Better Living Through Chemistry (or Why Julia was Deluded!)

It's very rare when you can say that Julia Child was flat-out wrong^†. It's even more wondrous to say that not only was Julia wrong but that Escoffier was wrong^‡ too. It's almost downright iconoclastic to say that not only were they wrong but that they were wrong in that most classical of French techniques — stock making.

And yet they were.

Welcome to the modern world of technology and chemistry!

The first crack in the facade is that you frequently hear them talking about "refreshing the stock". You need to keep adding in spices, etc. to "freshen" the stock. Why would you need to do so? Shouldn't the stock already be fresh? Shouldn't the spices already be there?

The answer as many of you might know is that what we think of as taste is really smell and spices consist of volatile molecules that dissipate in the air. Particularly when they are boiled.

Classical stock making consists of boiling the living daylights out of a standard flavor mixture. The short version is that it consists of vegetables plus meat plus aromatics. First the vegetables are fried, then the meat and aromatics added. Then a ton of water and the whole thing is brought to a simmer. The oil allows the oil-soluble volatile compounds to get transferred to the water and you must skim off the fat that comes to the surface. When the meat and vegetables have given up all their goodness to the water, you have stock.

Classical stock makes the house smell good^§. That's another way of saying that the volatile compounds are dissipating in the air and you will need to find a way to "refresh" them later because they are being lost.

The trick consists of not losing the volatile molecules in the first place. This is not a particularly original idea. It was first suggested by Heston Blumenthal a while ago and given more modern credence by Nathan Myhrvold in his epic Modernist Cuisine.

However, you must own a pressure cooker.

The fundamentals of stock making remain in play. The onions and vegetables must be fried. That's Maillard for you. The meat must be roasted (if making brown stock). That's also Maillard. However, instead of boiling it, you pressure cook for a much shorter time (at a higher temperature) and you filter it after it cools back to room temperature.

Your stock will be amazingly concentrated and you will have done it in half the time.

Given the absurdly cold weather, the CC had sourced some organic beef shin bones and went about making a classical "brown stock" in order to make French Onion Soup. The recipes for both follow below.

Here are a few tricks that you might not have heard of. They are actually quite common among chefs but the CC never sees any of these "dark arts" being published in the literature. (Why would they give their secrets away?)

1. Toss in 2-3 pods of star anise into the broth when you are making it. Star anise contains anethole which is a polyphenol. It's both distinctly sweeter than sugar and also will react with sulfur in the onions to turn into the wonderful aromatics characteristic of the Maillard reaction. This intensifies the "meatiness" of the broth. If used in moderation, you will not smell the characteristic "anise smell" in the broth. (Consider this as the Vietnamese contribution to classical French cooking!)
2. Toss in a handful of dried shiitake mushrooms. Alternatively, if you are feeling flush in cash, toss in some dried porcini mushrooms. The mushrooms amp up the existing umami from the vegetables and the meat by adding their own guanylates to the mix. (On a side note, chefs frequently "amp" up commercial beef broth by just tossing in a handful of the cheap dried shiitake mushrooms, boiling for a bit and filtering. Yes, it is that effective!)
3. When roasting the meat, it's traditionally tossed with flour which will brown a bit. Toss it with condensed milk instead. Once more, this is Maestro Maillard riding to the rescue. The condensed milk just has more of the proteins in a concentrated framework.

And here are some of the tricks to really impress your chef friends:

1. After cooking the stock in the pressure cooker ("no skimming, no hard work"), all the fat will be on the surface. This is the magic of high-heat, no boiling. You can just skim it off with a ladle. Then pass the broth through three layers of folded cheese cloth. Do not press the cloth but it's fine to let it drip dry. The volume will reduce drastically. This is clarification by filtration. Chill immediately in an ice bath. This is important.
2. If you want to clarify it further, chill overnight, scrape the fat off the top, reheat without boiling, and do process [1] again. Your chef friends will be absolutely amazed at your consommé and you will have done it for a tenth of the classical effort which involves egg whites. (Incidentally, the egg whites are just a less efficient version of the same filtration described above AND they cause substantial loss of the volatile flavor molecules which is what we want in the first place!)

