it that--we also went to Geier's, a German butcher/grocery, and an Italian grocery whose name escapes me. I believe it was called Casa Italia.

At any rate, on our first stop we browsed the cramped aisles of the Asian grocery at length. When I say cramped, I mean that when you come to an aisle with someone else in it, you pick another aisle. Still, this didn't keep us from getting a fair amount of strange and necessary supplies, including potato starch--for the negimaki recipe in this month's Saveur--mae ploy sweet chili sauce, udon, edamame, some prawn chips, and a spicy indian puffed rice snack. The suppin' simian came out of there with a wok, some daikon, fish cakes, and lots more. Maybe next time I'll just have to get the Cheer Up brand sardine flavored broad beans. Maybe.

At Geier's I got a smoked pork tenderloin, some coarse mustard in a really neat jar, some caraway cheddar and a loaf of Bavarian rye. The cheese is a little too intense on the caraway, but it is pleasant in small doses. Part of me thinks it might make a good omelette if I used it sparingly enough. Speaking of omelettes, thats where a portion of that tenderloin is headed for sure. Think very lean, very smoky ham.

I didn't come away from the Italian grocery with anything--except the knowledge that Marcella Hazan's son teaches cooking there, and she's doing a signing there in December. Monkey got some jamon serrano, manchego and wine. I might have to come back and get some carnaroli rice to make risotto with. I've only made it with arborio and I'm curious to see if there's a difference.

Speaking of risotto, I had a very rich, perhaps overdone, bowl of risotto last night. After seeing Iris Dement at the Palladium in St. Pete, Renee and I had dinner at Cafe Alma. To give you an idea of the atmosphere and staff, there was a kafka book sitting on the hostess stand, and directions to the bathroom involved "make a left at the dj booth." The decor of brick and wood was dimly lit and comfortable, despite the pounding house music. The menu, as you can see on their website, is filled with a variety of exotic, some would say disparate, elements. I was skeptical of this, as I oftentimes am of laundrylists of ingredients.

The food was good, but cluttered. The pumpkin sage ravioli was sweet and the flavor clear, but the fact that it was topped with blue crab, crispy pancetta and brown butter made things a little confusing. The combination of crab and pancetta was good, but the bacon and butter made things a little slick. All of the ingredients used in our dishes were very good on their own, but they sort of stumbled over each other when put together. The porchini risotto was very earthy, but gritty, I suspect from some residual dirt in the mushrooms. Topping it with an excessive amount of gorgonzola, balsamic reduction and a piece of duck confit was a little much. The duck was excellent, but there was so much going on in that bowl that I couldn't really concentrate, and after having a few tastes of each component, I was too full to really enjoy anything. Would I go back? Maybe. The quality of the ingredients is there, but they just need to have a little restraint in using them.

Spices

2004-10-21T21:56:00.000-04:00

Plenty spices at the farmers market. I picked up some hot paprika, which I think I'll use for deviled eggs this weekend. I never really deviate too much from my regular deviled egg recipe--mustard, mayo, thyme, salt, and pepper. It would appear that there are others who aren't satisfied with regular old deviled eggs.

Pickles

2004-10-21T21:49:00.000-04:00

There are lots of kirby cucumbers at the markets now, and so, pickles. I hadn't made a batch in about a year. I'm not as happy with this batch, I guess because I deviated from the regular recipe by forgetting to include a few things (dill and garlic). Next time will be better. I did pickle some carrots too, and those I quite like. They held a lot of their crunch and carrot taste, but took on a lot of the pickling flavor. I think the next time I go to the red barn it will be with an eye for things to pickle. That sounds kind of suspect, doesn't it?

It appears I'm not the only food blogger who's pickling this week. Through them, I found this. Friggin' internet.

Tomatuhs and potatuhs and them lil' shrimps I like

2004-10-10T20:44:00.000-04:00

I now have a garden. More to follow.

Pad Thai

2004-10-10T07:44:00.000-04:00

Renee bought me a big bag of tamarinds at the Red Barn last week. "Because I know you wouldn't by them for yourself," she said. Read: "I want pad thai." Well, thats ok, because I want pad thai too. Most of the time in fact.

