Ginger is a unique substance. It's origin is clearly in South Asia from where it has spread far and wide. Its use in everything from the Japanese gari to ginger ale to gingerbread and ginger snaps means that it's about as ancient as spices come.
The CC would like to talk about a very specific thing. Dried ginger.
The flavors are completely different from the fresh variety and they are not substitutes for each other. You will see the dried version most often in the context of Moroccan, Tunisian, or Indian cooking.
Fresh ginger has a pungent edge. Dried ginger has an edge but it's a lot more mellow. It has a positively fragrant disposition.
The CC has seen dried ginger in two forms. One is the whole root. You cut off as much as you need and grind it as needed. (A coffee grinder rocks out just fine.)
The second is pre-ground which is fine too but you need to store it in the fridge. It has a tendency to absorb moisture and will spoil.
There's also a half-way house which is dried ginger slices that you can then grind.
One of the classic uses of dried ginger in the pan-North-African-made-its-way-to-India context is its use as a sprinkling over pulped fruit. Specifically fruit that is very sweet. Specifically mangoes.
The dried ginger acts as a tonic cutting through the absurd sweetness of the fruit. Salt is another way of doing the same and you frequently see dried ginger in this context.
Of course, its also used in innumerable spice mixtures but that's not very surprising.
Many cookie recipes from Europe also call for dried ginger not the least because it doesn't have any moisture which would change the ratios of the ingredients needed although these days the hipsters are sneaking back in fresh ginger.
However, as the CC has already stated. They are not substitutes. They are fully equals and just different things even though the derive from the same source.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Monday, May 12, 2014
Asparagus, Peas & Parmesan Purée
This is another one of those magical combos which is perfect for spring and easy to make.
The CC made it with fresh peas because he had some but frozen is fine here.
The CC has served this on a bruschetta topped with the asparagus spears and also as a pizza base. Toss with pasta if you like. It's truly amazing.
Ingredients
1 bunch asparagus
1 1/2 cup peas (frozen is fine)
1 1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
salt (if necessary)
Recipe
First cut up the asparagus. Separate the tender spears and set aside. Then for each stem decide by pressing where the woody bottom portion is and discard. Set the stems aside.
Steam the stems and the peas for about 8 minutes.
Then steam the spears for no more than 1 minute. Be careful. You want some texture left here. They are very soft and will just go limp and disintegrate.
Blend the stems, peas, parmesan, and black pepper in a blender with some water.
Add some more salt to the paste if it needs it. Depends on the saltiness of the cheese really.
(You can also thin the paste if you like if you want to toss with pasta, etc.)
The paste and the spears are now your friends. Top a toasted piece of bread with the paste and top with the spear. Watch them disappear!
The CC made it with fresh peas because he had some but frozen is fine here.
The CC has served this on a bruschetta topped with the asparagus spears and also as a pizza base. Toss with pasta if you like. It's truly amazing.
Ingredients
1 bunch asparagus
1 1/2 cup peas (frozen is fine)
1 1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
salt (if necessary)
Recipe
First cut up the asparagus. Separate the tender spears and set aside. Then for each stem decide by pressing where the woody bottom portion is and discard. Set the stems aside.
Steam the stems and the peas for about 8 minutes.
Then steam the spears for no more than 1 minute. Be careful. You want some texture left here. They are very soft and will just go limp and disintegrate.
Blend the stems, peas, parmesan, and black pepper in a blender with some water.
Add some more salt to the paste if it needs it. Depends on the saltiness of the cheese really.
(You can also thin the paste if you like if you want to toss with pasta, etc.)
The paste and the spears are now your friends. Top a toasted piece of bread with the paste and top with the spear. Watch them disappear!
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Bacterial Overload
Recently the CC went to one of those outdoor street fairs where there was a pickle stand. They were also selling some of the pickled juice blended with tomatoes as a "Bloody Mary Mix". The vendors kept apologizing and warning clients who wanted to buy it that it was not pasteurized.
And the CC was completely nonplussed, "So it has come to this?"
It doesn't need to be pasteurized!
There is a fundamental lack of understanding by people who work in food about our relationship with other bio-agents and particularly the organisms that we are deeply symbiotic with namely bacteria.
At this point in time, advertising agencies have basically convinced consumers that bacteria are "evil" but nothing could be further from the truth.