---

† To be fair to Julia, she did explore the idea even back then. However, the pressure cooking technology of her time kinda sucked. Modern pressure cookers are much more precise so she wasn't really wrong. At least, for her time. But times change and technology evolves.

‡ Just too early really.

§ There are many practitioners of "modernist cuisine" that think that the kitchen must have no smells whatsoever. They do have an excellent point but this is practically impossible for most of us so we must live with reasonable compromises while pursuing that flighty temptress, perfection.

---

Brown Stock

Ingredients

2 beef shin bones
1 large onion
1 large carrot
2-3 cloves garlic

2-3 pods star-anise
4 dried shiitake mushrooms

rosemary
black pepper
salt

Recipe

First, roast the bones at 450°F for about 40 minutes. They will give off a lot of fat. Discard or use for other purposes. They should be lightly browned.

Fry the onions, garlic and the carrot in the pressure cooker. Add the bones and fry some more. Add all the ingredients, cover to the top with water and let pressure cook for at least two hours. You will need to fiddle with the heat so that there is no hissing at all. (No losses!)

Let the pressure cooker cool down naturally which will take the better part of an hour.

If you do this right, when the broth cools almost all of the fat will be on the surface. Another advantage of using a pressure cooker. Using a ladle you can just skim the fat right off.

On a coolness note, you can hear the bones crack inside the pressure cooker at some point. Not to worry. The goodness is being extracted.

You should chill the broth overnight and skim the fat that will accumulate at the top. You can freeze the broth at this point if you like.



French Onion Soup

Ingredients

16 large onions (yes!)
6 cups beef broth

1 tbsp flour

butter
olive oil

stale bread (read below!)
1/3 cup grated gruyère
1/4 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano

Recipe

At least, for this the CC is happy to report, there's no bettering classical technique so you'll just have to get down to it.

Cut the onions into semi-circles.

Heat the butter and olive oil in a large pot. If you follow Julia, it should be all butter but the CC has found that the mixture works better. Add the onions to the pot. Turn the heat onto medium-high and let cook for an hour. Stir every 20 minutes. Towards the end you will probably need to stir every 5 minutes or so.

The onions will turn into a rich dark color. It may take longer depending on the moisture content.

Add a tablespoon of flour, and let it cook for about 5 minutes.

Add the broth and bring to a boil. Let cook for about 25 minutes on medium-low heat.

You will need stale bread that is preferably naturally leavened and let it dry out. Cover the piece with the grated cheese and stick it under the broiler for about 3 minutes. Be very careful. This has a tendency to burn. 30 seconds the wrong way and you will have a burnt mess. Best to keep checking.

Ladle the soup over the bread-cheese combo. Slurp.

Going Pork Crazy!

In the National Palace Museum in Taipei, there's a rather famous sculpture of a meat-shaped stone (肉形石).

From the catalog:

At first glance, this meat-shaped piece of stone looks like a luscious, mouth-watering piece of "Tung-p'o meat". Made from banded jasper, it is a naturally occurring stone that accumulates in layers over many years. With time, different impurities will result in the production of various colors and hues to the layers. The craftsman who made this meat-shaped stone took the rich natural resources of this stone and carved it with great precision, and then the skin was stained. This process resulted in the appearance of skin and lean and fatty layers of meat, the veining and hair follicles making the piece appear even more realistic.

Peeling and Cutting Butternut Squash

Someone once remarked that the best way to peel a butternut squash is to use a lathe.

The CC fully concurs.

However since most of us don't have a spare lathe sitting around — those of you that do can leave now! — here's how to cut it open in ten easy steps without cutting anything else open.