I don't know why I don't make it more often. I guess it requires about an hour of prepping various things, such as:
Tamarinds: Most recipes I've seen assume that there's no way you'll be able to find fresh tamarind pods. Not so. When I started making pad thai, in Key West, I was lucky enough to have a tamarind tree in the yard. I made the dish a few times in the summer, as that's when they're ripe. Now, I get them from the flea market and they seem to be just as good, and its much easier than climbing that giant tree, only to find that most of the pods I've picked have already been inhabited by bugs. I think I only found one buggy pod in the dozen or so I picked over last night. For those not familiar, a tamarind pod is somewhat similar in shape to a very large bean pod, a fava maybe. The shell is mahogany or sometimes silvery brown, and very brittle. It's easily removed, revealing a dark, sticky interior with the consistincy of a ripe date. The taste is somewhat like a very tart apricot. The pods usually house three or four very pretty seeds, about the size and color of pennies. Once shelled, the pods go into a small pot of boiling water. I believe I boiled them for about 10 minutes. Once the flesh was starting to fall apart, I passed them through a seive, then boiled the flesh some more. I did this a few times until I'd loosed most of the meat from the seeds. This left me with a slightly pulpy 3/4 cup of tamarind liquid, which I should add, can also be turned into a beverage when sweetened when made in larger quantities. Hmm, thats something to try at home. To this liquid I added fish sauce (Three Crabs brand), chile flakes, rice vinegar, sugar and vegetable oil. This completes the sauce for the noodles.

Noodles: The rice sticks(I used a one pound package, doubling the recipe I was following) seem to behave best when they're soaked in hot water, rather than being boiled like traditional pasta. A 20-25 minute soak in hot tap water makes them pliable, but not gluey like boiling sometimes does.

Shrimp: About a pound of shrimp, 31-35s is what I had last night I believe, works for a pound of noodles, I find. Some folks are squeamish about the vein or "poop shoot," as it is called with much affection, but I usually don't bother de-veining them. The p&d shrimp at the supermarket were about the same price as what I was going to buy anyway, so I sprang for those. While most were shelled, they weren't actually de-veined. Rather, they just had little slits cut down their backs, making them look as if they'd been deveined. Oh well, joke's on the shoot-haters I guess.

Aromatics, vegetables and herbs: A couple shallots and garlic cloves, minced; a few scallions, chopped on a sharp bias; a good handful of cilantro, some mung bean sprouts.

Eggs: four eggs, beaten with a pinch of salt.

Once everything is prepped, the actual cooking time is rather short. Fry the shrimp in a few tablespoons of nearly smoking oil, set them aside, then saute the shallot and garlic, scrable the eggs with that, toss in the soaked and drained noodles, then the sauce, toss on high heat for a few minutes until the noodles are fully cooked, add the shrimp, sprouts, some unsalted peanuts, the cilantro and scallions. Serve with some lime wedges.

Now, I have a 12" nonstick pan, and it always proves impossible to keep everyting in there. I've come to accept the fact that there will be bits of scrambled egg on the stovetop, peanuts and sprouts on the floor, and at least one rogue shrimp. In fact, I've started to look for and expect that now. Most of it stays in the pan however, and it always comes out quite good.

I'm curious to hear about other people's pad thai recipes. The one I work with was published in Cook's Illustrated a few years ago. I've strayed a little bit by increasing the quantity of it, but I find that their recipe for the 'sauce' works very well. They too assume that tamarind pods are out of reach to the average shopper, and suggest tamarind paste or concentrate. I've made it with paste that someone brought back from Colombia for me. It worked very well, I think it was packed with some sugar though, so it was hard to mederate the sweetness. Also, I've seen recipes that leave the tamarind out all together and say to use ketchup. Strange as it sounds, I can see how that might work to some small degree--the fruit and the vinegar--to copy the taste of tamarind. I'm curious what most restaurants use. I know that after making pad thai at home, I'm not happy with what I'm served in most Thai places. It's either too greasy, too sweet, or the noodles are too gummy.
I still have plenty of tamarinds left, so I guess I'll just keep on making it at home.

