When you're faced with a recipe that has an unknown quantity of various spices, here's the CC's meta-interpretation of the recipe:
Add a lot of the spices you like; a "reasonable" amount of what you're neutral to; and very little of what you don't.
Not exactly Julia Child but the CC has never gone wrong with it.
Happy Holidays!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Sunday, December 3, 2006
The "No-Knead" Bread : An Update
So the CC has been making this bread on a fairly regular basis, and has a few comments to share.
Firstly, this bread is very forgiving in terms of quantities, timings, etc. Traditionally, baking is not known for being forgiving. It's the perfect sport for the "anal-retentive control-freak" types (except that "rises" are outside their control so they make up for it by trying to control everything else.)
If you've never handled truly slack dough before, I still urge you to try this one out. The results are so consistently spectacular that it's hard to believe. Even my failures are really good, and the CC is getting very used to even slacker dough than this recipe. (Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the CC is still learning on the job.)
If you've never made bread before, please realize that the "cooling down" is part of the process, and it may not be hurried. The bread is still "baking" on the rack as it cools down. In fact, if you've made the bread well, you should hear wonderful crackling sounds (that can be quite loud) while the bread cools down.
The CC is aware that the temptation of cutting it too soon is always going to be with us, but patience pays off.
Happy baking!
Firstly, this bread is very forgiving in terms of quantities, timings, etc. Traditionally, baking is not known for being forgiving. It's the perfect sport for the "anal-retentive control-freak" types (except that "rises" are outside their control so they make up for it by trying to control everything else.)
If you've never handled truly slack dough before, I still urge you to try this one out. The results are so consistently spectacular that it's hard to believe. Even my failures are really good, and the CC is getting very used to even slacker dough than this recipe. (Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the CC is still learning on the job.)
If you've never made bread before, please realize that the "cooling down" is part of the process, and it may not be hurried. The bread is still "baking" on the rack as it cools down. In fact, if you've made the bread well, you should hear wonderful crackling sounds (that can be quite loud) while the bread cools down.
The CC is aware that the temptation of cutting it too soon is always going to be with us, but patience pays off.
Happy baking!
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Thanksgiving Traditions
Well, turkey is conventional but we all have our own little traditions.
The CC always features pomegranates at his Thanksgiving dinner.
How did it start? Many a moon ago, the CC's friends and the CC decided that they liked pomegranates better than cranberries, and so it began.
The CC tries to vary it up each year, featuring it in totally different ways, everything from pomegranate juice and champagne to dessert made with pomegranates.
One year, the CC was being helped by a "cooking virgin". Needless to say, the CC could hardly resist handing him the task of plucking the pomegranate seeds.
The poor boy plucked out each seed one by one not knowing how to pluck a pomegranate. After half an hour, the CC showed him how to invert the peel, and brush off the seeds. His jaw dropped, some choice words were bandied about the CC's heritage, he hastily retreated in a sulky mood to the boudoir, beer in hand, and proceeded to yell at the television until the rest of the guests arrived.
Whee! What fun we have together!
So readers, what are your traditions for Thanksgiving?
The CC always features pomegranates at his Thanksgiving dinner.
How did it start? Many a moon ago, the CC's friends and the CC decided that they liked pomegranates better than cranberries, and so it began.
The CC tries to vary it up each year, featuring it in totally different ways, everything from pomegranate juice and champagne to dessert made with pomegranates.
One year, the CC was being helped by a "cooking virgin". Needless to say, the CC could hardly resist handing him the task of plucking the pomegranate seeds.
The poor boy plucked out each seed one by one not knowing how to pluck a pomegranate. After half an hour, the CC showed him how to invert the peel, and brush off the seeds. His jaw dropped, some choice words were bandied about the CC's heritage, he hastily retreated in a sulky mood to the boudoir, beer in hand, and proceeded to yell at the television until the rest of the guests arrived.
Whee! What fun we have together!
So readers, what are your traditions for Thanksgiving?
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
No-Knead Bread (from the NYT)
The CC is not in the habit of other people's recipes verbatim, but this thing is so fucking amazing that you might as well blow out the CC's brains with a 2x4.
The internet forums have been buzzing about this for the last week or so. You might've thought that Elvis was making a reappearance or something from the buzz that this thing got.
Warning: this dough is absurdly slack (roughly 72% baker's hydration,) so you need a little bit of experience working with this kinda dough. However, this recipe is so fool-proof (rare in the bread world!) that you can hardly go wrong.
You will need a "baker scraper" which is a steel thing with a super blunt edge so that you can scrape the dough off a flat surface.
This bread is absolutely amazing. Here are some pictures of the CC's effort.
November 8, 2006 New York Times
Recipe: No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Jim Lahey, Sullivan Street Bakery
Time: About 1 1/2 hours plus 14 to 20 hours' rising
3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran as needed.
1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 1/2 cups water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.
2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.
3. Using just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to work surface or to your fingers, gently and quickly shape dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal; put dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.
4. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up; it may look like a mess, but that is O.K. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack.
Yield: One 1 1/2-pound loaf.
The internet forums have been buzzing about this for the last week or so. You might've thought that Elvis was making a reappearance or something from the buzz that this thing got.
Warning: this dough is absurdly slack (roughly 72% baker's hydration,) so you need a little bit of experience working with this kinda dough. However, this recipe is so fool-proof (rare in the bread world!) that you can hardly go wrong.
You will need a "baker scraper" which is a steel thing with a super blunt edge so that you can scrape the dough off a flat surface.
This bread is absolutely amazing. Here are some pictures of the CC's effort.
November 8, 2006 New York Times
Recipe: No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Jim Lahey, Sullivan Street Bakery
Time: About 1 1/2 hours plus 14 to 20 hours' rising
3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran as needed.
1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 1/2 cups water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.
2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.
3. Using just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to work surface or to your fingers, gently and quickly shape dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal; put dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.
4. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up; it may look like a mess, but that is O.K. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack.
Yield: One 1 1/2-pound loaf.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Cauliflowers : Part 1
Can you say fractal and Fibonacci series?
This amazing beauty is a Romanesco cauliflower.
The CC found it at his local farmers' market.
The CC is just about ecstatic at the wondrous combination of his two loves, food and mathematics!
Monday, November 13, 2006
"Lemon" Rice
The "lemon" in the recipe actually refers to "lime" as the CC has discussed in the Hindenburg of culinary disasters!.
This is a basic everyday kinda recipe from the South of India, and like basic everyday kinda recipes, you have to make it just so, otherwise you'll be left wondering what the fuss was all about.
Made right, this is the ultimate comfort food.
Theoretically speaking, this is no different from a risotto except with different flavoring, and the rice is slightly firmer, and less "wet".
The CC will grant that the ingredients "seem" a bit a exotic. They're not exotic in India (duh!) nor are they particularly exotic in any city that the CC has lived in or visited (which means both coasts, and Chicago.)
In fact, minus one ingredient, they are downright pedestrian.
This must be served with yogurt. Good yogurt, the Greek kind, not the pasteurized garbage that passes for food in this country.
Guess what the CC is eating for dinner tonight!
Ingredients
6-8 curry leaves (this is the exotic one! try dried if you can't get fresh)
1 tbsp mustard seeds
2 tbsp "urad" daal (lentils, easy to get at your local Indian store.)
1 medium red onion, diced (optional)
3-5 serranos (cut into very fine rounds)
1/4 cup peanuts
1 cup basmati rice (no other will do!)
1/4 tsp turmeric
juice of 4 limes
salt
Recipe
Fry some oil, and add the mustard. Cover, and wait till the mustard "pops". Add the urad, fry for a bit, add the onion, fry for a bit (till pale), add the serranos, fry for a bit, add the curry leaves, fry for a bit, add the peanuts, fry for a bit, add the rice, fry till the rice is coated with the oil.
Add the turmeric and salt, and roughly 1.5 cups of water. Turn to a low simmer, and let it cook uncovered till the rice is nearly cooked. Add the lime juice towards the end.
Serve hot with yogurt!
This is a basic everyday kinda recipe from the South of India, and like basic everyday kinda recipes, you have to make it just so, otherwise you'll be left wondering what the fuss was all about.
Made right, this is the ultimate comfort food.
Theoretically speaking, this is no different from a risotto except with different flavoring, and the rice is slightly firmer, and less "wet".
The CC will grant that the ingredients "seem" a bit a exotic. They're not exotic in India (duh!) nor are they particularly exotic in any city that the CC has lived in or visited (which means both coasts, and Chicago.)
In fact, minus one ingredient, they are downright pedestrian.
This must be served with yogurt. Good yogurt, the Greek kind, not the pasteurized garbage that passes for food in this country.
Guess what the CC is eating for dinner tonight!
Ingredients
6-8 curry leaves (this is the exotic one! try dried if you can't get fresh)
1 tbsp mustard seeds
2 tbsp "urad" daal (lentils, easy to get at your local Indian store.)
1 medium red onion, diced (optional)
3-5 serranos (cut into very fine rounds)
1/4 cup peanuts
1 cup basmati rice (no other will do!)
1/4 tsp turmeric
juice of 4 limes
salt
Recipe
Fry some oil, and add the mustard. Cover, and wait till the mustard "pops". Add the urad, fry for a bit, add the onion, fry for a bit (till pale), add the serranos, fry for a bit, add the curry leaves, fry for a bit, add the peanuts, fry for a bit, add the rice, fry till the rice is coated with the oil.
Add the turmeric and salt, and roughly 1.5 cups of water. Turn to a low simmer, and let it cook uncovered till the rice is nearly cooked. Add the lime juice towards the end.
Serve hot with yogurt!
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Harlem Renaissance
Who would've guessed, say a few years ago, that Harlem would turn into a foodie powerhouse?
In hindsight (always a dangerous game,) it's not unreasonable.
Over the last few weeks, I've been to two amazing places in Harlem, one Haitian, and the other Ethiopian. There's also the French-Senegalese place that I can't sing enough praises of (and which the CC has dragged people to over their objections -- you know exactly who you are, and you were wrong, and the CC was right, and that's all that counts in the end!)
Think of this blog entry as a "teaser trailer". Call me if you actually want to go to these places.
You know you want it!
In hindsight (always a dangerous game,) it's not unreasonable.
Over the last few weeks, I've been to two amazing places in Harlem, one Haitian, and the other Ethiopian. There's also the French-Senegalese place that I can't sing enough praises of (and which the CC has dragged people to over their objections -- you know exactly who you are, and you were wrong, and the CC was right, and that's all that counts in the end!)
Think of this blog entry as a "teaser trailer". Call me if you actually want to go to these places.
You know you want it!
Friday, November 10, 2006
Controversial Recipes
Who knew that this bipartisan blog would draw controversy?
The recipe that seems to have generated much finger-waving, and hand-pointing is the recent recipe for Chocolate-covered garlic.
Comments (all private!) have ranged from, "Really?" to "I don't believe you!".
Thankfully, nobody so far has run a campaign to trash the CC's character on televison.
So let's understand why this recipe works from a scientific point of view. Out comes Harold McGee's tome, On Food and Cooking, which the CC will note is both exhaustive and exhausting.
Like the sunchoke family and its relatives, the onion family accumulates energy stores not in starch, but in chains of fructose sugars, which long, slow cooking breaks down to produce a marked sweetness.
Incidentally, these fructose sugars are not directly digestible by humans explaining the "gas" produced when eating raw onions, garlic, shallots, etc. Both the sulphurous content, and the indigestibility are Darwinian "defense mechanisms" against mammals eating the food store. (Hence also, the "sting" of sharp onions.)
But, we humans figured out a way.
Roasting garlic (and the whole onion family) is a time-honored way of changing its aggressive sulphurous character into a much sweeter one. In this particular case, the recipe is really braising (along with a ton of sugar) which will turn the garlic both soft and sweet while eliminating the volatile sulphurous molecules that make it "garlicky".
Hopefully, this intellectual argument will detract some of the objectors, but really, the best way is to just experience it first-hand!
The recipe that seems to have generated much finger-waving, and hand-pointing is the recent recipe for Chocolate-covered garlic.
Comments (all private!) have ranged from, "Really?" to "I don't believe you!".
Thankfully, nobody so far has run a campaign to trash the CC's character on televison.
So let's understand why this recipe works from a scientific point of view. Out comes Harold McGee's tome, On Food and Cooking, which the CC will note is both exhaustive and exhausting.
Like the sunchoke family and its relatives, the onion family accumulates energy stores not in starch, but in chains of fructose sugars, which long, slow cooking breaks down to produce a marked sweetness.
Incidentally, these fructose sugars are not directly digestible by humans explaining the "gas" produced when eating raw onions, garlic, shallots, etc. Both the sulphurous content, and the indigestibility are Darwinian "defense mechanisms" against mammals eating the food store. (Hence also, the "sting" of sharp onions.)
But, we humans figured out a way.
Roasting garlic (and the whole onion family) is a time-honored way of changing its aggressive sulphurous character into a much sweeter one. In this particular case, the recipe is really braising (along with a ton of sugar) which will turn the garlic both soft and sweet while eliminating the volatile sulphurous molecules that make it "garlicky".
Hopefully, this intellectual argument will detract some of the objectors, but really, the best way is to just experience it first-hand!
Tuesday, November 7, 2006
Simple French Food
One of the words in the title of Richard Olney's book is like a time-release bomb waiting to go off.
The CC will not be providing hints as to which one.
After a six page discussion on the definition of "simplicity" (uh oh!), we are informed that "simplicity is a complicated thing", and that "If food is not good, it is not simple."
By this definition, everything from a hard-boiled egg to beef bourgignon is "simple" but only if it is "good".
The CC is not making this up, you know!
However, this is a wonderful book which everyone should have. It is simply too brilliant for words.
He does give a great way of poaching eggs perfectly each time - boil water, turn off heat, crack an egg, cover, leave it alone, repeat for more.
Now, that is in the ordinary sense of the word, simple.
The purpose of this post is to warn the reader so that, unlike the CC, they will neither be scarred for life nor need therapy.
The CC will not be providing hints as to which one.
After a six page discussion on the definition of "simplicity" (uh oh!), we are informed that "simplicity is a complicated thing", and that "If food is not good, it is not simple."
By this definition, everything from a hard-boiled egg to beef bourgignon is "simple" but only if it is "good".
The CC is not making this up, you know!
However, this is a wonderful book which everyone should have. It is simply too brilliant for words.
He does give a great way of poaching eggs perfectly each time - boil water, turn off heat, crack an egg, cover, leave it alone, repeat for more.
Now, that is in the ordinary sense of the word, simple.
The purpose of this post is to warn the reader so that, unlike the CC, they will neither be scarred for life nor need therapy.
Monday, November 6, 2006
Chocolate-covered garlic
This recipe sounds downright stupid at first but it's actually really really good.
Ingredients
24 cloves of garlic (peeled)
1/2 cup red wine
1/4 cup sugar
4 tbsp lemon zest
1 bar "high" cacao chocolate
Recipe
Bring the first four ingredients to a boil. Cook on very low heat uncovered for 25-30 minutes (stirring occasionally.) Let it cool for a bit. The cloves should be quite sticky.
Melt the chocolate (you can either microwave at a low heat, or dip a glass bowl in boiling water.)
Dip each clove in the melted chocolate, and place them on a piece of foil. Transfer to the refrigerator and let it cool for at least an hour.