1. Slice off the top and bottom so that it can sit flat on a surface.
2. Put it on its side. Roll it around to see where it is most stable and using the chef's knife, make a length-wise incision. Press down. Let gravity do the work.
3. You will NOT be able to cut it into a half (most likely, sometimes it works.)
4. In that case, stand it up vertically. (This is where cutting the top and bottom works.) Now slice down vertically using the above incision as a guide. Again, let gravity do the work.
5. Congratulations. You have two halves. Start scooping out the stringly innards and the seeds.
6. Lay down the two flat halves face-down on a surface, and cut downwards with the knife letting gravity do the work.
7. This is the tricky part. You will have four quarters. They tend to be relatively stable when the triangular sections are facing upwards. Cut gently into eighths using the ridge as a guide again letting gravity do the work.
8. With a sharp vegetable peeler, cut the outer skin away from each of the eighths. This is straightforward since each one can be easily grasped. It's a lot of boring work but as they say, "Better boring than ER."
9. Wash, slice and dice.
10. Be thankful you don't run a restaurant.

Thanksgiving

Champagne with Pomegranates
♥ Bruschetta with Spicy Roasted Squash, Onion Jam & Feta ♣ Roasted Lamb with Rosemary, Caramelized Lemons & Black Pepper  ♦
Pear, Oyster Mushroom, Pomegranate, Pinenut & Prosciutto Stuffing
♦
Fingerling Potatoes with Figs & Thyme
♦
Cheese Course ♦ Chocolate

Things that make you go hmmm ...

Have you ever read a recipe in a cookbook and said to yourself, "There's no fuckin' way that can work!"?

Happens to the CC all the time. He then ends up yelling at the book which classifies him as one of the crazies but that's him, isn't it?

It comes with experience to all cooks even if you are not familiar with the cuisine in question. It's frequently just a matter of timings which have clearly not been tested and/or are more than a touch speculative. The amount of the sizes could also be all bollocksed to high heaven (tablespoons instead of teaspoons is all too common), or the proportions could be upsized and upchuck-worthy. (4 cups of water in 1 cup of flour will not yield a dough — it will yield a liquid mess!)

Here's a classic blooper from Lathika George's "The Kerala Kitchen".

(In the parlance of our time, this bitch be smokin' some serious crack!)

It's a classic egg curry found all over India. You hard-boil some eggs and separately make a curry. At the end, you cut the eggs length-wise and mix with the curry, re-heat and serve. Hardly complicated.

The trick that makes this specific recipe work is the same trick that makes classic French Onion Soup work. It requires a mass of onions to be browned and then a whole ton of spices and tomatoes are added to it. This turns into a dry curry.

The recipe in the book calls for the onions to be fried for 2-3 minutes and after that, the tomatoes to be cooked for two minutes.

In your fuckin' dreams, lady!

Even twenty minutes is too little for this to work. The last time the CC made a French Onion Soup, it took more than an hour for the onions to do their magic.

This is the principle of IST (Indian Stretchable Time) applied to cooking where five minutes really means fifty. (A lot of cultures have this principle encoded as a joke. There is even the concept of NST used by the "suitable in-crowd" and the CC will not translate that particular one.)

Now admittedly, this stuff is cooked at medium-high heat instead of the relatively gentle burble of the onions for the soup and the soup calls for a vastly larger number of onions but still. There is absolutely no fuckin' way in hell a mass of onions plus tomatoes is going to give up all that moisture in a total of five minutes. Incidentally, that's what frying really is — a precise way to remove moisture.

A significant fraction of this can squarely be blamed not on the author but on the editors. You needn't look towards the travesty of Rachael Ray and Sandra Lee. They are just the logical culmination of something that has been going on since Edouard de Pomiane in La Cuisine en dix minutes, ou l'Adaptation au rythme moderne.

We like speed. We like convenience. Cooking can be a chore even for the most committed amongst us. We are, alas, all too human.

Except that Pomiane was a genius. He clearly states what can and can't be hurried up and his entirely elegant solution for "hurrying up" is that if a recipe can't be hurried up, you shouldn't make it or serve it to your guests on a weeknight. Genius!

Pomiane's book is hands-down a work of a master and someone deeply steeped in the art of cooking. You will learn better from him how to make a classic sauce hollandaise than from all the textbooks and French chef's of the world. He has idiot-proofed something that is considered a "junior chef's challenge". (Science is why his technique works and since he was a physician and microbiologist, chances are that he understood in detail what he was doing.)