Yucatecan fish and a plum tart

2004-09-29T21:31:00.000-04:00

Usually, I only make this dish at home because the fish up here isn't that great. Not that the tilapia on sale at publix was especially choice this evening, I just had a craving for this particular meal. Essentially, this is fish filets poached in a sauce of lime juice, tomatoes and serrano chiles, then topped with cilantro and crispy browned garlic. Normally, I don't agree with cooking garlic to this degree, but in this case, the nutty, almost caramel like texture goes very well with the acidity of the lime juice and tomatoes.

As for the tart, I found the recipe in the new issue of Olive, a British food mag. Originally an apricot tart, I used plums because that's what was available. To start, I caramelized 3/4 of a cup of sugar in a pan, then set the halved and stoned plums in the caramel. I then topped this with a round of puff pastry and put it in a 375 degree oven. I'd never used puff pastry before and it was quite easy. I even made some little guava pastries with the left over pieces. I think if I do this again I'll pass on inverting the tart onto a plate as I think the weight of the plums deflated the pastry quite a bit. Still, it was very good.

Cracklin('/gs)

2004-09-23T22:01:00.000-04:00

I think I finally got the crackling/chicharrones right on a pork shoulder. Maybe it was having it a little closer to the heat, maybe it was the thickness of the layer of fat, or that I scored it with a really sharp knife this time. Maybe the mojo helped. I don't know. I do know that I had some mighty tasty little crispy pork bits. They were like delicious little tiles of pork essence. Also good were the vegetables--red potatoes, carrots, leeks and garlic--that the pork rested on as it roasted. All in all, a fine one pot meal.

Oktoberfest

2004-09-22T21:19:00.000-04:00

My article about Oktoberfest ran in the Taste section of the Bradenton Herald today. It feels a little more formal than what I usually write here, but that's to be expected I think. The headline and subheadings are not mine. Overall, I'm happy with it.

Saturday Produce Shopping

2004-09-19T21:59:00.000-04:00

After discovering that the downtown Bradenton farmer's market had neither the charm of the Red Barn flea market nor the exotic produce of the Sarasota farmer's market, we went back to the red barn. Not before stopping at Turner Donut, W Ninth St., in Bradenton.

I'd never brought the camera to the red barn before. I'm not sure why, I guess I didn't want to look like a tourist. But, as I had it in the car, I figured I might as well use it. Much restraint was necessary to keep from photographing the peacocks/peahens, but I just kept reminding myself of all of the times I'd seen tourists in kw chasing chickens with cameras.

For those not in the area, the red barn fleamarket is just that, a fleamarket. There's a large indoor pavillion, filled with all sorts of tacky schlock--taxidermied alligator dolls, shirts about "dippin' and sippin'," jacuzzis, and much more. Really though, all I go there for is the produce, and the mexican food--more about the food some other time. As I had just taken down a maple raised donut for breakfast, I wasn't really ready for any tacos al pastor or menudo. The produce: it's abundant, cheap and usually pretty fresh.

I think it was worth seeming a little touristy, because some of the fruits and vegetables were particularly beautiful.

I have to wonder if they purposely decided to put these eggplants and these peppers together.

Scotch bonnets/habeneros...I'm not sure if there's really a difference, or if it's just the nomenclature.

More chiles: serranos, jalapenos, and also some peas and key limes.

Nopales--cactus pads.

I think these plums might have been my favorite, both for their color and their being seven for a dollar.

These squash are what made me go back to the car and get the camera.

Also, on the way back from the red barn, we stopped at Wong Kai Imports to get fish sauce, litchi gummi, udon and lots more that will eventually show up on here.

And, after a day of room painting, there was watermelon juice. I'm not sure what it is about this juice that I find so appealing. Maybe its the fact that it has such a potent taste but such a light mouth feel. It really is like drinking water, but it's intensely sweet. Maybe its the fact that I associate that taste with a texture totally different than water. Whatever it is, I enjoy it.

Our kitchen

2004-09-16T19:03:00.000-04:00

Update

2004-09-16T18:57:00.000-04:00

I realized that I hadn't posted anything in more than a week. So here's a quick recap of what I've been cooking (here).

Roasted chicken, tomatos, potatoes with lemon and thyme.

Tofu with lemongrass and star anise.