Best eaten fresh.
Ingredients
24 cloves of garlic (peeled)
1/2 cup red wine
1/4 cup sugar
4 tbsp lemon zest
1 bar "high" cacao chocolate
Recipe
Bring the first four ingredients to a boil. Cook on very low heat uncovered for 25-30 minutes (stirring occasionally.) Let it cool for a bit. The cloves should be quite sticky.
Melt the chocolate (you can either microwave at a low heat, or dip a glass bowl in boiling water.)
Dip each clove in the melted chocolate, and place them on a piece of foil. Transfer to the refrigerator and let it cool for at least an hour.
Best eaten fresh.
Sunday, November 5, 2006
Kalustyan's
It's the temple of food.
You readers in New York should already know it. If not, you might as well move to Kansas.
For the rest of you, name an exotic rice, spice, flour, or lentil, and this place has it. It's even alphabetized because there's no Dewey Decimal System or ISBN system for food (particularly when it comes from all around the globe.)
Regional conflicts need not apply!
However, the CC dreads going there because each time he goes there he ends up dropping more than he rationally should. Oh well! At least he and his friends eat well.
What's more they ship around the world. Give it a whirl!
You readers in New York should already know it. If not, you might as well move to Kansas.
For the rest of you, name an exotic rice, spice, flour, or lentil, and this place has it. It's even alphabetized because there's no Dewey Decimal System or ISBN system for food (particularly when it comes from all around the globe.)
Regional conflicts need not apply!
However, the CC dreads going there because each time he goes there he ends up dropping more than he rationally should. Oh well! At least he and his friends eat well.
What's more they ship around the world. Give it a whirl!
Raw Beef (Ethiopian style)
The way to judge an Ethiopian restaurant is how well they make kitfo which is raw ground beef mixed with mit' mita (finely ground "hot" spices), and nit' ir kibbeh (also spelt qibe which is clarified butter cooked with spices.)
Vegetarians, and food-phobes need not apply!
The first time the CC went to a restaurant that specialized in it, the staff came out twice to ask if we were sure of what we were getting.
"We are", cried the CC and his good friend.
Then the chef came out to make doubly sure that we knew of what we wanted. Not only were we not disappointed but we had a magnificent evening because the staff loved us for ordering their specialty.
Last night, the CC ate at a lovely place in South Harlem that had excellent kitfo. The waitress positively glowed when the CC praised the kitfo.
Try it! You may even get addicted to it. (Watch this space for a recipe.)
Vegetarians, and food-phobes need not apply!
The first time the CC went to a restaurant that specialized in it, the staff came out twice to ask if we were sure of what we were getting.
"We are", cried the CC and his good friend.
Then the chef came out to make doubly sure that we knew of what we wanted. Not only were we not disappointed but we had a magnificent evening because the staff loved us for ordering their specialty.
Last night, the CC ate at a lovely place in South Harlem that had excellent kitfo. The waitress positively glowed when the CC praised the kitfo.
Try it! You may even get addicted to it. (Watch this space for a recipe.)
Wednesday, November 1, 2006
The Role of Illusions
Every once in a while, we are called upon to make dishes with constraints in mind. This is truly the mark of a good chef.
Cooking is like magic. Sometimes you need to create an illusion.
The CC was called upon to make a classic French Onion Soup minus the beef.
"Impossible, you say?"
"Hard work," says the CC.
The CC made a traditional beef broth side by side with a mushroom broth more than a few times till even the most discerning audience could not tell the difference. In fact, he served it with impunity to an audience (who loved it,) and then revealed the truth.
The CC presents a mushroom broth quite specifically made for classic French Onion Soup (recipe to follow.)
Ingredients
1 large red onion (diced)
1 lb crimini mushrooms (quartered)
2 large portabella mushrooms (diced)
2 carrots (diced)
1/2 cup celery (diced)
3 bay leaves
1 sprig rosemary
10-12 peppercorns
salt to taste
olive oil
10-12 cups of water (approximate - just fill the pot.)
Recipe
Saute the onions in olive oil until pale pink/slightly brown. Add the peppercorns, and saute for a bit. Add the carrots and celery and saute for a bit till soft. Add the mushrooms, and saute for a bit. Add the cold water (it's important that it be cold.) and bring to a very low simmer.
Simmer for 70-90 minutes while skimming periodically.
Over a bowl, strain the broth from the vegetables using a sieve lined with several layers of a cheesecloth. Let the vegetables cool for a while. Take the cheesecloth and squeeze the vegetables to extract more of the juice into the bowl until no more comes out. Discard the pulp.
You may freeze this for a long time.
Cooking is like magic. Sometimes you need to create an illusion.
The CC was called upon to make a classic French Onion Soup minus the beef.
"Impossible, you say?"
"Hard work," says the CC.
The CC made a traditional beef broth side by side with a mushroom broth more than a few times till even the most discerning audience could not tell the difference. In fact, he served it with impunity to an audience (who loved it,) and then revealed the truth.
The CC presents a mushroom broth quite specifically made for classic French Onion Soup (recipe to follow.)
Ingredients
1 large red onion (diced)
1 lb crimini mushrooms (quartered)
2 large portabella mushrooms (diced)
2 carrots (diced)
1/2 cup celery (diced)
3 bay leaves
1 sprig rosemary
10-12 peppercorns
salt to taste
olive oil
10-12 cups of water (approximate - just fill the pot.)
Recipe
Saute the onions in olive oil until pale pink/slightly brown. Add the peppercorns, and saute for a bit. Add the carrots and celery and saute for a bit till soft. Add the mushrooms, and saute for a bit. Add the cold water (it's important that it be cold.) and bring to a very low simmer.
Simmer for 70-90 minutes while skimming periodically.
Over a bowl, strain the broth from the vegetables using a sieve lined with several layers of a cheesecloth. Let the vegetables cool for a while. Take the cheesecloth and squeeze the vegetables to extract more of the juice into the bowl until no more comes out. Discard the pulp.
You may freeze this for a long time.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Chestnuts
... roasting on an open fire!
A bit early, but what the heck? It's getting cold out here in New York.
Here's something to keep you warm...
Chestnut Soup
Ingredients
1 large onion (roughly chopped)
8 cloves garlic (roughly chopped)
2 celery stalks (roughly chopped)
1 large carrot (roughly chopped)
3-4 cups broth (homemade, but use commercial, you wimps!)
fresh sage
fresh rosemary
2 bay leaves
salt
fresh pepper (lots!)
30-35 chestnuts (read below why!)
Recipe
It's all going to get pureed so don't waste time cutting it in detail.
Incise the chestnuts with a large X. Roast at 375F for 15 minutes or so. The X will peel off, and you can pull them out, and deshell them. They need to be deshelled while they are still warm.
Some fraction will be moldy. Toss them. You won't be able to resist eating a few. So you will end up with roughly 24-26 which is the correct number for the recipe. See my point?
Fry the onion and garlic soffrito. Toss in the everything but the chestnuts, and fry for a minute or so. Toss in the broth. Let it simmer for 10 mins.
Toss in the chestnuts, and let it all simmer for 15 minutes.
Puree it, and serve with some crusty bread.
A bit early, but what the heck? It's getting cold out here in New York.
Here's something to keep you warm...
Chestnut Soup
Ingredients
1 large onion (roughly chopped)
8 cloves garlic (roughly chopped)
2 celery stalks (roughly chopped)
1 large carrot (roughly chopped)
3-4 cups broth (homemade, but use commercial, you wimps!)
fresh sage
fresh rosemary
2 bay leaves
salt
fresh pepper (lots!)
30-35 chestnuts (read below why!)
Recipe
It's all going to get pureed so don't waste time cutting it in detail.
Incise the chestnuts with a large X. Roast at 375F for 15 minutes or so. The X will peel off, and you can pull them out, and deshell them. They need to be deshelled while they are still warm.
Some fraction will be moldy. Toss them. You won't be able to resist eating a few. So you will end up with roughly 24-26 which is the correct number for the recipe. See my point?
Fry the onion and garlic soffrito. Toss in the everything but the chestnuts, and fry for a minute or so. Toss in the broth. Let it simmer for 10 mins.
Toss in the chestnuts, and let it all simmer for 15 minutes.
Puree it, and serve with some crusty bread.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Scaring up a meal
Every home cook has faced this problem before.
It's Sunday, you're too lazy to go shopping, you need a tasty but simple meal that you need to scare up before the evening is over but the larder is bare (or as bare as the CC's larder ever gets.)
What was at hand?
5 tomatoes (from the farmer's market.)
onions and garlic (staples at the CC's.)
the usual arsenal of dried ingredients and spices
the usual arsenal of frozen stock, and pastes in the freezer.
a quarter-chunk of parmigiano-reggiano (a miracle!)
All this inevitably pointed towards pasta, and out came Marcella Hazan. Jump to the section on tomato sauces, a little poking around, and what do you find?
Tomato Sauce with Porcini Mushrooms
A slight modification was made (no pancetta) but it was relatively insignificant.
Ingredients
1 small onion (finely diced)
1 tbsp olive oil
5 large tomatoes (skins removed, passed through food mill.)
1 oz dried porcini mushrooms (+ filtered water from mushrooms)
salt
black pepper
freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano
Recipe
Reconstitute the mushrooms.
Fry the onions (or shallots) till it becomes a pale gold. Add the tomatoes, the mushrooms, the strained liquid from the mushrooms, salt, and several grindings of pepper. Adjust heat so that the sauce bubbles at a gentle but steady simmer. Cook in the pan for 40 minutes (yes! this is correct) till the fat and the tomato separate. Skim.
Toss in the pasta, and serve with freshy grated parmigiano-reggiano.
Note: This sauce is surprisingly "rich" (not in the traditional high-fat sense.) It could easily pass as a meat sauce even though it's totally vegetarian.
Marcella Hazan has been beatified, while Julia Child can cry herself to sleep on the bookshelf!
It's Sunday, you're too lazy to go shopping, you need a tasty but simple meal that you need to scare up before the evening is over but the larder is bare (or as bare as the CC's larder ever gets.)
What was at hand?
5 tomatoes (from the farmer's market.)
onions and garlic (staples at the CC's.)
the usual arsenal of dried ingredients and spices
the usual arsenal of frozen stock, and pastes in the freezer.
a quarter-chunk of parmigiano-reggiano (a miracle!)
All this inevitably pointed towards pasta, and out came Marcella Hazan. Jump to the section on tomato sauces, a little poking around, and what do you find?
Tomato Sauce with Porcini Mushrooms
A slight modification was made (no pancetta) but it was relatively insignificant.
Ingredients
1 small onion (finely diced)
1 tbsp olive oil
5 large tomatoes (skins removed, passed through food mill.)
1 oz dried porcini mushrooms (+ filtered water from mushrooms)
salt
black pepper
freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano
Recipe
Reconstitute the mushrooms.
Fry the onions (or shallots) till it becomes a pale gold. Add the tomatoes, the mushrooms, the strained liquid from the mushrooms, salt, and several grindings of pepper. Adjust heat so that the sauce bubbles at a gentle but steady simmer. Cook in the pan for 40 minutes (yes! this is correct) till the fat and the tomato separate. Skim.
Toss in the pasta, and serve with freshy grated parmigiano-reggiano.
Note: This sauce is surprisingly "rich" (not in the traditional high-fat sense.) It could easily pass as a meat sauce even though it's totally vegetarian.
Marcella Hazan has been beatified, while Julia Child can cry herself to sleep on the bookshelf!
Kitchen Instruments
On my vacation, the CC was asked if he was a "gadget freak" by the sister of the mother of the wife of this dear friend of mine.
"Absolutely not!", cried the CC in alarm, at the risk of being classified along with the Williams-Sonoma freaks!
"In that case," she retorted, "tell me what kitchen instruments you find indispensable."
So the CC hied himself on a mental walk around his kitchen (we were greedily gorging some lamb (cooked deliciously rare) laced with rosemary, and spanakopita on their familial farmhouse at the time.)
Blender, and food-processor
Big duh there!
Coffee grinder
The CC actually uses it to grind fresh spices (both roasted, and unroasted.) Even Indians don't understand good Indian cooking until you have it made with freshly ground spices. (If the CC had to pick just one instrument, this would win hands down!)
Pressure Cooker
Everything from beans to conch!
Juicer
The CC never knew how much he would miss it until he had one. Juice of forty limes? Not a problem!
Food mill
Ditto! Where have you been all my life?
Cheese plane grater
You don't understand until you own one. Trust the CC on this one.
Mortar and pestle
The CC is "old school". Some things cannot be improved upon.
Sure the CC would miss the stones in the oven, and the pizza peel, or the steamers, and the zesters but they are not indispensable. The above constitute "basic necessity", at least in the eyes of the CC.
So, gentle readers, are there things you find indispensable?
"Absolutely not!", cried the CC in alarm, at the risk of being classified along with the Williams-Sonoma freaks!
"In that case," she retorted, "tell me what kitchen instruments you find indispensable."
So the CC hied himself on a mental walk around his kitchen (we were greedily gorging some lamb (cooked deliciously rare) laced with rosemary, and spanakopita on their familial farmhouse at the time.)
Big duh there!
The CC actually uses it to grind fresh spices (both roasted, and unroasted.) Even Indians don't understand good Indian cooking until you have it made with freshly ground spices. (If the CC had to pick just one instrument, this would win hands down!)
Everything from beans to conch!
The CC never knew how much he would miss it until he had one. Juice of forty limes? Not a problem!
Ditto! Where have you been all my life?
You don't understand until you own one. Trust the CC on this one.
The CC is "old school". Some things cannot be improved upon.
Sure the CC would miss the stones in the oven, and the pizza peel, or the steamers, and the zesters but they are not indispensable. The above constitute "basic necessity", at least in the eyes of the CC.
So, gentle readers, are there things you find indispensable?
Lobster
So the CC has never much cared for lobsters. However, the recent vacation to Maine has changed all that.
Fresh lobster is as delicious as they say. The CC has OD'ed on both lobsters, and lobster rolls, and is eagerly looking forward to his next Maine vacation.
The CC is delighted to learn that some things are distinctly geography-laden, and that even New York's proximity to Maine can change the potential of an edible that much.
Which brings the grand total of things that the CC does not care for down to one : brussel sprouts. However, on the vacation, the CC gathered a crackling new recipe for it, and is raring to try it out. Here's hoping...
Fresh lobster is as delicious as they say. The CC has OD'ed on both lobsters, and lobster rolls, and is eagerly looking forward to his next Maine vacation.
The CC is delighted to learn that some things are distinctly geography-laden, and that even New York's proximity to Maine can change the potential of an edible that much.
Which brings the grand total of things that the CC does not care for down to one : brussel sprouts. However, on the vacation, the CC gathered a crackling new recipe for it, and is raring to try it out. Here's hoping...
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Corn Salsa
So the CC is invited to the birthday party of some friends, and was charged with making a bunch of salsas for the occasion.
Over the years, this corn salsa (yes, I'm using the term loosely) has been one of the biggest hits at the CC's parties.
Truth be told, the CC doesn't even remember where he got this recipe.
