One of the great things about "fusion" cooking is how seamless it can actually be.
Canned tuna is not exactly the most exotic of ingredients. It's quite boring and bourgeois and very middle-American. We're just going to use Sri Lankan magic to amp it up a few notches.
There's nothing new about Sri Lankan spices either. They're all there in India but it's the combinations that are new and as the CC has pointed out endlessly, this is just a combinatorial game.
You're most likely to encounter this stuff as "fish cutlets" — the mixture is deep-fried. However, a little dig underneath the surface and you see it also as "fish patties" and "fish rolls" and "fish balls".
There's also the ubiquitous malu paan which is the same fish filling inside a bread that is baked.
For the record, the paan is from the Portuguese pão and is the same as the Japanese パン (pan), the Filipino pandesal (bread with salt), and the Indian paav (a much more accurate transcription of pão.) The Portuguese spread the cult of yeasty bread baking all along South-East Asia.
What matters, of course, is the filling at the center of these concepts.
All the CC has done is to take the patties and stick them in a burger bun (which is vastly simpler) and achieves the same purpose.
Dinner is served.
Ingredients
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp coriander seeds
1/2 tsp fennel seeds
1 tsp black pepper
1 sprig curry leaves
1 piece of fresh turmeric (or 1 tsp ground turmeric)
1" ginger
4-5 green chilis
2 large potatoes
1 can tuna
1 medium-sized onion (diced finely)
cilantro (finely chopped)
1 lime
salt (to taste)
Note 1: The combination of cumin, coriander, and fennel in the ratio 2:2:1 along with ground turmeric is often used in Sri Lankan cooking particularly in dishes involving fish. It gives it that characteristic "Sri Lankan" taste.
Note 2: While this mixture is freely available in Sri Lanka pre-made, the CC assumes that the majority of the audience will not have access to this. Also, if you're going to add black pepper to the final mix, you might as well grind it all together.
Note 3: Fresh turmeric adds a complexity that ground turmeric simply doesn't. The CC vastly prefers the former but feel free to use the later.
Recipe
Grind the spices to a fine powder.
Grind the ginger, green chilis, and turmeric to a paste. (If you grind the spices in a mortar and pestle, you can do this in the same step.)
Boil the potatoes in water until tender. Peel and mash gently.
Heat some oil in a pan. Add the diced onions and curry leaves and fry for a bit until the onions have softened. Add the spices and ground paste and fry till the raw smell has dissipated. Roughly 2 minutes.
Add the tuna from the can and break it up. Let it cook for 4-5 minutes. Add the boiled potatoes and mix it all well together.
(If you are going to deep-fry into "fish balls", make it drier than normal. Otherwise it should be wet enough to form into patties.)
Dump the whole stuff into a bowl. Let it cool for a bit. Pick out the curry leaves and discard. (They don't do this in Sri Lanka but then the leaves there are more tender than the ones found here.)
Add the chopped cilantro and the juice of one lime and crush gently using a potato masher. Mix and check for salt.
To make the patties, you can just either pan-fry them with some oil (which is the way the CC prefers) or for a fancier richer taste, do the same after an egg-wash and coated with breadcrumbs.
Monday, October 30, 2017
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Three-Culture Octopus
The CC briefly worked at a job whose main redeeming feature was the absolutely killer Korean grocery store across the street. The store was always crowded any time of the day or night with the stock continuously being refreshed since it was small in that New York-kinda way.
One of the "features" was that they almost always had baby octopus for purchase and it was extremely cheap. (It was frozen and then thawed but given the rather tough nature of octopus in general, this was a feature not a flaw.)
This recipe pulls out all the stops from three cuisines to make a completely elegant meal.
The CC generally serves it with a vegetable-heavy side dish like mixed vegetables in vinaigrette but he's also served it with a cauliflower gratin successfully. You could also make a great pasta out of it.
What are the tricks?
First make a light dashi. In this, dump carrots, onions and black peppercorns à la française and poach the baby octopus until tender.
