Alain Senderens is probably one of the greatest chefs that nobody has ever heard of.
Most of the modern clichés and techniques were invented by him. It's actually a tribute to his genius that they are so widespread that they have turned into clichés.
Just to mention two — the notion of "wine pairings" in restaurants, and the originally shocking pairing of lobster and vanilla.
The CC just happened to be in Paris a few days before M. Senderens passed away and he just happened to eat at a restaurant run by his most famous product, Alain Passard.
It isn't well known but L'Arpège was originally L'Archestrate. It's literally the space where the pupil learned from the master.
Note the names being rather classical. Arpeggio for the former, and Archestratus, the famous gastronome, for the latter.
Even the first syllable hasn't changed!
(And note that master and pupil share the same first name too.)
L'Arpège is deeply deeply based in French gastronomy at a level that no restaurant in New York ever will be or ever can be.
New York is too much of its own device. The whole world's cultures clash and rub against each other here generating furious sparks of electric energy and it's impossible for chefs not to be influenced by it. The offerings in a truly great restaurant reflect that unease and friction, and the sheer joie de vivre of new cultures and new ideas. Concepts could very well be incoherent but there's a furious sense of experimentation with ideas yet unexplored.
L'Arpège exists in a different space. It's inside a culture that understands itself, is entirely comfortable, and brings refinement to the palate. It may borrow from other cultures but its own sense of identity stands as rock-solid as the terroir.
Read a book of M. Senderens and you will understand in even a few pages that he may borrow ideas from Thailand, India or Japan, but at no point in time will the original French concept be subordinated. It will be integrated into the food grammar coherently.
Once you understand the difference, his genius just simply sits there in plain daylight.
Adieu, maestro, adieu.
Showing posts with label greek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label greek. Show all posts
Saturday, July 22, 2017
Sunday, June 8, 2014
On Never Joking in New York
A few months ago the CC went out with a Greek friend for lunch. The restaurant was by a fancy Greek chef and the CC started joking that the chef's cook book opens with cooking a whole lamb.
He remarked, "When am I going to roast a whole lamb in my apartment?"
The friend misunderstood the jest, "Let me know when you want to do it. I own a spit and can order you the fresh lamb."
He remarked, "When am I going to roast a whole lamb in my apartment?"
The friend misunderstood the jest, "Let me know when you want to do it. I own a spit and can order you the fresh lamb."
Friday, February 14, 2014
Tarhana aka Trahana
If Britain and America are two countries separated by a common language as George Bernard Shaw so memorably put it, then Greece and Turkey are two countries separated by a common cuisine.
Oh the horrors and the wars! And Cyprus. Let's not even go there.
The difference in most of their common food names is "nationalistic branding". Something that you see in many adjacent "warring" countries which share a common cuisine. The choices are both boring and endless — India and Pakistan; Israel and Palestine; Eritrea and Ethiopia.
It gets depressing after a while.
The CC definitely belongs to the distinct minority of "Make food not war!" but it's a hard, not to mention, impossible sell to fanatics with no education and millennia of hatred.
But we will always have linguistic adjacency to remind us that you can theoretically separate ideas but, in practice, the same ol', same ol' geography dominates as it logically should.
Which brings us to tarhana or trahana. Pick your favorite one. The former being Turkish and the latter being Greek.
Tarhana, Trahana, let's call the whole thing off!
What is it?
It's an ancient mechanism of preserving both wheat and milk for the long winters. In an age of refrigeration and air-transported food, this is a fairly quaint notion so we appeal instead to its deliciousness.
The idea is simple. Take wheat flour, mix it with sour yogurt, pass the dough through a fine screen so it breaks up into tiny pieces and let it dry in the abundant Mediterranean sun.
The chemistry is complex. By introducing sour yogurt, you are lowering the pH to acidic levels. By drying it, you are reducing the moisture levels. This makes the environment inhospitable to most pathogens and you still preserving the wheat and milk proteins.
You cook it by just introducing it to some broth. The wheat thickens the broth and acidity introduced gives it a tangy umami flavor.
There is a separate product called "sweet trahana" which is the same idea except with milk rather than yogurt. It lacks the lactic tang and is much harder because of the need to remove moisture even further and so needs to cook a little longer.
The presence of both wheat flour and yogurt means it acts as a thickener typically in soups and stews.
You can pretty much thicken any soup which could use a sour lactic tang. Tomato soup is a classic. Less commonly is a mushroom soup referenced by Diane Kochilas presented below for your delectation.
The CC was informed that this was a "superior" mushroom-barley soup.