The standard mechanism of cultivating bacteria in the lab is creating something called a "culture". Basically, a swab of bacteria are grown on a substrate and then examined under a microscope. Based on this, it was estimated that something like 1% of a human mass was actually bacteria. Little did people know how wrong this estimate turned out to be.
In the early part of the 21st century, the price of DNA sequencers fell precipitously. What used to be an expensive tool became dirt cheap. Scientists had the entirely brilliant idea of not measuring bacteria by mass but by what percentage of DNA of our body was made up of bacteria. Turns out the answer is between 90-99%.
Remember the two estimates are of different things. One is by weight and the other is by percentage of DNA that is non-human. They are different things but the latter estimate is clearly the more important.
To put it differently, we humans exist for the benefit of the bacteria not the other way around. Of course, we are extraordinarily symbiotic with them. We provide them the food and they provide us both protection by repelling all the "bad bacteria" and do significant portions of body work for us.
In fact, the bacteria on your left and right hands are completely different.
So why did the earlier scientists get it so wrong? How can the estimates be so off?
You should be able to guess the answer. Not every bacteria can grow in the "culture". In fact, they can only survive in that localized environment inside the body that they have adapted to.
The answer is even more complex. There's no such thing as "good" or "bad" bacteria. It's contextual. You move the "good" bacteria from the right spot where they are supposed to be into the wrong spot and they will become "bad" bacteria. The context is completely important.
The bacteria that we are the most symbiotic with is a family called lactobacillus. Every time, you eat yogurt, eat or drink miso, eat pickles, cheese, kimchi, drink beer or wine, you are basically consuming them in vast quantities. They do the fermentation for us, and in turn, they repel other harmful bacteria for us. We are completely reliant on them.
So now maybe you can guess why the pickled juice blended with tomatoes did not need to be pasteurized?
The lactobacilli would repel any invader which there are not that many of to start with because of the acidity of the environment. The lactobacilli are the rare family that has adapted to the acidic environment thanks to their symbiosis with us.
Fermented foods have a long history of being considered "good for you". It was just an empirical observation over large swathes of human history in vastly different regions and contexts but they all came to the same conclusion.
Only in the 21st century is science able to actually dissect how all these various extraordinarily-complex mechanisms actually work.
But the CC's point is a lot larger. How have we gotten to a point where the most basic food interaction is fraught with anxiety? The answer is that Madison Ave. has made you paranoid.
The CC never relies on the expiration dates for milk. Just smell it. It's pretty obvious. Sometimes it will go bad before the expiration date!
The same goes for fermentation and fermented products. They work in a complex way and made correctly will last forever. Experienced picklers never throw out the juice. They use a cup of it to start off the next batch because it has the complex blend of bacteria all ready to give the next batch the right start.
Pickling is one of the greatest achievements in food technology. Just remember that for most of human history, humans were food deprived. Our modern calorie-rich environment is an extraordinarily recent development barely 50 years old. Pickling was the trick that allowed humans to store food for the winter. It also gave variety and complexity to their diet and the symbiotic relationship with the bacteria made for healthier humans.
The CC hopes that this explanation convinces people not to think of bacteria as "evil" but our necessary partners in the game of life. We need them; they need us. We can't actually function without them.
So the next time you're at the fair eating a pickle-on-a-stick, you should not think to yourself "Ooh! crunchy cucumber", you should really be thinking "Ooh! Tons of bacteria with a side helping of crunchy cucumber!"
And the CC was completely nonplussed, "So it has come to this?"
It doesn't need to be pasteurized!
There is a fundamental lack of understanding by people who work in food about our relationship with other bio-agents and particularly the organisms that we are deeply symbiotic with namely bacteria.
At this point in time, advertising agencies have basically convinced consumers that bacteria are "evil" but nothing could be further from the truth.
The standard mechanism of cultivating bacteria in the lab is creating something called a "culture". Basically, a swab of bacteria are grown on a substrate and then examined under a microscope. Based on this, it was estimated that something like 1% of a human mass was actually bacteria. Little did people know how wrong this estimate turned out to be.
In the early part of the 21st century, the price of DNA sequencers fell precipitously. What used to be an expensive tool became dirt cheap. Scientists had the entirely brilliant idea of not measuring bacteria by mass but by what percentage of DNA of our body was made up of bacteria. Turns out the answer is between 90-99%.