Skirt steak tacos with grilled serrano chiles.

Lemongrass? Yeah, I think we have some.

2004-09-08T08:02:00.000-04:00

I uprooted the huge lemongrass plant in our community garden plot today. I'll be moving on to more local gardening avenues, thank you very much. Anyway, after bringing home a garbage bag full of lemongrass, I set about trimming it up in the yard. Happily, this involved my much underused cleaver. Unhappily, said cleaver split my cutting board in half. Oh well, it was getting old and stained anyway. Long story short, I now have a ton of lemongrass. So far, I plan on making more thai mussels, a vietnamese beef stew, and some lemongrass simple syrup. If anyone has any other ideas, please let me know. Also, I'm wondering if lemongrass freezes well. The stalks you see below are about two thirds of what I came home with. The other third I transplanted. We'll see what happens.

Hurri'up

2004-09-05T21:17:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I wasn't cooking breakfast with a flashlight at six in the morning this time. There was still bacon though. Most of the day's meals involved the cast-iron skillet, which, I must say, is recovering quite nicely. It fell out of use over the summer and began to rust a bit. A couple of batches of bacon later, it's looking pretty good. I made a grilled mozzarella and tomato sandwich today, using a regular pan to fry the sandwich, and the superhot cast iron pan as a weight. Sort of like a make shift panini press. Had there been a grocery store open, I could have bought some basil or maybe some prosciutto. As it was though, still a good sandwich. I think with a little more preparation, this type of thing could get a lot better. I'll be sure to post something about it next time.

Dinner was bacon and some hash browns, all made in the skillet again. I probably should have rinsed and wrung out the potatoes a little more thoroughly. Actually, I didn't really rinse them at all, so they were a bit starchy. Not bad though. Really, they were an afterthough, as I had a pan of bacon fat just sitting around. I like the idea of bacon for dinner. I'll have to do it more often.

Plomero con Huevos

2004-09-04T16:54:00.000-04:00

Jimbo, circa 1985, cooking huevos motuleños in our kitchen in Key West.

Blueberries

2004-09-03T19:52:00.000-04:00

Last May we went blueberry picking at a place called Blue Oak Farms in Lithia, Fla. I came across one of the pictures the other day, so I figured I'd post it. I hear there's a place near here that has u-pick muscadines(scuppernogs). If there are any left after this storm, maybe I'll go check it out.

Huevos Motuleños

2004-08-30T23:13:00.000-04:00

When I was a kid, probably about five, a friend of my father's came over one sunday and made breakfast for us. I just remember this guy showing up with a big brown grocery bag stacked in a cast-iron skillet. For some reason that meal, huevos motuleños, stuck with me. I finally decided to try to make it for myself.

The dish, literally "eggs in the style of Motul," consists of fried corn tortillas topped with mashed black beans, a Yucatan-style tomato sauce, eggs, peas, ham, fried plantains and farmer's cheese. The recipe I used was from Poore's 1,000 Mexican Recipes, as I couldn't find it in my Bayless book.

All in all, it's a pretty simple dish. It's just a matter of making the various components. I cheated and used canned black beans instead of starting with dried ones. I think I made up for that by actually managing to find the Mexican herb epazote. The local health food store had it, go figure. I'm guessing it was a special order for someone who didn't need all of it. Anyway, the canned black beans were added to sauted onion and garlic with dried oregano, epazote and a bay leaf. The mixture was simmered and then mashed coarsely.

The tomato sauce consists of broiled whole tomatoes, pureed in a blender with chopped serranos. This mixture is then added to a pan of sauted onions and simmered for about 20 minutes.

The plantains were left to ripen in a brown paper bag until their skins were nearly all black. They were sliced and fried in a thin layer of vegetable oil until they carmelized.

The one component I wasn't completely happy about was the corn tortillas. I don't do much frying at home, and really, this recipe required me to fry more stuff before noon than I usually do in a month. Anyway, the fried corn tortillas were a little tough because I didn't get the oil temp quite right. Still, they were crisp, and that was good enough.