"Fair enough, it's the same concept just with superior food technology."
The mushrooms came from a Japanese market with some others brought by a Russian friend from the Russian markets all to make a Greek soup. Not exactly world peace and arguably closer to whirled peas but it's a step.
All raise your hands and shout out, Trahanosoupa me Manitaria!
Ingredients
4 cups mixed wild mushrooms (coarsely chopped)
2 garlic cloves (minced)
2 medium onions (sliced thin)
olive oil
1 cup trahana
6 cups water
salt
black pepper
lemon juice
1/3 cup grated kefalo-graviera cheese (substitute by feta)
Recipe
Heat the olive oil and sautée the garlic for a minute. Make sure it doesn't burn. Add the onions and cook over medium heat until wilted for about 7 minutes. Add the mushrooms and cook leisurely till for at least 10 minutes.
Add the trahana and stir for several minutes. Add the water and bring to a boil. Simmer for 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Serve hot with lemon juice and the cheese as topping.
Oh the horrors and the wars! And Cyprus. Let's not even go there.
The difference in most of their common food names is "nationalistic branding". Something that you see in many adjacent "warring" countries which share a common cuisine. The choices are both boring and endless — India and Pakistan; Israel and Palestine; Eritrea and Ethiopia.
It gets depressing after a while.
The CC definitely belongs to the distinct minority of "Make food not war!" but it's a hard, not to mention, impossible sell to fanatics with no education and millennia of hatred.
But we will always have linguistic adjacency to remind us that you can theoretically separate ideas but, in practice, the same ol', same ol' geography dominates as it logically should.
Which brings us to tarhana or trahana. Pick your favorite one. The former being Turkish and the latter being Greek.
Tarhana, Trahana, let's call the whole thing off!
What is it?
It's an ancient mechanism of preserving both wheat and milk for the long winters. In an age of refrigeration and air-transported food, this is a fairly quaint notion so we appeal instead to its deliciousness.
The idea is simple. Take wheat flour, mix it with sour yogurt, pass the dough through a fine screen so it breaks up into tiny pieces and let it dry in the abundant Mediterranean sun.
The chemistry is complex. By introducing sour yogurt, you are lowering the pH to acidic levels. By drying it, you are reducing the moisture levels. This makes the environment inhospitable to most pathogens and you still preserving the wheat and milk proteins.
You cook it by just introducing it to some broth. The wheat thickens the broth and acidity introduced gives it a tangy umami flavor.
There is a separate product called "sweet trahana" which is the same idea except with milk rather than yogurt. It lacks the lactic tang and is much harder because of the need to remove moisture even further and so needs to cook a little longer.
The presence of both wheat flour and yogurt means it acts as a thickener typically in soups and stews.
You can pretty much thicken any soup which could use a sour lactic tang. Tomato soup is a classic. Less commonly is a mushroom soup referenced by Diane Kochilas presented below for your delectation.
The CC was informed that this was a "superior" mushroom-barley soup.
"Fair enough, it's the same concept just with superior food technology."
The mushrooms came from a Japanese market with some others brought by a Russian friend from the Russian markets all to make a Greek soup. Not exactly world peace and arguably closer to whirled peas but it's a step.
All raise your hands and shout out, Trahanosoupa me Manitaria!
Ingredients
4 cups mixed wild mushrooms (coarsely chopped)
2 garlic cloves (minced)
2 medium onions (sliced thin)
olive oil
1 cup trahana
6 cups water
salt
black pepper
lemon juice
1/3 cup grated kefalo-graviera cheese (substitute by feta)
Recipe
Heat the olive oil and sautée the garlic for a minute. Make sure it doesn't burn. Add the onions and cook over medium heat until wilted for about 7 minutes. Add the mushrooms and cook leisurely till for at least 10 minutes.
Add the trahana and stir for several minutes. Add the water and bring to a boil. Simmer for 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Serve hot with lemon juice and the cheese as topping.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Fusion
The CC has never been against fusion. How could he?
We are nothing but the sum total of all our influences and that is true about all cuisines.
Indian food, both classically and modern, is an outgrowth of Persian cooking and New World foods. Japanese curry owes itself to British traders and an American commodore. New Orleans cuisine is based on French and African models with innovations (shrimp!) pushed by Filipino workers. Brazilian food grows out of Portuguese and African models and is reinforced by the importation of Japanese agricultural workers — the largest Japanese-speaking population outside of Japan.