Ingredients
8-10 cobs of fresh corn (or 2 packages frozen)
6 sun-dried tomatoes (reconstituted with hot water, and then diced)
2-3 chipotles en adobo (diced)
Recipe
Place the corn on a baking sheet, and roast it in the oven at 300F for roughly an hour. Check towards the end, otherwise the corn might get burnt.
Mix the three things together, and add a bit of the sun-dried tomato water.
That's it! The simplicity belies the brilliance of flavors. Only problem? The dried corn sticks to your teeth. Heheheheh.
Over the years, this corn salsa (yes, I'm using the term loosely) has been one of the biggest hits at the CC's parties.
Truth be told, the CC doesn't even remember where he got this recipe.
Ingredients
8-10 cobs of fresh corn (or 2 packages frozen)
6 sun-dried tomatoes (reconstituted with hot water, and then diced)
2-3 chipotles en adobo (diced)
Recipe
Place the corn on a baking sheet, and roast it in the oven at 300F for roughly an hour. Check towards the end, otherwise the corn might get burnt.
Mix the three things together, and add a bit of the sun-dried tomato water.
That's it! The simplicity belies the brilliance of flavors. Only problem? The dried corn sticks to your teeth. Heheheheh.
Friday, October 6, 2006
Vacation
The CC will be taking a much needed vacation, initially to go visit the wedding of a very close friend in Massachussetts.
Also featured on this trip will be culinary adventures of the seafood kind up and down the Eastern Seaboard.
I promise interesting posts about the trip when I return.
Also featured on this trip will be culinary adventures of the seafood kind up and down the Eastern Seaboard.
I promise interesting posts about the trip when I return.
Sunday, October 1, 2006
Clam Pizza
Ever since spending his waking hours in Connecticut, the CC finds himself addicted to clam pizza?
"Where have you been all my life?"
Is the CC turning into an East-coaster? (Apologies to all of you on the wrong coast!)
Comments, please!
"Where have you been all my life?"
Is the CC turning into an East-coaster? (Apologies to all of you on the wrong coast!)
Comments, please!
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Penne with Garlic
This is literally one of the simplest dishes the CC knows, and is the ultimate "comfort food".
The CC is a garlic fiend so garlic haters need not apply!
Ingredients
penne
8-12 cloves garlic minced (per person)
parmigianio-reggiano
black pepper
Recipe
Bring a pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Add the penne, and cook till al dente.
In a separate pan, fry the garlic in olive oil till pale golden (don't burn it otherwise it will turn bitter.) Toss in the pasta, and stir for 5 seconds.
Dump it on a plate, and shave fresh parmigiano over it. Add freshly cracked black pepper too. (The CC adds very finely minced parsley if he has it.)
Enjoy!
The CC is a garlic fiend so garlic haters need not apply!
Ingredients
penne
8-12 cloves garlic minced (per person)
parmigianio-reggiano
black pepper
Recipe
Bring a pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Add the penne, and cook till al dente.
In a separate pan, fry the garlic in olive oil till pale golden (don't burn it otherwise it will turn bitter.) Toss in the pasta, and stir for 5 seconds.
Dump it on a plate, and shave fresh parmigiano over it. Add freshly cracked black pepper too. (The CC adds very finely minced parsley if he has it.)
Enjoy!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The Universality of Human Taste : A Contest
Is there a culture that doesn't have the combination of fried dough, and sweet stuff?
We can argue about the details, but it seems to me that the above combination is pretty much as universal as it gets!
We have the Italian-American zeppole (fried dough with powdered sugar), the Spanish churros (fried dough with "just-about-you-name-it" sweet stuff), the North-Indian gulab jamun (fried wheat dough dunked in sugar syrup); the list is endless...
Donuts are similar (they use cake dough though.)
Now, the CC is not exactly a sugar fiend, but the CC is organizing a contest.
Add to the above list, and win a prize! (You can't just use a regional term, and win it; it must be original.)
Every participant that offers up an original entry to the modest list above will be given a "no-holds barred dinner chez le CC".
You know you want it!
We can argue about the details, but it seems to me that the above combination is pretty much as universal as it gets!
We have the Italian-American zeppole (fried dough with powdered sugar), the Spanish churros (fried dough with "just-about-you-name-it" sweet stuff), the North-Indian gulab jamun (fried wheat dough dunked in sugar syrup); the list is endless...
Donuts are similar (they use cake dough though.)
Now, the CC is not exactly a sugar fiend, but the CC is organizing a contest.
Add to the above list, and win a prize! (You can't just use a regional term, and win it; it must be original.)
Every participant that offers up an original entry to the modest list above will be given a "no-holds barred dinner chez le CC".
You know you want it!
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Tomato Paste : The Pictorial Version
Even though it may not be immediately obvious, the stuff darkens considerably starting from a pale orange to a deep dark brownish-red.
Cookbooks
Recently, a friend of mine sent me an email:
I realized the other day that I have all these fancy schmanzy cookbooks, but for anything basic I always resort to the net, which bugs me, because I prefer to have a giant, ingredient-stained tome on the table behind me when I cook, rather than an ingredient-stained laptop.
What's your favorite basic cookbook?
She also called the CC useless, but the CC refuses to succumb to bitterness.
I'm going to give a non-answer in a Zen sort of way.
I don't have a favorite basic cookbook. There, I've said it!
The CC's shelves are lined with regional cookbooks. Everything from Afghani to Haitian cooking is included. There are regional cookbooks from just about every region of India, and translations of books from the 17th century to the present.
So the CC is really unable to recommend a specific cookbook.
I don't like The Joy of Cooking (too bland!) I do like Julia Child but only when I'm in the mood to be a perfectionist. I prefer Patricia Wells if I just want to put together a quick French bistro-style meal.
So what is the CC good for?
What the CC can do is to recommend a basic cookbook for any given cuisine. For Italian, I'd pick Marcella Hazan, for Mexican, Diana Kennedy, for Greek, Diane Kochilas, and so on and so forth.
How's that for a non-answer?
I realized the other day that I have all these fancy schmanzy cookbooks, but for anything basic I always resort to the net, which bugs me, because I prefer to have a giant, ingredient-stained tome on the table behind me when I cook, rather than an ingredient-stained laptop.
What's your favorite basic cookbook?
She also called the CC useless, but the CC refuses to succumb to bitterness.
I'm going to give a non-answer in a Zen sort of way.
I don't have a favorite basic cookbook. There, I've said it!
The CC's shelves are lined with regional cookbooks. Everything from Afghani to Haitian cooking is included. There are regional cookbooks from just about every region of India, and translations of books from the 17th century to the present.
So the CC is really unable to recommend a specific cookbook.
I don't like The Joy of Cooking (too bland!) I do like Julia Child but only when I'm in the mood to be a perfectionist. I prefer Patricia Wells if I just want to put together a quick French bistro-style meal.
So what is the CC good for?
What the CC can do is to recommend a basic cookbook for any given cuisine. For Italian, I'd pick Marcella Hazan, for Mexican, Diana Kennedy, for Greek, Diane Kochilas, and so on and so forth.
How's that for a non-answer?
Tomato Paste
Homemade tomato paste is simply one of those finer pleasures of life. The CC hates to act all rhapsodic but give this a whirl. You'll thank me in February!
When the CC fries the tomato paste in winter, the entire house smells of tomatoes!
The CC prefers to use heirloom tomatoes (preferably federle.)
Photos of the process will be posted in a separate post.
Ingredients
12 lbs ripe summer tomatoes (quartered)
olive oil
salt
Recipe
The recipe is absurdly simple but takes a long time. You don't really have to do anything but you gotta stick around since you don't want your house to burn down.
Fry some olive oil in a pot. Toss in the tomatoes, and let them melt (covered) on a low heat for roughly 30 mins or so. Take a food mill, and pass the stuff through the finest sieve.
Put the strained stuff in a pot, and let it simmer on extremely low heat. This will probably take more than 6 hours or so, and no! you can't hurry the process.
You will have to skim it every hour or so. The oil will separate out rather cleanly because of the extremely low heat. (You can even just sop it up with a paper towel!)
By the end, the tomato paste will be very syrupy (caramelization is taking place,) and it will be a deep dark red.
Toss in quite a bit of salt. You need this to preserve it. You can tone down the salt in the recipe that uses the tomato paste later.
This stuff freezes beautifully, and should last a year.
When the CC fries the tomato paste in winter, the entire house smells of tomatoes!
The CC prefers to use heirloom tomatoes (preferably federle.)
Photos of the process will be posted in a separate post.
Ingredients
12 lbs ripe summer tomatoes (quartered)
olive oil
salt
Recipe
The recipe is absurdly simple but takes a long time. You don't really have to do anything but you gotta stick around since you don't want your house to burn down.
Fry some olive oil in a pot. Toss in the tomatoes, and let them melt (covered) on a low heat for roughly 30 mins or so. Take a food mill, and pass the stuff through the finest sieve.
Put the strained stuff in a pot, and let it simmer on extremely low heat. This will probably take more than 6 hours or so, and no! you can't hurry the process.
You will have to skim it every hour or so. The oil will separate out rather cleanly because of the extremely low heat. (You can even just sop it up with a paper towel!)
By the end, the tomato paste will be very syrupy (caramelization is taking place,) and it will be a deep dark red.
Toss in quite a bit of salt. You need this to preserve it. You can tone down the salt in the recipe that uses the tomato paste later.
This stuff freezes beautifully, and should last a year.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Risotto
Risotto minus a dusting of parmigiano-reggiano is a travesty. I speak from experience.
Weep, New York restaraunts, and weep, all you New York lovers, this is a fucking travesty.
You may as well live in fucking Idaho!
Weep, New York restaraunts, and weep, all you New York lovers, this is a fucking travesty.
You may as well live in fucking Idaho!
Saturday, September 9, 2006
Mussels with garlic
This is such an easy recipe, but unbelievably good. Try it on some Friday night when you're too tired to cook, but still want a good meal.
Ingredients
3 shallots cut into rounds
10-12 cloves of garlic, cut into thin rounds (or more!)
mussels
clams
1/2 cup finely chopped parsley
salt
lots of black pepper
bottle of dry white
crusty bread
Recipe
Fry the shallots in olive oil till they are light golden, fry the garlic. Add lots of black pepper, and some salt (not too much, the clams will exude some too.) Toss in the mussels, and clams, 1/2 cup of the wine, and 1/2 cup of water.
Steam the mussels till they open (no more than 5-6 minutes.) Take it off the heat (important: or else the mussels and clams will shrink.) Stir in the parsley, and serve with bread. There should be a lot of liquid to sop your bread with (and it's fucking delicious!)
If you like, you can pull the mussels, and clams with tongs, reduce the broth a bit, and then stir in the parsley, and pour it over the mussels.
Dry wine, crusty bread, mussels with garlic. This is the life!
Ingredients
3 shallots cut into rounds
10-12 cloves of garlic, cut into thin rounds (or more!)
mussels
clams
1/2 cup finely chopped parsley
salt
lots of black pepper
bottle of dry white
crusty bread
Recipe
Fry the shallots in olive oil till they are light golden, fry the garlic. Add lots of black pepper, and some salt (not too much, the clams will exude some too.) Toss in the mussels, and clams, 1/2 cup of the wine, and 1/2 cup of water.
Steam the mussels till they open (no more than 5-6 minutes.) Take it off the heat (important: or else the mussels and clams will shrink.) Stir in the parsley, and serve with bread. There should be a lot of liquid to sop your bread with (and it's fucking delicious!)
If you like, you can pull the mussels, and clams with tongs, reduce the broth a bit, and then stir in the parsley, and pour it over the mussels.
Dry wine, crusty bread, mussels with garlic. This is the life!
Sunday, September 3, 2006
Fava Bean Risotto
OK, we've been through the risotto stuff on this blog before so let's keep this short and simple.
Everyone should know the trick of a making a good risotto. Broth, on a low simmer in a different vessel. Keep adding to rice at periodic intervals, and stir.
Ingredients
2 lbs fresh fava beans (peeled, cooked, and 3/4-th of them pureed, keep the rest.)
6 shallots (finely diced)
4 cloves garlic (finely diced)
4 cups arborio, or vialone nano
5-6 cups vegetable broth (homemade, but use commercial, you wimps!)
salt (depending on broth)
pepper (a tad)
freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
freshly grated black pepper
Recipe
Fry the shallots, and garlic soffrito. Add the rice, and fry for at least a minute or two, till each grain is covered in oil. Add the broth a ladleful at a time, and keep stirring. Add the fava bean puree towards the beginning, and the whole fava beans towards the end.
Serve while hot, with freshly grated Parm, and black pepper to taste.
Everyone should know the trick of a making a good risotto. Broth, on a low simmer in a different vessel. Keep adding to rice at periodic intervals, and stir.
Ingredients
2 lbs fresh fava beans (peeled, cooked, and 3/4-th of them pureed, keep the rest.)
6 shallots (finely diced)
4 cloves garlic (finely diced)
4 cups arborio, or vialone nano
5-6 cups vegetable broth (homemade, but use commercial, you wimps!)
salt (depending on broth)
pepper (a tad)
freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
freshly grated black pepper
Recipe
Fry the shallots, and garlic soffrito. Add the rice, and fry for at least a minute or two, till each grain is covered in oil. Add the broth a ladleful at a time, and keep stirring. Add the fava bean puree towards the beginning, and the whole fava beans towards the end.
Serve while hot, with freshly grated Parm, and black pepper to taste.
Pappa al Pomodoro
This is a poor man's recipe that went upscale, and over many years this is the most requested recipe chez the CC.
The CC came across it in a bizarre manner.
Many years ago, the CC was in Firenze on a conference, and we went to a restaurant appropriately titled "The Mad Cook".
Now, this was a family space, and the chef was the seater, order-taker, and waiter.
In deciding the "specials of the day", given that he spoke limited English, he called this "tomato soup".
On ordering it, the CC had furious scorn heaped upon him by his friends -- "You come to Italy, and order tomato soup, etc."
The soup arrived. It was unreal. Everyone wanted a part of the action, and the CC allowed them all a meagre taste, and left them to their pathetic appetizers while he enjoyed a wondrous soup.
Two evenings later, the CC strolled by the restaurant to ask the chef about the recipe. The CC knows barely some Italian (Romance-language related), and the chef barely spoke English but somehow I convinced him that I was no rival chef, that I was a student, and "No, I will not open a restaurant with your recipe."
These are important things in Italy.
Ingredients
1 large red onion (coarsely diced)
lots of garlic cloves (chopped into largish pieces)
1 stalk celery
8 tomatoes (diced)
3 tbsp tomato paste (homemade, but use commercial, you wimps!)
basil leaves (two piles -- one loosely torn, one chiffonaded)
stale bread (cut into largish rounds)
olive oil.
Recipe
Fry the onion and garlic till light golden. Toss in the celery. Fry briefly. Toss in the broth, tomatoes, salt and pepper (to taste), tomato paste. Simmer on extreme low heat till the tomatoes concentrate. This should also sweeten the mixture. Add two cups of broth/water, and bring to a slow rolling boil.
Turn off the heat, add the bread, and mix it all up. Make sure the broth covers all of it. Let it sit for a while.
Add the torn basil just before reheating.
When serving, serve with the chiffonaded basil, and fresh cracked pepper.
The CC came across it in a bizarre manner.
Many years ago, the CC was in Firenze on a conference, and we went to a restaurant appropriately titled "The Mad Cook".