With all of these things ready, all that was left to do was scramble the eggs and prep the ham and peas. There were about seven people over, so I figured two eggs per person. Another first, along with all the frying, was scrambling 14 eggs. I had my doubts at first, since the eggs didn't form curds too readily, but by the end, they actually formed very nice, very large curds, which I really enjoyed. The recipe calls for fried eggs, but I don't eat eggs that way due to an allergy. I gave everyone the option of making some sunny-side-up eggs for themselves, but they all seemed fine with scrambled eggs--more pragmatists than purists, my friends.

So, with the eggs done, I warmed up the peas, diced the ham, and set out the farmer's cheese. All that was left to do was stack it up.

I'm pretty happy with the way it came out. It made a very satisfying breakfast. I don't know when I'll do it again, though. Probably right after I make another batch of breakfast risotto.

Lamb and Rice Formula

2004-08-29T08:59:00.000-04:00

No, this post actually isn't about dog food. Last night, we made a few middle eastern dishes. I guess the impetus for this was an episode of Good Eats about grilled lamb. Along with the lamb, we--Matthew, Liz and I--made dolma, or stuffed grape leaves, hummus, and a cucumber and yogurt soup.

As Matthew injured his hand--in a non-kitchen-related incident--it was left up to me to debone and butterfly the leg of lamb. Sometimes butchers sell either the shank or sirloin end of a leg of lamb, but no, we got a whole leg. No matter, I seen 'em do it on that TV. I'd never butchered lamb before, but I had done similar things with other cuts of meat--unrolling bone-in pork loin roasts and such.

Staring down the lamb.

It was pretty easy to see where the bone ran from one end of the leg to the other, it was just a matter of getting in there and working around it. I don't have a boning knife, but a sharp paring seemed to do the job just fine.

Here you can see that the bone, in my left hand, is about two thirds of the way out.

After it was removed completely, I made a few more butterflying cuts to even the meat out. Here's the nearly finished product.

I say nearly finished because at this stage, we decided that it would probably cut down on cooking time if we split the leg into two smaller pieces. After this, the lamb was returned to the fridge to wait until everything else was ready.

[Obviously those are my hands in the previous photos, so I wasn't taking any pictures at that point. The rest of the photos are mine.]

The next thing we prepared were the dolma. I'm not sure on the plural and singular forms of dolma, so I'm just going to say dolma. Dolma'nd if I do. So, this is where the lamb and rice formula comes in. The grape leaves were stuffed with a simple filling of sauted onion, garlic, ground lamb, spices, mint, parsley, lemon juice and rice.

Before being stuffed, however, the leaves needed to be conditioned a bit. Like the hojas or corn husks for tamales, the leaves benefited from a bath in some hot water. This helped to make them a bit more pliable, rinse away some of their brining liquid, and make them easier to separate. It was the latter that seemed the most important, as the leaves appeared to have been jammed into that jar with a boot.

Leaves ready to be rolled.

Since all of our skilled hands were busy during the rolling process, there are no step-by-step pictures. Basically a large spoonful of filling is spread onto a leaf, which, ideally, should be slightly smaller than your hand. The leaf is then folded over the filling and then rolled into what looks like a very short cigar. The little packages are then placed in a leaf-lined sheet pan and then covered with lemon slices, a small amount of butter and chicken stock and finally another layer of leaves. The entire tray is then covered with another weighted sheet pan and baked at 250 for roughly an hour. I think. I was out getting the coals ready.

As I was loading Renee's hardwood charcoal into the trusty charcoal chimney, Matthew was inside preparing the lamb. Each butterflied piece was spread with a mixture of garlic, mint, mustard, brown sugar, olive oil, salt and pepper. The pieces were then rolled up and trussed with butcher's twine.

I don't know why I find this funny, but I do. They usually just give me a handful of twine.

When the coals were ready, I dumped them into the grill and spread them to opposite sides in order to make the heat a little less direct. As it turned out, it was a little too indirect, and another load of coals had to be added about 20 minutes into the grilling. After about 45 to 55 minutes though, our lamb was done.

I know, I know, it doesn't look too pretty, but I shot that one with a flash.

Here it is after being carved.

And here are the dolma.