Spanish cooking is based on Arabic models. In fact, most of the words for food substances have Arabic origins — aceituna (olive), azafran (saffron), naranja (orange). The word "lemon" comes from the Spanish limón which in turn comes from the Arabic laymoon which in turns come from the Chinese limung (modern-day Chinese: níngméng - 柠檬.)
Chinese food owes itself to Persian models with the extraordinarily heavy influence of Buddhism from India. Japanese food is an import of classical Chinese models. Even the language is an import of Chinese (kanji) and Indian phonetic models (Sanskrit - hiragana and katakana.)
Americans brought beef to Japan and its influence owes itself to the British Empire which in turn owes itself, ironically, to classical Persian models. The idea that meat was the food of the "rulers" not the "ruled" is based in ancient Persian hierarchical ideas about cuisine.
In the native Americas, Mexican cooking was heavily influenced by the Spanish invasion. Filipino food is based on Spanish and Mexican food because it was administered by Spain through Mexico.
If one wants to look at the truly ur-models then it would be the Babylonian and after that Persian models (wheat, barley) because that's where the crux of all political organization (and hence cooking) began.
So whither authenticity?
All food is ultimately fusion. It just matters how far you go back and look.
That's because humans have been trading with each other for millennia and good ideas have a way of germinating in other places and great ideas spread fast.
The traders were the original internet.
The Chinese traders taught the Indians how to steam circa the 10th century. The British brought curry powder to the Japanese and the French. The French brought classical technique to Haiti and New Orleans.
So anytime someone complains about "fusion", the CC just goes "Huh?!? What are you smokin'?"
For the record, even marijuana has Persian origins. Quelle surprise?
We are nothing but the sum total of all our influences and that is true about all cuisines.
Indian food, both classically and modern, is an outgrowth of Persian cooking and New World foods. Japanese curry owes itself to British traders and an American commodore. New Orleans cuisine is based on French and African models with innovations (shrimp!) pushed by Filipino workers. Brazilian food grows out of Portuguese and African models and is reinforced by the importation of Japanese agricultural workers — the largest Japanese-speaking population outside of Japan.
Spanish cooking is based on Arabic models. In fact, most of the words for food substances have Arabic origins — aceituna (olive), azafran (saffron), naranja (orange). The word "lemon" comes from the Spanish limón which in turn comes from the Arabic laymoon which in turns come from the Chinese limung (modern-day Chinese: níngméng - 柠檬.)
Chinese food owes itself to Persian models with the extraordinarily heavy influence of Buddhism from India. Japanese food is an import of classical Chinese models. Even the language is an import of Chinese (kanji) and Indian phonetic models (Sanskrit - hiragana and katakana.)
Americans brought beef to Japan and its influence owes itself to the British Empire which in turn owes itself, ironically, to classical Persian models. The idea that meat was the food of the "rulers" not the "ruled" is based in ancient Persian hierarchical ideas about cuisine.
In the native Americas, Mexican cooking was heavily influenced by the Spanish invasion. Filipino food is based on Spanish and Mexican food because it was administered by Spain through Mexico.
Ancient Greek and Egyptian cuisine grows out of Persian models and even ancient Roman cooking is unambiguously based on Greek and Egyptian models (thanks Cleopatra!)
The CC can go on forever.
The CC can go on forever.
If one wants to look at the truly ur-models then it would be the Babylonian and after that Persian models (wheat, barley) because that's where the crux of all political organization (and hence cooking) began.
So whither authenticity?
All food is ultimately fusion. It just matters how far you go back and look.
That's because humans have been trading with each other for millennia and good ideas have a way of germinating in other places and great ideas spread fast.
The traders were the original internet.
The Chinese traders taught the Indians how to steam circa the 10th century. The British brought curry powder to the Japanese and the French. The French brought classical technique to Haiti and New Orleans.
So anytime someone complains about "fusion", the CC just goes "Huh?!? What are you smokin'?"
For the record, even marijuana has Persian origins. Quelle surprise?
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Hellas! Tragœdia
It would be quite hard to see the effect of the Greek collapse (and resulting Depression) in the canyons of Wall St. but it can easily be seen in the Greek stores in Astoria.
There is a wonderful store called Titan Foods. It's one of the largest Greek supermarkets in New York.
The collapse of the Greek economy has taken out a large portion of their supply chain. The CC having gone to this store for more than ten years can easily see the impact that it is having on the market.
Normally, the store would be groaning under the weight of all kinds of Greek goodies but you can see the strain.
Still the CC came back with some anchovies packed in salt, spanakopita, karidopita (walnut cake), taramosalata, yogurt, sheep-milk feta, and other assorted ingredients.