Editors, listen up! There is no shame in saying that something takes thirty minutes instead of three. There's no fuckin' shame in explaining in simple terms the science behind a recipe. People are smarter than you think and those that are likely to buy an obscure cookbook are much more likely to spend thirty minutes than three.

So don't try and push it. Not only do you get a travesty of a recipe but also you get an inedible fuckin' mess!

Isn't this entirely obvious?

So here's the classic egg curry from Kerala reworked for your benefit.

(And yes, the CC used a timer to time it as opposed to the gormless Ms. George who clearly did not test worth the proverbial Indian dam!)

Egg Curry

Ingredients

6 eggs (hard-boiled)

3-4 cups onions (very thinly sliced)
2 tomatoes (finely diced)

12 curry leaves
1 tbsp ginger (chopped into very thin slivers)
4 cloves garlic (sliced thin)
3-4 chillies slit lengthwise

1 tsp turmeric
1 tsp chilli powder (or to taste)
4 tbsp black pepper
salt

Recipe

First make the eggs. Cover them in cold water. Bring them to a boil and turn the heat to low. Cook for 8 minutes. Remove and immediately dunk into an ice-bath to cool off.

You will get perfectly hard-boiled eggs without the yolk turning chalky and none of the green sulfurous ring around them.

Peel them and set aside.

Combine the turmeric, salt, chilli powder and black pepper with a few tablespoons of water to make a thick paste. Don't add too much water.

Heat up some oil and when heated (7 mins) dump in the mass of onions. Let fry on a medium-high heat until they change color but are not blackened. Roughly 17 minutes.

Twenty-four minutes and counting.

Dump in the curry leaves, ginger, garlic slit chillies, and let fry for a bit (3 minutes.)

Add the tomatoes and spice paste. You may need to add some water to make sure it doesn't burn. Let cook at a low heat for about 8 minutes until the tomatoes turn saucy.

We're up to 35 minutes now, you clueless bitch!

Cut the eggs length-wise into halves and add them yolk-side up and let them gently heat up to the sauce. About 3 minutes. Serve.

So nearly 40 minutes not counting the time to make the hard-boiled eggs.

Tomato-Flavored What Now?

We haven't had a good rant around these parts in a while so presenting ... tomato-flavored vodka.

The CC couldn't think past the obvious "bloody mary" but supposedly, it will "inspire" ideas.

Inspire away in the comments section!

Pepper Jelly

We love audience participation on this blog so the CC presents (a lightly edited) version of reader Marcus' post about preserving an excess of peppers in the South.

Recently, I sent a photo of some peppers to the CC. Upon seeing the cornucopia, he asked me to write a guest post. About what I wasn't sure but since my original email included mention of peppers and jelly, I thought I would write about the Southern tradition that is pepper jelly! 

Here in Arkansas, pepper plants grow from March until the end of October (our first freeze was last night). I start my peppers in January indoors and transplant them in late March or early April depending on the weather. Peppers produce fruit relatively quickly, so you can get a LOT of peppers from a single plant through the year, which makes food preservation a necessity (waste not, want not). The first photo is about 1/3rd of the peppers in my garden on the day these where picked, about a week ago. I measured 6.4 kg total. This is an assortment of cayenne, serrano, jalapeno, anaheim, poblano, bell, and a variety of other sweet peppers. 

Pepper jelly is one of those rare items I have never seen for sale (or maybe just never looked for) in a grocery store but with which I've been acquainted all my life as with eating certain wild game. We were given some wonderful pepper jelly last year — that's where it always comes from, you see, someone gives it to you — and were thus inspired to try our hand at making some. Neither the wife nor I had ever made the sweet concoction, so it was a first for us both. The second photo is a shot of the final product. This photo is actually all the jars from two batches. 

Last night while filling jars from the second batch, I had the forethought to pull some off for later. It can take two weeks for jelly to set but I wanted to try a bite sooner. I put the small portion on my eggs this morning. It's quite a bit hotter than most people would make, but I like the heat. Very delicious! My 1-year old insisted on having some on her eggs as well (she refuses to be left out of anything). She would take a bite, cough, drink some milk, then take another bite! 