Now, this was a family space, and the chef was the seater, order-taker, and waiter.
In deciding the "specials of the day", given that he spoke limited English, he called this "tomato soup".
On ordering it, the CC had furious scorn heaped upon him by his friends -- "You come to Italy, and order tomato soup, etc."
The soup arrived. It was unreal. Everyone wanted a part of the action, and the CC allowed them all a meagre taste, and left them to their pathetic appetizers while he enjoyed a wondrous soup.
Two evenings later, the CC strolled by the restaurant to ask the chef about the recipe. The CC knows barely some Italian (Romance-language related), and the chef barely spoke English but somehow I convinced him that I was no rival chef, that I was a student, and "No, I will not open a restaurant with your recipe."
These are important things in Italy.
Ingredients
1 large red onion (coarsely diced)
lots of garlic cloves (chopped into largish pieces)
1 stalk celery
8 tomatoes (diced)
3 tbsp tomato paste (homemade, but use commercial, you wimps!)
basil leaves (two piles -- one loosely torn, one chiffonaded)
stale bread (cut into largish rounds)
olive oil.
Recipe
Fry the onion and garlic till light golden. Toss in the celery. Fry briefly. Toss in the broth, tomatoes, salt and pepper (to taste), tomato paste. Simmer on extreme low heat till the tomatoes concentrate. This should also sweeten the mixture. Add two cups of broth/water, and bring to a slow rolling boil.
Turn off the heat, add the bread, and mix it all up. Make sure the broth covers all of it. Let it sit for a while.
Add the torn basil just before reheating.
When serving, serve with the chiffonaded basil, and fresh cracked pepper.
Confessional
It's Sunday, and even though I'm not Catholic, it's time to 'fess up on stuff I hate.
Father, forgive me for I have sinned against the temple of cooking by hating:
I used to hate my life until I bought a juicer. Now, I can juice 40 lemons (yep! 40), and not hate it.
Father, forgive me for I have sinned against the temple of cooking by hating:
- Plucking cilantro leaves (or similar.) In fact, it always puts me in a crappy mood to the point where my friends volunteer to do it rather than have me bitch and moan.
- Peeling the skin off the garlic.
- Mincing garlic (ok! I hate it but it's gotta be done 'cause the end product matters, and the CC is a perfectionist.)
- Taking the skin off the goddamn' fava beans.
I used to hate my life until I bought a juicer. Now, I can juice 40 lemons (yep! 40), and not hate it.
Saturday, September 2, 2006
Fresh Fava Beans
If you haven't ever eaten them, or cooked them, consider suicide as an alternative, given that you seem to be leading a mere simulacrum of a life eating crapola!
They are easy to cook but time-consuming.
Pod them, drop them in boiling water for 5-8 minutes, dunk them in cold water, and take off the papery outside shell.
A bit of work, but not that much if you drink a fine glass of wine, and listen to some music while doing it.
They are easy to cook but time-consuming.
Pod them, drop them in boiling water for 5-8 minutes, dunk them in cold water, and take off the papery outside shell.
A bit of work, but not that much if you drink a fine glass of wine, and listen to some music while doing it.
Vegetable Broth
Most people don't seem to realize how easy broths are to make. They take time and effort, but the commercial crap is so fucking awful that the CC wants to cry over the death of the culinary arts.
Normally, the CC's freezer is chock-full of broths, but I didn't have an appropriate broth for tomorrow's meal.
So it was off to the local farmers' market to get fresh veggies in pissing rain.
Everyone has a favorite broth recipe so you should take what's below as "generic", and feel free to muck with it.
The only caveat that I want to add is that mushroom-based broths have a unique character so be sure that's what you want before you head there.
I wanted a light summer broth, and wanted a mild citrusy flavor so I added lemon-grass (but you don't have to.)
Ingredients
1 red onion (chopped into large pieces)
3 carrots (with fronds, chopped coarsely)
1 zucchini (chopped into large rounds)
3 leeks (cut into large rounds)
3 stalks of celery (coarsley chopped)
1 potato (cut into chunks)
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 tbsp black peppercorns
3 bay leaves
Recipe
Fry the onion, and the leeks until they are translucent. Add the celery, and fry for a minute or two. Add the fennel, peppercorns, and bay leaves and fry for a minute.
Now add the rest of the veggies, and fry them for at least 5-7 minutes. (I will explain the science behind this in a later post.)
Add cold water to the brim of the pot (it is crucial that the water be cold!)
Now the hard part, let the mixture come to a slow boil. As it does, the fat will come to the surface.
Skim, baby, skim
Let it simmer (uncovered) on a very slow heat for the better part of two hours. Keep skimming. (Yes, this is painful.)
Take a cheese-cloth, and separate the broth from the crap. (Toss out the crap!)
If you plan to freeze it, add salt to it. Don't worry about the fact that it is concentrated, you can always dilute it later.
Normally, the CC's freezer is chock-full of broths, but I didn't have an appropriate broth for tomorrow's meal.
So it was off to the local farmers' market to get fresh veggies in pissing rain.
Everyone has a favorite broth recipe so you should take what's below as "generic", and feel free to muck with it.
The only caveat that I want to add is that mushroom-based broths have a unique character so be sure that's what you want before you head there.
I wanted a light summer broth, and wanted a mild citrusy flavor so I added lemon-grass (but you don't have to.)
Ingredients
1 red onion (chopped into large pieces)
3 carrots (with fronds, chopped coarsely)
1 zucchini (chopped into large rounds)
3 leeks (cut into large rounds)
3 stalks of celery (coarsley chopped)
1 potato (cut into chunks)
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 tbsp black peppercorns
3 bay leaves
Recipe
Fry the onion, and the leeks until they are translucent. Add the celery, and fry for a minute or two. Add the fennel, peppercorns, and bay leaves and fry for a minute.
Now add the rest of the veggies, and fry them for at least 5-7 minutes. (I will explain the science behind this in a later post.)
Add cold water to the brim of the pot (it is crucial that the water be cold!)
Now the hard part, let the mixture come to a slow boil. As it does, the fat will come to the surface.
Skim, baby, skim
Let it simmer (uncovered) on a very slow heat for the better part of two hours. Keep skimming. (Yes, this is painful.)
Take a cheese-cloth, and separate the broth from the crap. (Toss out the crap!)
If you plan to freeze it, add salt to it. Don't worry about the fact that it is concentrated, you can always dilute it later.
A Grand Meal
Well, a grand meal is being prepared at the CC's place for a cousin (of sorts) whom I haven't seen in ages.
The requirements are vegetarian ("trivial! you call that a challenge?") and kid-friendly ("there's a challenge") but also grand ("now, I double-dare you!")
Watch this space. I will be blogging as I prepare the various items from scratch.
The requirements are vegetarian ("trivial! you call that a challenge?") and kid-friendly ("there's a challenge") but also grand ("now, I double-dare you!")
Watch this space. I will be blogging as I prepare the various items from scratch.
Persistence Pays : A Black Bean Soup story
In times past, the CC lived in another city, and within that city there was a Jamaican restaurant. They made a killer black bean soup.
Now, this being one of those happy, clappy neighborhoods, they made it vegetarian (tradionally, they would've used some ham.)
Oh, how we loved that soup!
So, a friend and I went there three days in a row trying to discover the secret of this soup. Finally, one of the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed waiters noticed, and asked us what was up. So we told him, and he ran into the kitchen. He ran back (being all of 18, and not yet quite jaded) and told us the "important part", and the rest we just kinda figured out ourselves.
Patience is required since this requires some planning.
Ingredients
4 cups dried black beans
1 red onion (finely diced)
2 tomatoes (finely diced)
4 cloves garlic (finely minced)
1/2 scotch bonnet (yep! 1/2, diced)
2 tbsp fresh rosemary (finely chopped)
1 tsp cumin
3 bay leaves
1/2 tsp ground cloves
black pepper (lots)
cilantro (finely minced)
cooking sherry (sweet)
Pre-preparation
Soak the beans in water overnight. Next morning, rinse them, and then soak them in cooking sherry for at least 8 hours. Before cooking, separate the beans from the sherry, but keep the sherry.
Recipe
Fry the onion, and the garlic. Toss in the tomatoes, beans, water to cover, and the spices, and a good fraction of the sherry (depending on how sweet you want it to taste.) Cook for about an hour or more till the beans are cooked through.
Throw in the scotch-bonnets towards the end otherwise it'll make the soup too hot.
The cilantro is for sprinkling right before serving.
Now, this being one of those happy, clappy neighborhoods, they made it vegetarian (tradionally, they would've used some ham.)
Oh, how we loved that soup!
So, a friend and I went there three days in a row trying to discover the secret of this soup. Finally, one of the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed waiters noticed, and asked us what was up. So we told him, and he ran into the kitchen. He ran back (being all of 18, and not yet quite jaded) and told us the "important part", and the rest we just kinda figured out ourselves.
Patience is required since this requires some planning.
Ingredients
4 cups dried black beans
1 red onion (finely diced)
2 tomatoes (finely diced)
4 cloves garlic (finely minced)
1/2 scotch bonnet (yep! 1/2, diced)
2 tbsp fresh rosemary (finely chopped)
1 tsp cumin
3 bay leaves
1/2 tsp ground cloves
black pepper (lots)
cilantro (finely minced)
cooking sherry (sweet)
Pre-preparation
Soak the beans in water overnight. Next morning, rinse them, and then soak them in cooking sherry for at least 8 hours. Before cooking, separate the beans from the sherry, but keep the sherry.
Recipe
Fry the onion, and the garlic. Toss in the tomatoes, beans, water to cover, and the spices, and a good fraction of the sherry (depending on how sweet you want it to taste.) Cook for about an hour or more till the beans are cooked through.
Throw in the scotch-bonnets towards the end otherwise it'll make the soup too hot.
The cilantro is for sprinkling right before serving.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
A Haitian Meal (Part 4)
Gluttonous, and happy, the CC and his friends sit.
The house smells like tomatoes.
The CC is deliriously happy, and is behaving like the average 7-year old (and the friends are too drunk to care!)
Thank goodness for stone walls, floors, and ceilings!
The house smells like tomatoes.
The CC is deliriously happy, and is behaving like the average 7-year old (and the friends are too drunk to care!)
Thank goodness for stone walls, floors, and ceilings!
A Haitian Meal (Part 3)
RICE & RED BEANS
Deceptively simple, and yet utterly beguiling!
Ingredients
2 cups red kidney beans
2 cloves garlic (minced)
4 large shallots (diced)
1 large onion (finely diced)
8 cloves
8 whole peppercorns
4 cups long grained rice (the CC used basmati)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves
salt to taste
Recipe
Soak the beans overnight (or at least 8 hours.)
Pressure cook them with salt till tender but not soft. (This is a tricky assignment!)
Heat the oil, and fry the onions and shallots till soft. Add the garlic, and fry till golden. Add the cloves and peppercorns, and fry till they "plump" slightly.
Add the rice, and fry for roughly a minute. Add the beans, thyme, and salt, and roughly 6 cups of water. Bring to a simmer, and let it cook until the rice is done. (roughly 10 minutes. You may need to add a little bit more water.)
Deceptively simple, and yet utterly beguiling!
Ingredients
2 cups red kidney beans
2 cloves garlic (minced)
4 large shallots (diced)
1 large onion (finely diced)
8 cloves
8 whole peppercorns
4 cups long grained rice (the CC used basmati)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves
salt to taste
Recipe
Soak the beans overnight (or at least 8 hours.)
Pressure cook them with salt till tender but not soft. (This is a tricky assignment!)
Heat the oil, and fry the onions and shallots till soft. Add the garlic, and fry till golden. Add the cloves and peppercorns, and fry till they "plump" slightly.
Add the rice, and fry for roughly a minute. Add the beans, thyme, and salt, and roughly 6 cups of water. Bring to a simmer, and let it cook until the rice is done. (roughly 10 minutes. You may need to add a little bit more water.)
A Haitian Meal (Part 2)
LAMBI
Ingredients
1 lb squid (cut into rings)
Juice of 13 limes
2 habañeros (chopped coarsely)
4 lbs tomatoes (quartered)
1 tbsp tomato paste (homemade, but substitute commercial you wimps!)
1 large red onion (cut into semi-rounds)
2 cloves garlic (minced)
2 small green bell peppers (cut into strips)
2 small red bell peppers (cut into strips)
1 tbsp olive oil
salt and black pepper
Recipe
The recipe really goes in three stages: marination, preparing the tomato puree, and cooking the stuff.
Marinade the lime with the squid and habañeros for at least 4 hours.
Prepare a pot of boiling water. Dunk the tomatoes for 4 minutes or so. Pass them through a fine food mill, and collect the puree. (A deceptively large amount of work is hidden in this rather innocent description.)
WARNING: If you use heirloom tomatoes like I did, they have seeds that passed through the finest grade of my food mill. I had to pass it through a sieve lined with cheese cloth again!
Heat the olive oil, and fry the onions until limp, and translucent, and the garlic, and saute until it turns light golden.
Add the tomato paste, and fry for about a minute. Add the puree, and half of the both of the bell peppers, salt and pepper to taste, and turn the heat as low as possible.
At this point experienced readers should know what to do.
Skim, baby, skim.
Add the rest of the bell peppers, and turn off the heat, and take the pot off the hot stove.
Dump the squid, and a bit of the lime (but not the habañeros) in there.
The last instruction may seem a tad mysterious but it isn't. One of the culinary crimes that this country commits is "overcooking the squid". Squid should not be rubbery! You are dumping it into a hot puree, it will cook by itself. Of course, if you cook with different seafood, the instructions will change.
The idea behind adding half the bell peppers later is to create two textures, one slightly crunchy, and one more "soggy".
Ingredients
1 lb squid (cut into rings)
Juice of 13 limes
2 habañeros (chopped coarsely)
4 lbs tomatoes (quartered)
1 tbsp tomato paste (homemade, but substitute commercial you wimps!)
1 large red onion (cut into semi-rounds)
2 cloves garlic (minced)
2 small green bell peppers (cut into strips)
2 small red bell peppers (cut into strips)
1 tbsp olive oil
salt and black pepper
Recipe
The recipe really goes in three stages: marination, preparing the tomato puree, and cooking the stuff.
Marinade the lime with the squid and habañeros for at least 4 hours.
Prepare a pot of boiling water. Dunk the tomatoes for 4 minutes or so. Pass them through a fine food mill, and collect the puree. (A deceptively large amount of work is hidden in this rather innocent description.)
WARNING: If you use heirloom tomatoes like I did, they have seeds that passed through the finest grade of my food mill. I had to pass it through a sieve lined with cheese cloth again!
Heat the olive oil, and fry the onions until limp, and translucent, and the garlic, and saute until it turns light golden.
Add the tomato paste, and fry for about a minute. Add the puree, and half of the both of the bell peppers, salt and pepper to taste, and turn the heat as low as possible.
At this point experienced readers should know what to do.
Skim, baby, skim.
Add the rest of the bell peppers, and turn off the heat, and take the pot off the hot stove.
Dump the squid, and a bit of the lime (but not the habañeros) in there.
The last instruction may seem a tad mysterious but it isn't. One of the culinary crimes that this country commits is "overcooking the squid". Squid should not be rubbery! You are dumping it into a hot puree, it will cook by itself. Of course, if you cook with different seafood, the instructions will change.