There is a wonderful store called Titan Foods. It's one of the largest Greek supermarkets in New York.
The collapse of the Greek economy has taken out a large portion of their supply chain. The CC having gone to this store for more than ten years can easily see the impact that it is having on the market.
Normally, the store would be groaning under the weight of all kinds of Greek goodies but you can see the strain.
Still the CC came back with some anchovies packed in salt, spanakopita, karidopita (walnut cake), taramosalata, yogurt, sheep-milk feta, and other assorted ingredients.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Food Storm
Apparently, we're stormed in.
However, the CC had two food shopping trips organized on Friday and Saturday. Long before he had heard of this pesky little problem that seems to be imminent.
Friday consisted of some wonderful shopping at the Indian and Korean markets in Jackson Heights.
Saturday consisted of some wonderful shopping at the Greek markets in Astoria.
The latter was followed up by some wonderful Japanese ramen in Astoria. (Those Japanese hipsters! They can't quite resist those cheap rents, can they?)
This (storm) too shall pass.
However, the CC had two food shopping trips organized on Friday and Saturday. Long before he had heard of this pesky little problem that seems to be imminent.
Friday consisted of some wonderful shopping at the Indian and Korean markets in Jackson Heights.
Saturday consisted of some wonderful shopping at the Greek markets in Astoria.
The latter was followed up by some wonderful Japanese ramen in Astoria. (Those Japanese hipsters! They can't quite resist those cheap rents, can they?)
This (storm) too shall pass.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Tomato Risotto with Oregano, Fennel & Feta
This recipe was originally by Diane Kochilas — a Greek adaptation of the Italian risotto — and it had the risotto cooked in Ouzo. (Can you hear the howls from Italy already?)
Anise tends to have an overpowering smell (at least to the CC) so he toned it down by using fresh fennel instead of Ouzo or Pernod.
Incidentally, fresh fennel is still plenty potent.
The feta does add a wonderfully creamy element, and the recipe tends towards the richer side because of the overpowering smell from the fennel and umami from the summer tomatoes.
Ingredients
8 ripe tomatoes
1 bulb fennel (finely chopped)
1 shallot (finely minced)
4 cloves garlic (finely minced)
2 cups carnaroli rice
4 cups broth.
2 tbsp fresh oregano (chopped)
1 tbsp lemon zest (optional)
olive oil
salt
black pepper
2/3 cup feta
Recipe
The original recipe has the tomatoes grated over a box grater but with summer tomatoes, it was easy enough to just pass them through a food mill.
Sautée the shallots, fennel and garlic in olive oil. Keep the broth on a simmer in a separate vessel near by.
Add the rice and fry making sure that each rice grain is covered in the oil.
Add the broth and the tomatoes alternately. Keep stirring the risotto until it absorbs all the broth. Make sure it's not over cooked. It should still have a bite (al dente) and the mixture should just be slightly on the wet side.
Stir in the feta, oregano and lemon zest at the end right before serving.
Anise tends to have an overpowering smell (at least to the CC) so he toned it down by using fresh fennel instead of Ouzo or Pernod.
Incidentally, fresh fennel is still plenty potent.
The feta does add a wonderfully creamy element, and the recipe tends towards the richer side because of the overpowering smell from the fennel and umami from the summer tomatoes.
Ingredients
8 ripe tomatoes
1 bulb fennel (finely chopped)
1 shallot (finely minced)
4 cloves garlic (finely minced)
2 cups carnaroli rice
4 cups broth.
2 tbsp fresh oregano (chopped)
1 tbsp lemon zest (optional)
olive oil
salt
black pepper
2/3 cup feta
Recipe
The original recipe has the tomatoes grated over a box grater but with summer tomatoes, it was easy enough to just pass them through a food mill.
Sautée the shallots, fennel and garlic in olive oil. Keep the broth on a simmer in a separate vessel near by.
Add the rice and fry making sure that each rice grain is covered in the oil.
Add the broth and the tomatoes alternately. Keep stirring the risotto until it absorbs all the broth. Make sure it's not over cooked. It should still have a bite (al dente) and the mixture should just be slightly on the wet side.
Stir in the feta, oregano and lemon zest at the end right before serving.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
The Triumphant Return
The CC is back! Or at least the CC's computer is back from the dead.
Shopping trip in Astoria today.
Spanakopita, feta, salted anchovies, anchovies with capers, seafood salad, tarasamolata, baklava.
Happiness is a great grocery store!
Shopping trip in Astoria today.