(Edit from the wife) Because this recipe is high on the heat factor, the recipe card is now labeled "Hot Pepper Jelly", instead of Pepper Jelly. In future batches, I may deseed the peppers or select fewer of the hot varieties so we have options on the shelf, similar to mild, medium and hot salsa.
 

For the record, the CC has only one thing to add, "Go, go, go, little baby!" (for the heat-loving factor.)

On the Love of Specialized Instruments

The CC owns something called a "bird beak paring knife". It's a paring knife with a curved beak (presumably like that of a bird.)

Mostly it's used for carving stuff - you know, edible roses and stuffed cherry tomatoes. The kinda fussy stuff which the CC generally doesn't get to very often.

It originally came in a package set and has been gathering dust ever since.

The CC has finally found a very good use for it. It's perfect for de-seeding and de-pithing the inside of a bitter melon when you want to stuff it.

The stuffing for this recipe is from Kashmir. Specifically, it seems to be a relatively modern vegetarian adaptation of what must inevitably originally have been a Mughal meat dish.

That it is a vegetarian response to the original marriage of Mongol and Persian traditions to Indian spices can hardly be in doubt. That it happens to feature the altogether New World potato means that it can be no more than 250-300 years old (long enough for the potato not only to cross the shores but enter into a routine upper middle-class vocabulary.) There's a variant that uses paneer which may be marginally older. (And then there are hybrids which are just the normal evolution of any dish.)

Even if you don't end up stuffing bitter melons, do make this recipe. It would be amazing stuffed in just about anything - peppers, tomatoes, zuccini, squash. It's all about the spices.

Several versions are presented below. Feel free to pick from any of them because the magic is in the texture and the spices. In fact, the CC guarantees that you will have to stop yourself from stuffing yourself just from the stuffing.

Just for full disclosure, this recipe is definitely "fussy" and time-consuming. Its origins clearly lie when emperors had armies of cooks from whence it filtered down into homes with cooks from whence it filtered down into regular homes where the wives stayed at home all day and were bored. It's not going to jive well with modern sensibilities but it made a lot of sense when the CC was cooped in all-day after a pesky little hurricane.

Q: What does he do when he's bored?
A: He stuffs fuckin' karela's.
E: Nice!

For the modern-day readers' convenience, short-cuts are suggested but you will definitely miss out on some of the textural element in the dish.

Ingredients

8 bitter melons (prepared - read below)

Stuffing

1 large red onion
4 green chillies (finely diced)

Meat or Potatoes

3 large potatoes
or
2 potatoes
1 cup crumbled paneer
or
2 cups minced meat

Spice Mix 1 (Whole)

1 tbsp fennel seeds
2 tbsp nigella
2 tsp turmeric
2 tsp chilli powder
2 tsp dried ginger (substitute by fresh)
3 tbsp amchur (dried green mango powder)

Spice Mix 2 (Ground fine)

2 tbsp fennel seeds
1 tsp coriander seeds
2 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp black peppercorns
1 tbsp garam masala
1/2 tsp fenugreek seeds

Recipe

First prepare the bitter melons. You need to scrape them clean till they are pale green and look like naked dead skinned green mole rats. Using a very sharp paring knife, cut them length-wise gently making sure that you don't slice them down the middle. This is harder than you think because every once in a while you will encounter a hard seed. Have no fears! Jump over the seed and continue. The problem will fix itself.

Gently with your fingers separate it along the edges. Be careful of both ends. They have a tendency to break. Using the bird-beak knife (or your fingers), gently reach inside and start scraping away at the seeds and the pith. This will take a few tries but as it does you will notice that it becomes easier and easier. (This was a surprise to the CC!)

There are pesky seeds at either end of the length of the bitter melon every once in a while. It's quite tough but you can do it! They must be removed.

You will have eight stuffable bitter melons which you need to thoroughly rinse and set aside until they dry.

When dry, thoroughly salt the inside and the outside of the bitter melon. Set aside in a colander for at least an hour. At the end of the hour, you will notice that the bitter melon has turned very very soft and flexible because the salt has changed its celullar structure and drawn out quite a bit of the bitterness. Thoroughly wash the melons both inside and outside one more time and set aside until they are dry.