The idea behind adding half the bell peppers later is to create two textures, one slightly crunchy, and one more "soggy".
Culinary Disasters (a clarification for posterity)
The CC in one fell swoop will raise the quality of your Indian cooking to a new level.
In an Indian cookbook, when they say lemon, they actually mean lime.
The CC would know.
This is a linguistic disaster turned into the Hindenburg of culinary disasters!
In an Indian cookbook, when they say lemon, they actually mean lime.
The CC would know.
This is a linguistic disaster turned into the Hindenburg of culinary disasters!
A Haitian Meal (Part 1)
A friend of mine has been begging me to write about this forever, but alas destiny intervened, and those that know the CC know that when destiny calls, the CC calls destiny back, and screws destiny to the wall.
However, that is tedious and time consuming.
But summer is here, and so are the good tomatoes. Since this recipe is tomato-heavy, the CC wandered down to the Farmer's Market to get some heirloom tomatoes. Once again, the guy berated me, "You weren't here last week. You expect me to sell these heirloom tomatoes to these proles?"
The recipe is somewhat time consuming but obviously worth it. If you think it's not worth it, we'll settle it like gentlemen, "Chocolate soufflés at ten paces."
I first had this meal at a Haitian restaurant. I desperately wanted to reproduce it so I consulted my two Haitian cookbooks.
They agree on the fundamentals, but differ slightly on the details.
Two things stand out:
[1] Haitian food is heavily influenced by French cooking. Not a big surprise there. The same themes stand out : skimming, rouille, etc.
[2] However, they adapted it to native fish, vegetables, etc. Shouldn't be a big surprise either.
I chatted with the woman who runs the restaurant, and she said while it was traditionally made with conch, it's really adaptable to any kind of seafood, and once you see the recipe, you will see why.
I made it with squid although I plan to make it with conch now that she told me where in New York I can find it.
However, that is tedious and time consuming.
But summer is here, and so are the good tomatoes. Since this recipe is tomato-heavy, the CC wandered down to the Farmer's Market to get some heirloom tomatoes. Once again, the guy berated me, "You weren't here last week. You expect me to sell these heirloom tomatoes to these proles?"
The recipe is somewhat time consuming but obviously worth it. If you think it's not worth it, we'll settle it like gentlemen, "Chocolate soufflés at ten paces."
I first had this meal at a Haitian restaurant. I desperately wanted to reproduce it so I consulted my two Haitian cookbooks.
They agree on the fundamentals, but differ slightly on the details.
Two things stand out:
[1] Haitian food is heavily influenced by French cooking. Not a big surprise there. The same themes stand out : skimming, rouille, etc.
[2] However, they adapted it to native fish, vegetables, etc. Shouldn't be a big surprise either.
I chatted with the woman who runs the restaurant, and she said while it was traditionally made with conch, it's really adaptable to any kind of seafood, and once you see the recipe, you will see why.
I made it with squid although I plan to make it with conch now that she told me where in New York I can find it.
Sunday, August 6, 2006
Tomatoes
Well, summer is here, and so are the good heirloom tomatoes.
The CC wandered down to the farmer's market yesterday morning. Had a chat with the farmer with the good tomatoes who complained that I buy nothing from him but tomatoes (simply not true, he has awesome fresh herbs.)
Well, he's my age, and he's known me for five seasons so in a spirit of exuberant comradery, he yelled out to his siblings and co-workers, and most of New York, "Give this man whatever he wants! He's the only one who knows good tomatoes."
The yuppies on the Upper West Side were surprised, and the CC blushed a deep red.
However, it was supremely gratifying.
I bought ten pounds of tomatoes (yes, you heard that right!), and dinner consisted of tomato soup, a baguette, and a bottle of wine.
The CC wandered down to the farmer's market yesterday morning. Had a chat with the farmer with the good tomatoes who complained that I buy nothing from him but tomatoes (simply not true, he has awesome fresh herbs.)
Well, he's my age, and he's known me for five seasons so in a spirit of exuberant comradery, he yelled out to his siblings and co-workers, and most of New York, "Give this man whatever he wants! He's the only one who knows good tomatoes."
The yuppies on the Upper West Side were surprised, and the CC blushed a deep red.
However, it was supremely gratifying.
I bought ten pounds of tomatoes (yes, you heard that right!), and dinner consisted of tomato soup, a baguette, and a bottle of wine.
Two kinds of food enthusiasts
There are two kinds of "foodies".
The first are the ones who worship at the altar of the Michelin three-star -- white tablecloths, "fine" cuisine (*), and "service".
The second prefer substance over style, and hence, authenticity over presentation. They'll take rickety plastic tables, and naked hanging bulbs if the food kicks ass.
The CC clearly belongs to the latter school (although he will be the first to admit that he has learnt a lot from the former.)
Consider this the first salvo in the "food wars".
(*) You can always disguise crap cuisine with truffles! (And the sad truth about New York is that most "top" chefs do. Sad, really! Truly sad.)
The first are the ones who worship at the altar of the Michelin three-star -- white tablecloths, "fine" cuisine (*), and "service".
The second prefer substance over style, and hence, authenticity over presentation. They'll take rickety plastic tables, and naked hanging bulbs if the food kicks ass.
The CC clearly belongs to the latter school (although he will be the first to admit that he has learnt a lot from the former.)
Consider this the first salvo in the "food wars".
(*) You can always disguise crap cuisine with truffles! (And the sad truth about New York is that most "top" chefs do. Sad, really! Truly sad.)
Calamari
A.K.A. "squid", a.k.a. creepy-crawly stuff in the American imagination.
The food critic for Vogue, Jeffrey Steingarten invented what he called the "Calamari Index", as in, how easy is it to get "fried calamari" in a typical American restaurant?
It was obviously tongue-in-cheek, but has turned out to be remarkably prescient.
There's scarcely a bar/pub on either coast (and a lot of in-between) that doesn't feature "fried calamari" on the menu. Note the change of name from "squid" to the much fancier Italian -- "calamari".
Anyway, I highly recommend both of Steingarten's books : The Man Who Ate Everything, and It Must've Been Something I Ate.
For the record, the CC is not getting any money off the links above, and the CC's friends will NOT be getting those books for their respective birthdays/Christmas.
For the first time, ladies and gentlemen (you know who you are!), it's time to prove your dedication to the culinary arts.
A.K.A., pony up the dough, bitches!
The food critic for Vogue, Jeffrey Steingarten invented what he called the "Calamari Index", as in, how easy is it to get "fried calamari" in a typical American restaurant?
It was obviously tongue-in-cheek, but has turned out to be remarkably prescient.
There's scarcely a bar/pub on either coast (and a lot of in-between) that doesn't feature "fried calamari" on the menu. Note the change of name from "squid" to the much fancier Italian -- "calamari".
Anyway, I highly recommend both of Steingarten's books : The Man Who Ate Everything, and It Must've Been Something I Ate.
For the record, the CC is not getting any money off the links above, and the CC's friends will NOT be getting those books for their respective birthdays/Christmas.
For the first time, ladies and gentlemen (you know who you are!), it's time to prove your dedication to the culinary arts.
A.K.A., pony up the dough, bitches!
Pasta nero
A.K.A. "black" pasta. It's made with squid ink.
It may not sound like much but it's utterly delicious, and served topped with squid in a tomato sauce, the dish is better than sex. (Well, not quite, but you get the idea.)
Anyway, a few months ago the CC was dining at one of the local Italian restaurants on the Upper West Side, and was shocked to see that that the above mentioned dish had disappeared from their menu.
The CC told the waiter, "Why would you do something that stupid?", at which point the waiter ran back to the kitchen, came back, and informed the CC that the chef would be happy to make the above dish for the CC.
The chef delivered, and the CC was happy.
(NOTE: Contrary to popular opinion, I'm actually easy to please. I just have high standards.)
Why the post now?
The CC is happy to report that the chef has seen the error of his ways, and as of last night, features, not one, not two, but THREE dishes with "pasta nero".
Enough said!
It may not sound like much but it's utterly delicious, and served topped with squid in a tomato sauce, the dish is better than sex. (Well, not quite, but you get the idea.)
Anyway, a few months ago the CC was dining at one of the local Italian restaurants on the Upper West Side, and was shocked to see that that the above mentioned dish had disappeared from their menu.
The CC told the waiter, "Why would you do something that stupid?", at which point the waiter ran back to the kitchen, came back, and informed the CC that the chef would be happy to make the above dish for the CC.
The chef delivered, and the CC was happy.
(NOTE: Contrary to popular opinion, I'm actually easy to please. I just have high standards.)
Why the post now?
The CC is happy to report that the chef has seen the error of his ways, and as of last night, features, not one, not two, but THREE dishes with "pasta nero".
Enough said!
Monday, July 31, 2006
Cracked Eggs
In the universe of absurd ideas, we have a new entry. The BBC reports on how Hi-tech ink perfects egg boiling.
Presumably, people can't boil eggs. So they need a hi-tech ink embossed on those eggs which will progressively spell out, "Soft", "Medium", and "Hard"-boiled.
How fucking hard can it be to pop an egg into boiling water, and time it?
Presumably, people can't boil eggs. So they need a hi-tech ink embossed on those eggs which will progressively spell out, "Soft", "Medium", and "Hard"-boiled.
How fucking hard can it be to pop an egg into boiling water, and time it?
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Eye Candy
I've been informed that Mexican slang for the above is un taco de ojo.
As in tacos made with meat from the eyes of a cow.
Nifty, eh?
As in tacos made with meat from the eyes of a cow.
Nifty, eh?
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Tandoori Chicken
The CC is sick of being asked for this recipe, and since I'm making it for a grilling event tomorrow, in the spirit of summer, I'm just going to document it once and for all.
The "magic" of the recipe is in the double marinade. You really can't speed up this process. It has to marinate two nights.
Also, for the "germ-phobes", the recipe was designed to work in a hot climate without any refrigerators. I wanna see what can grow in this absurd level of acidity.
For the record, I'm not going to use that vile food coloring that makes this chicken "pink". This is the real deal. Enjoy!
Marinade 1
8-10 tbsp lime juice or vinegar
1 tbsp red chilli powder (the "Indian" one)
1 tbsp salt.
Marinade 2
yogurt (the sour, greek, strained one not the crap you get!)
1-2 inches of ginger (peeled)
4-6 cloves garlic
5 green chillies (the "Indian" ones. Use serranos as a substitute.)
cilantro
2 tsp cloves
2 bay leaves
4-8 green cardamoms
1 tsp mace
1 tsp nutmeg
2 tsp black peppercorns
2 tsp caraway seeds
2 tbsp salt
Recipe
Mix the first marinade. Rub all over the chickens. Leave overnight.
For the second marinade, grind all of "group 3" in a coffee grinder, grind all of "group 2" in a blender, and mix all three together. You should get greenish-white glop with black flecks from all the spices.
Take each piece of chicken from the first marinade, coat them all over with the yogurt marinade. Pour the rest of the stuff over the chickens, and marinate overnight. (The first marinade gets discarded. Yes, this is correct!)
Grill. Keep basting it with the marinade. (It's not the same as a "tandoor" but it's damn close.)
For the eternally harangued-by-their-job-I-have-no-time-to-cook, the bare minimum is 4 hours for the first, and 8 hours for the second (but don't expect it to taste as good as the real deal.)
The "magic" of the recipe is in the double marinade. You really can't speed up this process. It has to marinate two nights.
Also, for the "germ-phobes", the recipe was designed to work in a hot climate without any refrigerators. I wanna see what can grow in this absurd level of acidity.
For the record, I'm not going to use that vile food coloring that makes this chicken "pink". This is the real deal. Enjoy!
Marinade 1
8-10 tbsp lime juice or vinegar
1 tbsp red chilli powder (the "Indian" one)
1 tbsp salt.
Marinade 2
yogurt (the sour, greek, strained one not the crap you get!)
1-2 inches of ginger (peeled)
4-6 cloves garlic
5 green chillies (the "Indian" ones. Use serranos as a substitute.)
cilantro
2 tsp cloves
2 bay leaves
4-8 green cardamoms
1 tsp mace
1 tsp nutmeg
2 tsp black peppercorns
2 tsp caraway seeds
2 tbsp salt
Recipe
Mix the first marinade. Rub all over the chickens. Leave overnight.
For the second marinade, grind all of "group 3" in a coffee grinder, grind all of "group 2" in a blender, and mix all three together. You should get greenish-white glop with black flecks from all the spices.
Take each piece of chicken from the first marinade, coat them all over with the yogurt marinade. Pour the rest of the stuff over the chickens, and marinate overnight. (The first marinade gets discarded. Yes, this is correct!)
Grill. Keep basting it with the marinade. (It's not the same as a "tandoor" but it's damn close.)
For the eternally harangued-by-their-job-I-have-no-time-to-cook, the bare minimum is 4 hours for the first, and 8 hours for the second (but don't expect it to taste as good as the real deal.)
Friday, July 7, 2006
Corn Chowder
After a short work week, the CC had a hankering for some corn chowder. But it's too hot here in New York to have a heavy meal.
What follows below is not a "true" chowder (no bacon or cream), but it's so unbelievably good that the CC rushed to blog it.
Ingredients
4 leeks (diced coarsely)
12 corn cobs (shucked, kernels removed -- keep 3 cobs, cut in half)
2 yellow bell peppers (diced)
1 potato (diced)
1 bunch parsley
broth (or water)
1 tsp caraway seeds
1 tsp celery seeds
olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Recipe
Fry the leeks until they are soft. Add in the caraway seeds, celery seeds, and black pepper, and fry for 30 seconds or so. Toss in the bell peppers and the potato, and fry for 2 minutes or so. Add the corn cobs, and 4/5th of the corn kernels, and the broth.
Bring to a boil. Skim. Turn down the heat, and simmer for 20 minutes.
Blend the entire mixture with the parsley in a blender. Add it back to the pot, throw in the rest of the corn, and simmer for another 15 minutes.
Serve with crusty bread.
What follows below is not a "true" chowder (no bacon or cream), but it's so unbelievably good that the CC rushed to blog it.
Ingredients
4 leeks (diced coarsely)
12 corn cobs (shucked, kernels removed -- keep 3 cobs, cut in half)
2 yellow bell peppers (diced)
1 potato (diced)
1 bunch parsley
broth (or water)
1 tsp caraway seeds
1 tsp celery seeds
olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Recipe
Fry the leeks until they are soft. Add in the caraway seeds, celery seeds, and black pepper, and fry for 30 seconds or so. Toss in the bell peppers and the potato, and fry for 2 minutes or so. Add the corn cobs, and 4/5th of the corn kernels, and the broth.
Bring to a boil. Skim. Turn down the heat, and simmer for 20 minutes.
Blend the entire mixture with the parsley in a blender. Add it back to the pot, throw in the rest of the corn, and simmer for another 15 minutes.
Serve with crusty bread.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Hiking and Food (part 3b)
The preceding farfalle was followed up by a mushroom risotto. This is the "easy" version (since we're in hiking mode.)
At a future date, the CC will publish a full version (in which you make your own mushroom broth.)
It goes without saying that there's just no comparison.