I know I also mentioned a cucumber and yogurt soup as well as hummus. Neither of these were too photogenic. Basically, the soup was a puree of yogurt, cucumber, garlic, and tomato paste, served chilled. The hummus of course was chick peas, garlic, tahini, olive oil, parsley and lemon juice.

The table, complete with some hand holdin' and a salad.

Blue-Green Sea Algae

2004-08-26T08:16:00.000-04:00

It's what's for breakfast. What do you mean, 'what do you mean?'

Fesenjoon

2004-08-20T18:16:00.000-04:00

I learned to make fesenjoon the other night. Essentially a pomegranate and walnut stew, the version I learned was made with chicken thighs:

Chop two medium onions sweat them in oil for a few minutes, next add skin-on chicken thighs and allow to brown. When the chicken has browned a bit, add pomegranate syrup (not grenadine), ground, toasted walnuts and sugar or honey. Thin the mixture with water and allow to simmer until chicken falls off the bone. The pom syrup is quite tart, so check up on it throughout, and adjust with more sugar or honey. Serve over rice.

All in all, it was a very simple stew to make. It could have been cacciatore had we used red wine and tomatoes, but instead, it became middle eastern comfort food. Exotic? Maybe. Difficult? Not at all. Something that I learned early on about cooking is that most of the things that I enjoyed, or wanted to learn to cook were, essentially, peasant food. With that in mind, how hard can they really be? That's not to say there's a lower level of care taken in preparation, but just because something is unfamiliar and tasty, it doesn't have to be difficult. Most recipes--baking aside--don't intimidate me because I figure I've made something like it at some point, even if the ingredients are totally different.

Spanish Limes, Genips, Quenepas, Mamoncillos

2004-08-20T17:56:00.000-04:00

Call them what you will, I brought lots back from Key West. It seems like mamoncillo is the most common name. At least it turned up the most results on google. Apparently they're related to lychees, which isn't too hard to believe, since they have a similarly leathery skin, soft, slimy flesh and large seed. Unlike lychees, the meat is a peachy color and the seed is round. I've been trying to think of ways to prepare them other than just eating them straight. I found one website that suggested soaking them in white rum and sugar for extended periods of time. I might try that. I've also made drinks from them in the past, with good results. If anybody has any other ideas, please let me know.

Very Inphomative

2004-08-19T08:42:00.000-04:00

Of course, the egullet people were quick to jump on my question about pho meatballs, which, I learned, are made in the kitchen and not in the cow. The texture apparently comes from the inclusion of things like tendon and various starches. The most recent and informative response to my egullet post came from a woman named Andrea, who hosts a website on Vietnamese cooking. I look forward to trying some of the recipes on there, as they'll give me a way to use up some more of the lemongrass in the garden.

It's What's Pho Dinner

2004-08-17T20:29:00.000-04:00

Last night Renee and I went to Miss Saigon on 301. I hadn't had good pho since Nha Trang closed last year. I guess that's my fault since Miss Saigon has been in business for quite a while. I just never made it in there.

Their pho was very satisfying: the broth was rich with star anise and the cuts of meat were very delicate, even the tendon. I passed on the pho with tripe, but I realized afterwards that what I'd had at Nha Trang was probably tripe as well, just not the type of tripe I'm used to. I'm guessing that dishes like menudo use the tripe from one cow stomach and pho tripe comes from another. What I remember in Nha Trang's pho was something that almost resembled some sort of sea fan--long, pale and feathery. I'll have to try the pho with everything next time. I'm also curious about the little meatballs in there. Maybe the folks on egullet would know about those.

Along with this soup-that-eats-like-a-meal, I had a soda with salt-preserved lime. It was interesting, bracing even, at first. About half way down the large fountain glass, however, the drink became too briney for me to handle. Maybe next time I'll try the preserved plum soda.

Here's a link to an amazing pho restaurant. Well, the name is amazing at least. Ok, at least to me it is. Far better than the pun at the beginning of this post. Nearly a pho-pas. Nearly. Anyway, the post also has a link to an entire pho blog. Talk about having a focused project. Note my restraint there.

Fizzy Fruit

2004-08-13T20:13:00.000-04:00

Here's another one to chalk up in the "people messing with fruit" column. I'd heard of fizzy fruit a few years ago as sort of a backyard mistake that turned into some sort of entrepreneurship. Looks like it's gotten the attention of some others. Much like the grapple, I'm not sure I approve of this, but I sure would like to try it.