(You can store the octopus in the fridge after this for a few days after this step. It allows you to scale. Never let it be said that CC doesn't adore convenience like the rest of the world!)
Finally, stir-fry it with anchovies and tomato paste quickly at the last minute and serve.
Why do the tricks work?
Firstly — umami.
Secondly, the poaching with carrots and onions gives it this sweetness that is not possible just otherwise. (It also allows you to scale effortlessly. As easy to cook for eight as it is for two.)
Finally, the anchovies and tomato paste add even more umami to the mix.
Ingredients
(serves 4)
16-20 baby octopus(es)†
1 small piece konbu
1 small carrot
1 small onion
1 tbsp black peppercorns
salt
1 anchovy
1 tbsp tomato paste
olive oil
Note: Frequently, the octopus is called to be poached using red wine. The tannins in the wine definitely give it a specific taste and structure and the wine-water azeotrope lowers the boiling point in the fish-cooking style. However, the CC finds the final product to be less flexible as far as adopting it to different ideas afterwards so he skips it.
Recipe
Heat up some water with the konbu. Right before it comes to boil, remove the konbu (otherwise it will turn bitter.) Add the carrots, onions, black peppercorns, and salt, and bring to a simmer.
Add the baby octopus and cook until tender. Roughly 25 minutes. The CC sometimes stops it early if he wants the octopus to have more of a bite. (This really is personal preference.)
Fish out the octopus and set aside.
(You can filter the broth and store it for later use. Discard the solids.)
Heat up some olive oil in a skillet. Add the anchovy and fry for a bit. Add the tomato paste and fry until it gives off an aroma. Add the octopus and fry for about 3-4 minutes. Serve.
† The plural of octopus is octopuses or since it's derived from the Greek — octopodi. It is not under any circumstance octopii since it's not a Latin word (like radius) but a Greek one. Thank you!
One of the "features" was that they almost always had baby octopus for purchase and it was extremely cheap. (It was frozen and then thawed but given the rather tough nature of octopus in general, this was a feature not a flaw.)
This recipe pulls out all the stops from three cuisines to make a completely elegant meal.
The CC generally serves it with a vegetable-heavy side dish like mixed vegetables in vinaigrette but he's also served it with a cauliflower gratin successfully. You could also make a great pasta out of it.
What are the tricks?
First make a light dashi. In this, dump carrots, onions and black peppercorns à la française and poach the baby octopus until tender.
(You can store the octopus in the fridge after this for a few days after this step. It allows you to scale. Never let it be said that CC doesn't adore convenience like the rest of the world!)
Finally, stir-fry it with anchovies and tomato paste quickly at the last minute and serve.
Why do the tricks work?
Firstly — umami.
Secondly, the poaching with carrots and onions gives it this sweetness that is not possible just otherwise. (It also allows you to scale effortlessly. As easy to cook for eight as it is for two.)
Finally, the anchovies and tomato paste add even more umami to the mix.
Ingredients
(serves 4)
16-20 baby octopus(es)†
1 small piece konbu
1 small carrot
1 small onion
1 tbsp black peppercorns
salt
1 anchovy
1 tbsp tomato paste
olive oil
Note: Frequently, the octopus is called to be poached using red wine. The tannins in the wine definitely give it a specific taste and structure and the wine-water azeotrope lowers the boiling point in the fish-cooking style. However, the CC finds the final product to be less flexible as far as adopting it to different ideas afterwards so he skips it.
Recipe
Heat up some water with the konbu. Right before it comes to boil, remove the konbu (otherwise it will turn bitter.) Add the carrots, onions, black peppercorns, and salt, and bring to a simmer.
Add the baby octopus and cook until tender. Roughly 25 minutes. The CC sometimes stops it early if he wants the octopus to have more of a bite. (This really is personal preference.)
Fish out the octopus and set aside.
(You can filter the broth and store it for later use. Discard the solids.)