"Simple" Mushroom Risotto
Ingredients
3 shallots (diced real fine)
2-3 leeks (diced fine, mostly white parts but some green too.)
a variety of mushrooms (button,crimini,shiitake diced -- they will shrink!)
2-3 cups arborio rice
3-4 cups broth (read below if you use commercial broth!)
butter
olive oil
salt and pepper
Recipe
Heat one burner, and keep the broth on a simmer. (I skimmed the broth, you may want to do the same.)
Heat the olive oil, and fry the shallots and the leeks. When they are light golden, add the rice, and stir so that the arborio is liberally coated with olive oil. Fry for 30 seconds or so.
Add the mushrooms, and fry for 3 minutes or so. The mushrooms should give off copious amounts of liquid. Add the salt and pepper.
Now comes the hard part.
Add in a ladeleful of the hot broth, and stir. As the rice absorbs the liquid, keep adding more ladlefuls, and stirring.
The rice should be solid (and lightly sticky) but not "hard".
Serve warm.
In retrospect, even while going hiking, I should've bought some "dried porcinis" (the reconstituted broth would be divine!), and some "parmigiano reggiano".
The CC wishes to apologize to his friends, and hangs his head in shame.
At a future date, the CC will publish a full version (in which you make your own mushroom broth.)
It goes without saying that there's just no comparison.
"Simple" Mushroom Risotto
Ingredients
3 shallots (diced real fine)
2-3 leeks (diced fine, mostly white parts but some green too.)
a variety of mushrooms (button,crimini,shiitake diced -- they will shrink!)
2-3 cups arborio rice
3-4 cups broth (read below if you use commercial broth!)
butter
olive oil
salt and pepper
Recipe
Heat one burner, and keep the broth on a simmer. (I skimmed the broth, you may want to do the same.)
Heat the olive oil, and fry the shallots and the leeks. When they are light golden, add the rice, and stir so that the arborio is liberally coated with olive oil. Fry for 30 seconds or so.
Add the mushrooms, and fry for 3 minutes or so. The mushrooms should give off copious amounts of liquid. Add the salt and pepper.
Now comes the hard part.
Add in a ladeleful of the hot broth, and stir. As the rice absorbs the liquid, keep adding more ladlefuls, and stirring.
The rice should be solid (and lightly sticky) but not "hard".
Serve warm.
In retrospect, even while going hiking, I should've bought some "dried porcinis" (the reconstituted broth would be divine!), and some "parmigiano reggiano".
The CC wishes to apologize to his friends, and hangs his head in shame.
Hiking and food (part 3a)
The next day was a bit of a hiking bust. It poured continuously, and in any case we were in no mood to do a strenuous hike after the previous day's.
However, on the bright side, we had some amazing food.
This recipe is utterly simple but its simplicity belies its brilliance.
Farfalle con piselli
Ingredients
6 shallots (cut into rounds)
1 1/2 packages frozen peas (frozen will do since texture is not important)
lots of basil
salt and pepper
Recipe
Heat up some olive oil, and fry the shallots till they "sweat". Add in a package of the peas, and some water, salt and pepper. Let the peas cook for 5-6 minutes.
Pluck the basil leaves, and dump the above mixture with the leaves into a blender. Blend till smooth, and dump the mixture back into the pot. Add the rest of the peas, and cook for 5-6 minutes. Do not overcook!
Serve the sauce over farfalle, with plenty of black pepper.
A word to the wise.
One of my friends (who shall remain unnamed), in her infinite brilliance (yes! I know I've revealed the gender), decided to skip two out of the three ingredients (shallots and basil.) The consequences of the afore-mentioned are left as an easy exercise to the reader.
However, on the bright side, we had some amazing food.
This recipe is utterly simple but its simplicity belies its brilliance.
Farfalle con piselli
Ingredients
6 shallots (cut into rounds)
1 1/2 packages frozen peas (frozen will do since texture is not important)
lots of basil
salt and pepper
Recipe
Heat up some olive oil, and fry the shallots till they "sweat". Add in a package of the peas, and some water, salt and pepper. Let the peas cook for 5-6 minutes.
Pluck the basil leaves, and dump the above mixture with the leaves into a blender. Blend till smooth, and dump the mixture back into the pot. Add the rest of the peas, and cook for 5-6 minutes. Do not overcook!
Serve the sauce over farfalle, with plenty of black pepper.
A word to the wise.
One of my friends (who shall remain unnamed), in her infinite brilliance (yes! I know I've revealed the gender), decided to skip two out of the three ingredients (shallots and basil.) The consequences of the afore-mentioned are left as an easy exercise to the reader.
Sunday, June 4, 2006
Hiking and food (part 2)
The next day, the CC had the unfortunate responsibility of explaining the non-negotiable rules of hiking to a bunch of supposedly experienced hikers.
Folks got mauled.
Then, the CC got mauled.
After that, the food got mauled.
Sometimes being right means that you have to eat burnt veggie burgers but far better to eat burnt burgers, and espouse some truths than spend your vacation in the morgue.
For the record, if you "broil" something, generally 2 minutes is more than sufficient.
Folks got mauled.
Then, the CC got mauled.
After that, the food got mauled.
Sometimes being right means that you have to eat burnt veggie burgers but far better to eat burnt burgers, and espouse some truths than spend your vacation in the morgue.
For the record, if you "broil" something, generally 2 minutes is more than sufficient.
Hiking and pasta
Next up on the California trail was Yosemite where we carried our food and our water.
The CC got there first (predictably!), and was charged with cooking dinner.
Ingredients
2-3 tbsp olive oil
2 large onions, halved, and cut into ringlets
3 zucchini squash (cut into rounds)
12-20 pattypan squash (cut into quarters)
mint, and basil (cut coarsely by hand)
salt to taste
pepper (lots!)
Recipe
Heat the olive oil, and fry the onions until they are soft and limp. Toss in the squash, and some water, salt to taste, lots and lots of black pepper, cover and let the squash cook. Add the mint and basil at the end. Turn off the heat.
Serve over farfalle (bowtie pasta for the Americans.)
The CC got there first (predictably!), and was charged with cooking dinner.
Ingredients
2-3 tbsp olive oil
2 large onions, halved, and cut into ringlets
3 zucchini squash (cut into rounds)
12-20 pattypan squash (cut into quarters)
mint, and basil (cut coarsely by hand)
salt to taste
pepper (lots!)
Recipe
Heat the olive oil, and fry the onions until they are soft and limp. Toss in the squash, and some water, salt to taste, lots and lots of black pepper, cover and let the squash cook. Add the mint and basil at the end. Turn off the heat.
Serve over farfalle (bowtie pasta for the Americans.)
Saturday, June 3, 2006
Long beans
The CC figured that he should write about the long beans, given how much I like them.
For the Indians in the audience, we're talking about chaudi (and for the non-Indians, you don't really know how to pronounce that "d" so don't even bother!)
The CC just wanted to say that he misses them but how the hell can the CC miss them when they are so easily available in NYC?
OK, he just crave them.
For the Indians in the audience, we're talking about chaudi (and for the non-Indians, you don't really know how to pronounce that "d" so don't even bother!)
The CC just wanted to say that he misses them but how the hell can the CC miss them when they are so easily available in NYC?
OK, he just crave them.
Meyer-Lemon Granita recipe
Ingredients
20 Meyer-lemons
8 tbsp sugar (this is approximate, read below.)
infinite patience (traditionally in short supply!)
Method
Squeeze the lemons, and put the juice through a fine sieve (you only want the liquid.) Add the sugar one tbsp at a time, and stir until it dissolves. You want to end up with a solution that's still quite tart but has a sweet-sour taste (trust me, this works well in the end even as a "dessert" -- the first time the CC made a granita, it was too sweet.)
Now comes the hard part. Put the stuff in a large bowl, and place it in the freezer uncovered. As it starts freezing, stir it up.
Initially, you can wait upto 2-3 hours in summer. After that, you'll need to do it every hour, then every half-hour, then every 15 minutes, until you end up with ice-crystals that are "quite dry" (like powdered snowflakes.)
Scoop and serve in martini glasses. The flavor crystals explode in your mouth.
The Italians may not know how to form a government, but they know how to eat well.
20 Meyer-lemons
8 tbsp sugar (this is approximate, read below.)
infinite patience (traditionally in short supply!)
Method
Squeeze the lemons, and put the juice through a fine sieve (you only want the liquid.) Add the sugar one tbsp at a time, and stir until it dissolves. You want to end up with a solution that's still quite tart but has a sweet-sour taste (trust me, this works well in the end even as a "dessert" -- the first time the CC made a granita, it was too sweet.)
Now comes the hard part. Put the stuff in a large bowl, and place it in the freezer uncovered. As it starts freezing, stir it up.
Initially, you can wait upto 2-3 hours in summer. After that, you'll need to do it every hour, then every half-hour, then every 15 minutes, until you end up with ice-crystals that are "quite dry" (like powdered snowflakes.)
Scoop and serve in martini glasses. The flavor crystals explode in your mouth.
The Italians may not know how to form a government, but they know how to eat well.
Cambodian Food (in the ghetto)
First stop, the day after I arrived was a Cambodian lunch place in some suburban ghetto. Gritty surroundings, lots of barbed-wire, geeks galore from Silicon Valley, and some amazing food.
We ordered a catfish hamok (also spelled as h'mok and amok), and a dish with long beans. (I'm sure I'm not doing justice to the pronunciation.)
The h'mok is fish chunks mixed with coconut milk, and ground coconut meat. It's heavy on the galangal, kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass, and particulary kapi (or gkapi) (fermented shrimp paste.) All of this is wrapped in a banana leaf and steamed.
The aromas are simply sublime! My sister was generous enough to let me have the "first smell".
The CC openly admits his addiction to gkapi (watch for a post on this later), but this is not for the faint of heart, and is definitely an acquired taste.
The CC was also just impressed that the long bean dish contained long beans. Far too often, restaurants substitute French beans (what a copout!)
Talk about an auspicious beginning to a vacation!
We ordered a catfish hamok (also spelled as h'mok and amok), and a dish with long beans. (I'm sure I'm not doing justice to the pronunciation.)
The h'mok is fish chunks mixed with coconut milk, and ground coconut meat. It's heavy on the galangal, kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass, and particulary kapi (or gkapi) (fermented shrimp paste.) All of this is wrapped in a banana leaf and steamed.
The aromas are simply sublime! My sister was generous enough to let me have the "first smell".
The CC openly admits his addiction to gkapi (watch for a post on this later), but this is not for the faint of heart, and is definitely an acquired taste.
The CC was also just impressed that the long bean dish contained long beans. Far too often, restaurants substitute French beans (what a copout!)
Talk about an auspicious beginning to a vacation!
Thursday, June 1, 2006
Ode to a Meyer-lemon granita
It looks like yellow snow,
But it tastes like ambrosia.
Not exactly Keats but it pretty much sums up the situation aptly.
Back from California
I'm back with culinary adventures in tow.
Watch this space for some rather fun food adventures in non-chronological order. (I can't be that conventional!)
Watch this space for some rather fun food adventures in non-chronological order. (I can't be that conventional!)
Monday, May 8, 2006
Instruments, fatties, and other musings
So every once in a while, the CC gets into the mood, and into the nude, and into the...
Hang on! That's not what I wanted to talk about.
Anyway, every once in a while the CC gets into the mood of possessing a kitchen instument that he needs, but since the CC is mortally afraid of becoming one of the Williams-Sonoma crowd, the CC shies away from mortal possession of true-and-tried tactical tools.
The CC happens to be just wrong!
Hail Italy!
We should never have doubted you (as far as food is concerned.) Your governments suck, and have sucked since WWII, but why doubt your food?
Anyway, back to the point.
The CC bought a cheese grater for a party.
The CC also bought some kick-ass parmigiano-reggiano to serve over the risotto.
The CC has been humbled, and acknowledges his need for instruments after understanding the true nature of a cheese grater.
The combination of cheese grater and authentic parmigiano-reggiano over fresh risotto is something to behold!
Here's how it works:
The risotto is served rather warm, the "parmesan" (pardon the Americanism) is shredded fresh with an instrument into such tiny threads that it falls over the rice, and instantly "cooks". The threads of cheese (and they are truly tiny) are so divine that the CC is shocked.
And for you fat-phobic fatties, true parmigiano-reggiano is a hard, skimmed cheese. You probably eat more ten times more fat in one of those crappy "fat-free" yogurts because the US FDA allows companies to advertise "zero" fat if it contains less than one gram of fat per serving.
Even a tablespoon of pure oil is "zero" fat if the CC defines 100,000 servings per tablespoon (get my drift, fatties?)
Consider this a plug for authentic parmigiano-reggiano (and only incidentally, a plug for a good cheese grater.)
Hang on! That's not what I wanted to talk about.
Anyway, every once in a while the CC gets into the mood of possessing a kitchen instument that he needs, but since the CC is mortally afraid of becoming one of the Williams-Sonoma crowd, the CC shies away from mortal possession of true-and-tried tactical tools.
The CC happens to be just wrong!
Hail Italy!
We should never have doubted you (as far as food is concerned.) Your governments suck, and have sucked since WWII, but why doubt your food?
Anyway, back to the point.
The CC bought a cheese grater for a party.
The CC also bought some kick-ass parmigiano-reggiano to serve over the risotto.
The CC has been humbled, and acknowledges his need for instruments after understanding the true nature of a cheese grater.
The combination of cheese grater and authentic parmigiano-reggiano over fresh risotto is something to behold!
Here's how it works:
The risotto is served rather warm, the "parmesan" (pardon the Americanism) is shredded fresh with an instrument into such tiny threads that it falls over the rice, and instantly "cooks". The threads of cheese (and they are truly tiny) are so divine that the CC is shocked.
And for you fat-phobic fatties, true parmigiano-reggiano is a hard, skimmed cheese. You probably eat more ten times more fat in one of those crappy "fat-free" yogurts because the US FDA allows companies to advertise "zero" fat if it contains less than one gram of fat per serving.
Even a tablespoon of pure oil is "zero" fat if the CC defines 100,000 servings per tablespoon (get my drift, fatties?)
Consider this a plug for authentic parmigiano-reggiano (and only incidentally, a plug for a good cheese grater.)
Saturday, May 6, 2006
Dinner at the CC's
•
Seafood risotto
•
Pomegranate granita
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Food of the Gods
When one of the enlightenment figures, Carl Linnaeus, the father of modern taxonomy, completely and utterly loses his reason and christens the seed as theobroma cacao, what more can the CC say?
It is truly the food of the gods.
It is truly the food of the gods.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Food, sex, love
Massaman curry from my beloved,
Redolent of cumin and other spices.
Any man who happens upon its aroma
Is powerless to resist.
♥
Latiang is like the pillow on which I dream
And to the heavens from which I rise,
Yet upon my unsettling return
I find close comfort only with you.
Friday, March 31, 2006
R.I.P.
Edna Lewis (1916-2006)
A bit late, but better late than never!
Most of the current greats owe her more than they honestly acknowledge, and she was ahead of all these new-fangled fads (which are nothing more than old-fashioned tradition in a spanking-new "scientific" bottle.)
A bit late, but better late than never!
Most of the current greats owe her more than they honestly acknowledge, and she was ahead of all these new-fangled fads (which are nothing more than old-fashioned tradition in a spanking-new "scientific" bottle.)