Breakfast by Flashlight

2004-08-13T07:58:00.000-04:00

Well, the power was only out for about an hour, but it was a hungry hour between six and seven a.m. So, it was bacon and hash browns cooked by flashlight. It's still pretty windy down here, but it would appear that things aren't going to get much worse. Here's a picture taken at around 5:30 a.m., from the second floor of our house. Hopefully there'll be a few more pictures later.

Hurricanes and Dog Food

2004-08-11T15:16:00.000-04:00

I'm still in Key West, and as luck would have it, there's a hurricane slated to pass through here in the next few days. So, while we go about gathering supplies and considering what sort of non-perishable items we'll be stocking our larder with, our dog Willie (aka Wilbur, aka Wil da Beast, aka WillieBurgers or, just plain Burger (if you're nasty)) will be dining on his new Innovative Veterinary Diets brand Venison and Potato formula dog food. He has allergies apparently. Curious and to some degree jealous that the dog gets to eat game every night and I don't, I checked out the ingredient listing in hopes of consoling myself. The list begins as follows: "potatoes, water sufficient for processing, venison by-products[um, yeah, I feel a little less cheated already], venison, canola oil,...natural venison flavor[have to put that on the next grocery list]." What follows these distinguishable ingredients is a list of various vitamins, minerals and preservatives such as "manganous proteinate" and "menadione sodium bisulfate complex (source of vitamin K activity)." This list of various unpronounceables is capped off by, of all things, "rosemary." So yeah, the dog is eating like a hunter. He is part jack russell. I suppose he'll want some brown bread, chantrelles and red wine to go with it. Sorry Wilbur.

For those of you who haven't seen the dog, I apologize, there will be no pictures. Oh I have pictures, but if I posted them, I'd move into the category of those other people, the ones that post pet pictures online. Somehow writing about him seems more defensible to me.

At any rate, there may be some posts in the near future dealing with cooking in the dark and opening the fridge very sparingly, but hopefully not.

Some Menu

2004-08-09T15:03:00.000-04:00

Have a look at the menu of Shopsin's in NYC.

A few of my favorites items are the "ho cakes" and "slutty cakes," and the "cowboy" french toast (with sausage) and the "nowboy" (with vegan sausage).

I'd heard of this place via a Calvin Trillin article in the New Yorker a few years ago. I only recently discovered their online menu, thanks to a post on Kottke.org.

New Links

2004-08-07T00:02:00.000-04:00

I've put up some new links in the past few days. Most are food-related and pretty self-explanatory. I've also included a link to the newly resuscitated Green Parrot Bar Blog, brought back to life by none other than the damn pater familias.

Note: Upon spell checking this entry, I learned that the word "blog" is not in blogger's spell checker.

Dinner for Twelve

2004-08-05T00:34:00.000-04:00

I don't think I've ever intentionally prepared food for this many people before. All in all, everthing came out pretty well. I shopped for everything the day before, so that helped.

The menu:

Olive and Carrot Salad

Crostini:
-Tuscan Chicken Liver Pate
-Mashed Cannelini Beans with Sage
-Roasted Red and Yellow Peppers (I think this one might be classified as bruschetta, due to the peppers rather than a spread like the previous two.)

Pasta:
Ziti with Red Wine and Tomato Gravy

Meat:
Underblade Roast Braised in Red Wine and Aromatic Vegetables

Greens:
String Bean and Oregano Salad

Dessert:
Strawberry Tart (I take no credit for the tart. Tik brought it.)

If I could do anything over, I would have put the pasta up a little later. I boiled it a little early and it got a bit gummy waiting to be eaten. Other than that, everything went according to plan.