Meanwhile, while the bitter melons are salting, prepare the stuffing.

The potato needs to be diced into what the French would call a small dice. You could do a brunoise but then you would really have to be extraordinarily bored. (Crumble the paneer with your hands into tiny irregular pieces.)

Hurrah, meat-eaters! You have something over the granola's after all. You don't need to do anything. All the prep above is doing is simulating the texture of ground meat.

The onion also needs to be diced really fine. So the meat-eaters can't really escape from the prep after all. Welcome to the jungle, my friends!

(Since the CC promised short-cuts, you can just dice the potatoes and do a quick mash with a potato masher in the pot and let cook for an additional 6-7 minutes. However, not the same. Be aware, be strong!)

In a large shallow pot with a lid, fry the onions and green chillies till the onions are translucent. Add the first set of whole spices, and fry for about 30 seconds. Add the potatoes (or meat) and fry for about 6-7 minutes till it changes color. Add water and cover.

Let cook until done. It's different for different versions. At least 15 minutes for either one, and possibly a tad more for the vegetarian versions.

Uncover and let cook till it's relatively dry. Toss in the second set of spices and mix thoroughly.

Let the stuffed mixture cool down.

Stuff the bitter melons. (Try not to eat all the stuffing. You will attempt anyway. You will be hunted down like the animals that you are by your own families so beware!)

You can pre-prep this recipe upto this point and let the stuffed vegetables sit in your refrigerator for a few days.

In a shallow skillet with a lid that can hold all the bitter melons, heat up some oil. When it is shimmering add the stuffed bitter melons gently face-down and let them fry for about 7 minutes at medium-high heat. Turn them over gently with a pair of tongs and let them fry for an additional 4-5 minutes. Gently add about a cup of water and cover the lid. Let cook for about 10 minutes on a very low flame till they are completely tender.

Serve with some parathas and some raita.

What a Wonderfully Odd Fact!

Sometimes the best part of an article is a throwaway sentence that illuminates so much.

The process of sun-drying shrimp was introduced to Louisiana over a hundred years ago by Chinese and Filipino immigrants who saw the shrimp-rich region as an opportunity for export.
 

How wonderfully amazing!

And then local cooks started incorporating the concentrated flavors of the dried shrimp into their gumbo!

Food Storm

Apparently, we're stormed in.

However, the CC had two food shopping trips organized on Friday and Saturday. Long before he had heard of this pesky little problem that seems to be imminent.

Friday consisted of some wonderful shopping at the Indian and Korean markets in Jackson Heights.

Saturday consisted of some wonderful shopping at the Greek markets in Astoria.

The latter was followed up by some wonderful Japanese ramen in Astoria. (Those Japanese hipsters! They can't quite resist those cheap rents, can they?)

This (storm) too shall pass.

Improptu Dinner Party

Shishito Peppers with Sea Salt
♦
Zebra Tomatoes with Arbequina Olive Oil and Sea Salt
♦
Autumn Mac-n-Cheese with Vegetables
♦
Cheese Course (with Duck-Fat Ciabatta)
♦
Chocolate

You Always Think It'll Happen To Other People

This summer, for the first time, the CC has finally OD'd on tomatoes!

Would You Rather Be a Fruit or a Vegetable?

Humans are a fairly omnivorous species.

We eat roots and tubers, stems and stalks, leaves, flowers, seaweeds, and fungii and call them all vegetables.

We also eat fruits.

Most interestingly, we eat some fruits and call them vegetables^†.

A substantial reason for this is the United States Supreme Court decision from 1893 in the matter of Nix v. Hedden. And like all momentous events in the United States, it all comes down to a matter of taxation.

The Tariff Act of 1883 required a tax to be paid on imported vegetables but not fruit. The "intuitive" notion, which of course is not the botanical notion, was that fruits were sweet and were "mostly eaten as is" and vegetables were not and were "cooked".

It all came down to a matter of dueling dictionaries.

Common parlance^‡ won and the tomato "became" a vegetable!

† tomatoes, eggplant, bell peppers, chillis, tomatillo, squashes, cucumber, legumes, peas, avocado, corn, okra and olives.