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Tomato Soup (in winter) - Part 4
The "fabled" recipe at long last!
Ingredients
3 lbs tomatoes (chop them in eighths -- fast and simple)
2 large red onions diced coarsely
1 large potato diced coarsely
1 tbsp whole peppercorns
2 bay leaves
2-3 tbsp cumin seeds (read below!)
2 tbsp "home-made" tomato paste (but substitute commercial, you wimps!)
salt to taste
3 tbsp of olive oil
Required Kitchen Instrument
Food mill
Recipe
The recipe is simple but don't try to "hurry" it. Patience is rewarded. You can coax good taste out of crappy-ass winter tomatoes. Trust me!
Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil. Add the onions, and the let them "sweat" (as the Italians say.) When the onions are dark pink (but not caramelized), add 1 tbsp of the cumin, the bay leaves, all the peppercorns and saute for a whole minute.
Then, add the tomatoes, and turn the heat down real low (this is the patience part.) Let the tomatoes slowly "melt", and release their juices. This will try your patience as it will take the better part of anywhere between 20-40 minutes. Resist the temptation to turn up the heat. When the fat rises to the surface...
Skim, baby, skim!
When done skimming, add the potatoes, cover the pot, and let it stew for 20 mins or so, on medium heat. The fat's in the pot. No point in the low heat now.
What you need to do is pass this soupy mixture through a food mill but in the interest of time, effort, and the general hatred of washing up dishes, read below!
In a separate pot, heat 1 tbsp of oil. Add 2 tbsp of cumin, fry for 15 seconds. Then add the tomato paste. While this is frying, place the food mill over the second pot, and add the stuff from the first pot into the food mill, and start rotating.
Rotate, baby, rotate!
When you are bored, toss the crap in the food mill away. Let the other stuff come to a gentle rolling boil for a while, and simmer for 10 minutes.
Add the salt to taste.
Ambrosia, baby, ambrosia!
Honest Confessions:
1. In the interest of being complete, if the soup is too tart which it may very well be, thanks to crappy-ass tomatoes (F**K YOU, genetically modified, crappy-ass tomatoes!), add some sugar to balance the taste. Marcella Hazan, the doyen of Italian food cooking, recommends this, and even though this is an Indian recipe, who am I to argue with her?
(To be fair, if you need to do this with tomatoes at the height of summer, your cooking skills suck!)
2. The CC used 2 potatoes producing a thicker soup, and had to thin it.
3. Don't bother peeling the potatoes. The CC wasted his time. The food mill will take care of it. DOH!
4. I've seen cooks fry curry leaves in the very first step. Didn't have any so didn't add them.
5. I wish I had used more cumin. So will you!
Ingredients
3 lbs tomatoes (chop them in eighths -- fast and simple)
2 large red onions diced coarsely
1 large potato diced coarsely
1 tbsp whole peppercorns
2 bay leaves
2-3 tbsp cumin seeds (read below!)
2 tbsp "home-made" tomato paste (but substitute commercial, you wimps!)
salt to taste
3 tbsp of olive oil
Required Kitchen Instrument
Food mill
Recipe
The recipe is simple but don't try to "hurry" it. Patience is rewarded. You can coax good taste out of crappy-ass winter tomatoes. Trust me!
Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil. Add the onions, and the let them "sweat" (as the Italians say.) When the onions are dark pink (but not caramelized), add 1 tbsp of the cumin, the bay leaves, all the peppercorns and saute for a whole minute.
Then, add the tomatoes, and turn the heat down real low (this is the patience part.) Let the tomatoes slowly "melt", and release their juices. This will try your patience as it will take the better part of anywhere between 20-40 minutes. Resist the temptation to turn up the heat. When the fat rises to the surface...
Skim, baby, skim!
When done skimming, add the potatoes, cover the pot, and let it stew for 20 mins or so, on medium heat. The fat's in the pot. No point in the low heat now.
What you need to do is pass this soupy mixture through a food mill but in the interest of time, effort, and the general hatred of washing up dishes, read below!
In a separate pot, heat 1 tbsp of oil. Add 2 tbsp of cumin, fry for 15 seconds. Then add the tomato paste. While this is frying, place the food mill over the second pot, and add the stuff from the first pot into the food mill, and start rotating.
Rotate, baby, rotate!
When you are bored, toss the crap in the food mill away. Let the other stuff come to a gentle rolling boil for a while, and simmer for 10 minutes.
Add the salt to taste.
Ambrosia, baby, ambrosia!
Honest Confessions:
1. In the interest of being complete, if the soup is too tart which it may very well be, thanks to crappy-ass tomatoes (F**K YOU, genetically modified, crappy-ass tomatoes!), add some sugar to balance the taste. Marcella Hazan, the doyen of Italian food cooking, recommends this, and even though this is an Indian recipe, who am I to argue with her?
(To be fair, if you need to do this with tomatoes at the height of summer, your cooking skills suck!)
2. The CC used 2 potatoes producing a thicker soup, and had to thin it.
3. Don't bother peeling the potatoes. The CC wasted his time. The food mill will take care of it. DOH!
4. I've seen cooks fry curry leaves in the very first step. Didn't have any so didn't add them.
5. I wish I had used more cumin. So will you!
Friday, March 24, 2006
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Monday, March 13, 2006
Sourdough
Sourdough = obsession.
Serious obsession! You know, the adolescent kind? When you rationalize stalking your beloved on the internet. Not that the CC ever did that. They hadn't invented the internet then; you had to use the telephone.
Why is it obsessive?
The answer is rather easy. Complete and utter lack of control. And good cooks tend to be control-freaks (along with good programmers, and good just-about-anything.) Perfection is only a detail away, and if only you could control the details...
Maybe this time, I'll be lucky. Maybe this time, it'll stay. Maybe this time, for the first time, it'll rise...
But, will it? And if not, why not?
You're dealing with a rather delicate symbiosis which you can actually turn into a rather robust symbiosis. (Once again, perfection is only some details away.)
Native yeast (they're in the air), and benign bacteria aid each other, and you can use them to make bread. (this is a complex subject for future discussion.) Suffice to say, for a couple of thousand years nobody has died of botulism thanks to this symbiosis.
Why is it not controllable? Too many variables. Temperature is one, but there are plenty of others.
So sourdough takes the traditional cooking attitude (="take a recipe and make it"), and puts a stake through its heart.
Take that you control-freak, bitch!
No wonder cooks obsess about getting it right (what did I say about obsession?)
Alas, the CC is hardly immune to this obsession. I have tried for two years and I openly admit to being less than perfect. (The failures can be converted into "alternate" successes for rather beautiful chemical reasons. Isn't that peachy?) But if the CC were to be honest, he has only had a handful of successes (and to be fair, more recently than initially.)
Incidentally, sourdough encompasses more than bread. Anyone, from the southern states knows of sourdough pancakes (the real kind not the modern crap!) And traditional idlis, dosas and utthapams from Southern India are actually sourdough.
Why the south in the last two examples? They tend to have warmer climates, and hence are more conducive to sourdough (although San Francisco is an exception for rather technical reasons.)
Is this a blog entry or a lecture? Not sure, really!
Serious obsession! You know, the adolescent kind? When you rationalize stalking your beloved on the internet. Not that the CC ever did that. They hadn't invented the internet then; you had to use the telephone.
Why is it obsessive?
The answer is rather easy. Complete and utter lack of control. And good cooks tend to be control-freaks (along with good programmers, and good just-about-anything.) Perfection is only a detail away, and if only you could control the details...
Maybe this time, I'll be lucky. Maybe this time, it'll stay. Maybe this time, for the first time, it'll rise...
But, will it? And if not, why not?
You're dealing with a rather delicate symbiosis which you can actually turn into a rather robust symbiosis. (Once again, perfection is only some details away.)
Native yeast (they're in the air), and benign bacteria aid each other, and you can use them to make bread. (this is a complex subject for future discussion.) Suffice to say, for a couple of thousand years nobody has died of botulism thanks to this symbiosis.
Why is it not controllable? Too many variables. Temperature is one, but there are plenty of others.
So sourdough takes the traditional cooking attitude (="take a recipe and make it"), and puts a stake through its heart.
Take that you control-freak, bitch!
No wonder cooks obsess about getting it right (what did I say about obsession?)
Alas, the CC is hardly immune to this obsession. I have tried for two years and I openly admit to being less than perfect. (The failures can be converted into "alternate" successes for rather beautiful chemical reasons. Isn't that peachy?) But if the CC were to be honest, he has only had a handful of successes (and to be fair, more recently than initially.)
Incidentally, sourdough encompasses more than bread. Anyone, from the southern states knows of sourdough pancakes (the real kind not the modern crap!) And traditional idlis, dosas and utthapams from Southern India are actually sourdough.
Why the south in the last two examples? They tend to have warmer climates, and hence are more conducive to sourdough (although San Francisco is an exception for rather technical reasons.)
Is this a blog entry or a lecture? Not sure, really!
Thursday, March 9, 2006
One more book (sigh!)
OK, so the CC was so enchanted by the last Jennifer Brennan book, that he has gone ahead and ordered another one.
It's vaguely on Polynesian food entitled Tradewinds and Coconuts, and it's just about as likely to be "faithful", "true", and "authentic" to the cooking of these islands as the original "Raj" cookbook was to Indian food.
But the CC is a sucker (sometimes.)
Alas!
Whither authenticity?
It's vaguely on Polynesian food entitled Tradewinds and Coconuts, and it's just about as likely to be "faithful", "true", and "authentic" to the cooking of these islands as the original "Raj" cookbook was to Indian food.
But the CC is a sucker (sometimes.)
Alas!
Whither authenticity?
Tomato Soup (in winter) - Part 3
So the CC was at this Mexican restaurant in NYC earlier this week, and as soon as he entered, he was delightfully pleased with the warm cumin-scented atmosphere reminding him of the tomato soup of his youth.
What does this have to do with the original "tomato soup" postings? Not much. Think of it as a teaser trailer for the recipe later this week.
Dang, these Hollywood folk know more than a few tricks. I need a control group or something.
What does this have to do with the original "tomato soup" postings? Not much. Think of it as a teaser trailer for the recipe later this week.
Dang, these Hollywood folk know more than a few tricks. I need a control group or something.
Sunday, March 5, 2006
A most enchanting book
The CC is reading a rather enchanting book titled Curries and Bugles : A Memoir and Cookbook of the British Raj.
Whatever one's political opinions on The Raj, it would be most curmudgeonly to deride such a delightfully charming, part nostalgia-laden memoir, part cookbook.
And to top it all, it's filled with the most charming old-fashioned expressions that the CC hasn't heard in a decade.
Of course, it would be completely and utterly infra dig for the CC to actually list them.
The book, actually, goes back to a somewhat-dying tradition in cookbooks. Before they became formally recipe-laden, and filled with hyper-glossy near-pornish pictures, they had an almost whimsical air to them.
The first pan-Italian cookbook belongs to this genre (more on that in a later post.) For example, it describes the author's near death by cholera by a dish eaten at Livorno (it was dysentery really!) followed by a recipe of the dish -- a minestrone.
Wouldn't you just love to use a cookbook like that?
Alas! The modern world of interest-groups, sub-cultures, and Madison Ave.-consultants does not lend itself to such eccentricities.
Hence, the CC's delight at both the form, and the content of the book. Add to that, the recreation of some foods long forgotten from his youth, and you can guess why this post has a rather rhapsodic air about it.
Some rather enjoyable excerpts from the book:
"By the by, an omelette is never cooked to such perfection anywhere as by an Indian cook."
-- Harriet Tytler, An Englishwoman in India.
Yep, it's true. Julia Child, eat your heart out!
On the inscription on the tombstone of an unfortunate Rev. Isadore Lowenthal:
ACCIDENTALLY SHOT BY HIS CHOWKIDAR
Well done, thou good and faithful servant
Delightful, the CC says, simply too delightful for words!
And, for all the Californians (Californicators?) here, she runs a restaurant eponymous with the book in San Diego (although she must be rather old by now.)
Whatever one's political opinions on The Raj, it would be most curmudgeonly to deride such a delightfully charming, part nostalgia-laden memoir, part cookbook.
And to top it all, it's filled with the most charming old-fashioned expressions that the CC hasn't heard in a decade.
Of course, it would be completely and utterly infra dig for the CC to actually list them.
The book, actually, goes back to a somewhat-dying tradition in cookbooks. Before they became formally recipe-laden, and filled with hyper-glossy near-pornish pictures, they had an almost whimsical air to them.
The first pan-Italian cookbook belongs to this genre (more on that in a later post.) For example, it describes the author's near death by cholera by a dish eaten at Livorno (it was dysentery really!) followed by a recipe of the dish -- a minestrone.
Wouldn't you just love to use a cookbook like that?
Alas! The modern world of interest-groups, sub-cultures, and Madison Ave.-consultants does not lend itself to such eccentricities.
Hence, the CC's delight at both the form, and the content of the book. Add to that, the recreation of some foods long forgotten from his youth, and you can guess why this post has a rather rhapsodic air about it.
Some rather enjoyable excerpts from the book:
"By the by, an omelette is never cooked to such perfection anywhere as by an Indian cook."
-- Harriet Tytler, An Englishwoman in India.
Yep, it's true. Julia Child, eat your heart out!
On the inscription on the tombstone of an unfortunate Rev. Isadore Lowenthal:
ACCIDENTALLY SHOT BY HIS CHOWKIDAR
Well done, thou good and faithful servant
Delightful, the CC says, simply too delightful for words!
And, for all the Californians (Californicators?) here, she runs a restaurant eponymous with the book in San Diego (although she must be rather old by now.)
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Parisian Bakery (in NYC)
The CC doesn't even like desserts, but he does confess a hankering for both croissants and baguettes. Preferably, the former for breakfast, and the latter any time of the day. Preferably, to excess. Preferably. to serious excess!
Sadly, what passes in this country for either, would earn a place against the wall in the benevolent czarship run by the CC.
But NYC is different, right? We all knew that, right?
There seems to be this rocking place in Harlem by French-Senegalese escapees (aka immigrants) from Paris. My friend who flies to Paris every two weeks claims it's better than anything she ate/eats/has eaten in Paris (and she, my good friends, is a foodie.)
There's only one way to convince you, my gentle readers, there's only one way!
So if you want a taste, you'll just have to visit.
Sadly, what passes in this country for either, would earn a place against the wall in the benevolent czarship run by the CC.
But NYC is different, right? We all knew that, right?
There seems to be this rocking place in Harlem by French-Senegalese escapees (aka immigrants) from Paris. My friend who flies to Paris every two weeks claims it's better than anything she ate/eats/has eaten in Paris (and she, my good friends, is a foodie.)
There's only one way to convince you, my gentle readers, there's only one way!
So if you want a taste, you'll just have to visit.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Tomato Soup (in winter) - Part 2
Just so you know, I cheated, but I cheated less than the current breed of drug-addled Olympic athletes.
Did I have a choice?
NO!
Tomatoes in this country, for the most part, suck! They suck so much, that the CC will take good tomatoes over sex in this country. (*)
In every other afore-mentioned "good-tomato" country, the CC will take sex over tomatoes.
Anyway... back to business. The soup, and how did I cheat?
A large spoonful of home-made summer "Heirloom-tomato" paste was used. But, that's it. No more tricks except good old-fashioned technique.