Spanakopita, feta, salted anchovies, anchovies with capers, seafood salad, tarasamolata, baklava.
Happiness is a great grocery store!
Monday, April 2, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Haul (from Astoria)
Anchovies, octopus, Greek chickpeas, the large white beans, bulgur wheat (of two grades), spanakopita, dried oregano, taramosalata, tzatziki, amazing pita bread.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Pasta with Asparagus, Lemon and Oregano
This is an wonderful spring dish that sounds like a repeat of the former and guess what?
It is!
Doesn't mean it's not equally brilliant though!
Ingredients
2 cups penne
1 bunch asparagus
1 lemon
dried Greek oregano
parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
sea salt
Recipe
Cut the delicate tops of the asparagus and set aside. Quickly strip the woody bits with a knife. Cut at a steep diagonal angle into thin spears, and set aside separately.
With a peeler, zest the lemon and keep the strips. Dice finely. Set the lemon aside.
Bring the heavily-salted pasta water to a boil. Cook the pasta until al dente.
Meanwhile, heat some olive oil in a pan. Fry the asparagus strips at a low heat until they are well-done (roughly 6-7 mins.) Toss in the spears for about a minute and add the lemon zest, and the oregano. Toss in 1/2 cup of the pasta water.
Toss in the pasta when done. Squeeze the leftover lemon all over it, and toss. Serve with lots of black pepper and parmesan on top.
It is!
Doesn't mean it's not equally brilliant though!
Ingredients
2 cups penne
1 bunch asparagus
1 lemon
dried Greek oregano
parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
sea salt
Recipe
Cut the delicate tops of the asparagus and set aside. Quickly strip the woody bits with a knife. Cut at a steep diagonal angle into thin spears, and set aside separately.
With a peeler, zest the lemon and keep the strips. Dice finely. Set the lemon aside.
Bring the heavily-salted pasta water to a boil. Cook the pasta until al dente.
Meanwhile, heat some olive oil in a pan. Fry the asparagus strips at a low heat until they are well-done (roughly 6-7 mins.) Toss in the spears for about a minute and add the lemon zest, and the oregano. Toss in 1/2 cup of the pasta water.
Toss in the pasta when done. Squeeze the leftover lemon all over it, and toss. Serve with lots of black pepper and parmesan on top.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
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Monday, September 17, 2007
Dips, Raitas, and other assorted goodies
Virtually every country that consumes milk has some variations on this theme.
The CC had a lot of leftover yogurt (don't ask!), and some assorted stuff (cucumbers, carrots, mint, curry leaves) in his refrigerator. His thoughts turned to how to consume most of it efficiently, but also leave it in a form that could be easily stored for later consumption.
Inspiration struck, and out came the thought of making a bunch of yogurt-based foods.
There are more recipes here than humans. Writing a book on these would be the ultimate waste of time. Who'd read all these basic variations on the same theme?
Tzatziki
Ingredients
1 english cucumber (grated)
2 cloves garlic (minced fine)
mint (chopped into ribbons)
strained yogurt
salt and pepper
Recipe
Mix everything, and let it sit for an hour.
South-Indian Carrot Raita
Ingredients
carrots (grated)
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tbsp urad
5-7 curry leaves
strained yogurt
salt
Recipe
Heat a tiny amount of oil in a pan. Toss in the mustard seeds. When they splutter, toss in the urad. When they turn light brown, toss in the curry leaves. Add the carrots and sautee for about a minute. Let it cool.
Mix everything together, and let it sit for at least an hour.
The CC had a lot of leftover yogurt (don't ask!), and some assorted stuff (cucumbers, carrots, mint, curry leaves) in his refrigerator. His thoughts turned to how to consume most of it efficiently, but also leave it in a form that could be easily stored for later consumption.
Inspiration struck, and out came the thought of making a bunch of yogurt-based foods.
There are more recipes here than humans. Writing a book on these would be the ultimate waste of time. Who'd read all these basic variations on the same theme?
Tzatziki
Ingredients
1 english cucumber (grated)
2 cloves garlic (minced fine)
mint (chopped into ribbons)
strained yogurt
salt and pepper
Recipe
Mix everything, and let it sit for an hour.
South-Indian Carrot Raita
Ingredients
carrots (grated)
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tbsp urad
5-7 curry leaves
strained yogurt
salt
Recipe
Heat a tiny amount of oil in a pan. Toss in the mustard seeds. When they splutter, toss in the urad. When they turn light brown, toss in the curry leaves. Add the carrots and sautee for about a minute. Let it cool.
Mix everything together, and let it sit for at least an hour.
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