Culantro

Not cilantro. Culantro.

The CC hasn't lost his marbles (yet.)

Culantro (or eryngium foetidum, if you wanna get all technical.)


It's delicious. More aggressively coriandery and peppery in taste, and absolutely crucial for certain Mexican dishes.

Well, now that the CC has finally figured out how to source it without having to wander all the way to "distant" Queens, he'll be using it a lot more.

Sprouting (An Addendum)

The CC should mention that normally you won't need to mist the cheese cloth more than once even in the height of a brutal summer because the sprouting process releases so much moisture.

This once again emphasises the advantage of cloth over plastic. The ability to evaporate, and effectively reach an equilibrium with the surrounding air.

In winter, whatever you do, do not mist the cheesecloth. You will end up with mold.

Here's a classic Gujarati recipe for sprouted moth/matki beans. The word is hard to transcribe so here's a picture instead:


The beans sprout easily, and are crazy delicious.

For the record, the CC hates the commercial sprouts. For one they are "over-sprouted" (they are almost plants.) The taste doesn't compare to the mild delicate taste of freshly sprouted beans (and the CC will go into the science in a future post.)

But let's get back to the recipe.

The recipe is a classic breakfast recipe. Yep, the vast majority of the world prefers freshly made breakfast, and the CC is one of them. Eat your heart out, land of peace and granola!

Ingredients

2-3 cups sprouted moth
1 tbsp dhanajeeru (roasted coriander+cumin, powdered)
1 tsp red chilli powder (go easy!)
pinch of asafoetida
salt (to taste)
lots of lime juice (to taste)

Recipe

The recipe is kinda trivial.

Fry some oil in a pan. Toss in the asafoetida; wait 5 seconds; toss in the dhanajeeru and the red chilli powder, and the sprouts. Saute for 10-20 seconds. Add water (about 1 1/2 cup.)

Let it simmer on low heat until the beans are edible. You may need to add more water. You're going to have to play this one by mouth.

Toss in the lime juice at the end.

The stuff is supposed to be slightly watery (but not soupy) at the end. The taste should consist of the spices, a very mild heat, and enough tartness to cut the heat, and just a tad more. None should dominate (this is still breakfast we're talking about!)

You can just eat it by itself but the CC loves to soak up the juices with a nice crusty baguette (how's that for multiculturism?)

Sprouting

Well, the CC loves sprouts, and many a year ago, he was presented with a sprouter by one of his aunts.

It's one of these plastic trays where you can place the sprouting beans in the top two trays, and a tiny amount of water in the lowest tray, and the whole thing is supposed to work out.

Except it doesn't.

It's warm enough in New York in the summer but the CC's apartment doesn't get enough direct sunlight for the whole thing to work out. If the CC lived in Italy, or India, or Mexico, it would work out but it doesn't.

So the CC has come up with an alternate plan. Unsurprisingly, this is modern take on a classic method which brings the CC to ask the eternal question, "Why on earth do we fuck with perfection?"

Soak the beans overnight. Wash them again. Put them in a cheese cloth, and lay them where they get plenty of sunlight. Every 12 hours or whenever the cheese cloth gets dry, mist it, drain it again, and leave it well alone. Different beans will sprout in different cycles. Some take 36 hours, and others 60 hours from start to finish.

The cheese cloth is cloth enough to stay wet, and porous enough to not retain enough water to allow it to get moldy. (The classic technique was to use a linen cloth. Same idea.)

You'll get perfect sprouts each time. No plastics need apply.

Rules for buying cookbooks

1. Never ever buy a cookbook for the pictures. Never, ever!
   
2. Remember that techniques and culture count more than specific recipes.
   
3. Never buy a book with too broad a mandate (World Cuisine, Fish & Shellfish), or too narrow a one (Oysters, Dum Pukht).
   
4. Never buy "celebrity" books unless they offer technique, and even in that case be cynical, very cynical!
   
5. Remember that most cookbook authors like amateur novelists only have one book in them.

Ramps

They are not garlic. They are not spring garlic. They are not leeks. They are not even wild onions.

Capiche?!?

They are very hard to get but the CC desperately wants some. Anyone here wanna hook the CC up?

Farmers' Market Sweep (Part 2)

The recipe for your delectable pleasure:

Ingredients

Pesto

basil leaves
spring garlic
walnuts (yep! it's more traditional)
olive oil
salt

peeled fava beans (prepped as described here.)

linguini or spaghetti (cooked al dente)

Recipe

Should be obvious but here goes nothing.

Grind the pesto.

Mix. Serve. Slurp. Enjoy.

An Immodest Apologia

As the years have evolved, and the CC looks back upon earlier post entries (and before that, emails), he notes that some of the recipes are surprisingly jejune.

"Did I really used to make that?"

As the CC's knowledge of food, and particularly technique deepens, it goes without saying earlier blog entries start looking either insubstantial, or incorrect, or horrors! horribly wrong.

But that's how knowledge works. We wish we were born knowing this information but we are not, and hence, no surprise O surprises, we must learn the hard way.

What's surprising is that, in looking back, you find that a surprising amount of emotional energy and psychological history is tied up to food.

"Remember the time ... was made? And for X!"

The CC has entire dishes that he seldom revisits because of evenings that went horribly wrong (for reasons that seldom involve food.)

Food and cooking form a strange personal trajectory of discovery and knowledge. Certain pasts are best not revisited, just as other pasts are to be rightly celebrated.

Perhaps it's best to not apologize for our juvenilia.