I hadn't made the pate in a while, but it seems to have been better than the previous attempt last year. I think I might have used a little more pancetta and tomato paste. Essentially, the pate begins by rendering the fat out of some minced pancetta (Italian style bacon). This fat is then used to saute slivered shallots and torn sage leaves. Once the shallots are soft, chopped chicken livers are added, along with capers and anchovy fillets. The livers are cooked until they reach a putty like color, at which point red wine and black pepper are added. The mixture then simmers for five to ten minutes. A bay leaf is added and the livers are taken off the heat. After about 20 minutes, the bay leaf is removed and the mixture is transfered to a food processor where it is blended with tomato paste. Were it not for the final addition of the tomato paste, the pate would have a rather unpleasant dark gray color. With the paste, the mixture takes on a rusty, autumnal tone.

The other crostini topping is simply canned beans mashed with sage infused olive oil. I also had to use a little water to thin the final mash out a bit. The result was a lot like a firm hummus, but tasting of sage rather than, um, hummus.

The roast was quite standard: meat browned thoroughly in vegetable oil; carrot, celery, garlic, onion, lemon zest sauted in meat renderings; tomato paste added, red wine added, beef stock added, roast simmered for a few hours. Simple.

It was really nice to have a few new people over for dinner. Not really new I guess, but not people that normally come over .

The next big group meal should be in a couple of weeks. So far Tic and I have prepared food. The next meal may be Guapo or Matthew. We'll see.

McSweeney's

2004-08-04T08:07:00.000-04:00

Early this summer I sent a review to McSweeney's new food review section. It finally got published. They've titled it "Grapples (a reprise)," as it was not the only Grapple review on there. Clearly, we can see which is the better of the two.

Plums

2004-08-03T23:37:00.000-04:00

These plums from Good Earth aren't the most flavorful I've had, but they sure looked pretty. I guess that counts for something. The red plums have been pretty good lately, actually ripe when I get them from the store. I was eating a pluot the other day, and it occured to me that, while it did taste good, it didn't really taste natural. I guess there's a good reason for that. I've always liked the pluots, or "dinosaur egg plums," but it sort of occured to me that it didn't really taste like any sort of real fruit. Oh well.

I was under the impression that dinosaur egg plums were the same as elephant heart plums, but this article on slowfood.com says otherwise. Thank you slow food. As you may have noticed, there is now a link for Slow Food to your right.

I've seen a few other varieties of plums in the store lately. They've had names like "fruit punch" or "flavor explosion" or something like that. I tried the fruit punch a while ago. It just tasted like a red plum. Just some marketing I guess.

Dinner at Alameda

2004-08-01T23:53:00.000-04:00

So this was supposed to be a potluck. Really it was just Tik cooking a four course Chinese meal and me bringing a cucumber salad. The dishes were stir fried cabbage with dried shrimp, scrambled eggs in a tomato sauce, cod in a soy ginger pine nut sauce, and ma po tofu. The latter was especially impressive to me, mainly because of the slow heat that a lot of Chinese food seems to have. I learned that one way to do this is to use dried chiles and also to cook them in more oil, as that results in a more delayed, back of the throat sort of heat. I wish I could describe the dishes better, but I wasn't there for the cooking. I merely sat down and ate. More later.

Putting the Mal in Tamales

2004-07-30T23:16:00.000-04:00

It's too bad. Those were good tamales. The first three at least. I won't be going back to that place.

Tamales and Sidral

2004-07-30T13:03:00.000-04:00

Having gotten out of work early today, I stopped at a tortilleria on West 9th St. in Bradenton. I've passed the place every day on my way back from the Herald, but never made it in. The place looks like a regular Mexican grocery: boxes of limes, papayas, fresh and dried chiles, as well as a refrigerator full of sodas in glass bottles. The store also had a glass case full of ornate-looking cakes, as well as trays of more ordinary looking breads and pastries. The only light in the store seemed to come from its front door and a large red heating lamp that beamed down on bundles of tamales and wrapped platters of roasted chickens. Sitting beside the plexiglass warmer was a young lady wrapping stacks of tortillas in sheets of wax paper. Only when I approached the counter to ask about the tamales did I notice a low window that connected the store to a kitchen. The tortillas were fed through this window on a rotating wire rack. The girl plucked them off the rack, stacked them and wrapped them. I grabbed a bottle of Sidral (apple soda) and asked for an order of the pork tamales. For just over five bucks I got half a dozen tamales and a soda. Not a bad lunch. I'll definitely go back for the tortillas, and maybe a roast chicken.