‡ If you really want to freak your vegetarian friends out, when you're eating fruit, be sure to say loudly, "Mmmmmmmmmm ... tasty ripe ovaries!" (because that's what they actually are!)

Flatbread with Dandelion Greens

There are recipes that are old friends. The years go by, and you keep perfecting them (and there's always something to be perfected, isn't there?)

This one is an oldie. The CC got it from a friend's magazine (Seriously! The CC wouldn't be caught dead buying those magazines.)

Over the years, it's been rationalized and made much much more scientific. It's been through the paces more than a few times. More spices have been added and tweaks made but the basic ideas remain the same. You, my good friends, are the beneficiaries of the CC's hard work.

It's an idea as old as time. Bread topped with tasty stuff topped with cheese. If you're thinking "pizza" then that's what it resembles, of course.

What makes it interesting is what the "stuff" is and how the "bread" is constructed.

It's basically a very classic long-fermented dough topped with dark leafy slightly-bitter greens with tomatoes and Indian spices topped with salty feta. A Greek friend mentioned that it very strongly resembles what they call "Arabic Pie".

It's truly a wondrous recipe. So make this one. It takes a little effort but it has a rock-your-world kinda taste. It will certainly rock your party!


Ingredients

Dough

1/4 cup rye flour
2 cups whole wheat flour (sifted)
3/4 cup dark rye flour
1/2 tsp dried yeast
2 tsp salt
1 1/4 cups water
cilantro (chopped fine)
rosemary (chopped fine)
1 tbsp ground pepper

Topping

1 large red onion (very finely diced)

3" ginger
5 garlic cloves
2-3 Thai green chillies (or 1 serrano)

1 stick cinnamon
2 tsp whole coriander
1 tsp whole cumin
1 tsp cloves
1/2 tbsp fennel

3-4 cardamom pods

1 cup tomato sauce
6 cups chopped dandelion greens

olive oil
salt

crumbled feta

Recipe

Dough

Just a few notes about commercial yeast. It is built to reproduce fast but that doesn't allow flavor to build so you need to retard it. The standard way is just to stick it in the refrigerator and give it much much longer times to do its thing. This recipe was made last week when Fall made its way. The house was extraordinarily cool which is functionally the same thing as a refrigerator. The CC trudged off to the NYFF while the dough did its thing.

You want a cool long fermentation process not a fast one. Otherwise, the dough which is part of the magic will have no taste. 

You need to prepare this dough early in the day for consumption at night.

In a very roomy glass bowl, add 1/4 cup of rye flour with the dried yeast and mix with about 1/2 cup of luke-warm water. Err on the cooler side. Hot water will definitely kill the yeast. Let it sit for about 20 minutes.

This is an old baker's trick. Rye flour is like crack-cocaine for yeast. They will reproduce and go crazy. It's called a poolish (French) or biga (Italian).

After 20 minutes, the sludge will be all foamy. (If not, your yeast is dead. Discard and try again.)

Add the sifted whole-wheat flour, rye flour, cilantro, rosemary, salt, black pepper. Add water slowly and knead until you get a solid but pliable ball. (This really depends on the weather and humidity. The CC just adds water slowly until he gets it right.)

Cover the bowl tightly and let it sit for at least 8 hours.

After 8 hours, you will notice that the dough is a lot more "flowy". The yeast have eaten away the sugars and left the gluten behind. Deflate the dough.

Form a ball one more time. If it's very wet, you may need to add a little bit more flour.

Cover and let it sit for a 2-3 hours. It will rise a lot faster the second time around.

Topping

Roast the spices in a dry skillet. Make sure they don't burn. Set aside and grind in a clean coffee grinder.

Pound the ginger, green chillies and garlic to a paste. Set aside.

Heat up some olive oil. Fry the onions for about 4 minutes. Add the paste above and fry for a while. Add the tomato sauce. Let it cook for about 6 minutes.

Add the greens with some salt. They will give off a lot of water. Let them cook at a medium-low heat until almost all the water is gone.

Add the ground spices, mix and set aside.

Assembly

Cover a large rectangular 9"x16" pizza tray with aluminum foil. This makes cleanup easy.