The soup rocked even with the pathetic "I-just-flew-in-from-Israel" tomatoes. Nothing against Israel. Nothing against flying. Certainly, nothing against the sucky-ass tomatoes.
Why do they have to pick the tomatoes in perfectly warm countries with great tomatoes while they are still raw? (Answer: to fly them across continents.)
This globalization stuff is beginning to suck, at least for food.
But, the CC doesn't mean to rant, and the CC has to consume some of the afore-mentioned tomato soup so as to get in to work in on time tomorrow, so tune in to hear the exciting saga of the "Tomato soup." (**)
(*) Some prefer chocolate but "de gustibus non disputandum est."
(**) Assuming you find it exciting.
Did I have a choice?
NO!
Tomatoes in this country, for the most part, suck! They suck so much, that the CC will take good tomatoes over sex in this country. (*)
In every other afore-mentioned "good-tomato" country, the CC will take sex over tomatoes.
Anyway... back to business. The soup, and how did I cheat?
A large spoonful of home-made summer "Heirloom-tomato" paste was used. But, that's it. No more tricks except good old-fashioned technique.
The soup rocked even with the pathetic "I-just-flew-in-from-Israel" tomatoes. Nothing against Israel. Nothing against flying. Certainly, nothing against the sucky-ass tomatoes.
Why do they have to pick the tomatoes in perfectly warm countries with great tomatoes while they are still raw? (Answer: to fly them across continents.)
This globalization stuff is beginning to suck, at least for food.
But, the CC doesn't mean to rant, and the CC has to consume some of the afore-mentioned tomato soup so as to get in to work in on time tomorrow, so tune in to hear the exciting saga of the "Tomato soup." (**)
(*) Some prefer chocolate but "de gustibus non disputandum est."
(**) Assuming you find it exciting.
Tomato Soup (in winter)
So now that everyone knows that the CC is a strange breed, a well-trained Indian chef-wannabe, etc. (Not that there were any losers reading this blog who didn't know that!)
The CC ventured out to make that age old hoary "Raj" relic known as "tomato soup" (perhaps we should call it "a la indienne"?)
Let's get down to the details.
Tomatoes in winter suck, so why the hell is the CC making "tomato soup" in winter?
Two reasons.
One, my hand was forced (more on this below.) Two, any retard (*) from Italy, India, Mexico (**) can make good "tomato anything" in summer. So there's a challenge, and never let it be said that the CC has ever shied away from a challenge!
More on the forced hand. The Chinese wife of an Indian ex-colleague wanted to know how tomato soups tasted so good in India. The CC quizzed her, and he quizzed her hard till she cried out, "I don't know."
Of course, at that point, the CC knew what she wanted.
She had tasted the vision, and I'm sure you, gentle readers, and one insane bitch, want to partake of the same.
At this spot, the CC has decided to borrow from the grammar of television. Namely, watch this spot for more...
(*) I'm not PC. There are too many retard-chefs and chef-wannabes with no technique.
(**) The only countries that I know that have good tomatoes, in alphabetical order.
The CC ventured out to make that age old hoary "Raj" relic known as "tomato soup" (perhaps we should call it "a la indienne"?)
Let's get down to the details.
Tomatoes in winter suck, so why the hell is the CC making "tomato soup" in winter?
Two reasons.
One, my hand was forced (more on this below.) Two, any retard (*) from Italy, India, Mexico (**) can make good "tomato anything" in summer. So there's a challenge, and never let it be said that the CC has ever shied away from a challenge!
More on the forced hand. The Chinese wife of an Indian ex-colleague wanted to know how tomato soups tasted so good in India. The CC quizzed her, and he quizzed her hard till she cried out, "I don't know."
Of course, at that point, the CC knew what she wanted.
She had tasted the vision, and I'm sure you, gentle readers, and one insane bitch, want to partake of the same.
At this spot, the CC has decided to borrow from the grammar of television. Namely, watch this spot for more...
(*) I'm not PC. There are too many retard-chefs and chef-wannabes with no technique.
(**) The only countries that I know that have good tomatoes, in alphabetical order.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Crappy Valentine's Day
So the CC decided that a few days after the annual massacre of roses that yields men their annual blowjobs, it was time to rescue the roses for a higher cause.
Yes, the goal was cooking, and the object was to find organic, unsprayed roses to cook with.
My Persian cookbook had long been languishing in the boudoir (*), and every once in a while she made seductive noises while shaking her silky spine. She had earned her roses.
The first few places were rather uneventful. They didn't carry organic flowers.
Finally, the CC arrived at a store that sold organic flowers. The conversation is reproduced for your infinite amusement.
"So why do you want unsprayed roses?"
"I plan to eat them."
(Pause in conversation.)
I rapidly realized that I should've said, "I plan to cook with them", and so hastily corrected the awkward slip.
(More pause.)
"Not the roses, just the petals."
(Pause while giving me the "cretinous wanker" look.)
Somebody was clearly not having a good day but it's not like I said that I was planning to gamahauche her dead grandmother!
"So what kinda food is it?
"Persian."
(This was clearly becoming a waste of time.)
"So are you Persian then?
Jesus wept.
This woman in New York City had all the cultural sensitivity and intellectual depth of a lobotomized amoeba.
The question, "Are you from Oklahoma then?" floated through my mind but then realizing that all major religions have prohibitions against mistreating the mentally-deficient (particularly lobotomized amoebas), I just smiled beatifically.
Plus, I needed those goddamn roses.
I have just one question for this woman, "Do you have to be Austrian to like Mozart? Irish to like Joyce? Do you? Do you?"
It turns out she didn't have those roses.
In retrospect, I should've realized that this was an "X factor." The chromosome strikes back! No male florist would've followed this line of conversation.
You ask why, gentle reader? Do you? Do you?
Firstly, a male florist would be gay. Secondly, given the afore-mentioned attribute, they would've had a larger universe of edibleness. After all, if you include edible underwear, mere flowers can hardly be surprising! Thirdly, they would flirt with you which would both be good for business, and who knows if you might get invited to the dinner of the roses, and who knows what other friends there might be at that dinner, and who knows if you might find yourself romping later that imagined night in Persian (or non-Persian) delight?
No, it was definitely the "X factor."
As I walked home, mildly miffed and definitely dejected, I would love to tell you, kind reader, that a gentle drizzle commenced as if to commiserate.
But, no!
It was a gorgeous New York night, mild weather, gently darkening skies. Precisely, the kind of night that makes girls from Oklahoma on their first church trip to New York fall in love with the city, and find a rental, and call mamma to say that they ain't coming back.
In short, the gods are not without a sense of irony!
As for my sweet rose of Persia, she has been banished to the bookshelf, and the quest for organic, unsprayed roses continues...
(*) bouder (v. intr. Fr.), to sulk, to be sullen.
Yes, the goal was cooking, and the object was to find organic, unsprayed roses to cook with.
My Persian cookbook had long been languishing in the boudoir (*), and every once in a while she made seductive noises while shaking her silky spine. She had earned her roses.
The first few places were rather uneventful. They didn't carry organic flowers.
Finally, the CC arrived at a store that sold organic flowers. The conversation is reproduced for your infinite amusement.
"So why do you want unsprayed roses?"
"I plan to eat them."
(Pause in conversation.)
I rapidly realized that I should've said, "I plan to cook with them", and so hastily corrected the awkward slip.
(More pause.)
"Not the roses, just the petals."
(Pause while giving me the "cretinous wanker" look.)
Somebody was clearly not having a good day but it's not like I said that I was planning to gamahauche her dead grandmother!
"So what kinda food is it?
"Persian."
(This was clearly becoming a waste of time.)
"So are you Persian then?
Jesus wept.
This woman in New York City had all the cultural sensitivity and intellectual depth of a lobotomized amoeba.
The question, "Are you from Oklahoma then?" floated through my mind but then realizing that all major religions have prohibitions against mistreating the mentally-deficient (particularly lobotomized amoebas), I just smiled beatifically.
Plus, I needed those goddamn roses.
I have just one question for this woman, "Do you have to be Austrian to like Mozart? Irish to like Joyce? Do you? Do you?"
It turns out she didn't have those roses.
In retrospect, I should've realized that this was an "X factor." The chromosome strikes back! No male florist would've followed this line of conversation.
You ask why, gentle reader? Do you? Do you?
Firstly, a male florist would be gay. Secondly, given the afore-mentioned attribute, they would've had a larger universe of edibleness. After all, if you include edible underwear, mere flowers can hardly be surprising! Thirdly, they would flirt with you which would both be good for business, and who knows if you might get invited to the dinner of the roses, and who knows what other friends there might be at that dinner, and who knows if you might find yourself romping later that imagined night in Persian (or non-Persian) delight?
No, it was definitely the "X factor."
As I walked home, mildly miffed and definitely dejected, I would love to tell you, kind reader, that a gentle drizzle commenced as if to commiserate.
But, no!
It was a gorgeous New York night, mild weather, gently darkening skies. Precisely, the kind of night that makes girls from Oklahoma on their first church trip to New York fall in love with the city, and find a rental, and call mamma to say that they ain't coming back.
In short, the gods are not without a sense of irony!
As for my sweet rose of Persia, she has been banished to the bookshelf, and the quest for organic, unsprayed roses continues...
(*) bouder (v. intr. Fr.), to sulk, to be sullen.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Sliced Apples
The New York Times has an article on pre-sliced apples "bathed in an all-natural flavorless sealant" so that the apples "won't turn brown".
It turns out that the apple "is simply too poorly designed for today's busy eater".
Doesn't Mother Nature realize how busy today's eaters are? And why doesn't she figure out that limp-wristed modern Americans can't summon up the wrist-actions to actually cut up an apple?
I mean, how lazy do you have to be so that you can't cut up an apple into eight pieces, slice the seeds off, and put it on a plate? (The assumption is that for various reasons, say, dentures, braces, etc. you can't just wash it and bite in.)
Here is the stroke-by-stroke action:
[1] The first cut halves the apple. (1 stroke.)
[2] Lay each half down, and slice again (2 strokes.)
[3] For each quarter, two more strokes for eighths (4 strokes.)
[4] Hold each piece up, and slice the crap off (8 strokes.)
That's 15 strokes, and only because you want each piece to look nice.
The CC just wants to vent spleen at the fools.
It turns out that the apple "is simply too poorly designed for today's busy eater".
Doesn't Mother Nature realize how busy today's eaters are? And why doesn't she figure out that limp-wristed modern Americans can't summon up the wrist-actions to actually cut up an apple?
I mean, how lazy do you have to be so that you can't cut up an apple into eight pieces, slice the seeds off, and put it on a plate? (The assumption is that for various reasons, say, dentures, braces, etc. you can't just wash it and bite in.)
Here is the stroke-by-stroke action:
[1] The first cut halves the apple. (1 stroke.)
[2] Lay each half down, and slice again (2 strokes.)
[3] For each quarter, two more strokes for eighths (4 strokes.)
[4] Hold each piece up, and slice the crap off (8 strokes.)
That's 15 strokes, and only because you want each piece to look nice.
The CC just wants to vent spleen at the fools.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
A Note on Technique
So everyone rants on the French for their high-fat food. Bullshit!
There are two things that Americans (and all non-French, in general) need to learn. Technique counts!
Yes, there's a lot of butter in French cooking. But, there's also a lot of skimming in French cooking.
In order to understand my rather incoherent point, we need to understand a few basic chemistry facts.
Firstly, fat and water do not mix. Secondly, they will mix if you beat them up real fine. This is called a suspension. They haven't really mixed, it's a bit of an illusion. Think vinaigrette!
Anyway, French cooking calls for stuff to be heated on a very low flame after a point. This is very, very important.
The fat and the starch bind and rise to the top, and therein lies the skimming part. This is as true of classic French Onion Soup as of Bombay's Pav Bhaji.
Americans suck at patience, and in this specfic case, the lack of patience translates into fatty food. Heating your food at high heat breaks up the fat molecules, and suspends them into tiny globules into the water.
Anyway, the moral of the story is to enjoy your fat, and then heat stuff real slow (yes, it will test your patience), and skim away.
The French know a few things, and patience is one of them!
There are two things that Americans (and all non-French, in general) need to learn. Technique counts!
Yes, there's a lot of butter in French cooking. But, there's also a lot of skimming in French cooking.
In order to understand my rather incoherent point, we need to understand a few basic chemistry facts.
Firstly, fat and water do not mix. Secondly, they will mix if you beat them up real fine. This is called a suspension. They haven't really mixed, it's a bit of an illusion. Think vinaigrette!
Anyway, French cooking calls for stuff to be heated on a very low flame after a point. This is very, very important.
The fat and the starch bind and rise to the top, and therein lies the skimming part. This is as true of classic French Onion Soup as of Bombay's Pav Bhaji.
Americans suck at patience, and in this specfic case, the lack of patience translates into fatty food. Heating your food at high heat breaks up the fat molecules, and suspends them into tiny globules into the water.
Anyway, the moral of the story is to enjoy your fat, and then heat stuff real slow (yes, it will test your patience), and skim away.
The French know a few things, and patience is one of them!
Today, I saw an almost perfect book concept. They had the "Collected Works of Joyce" in these little itty-bitty volumes. Perfect for slipping into a winter jacket.
Never mind the Joyce part. I think the idea is really cool. You can slip it into your pocket, and read it on the subway, etc. The shape and size of standard books is too inconvenient as far as both portability and jackets are concerned. (This is the main reason I like the concept of e-books; not the sucky-ass current implementations thereof nor the cryptographic aspect!)
If the books hadn't been on the "Gifts for Valentine" table, I would've bought them.
I mean, who the fuck buys Finnegans Wake (split up into itsy-bitsy pieces) for their valentine? (and that too for a fucking holiday invented by a greeting card company early last century, before Joyce wrote his masterpiece!)
It was packaged for a New York Irish audience, and they'll never read the books either! There was even a fucking shamrock on the covers.
Haul me to the porcelain goddess already!
On Orgies
So I woke up this morning feeling vaguely dissatisfied, and thought to myself that it had been a while since I'd indulged in an orgy. A blizzard was coming, and the thought of being sequestered in my apartment all alone was unbearable.
Naturally, I hauled my ass (sic) down to Union Square, home of the nubile NYU hipster-wannabes (and their aviator glasses) even though gentrification seems to be taking its toll on them.
After two hours of delicious delight, eyes glazed over with happiness, I hauled my treasure trove of books back to my apartment, Yes, it had been an orgiastic display of inconspicuous consumption (*) at Strand Bookstore.
Now, I'm ready to face the blizzard holed up in my apartment armed with everything from Buñuel to Baking. I even bought myself a book of food porn (**) on impulse, and another which is intelligent food porn (***)
My wallet feels lighter but I feel strangely euphoric!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
(*) Something most Wall Streeters wouldn't know about.
(**) Yes, this exists! Food porn is to food what regular (or irregular) porn is to regular (or irregular) sex. You should learn how to drop it in casual conversation like, "My friend has a fabulous kitchen but all she does is reheat pizzas because except for the cookbooks I gave her, all she owns is food porn." (No resemblance to living characters.)
(***) Intelligent food porn is porn, of course, but it may teach you a few new tricks (sic). Think of it as a Gastronomic Kama Sutra.
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