Heat up some olive oil in a skillet. Add the anchovy and fry for a bit. Add the tomato paste and fry until it gives off an aroma. Add the octopus and fry for about 3-4 minutes. Serve.
† The plural of octopus is octopuses or since it's derived from the Greek — octopodi. It is not under any circumstance octopii since it's not a Latin word (like radius) but a Greek one. Thank you!
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Fruit Salad
The CC just adores the name mostly because it totally lies about the underlying subject — well, maybe not about the "fruit" part — but this ain't no bloody salad!
This Indian dish has so much amazing science and trickery inside of it that it's worthy of the slipperiest of slippery gods. (Oh, Agni! Oh, Loki!)
What is it?
Fruits in a milk reduction with complex spicing.
When stated like that, it sounds so boring which it totally is not. It's a masterpiece of complex chemistry with that assured magician's sleight of hand which veers it towards genius.
One day the CC returned to his apartment where his roommate greeted him sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I ate it all. I couldn't resist."
The CC knew even back then the kinda effect this dessert has on people so he just said, "Why don't you go shopping? We'll make it again, and we'll make a party of it on Friday?"
And we partied.
He grilled the steaks, his girlfriend (now wife) cooked the rest of the meal, and the CC had already spent his time earlier reducing milk for dessert. We were poor graduate students but we had a blast.
How does it work?
You reduce whole un-homogenized milk until it resembles a thick soup. You add cardamom, saffron, and slivered almonds. Then you cool it down till it's really ice-cold. You add fruits in a bowl, pour the soup all over it and eat it.
When the CC added the citrus fruits to the bowl, the roommate yelled, "It's gonna curdle." Logical thinking but dead wrong! That's the magic trick.
When the proteins are denatured and the final product ice-cold, the citrus doesn't have enough time to make the milk curdle. Eat it right away or GTFO, as the kids might say these days.
The more variety of fruits you add the better. The CC prefers apples, oranges, pomegranates. You may prefer something else. Go nuts!
(The citrus fruits must be peeled. The tannins in the skin have a higher probability of making it curdle.)
What's the problem?
It's hard work. It's an insane amount of work specifically since the kinda burners that we have in apartments are rather puny.
All you're doing in the most important step is "reducing" milk i.e. you're removing the water from the milk and simultaneously denaturing the proteins.
This is one of the truly rare cases where the CC is going to talk about specific equipment. You are best off with a enamel-coated cast-iron pot — something like a Le Creuset.
There's a reason for this. The CC grew up with this dish. It took hours and hours and hours and hours of stirring. It always does. Back in the day, the CC thought that having a book would be an antidote which was logical until he dropped the book into the flames and the house almost caught on fire. Not so great after all.
What's so great about the enamel-coated iron pot is that it heats the milk uniformly. From the sides as well as the bottom. The milk bubbles away at a uniform rate. You stir occasionally and try not to worry too much.
You'll worry anyway.
You want the milk to reduce by half. It'll change color because the water goes away and the bright white milk turns cream-colored.
The CC wants to point out that most Indian desserts involve reducing milk into various levels of submission. When looked at in that light, this is the easy end of the spectrum!
Ingredients
(serves 6)
2 gallons whole milk
sugar
6 cardamom pods
saffron
1/4 cup slivered almonds
1 orange - segmented, skin peeled
1 apple - cut into cubes
1 pomegranate - seeds separated
Note 1: The product itself is not amenable to storage but the milk mixture absolutely is. You can make more and just pour it over the fruits right before serving.
Note 2: When you serve it, it's great if you can chill the bowls ahead of time. It's not strictly necessary but it's nice.
Recipe
Heat up the milk in a pot. When it comes to a boil, reduce the heat and start stirring. Keep stirring. This is gonna take the better part of two hours or so.
Add the sugar to taste. The CC prefers less but your tastes may vary.
Keep stirring.
Seed the cardamom pods and crush them to a powder in a mortar and pestle.
The milk should reduce by half and the color changed from bright white to almost cream-colored.
You didn't miss the memo about keeping on stirring, right?