Pour some olive oil and spread all over. This ensures that the dough doesn't stick. Deflate the dough gently with your hands. Dump it in the tray, flatten it gently with your fingers so that it assumes the rectangular shape of the tray. The dough will be quite "doughy" so this step is quite easy.

Top with the greens mixture from above. Add crumbled feta on top.

Pre-heat the oven to 450°F.

The CC lets the tray sit near the oven while it pre-heats for about 20-25 minutes. Consider this as the third rising of the dough. (It rises really rapidly.)

Bake for about 14 minutes. (You will need to check because the feta can easily burn.)

Let it rest for about 7 minutes. (Yes, this is important. It's still cooking even though you've pulled it out of the oven.)

Slice and devour!

The Haul

Shishito peppers (so late!), flat beans, zebra tomatoes (again, so late!), dandelion greens, rosemary.

Already, the brassicaceae are out in full force but the weather being a little too warm means it was a little early for the CC. In any case, there will enough of them all winter.

The End of Summer

This is it. Summer is gone.

Tomatoes, last of the cherry tomatoes, last of the eggplants, chives, onions.

Saw cauliflower for the first time. Fall is here.

Okra

Most people have a love/hate affair with the vegetable. The CC naturally loves it.

When he was but a little child, he adored it beyond reason. (Clearly, the CC had advanced tastes even back then.)

The trick with okra that makes it "slimy" is that if it's wet, it has a tendency to leak slime. Cellular-wall decomposition and all that. It needs to be pan-fried at a high-heat and it's absolutely necessary that the okra not be wet. You will get spectacular reaults if you just ensure this simple rule.

You must dry it thoroughly with a piece of cloth or if you are lazy, pop it in a pre-heated oven at very low heat (without allowing it to cook.) Either way, the okra must be bone-dry.

The recipe below is a classic Bengali Recipe. As you might guess, there are similar recipes with variations in the spices all over India with much discussion about which is the "best".

The CC refuses to get into that particular Vietnam. He likes them all and the topic is a bit of a snooze-fest anyway.

This one is quite lovely (particularly because of the fennel and nigella) but why quibble over relative greatness?

Dharosh Chorchori

Ingredients

15 pods okra
1 large onion (sliced into thin quarter-moons)

1 1/2 tsp turmeric
1 green chilli (diced fine)

3-4 fresh green chillies

2 tbsp oil
1 tbsp panch phoran

salt (to taste)

Recipe

Slice of the stem and tip of the okra. Make a couple of length-wise gashes on the body of the vegetable.

Slit the 3-4 green chillies length-wise with a gash.

Pound the turmeric and finely diced chillies with a tablespoon of water and grind to a fine paste.

Heat the oil in a wok. Add panch phoran and cook till the spluttering stops. Add the okra. Stir-fry for about 6 minutes. Add salt, the masala paste, the sliced onions and the green chillies.

Stir-fry for about 2-3 minutes. Add about half a cup of water. Simmer till the pan is nearly dry.

(Note: This is a "dry dish". It would normally be served with rice, a "wet dish" and a daal.)

Panch Phoran

It's a classic Bengali spice-mixture. Literally means five-spices (although different from the Chinese five-spice mix.)

It consists of equal parts of cumin, fennel, fenugreek, nigella and radhuni.

The latter may be hard to get but it's necessary.

Although they ask you to substitute by mustard seeds, radhuni tastes nothing like mustard. It's closer in spirit to celery seeds than anything else.

Late Summer Harvest

Pole beans, purple beans, cranberry beans, tomatoes (heirloom and not-so-heirloom), onions, zucchini, pattypan-squash, chives, basil, rosemary.

Not in the least bit over-the-top. No sirree!

Yellow Nails

The CC was expecting it. Any moment the question would be asked.

It was asked today.

"Why are your nails yellow? You don't smoke!

The CC laughed. He has been the beneficiary of fresh turmeric and has been cooking a lot with it recently (recipes and pictures to follow.)

Turmeric stains your hands and your nails. Alas, good food has consequences.

The stains shall fade but the food will live on in the blogs!