When reduced by half, add the cardamom powder, the saffron, and the almonds and take off the heat. When it has cooled down, stick it in the refrigerator till it is ice cold.
Put the fruits in a bowl. Pour the milk mixture all over it. Serve at once.
This Indian dish has so much amazing science and trickery inside of it that it's worthy of the slipperiest of slippery gods. (Oh, Agni! Oh, Loki!)
What is it?
Fruits in a milk reduction with complex spicing.
When stated like that, it sounds so boring which it totally is not. It's a masterpiece of complex chemistry with that assured magician's sleight of hand which veers it towards genius.
One day the CC returned to his apartment where his roommate greeted him sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I ate it all. I couldn't resist."
The CC knew even back then the kinda effect this dessert has on people so he just said, "Why don't you go shopping? We'll make it again, and we'll make a party of it on Friday?"
And we partied.
He grilled the steaks, his girlfriend (now wife) cooked the rest of the meal, and the CC had already spent his time earlier reducing milk for dessert. We were poor graduate students but we had a blast.
How does it work?
You reduce whole un-homogenized milk until it resembles a thick soup. You add cardamom, saffron, and slivered almonds. Then you cool it down till it's really ice-cold. You add fruits in a bowl, pour the soup all over it and eat it.
When the CC added the citrus fruits to the bowl, the roommate yelled, "It's gonna curdle." Logical thinking but dead wrong! That's the magic trick.
When the proteins are denatured and the final product ice-cold, the citrus doesn't have enough time to make the milk curdle. Eat it right away or GTFO, as the kids might say these days.
The more variety of fruits you add the better. The CC prefers apples, oranges, pomegranates. You may prefer something else. Go nuts!
(The citrus fruits must be peeled. The tannins in the skin have a higher probability of making it curdle.)
What's the problem?
It's hard work. It's an insane amount of work specifically since the kinda burners that we have in apartments are rather puny.
All you're doing in the most important step is "reducing" milk i.e. you're removing the water from the milk and simultaneously denaturing the proteins.
This is one of the truly rare cases where the CC is going to talk about specific equipment. You are best off with a enamel-coated cast-iron pot — something like a Le Creuset.
There's a reason for this. The CC grew up with this dish. It took hours and hours and hours and hours of stirring. It always does. Back in the day, the CC thought that having a book would be an antidote which was logical until he dropped the book into the flames and the house almost caught on fire. Not so great after all.
What's so great about the enamel-coated iron pot is that it heats the milk uniformly. From the sides as well as the bottom. The milk bubbles away at a uniform rate. You stir occasionally and try not to worry too much.
You'll worry anyway.
You want the milk to reduce by half. It'll change color because the water goes away and the bright white milk turns cream-colored.
The CC wants to point out that most Indian desserts involve reducing milk into various levels of submission. When looked at in that light, this is the easy end of the spectrum!
Ingredients
(serves 6)
2 gallons whole milk
sugar
6 cardamom pods
saffron
1/4 cup slivered almonds
1 orange - segmented, skin peeled
1 apple - cut into cubes
1 pomegranate - seeds separated
Note 1: The product itself is not amenable to storage but the milk mixture absolutely is. You can make more and just pour it over the fruits right before serving.
Note 2: When you serve it, it's great if you can chill the bowls ahead of time. It's not strictly necessary but it's nice.
Recipe
Heat up the milk in a pot. When it comes to a boil, reduce the heat and start stirring. Keep stirring. This is gonna take the better part of two hours or so.
Add the sugar to taste. The CC prefers less but your tastes may vary.
Keep stirring.
Seed the cardamom pods and crush them to a powder in a mortar and pestle.
The milk should reduce by half and the color changed from bright white to almost cream-colored.
You didn't miss the memo about keeping on stirring, right?
When reduced by half, add the cardamom powder, the saffron, and the almonds and take off the heat. When it has cooled down, stick it in the refrigerator till it is ice cold.
Put the fruits in a bowl. Pour the milk mixture all over it. Serve at once.
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