Remember the two estimates are of different things. One is by weight and the other is by percentage of DNA that is non-human. They are different things but the latter estimate is clearly the more important.
To put it differently, we humans exist for the benefit of the bacteria not the other way around. Of course, we are extraordinarily symbiotic with them. We provide them the food and they provide us both protection by repelling all the "bad bacteria" and do significant portions of body work for us.
In fact, the bacteria on your left and right hands are completely different.
So why did the earlier scientists get it so wrong? How can the estimates be so off?
You should be able to guess the answer. Not every bacteria can grow in the "culture". In fact, they can only survive in that localized environment inside the body that they have adapted to.
The answer is even more complex. There's no such thing as "good" or "bad" bacteria. It's contextual. You move the "good" bacteria from the right spot where they are supposed to be into the wrong spot and they will become "bad" bacteria. The context is completely important.
The bacteria that we are the most symbiotic with is a family called lactobacillus. Every time, you eat yogurt, eat or drink miso, eat pickles, cheese, kimchi, drink beer or wine, you are basically consuming them in vast quantities. They do the fermentation for us, and in turn, they repel other harmful bacteria for us. We are completely reliant on them.
So now maybe you can guess why the pickled juice blended with tomatoes did not need to be pasteurized?
The lactobacilli would repel any invader which there are not that many of to start with because of the acidity of the environment. The lactobacilli are the rare family that has adapted to the acidic environment thanks to their symbiosis with us.
Fermented foods have a long history of being considered "good for you". It was just an empirical observation over large swathes of human history in vastly different regions and contexts but they all came to the same conclusion.
Only in the 21st century is science able to actually dissect how all these various extraordinarily-complex mechanisms actually work.
But the CC's point is a lot larger. How have we gotten to a point where the most basic food interaction is fraught with anxiety? The answer is that Madison Ave. has made you paranoid.
The CC never relies on the expiration dates for milk. Just smell it. It's pretty obvious. Sometimes it will go bad before the expiration date!
The same goes for fermentation and fermented products. They work in a complex way and made correctly will last forever. Experienced picklers never throw out the juice. They use a cup of it to start off the next batch because it has the complex blend of bacteria all ready to give the next batch the right start.
Pickling is one of the greatest achievements in food technology. Just remember that for most of human history, humans were food deprived. Our modern calorie-rich environment is an extraordinarily recent development barely 50 years old. Pickling was the trick that allowed humans to store food for the winter. It also gave variety and complexity to their diet and the symbiotic relationship with the bacteria made for healthier humans.
The CC hopes that this explanation convinces people not to think of bacteria as "evil" but our necessary partners in the game of life. We need them; they need us. We can't actually function without them.
So the next time you're at the fair eating a pickle-on-a-stick, you should not think to yourself "Ooh! crunchy cucumber", you should really be thinking "Ooh! Tons of bacteria with a side helping of crunchy cucumber!"
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Chilled Beet Gazpacho
It's still winter here which means even though the weather says spring, all we have are winter vegetables. Beets are the answer.
If you use golden beets instead of the red ones, you will have a gorgeous yellow soup. There is just enough vinegar in the recipe to wake up your taste buds.
Speaking of which, our taste buds behave very differently with hot and cold food. It takes a lot more of the same stuff to make an impression at lower temperatures — obvious enough ("kinetic energy of the molecules") — so you need to amp up the seasonings a tiny bit.
Ingredients
4 large beets
5 cloves garlic
1 onion
1 tbsp. French mustard
6 tbsp. sherry-wine vinegar (your best)
sea salt
chives (for garnish)
Recipe
Steam the beets until they are soft. The skin will peel off. Dice.
In a blender, combine all the ingredients with 2 cups of cold water. Process to a smooth-textured purée. Refrigerate.
If you want a finer soup, re-blend the soup right before serving. Garnish with chives.
Even a few hours is very little time to allow it cool down sufficiently in summer. Empirically, the CC had to toss in a few ice cubes after 4 hours to make it taste like it should. You should make it at least 8 hours ahead of time and let it chill. Even a day ahead is not too much.
If you use golden beets instead of the red ones, you will have a gorgeous yellow soup. There is just enough vinegar in the recipe to wake up your taste buds.
Speaking of which, our taste buds behave very differently with hot and cold food. It takes a lot more of the same stuff to make an impression at lower temperatures — obvious enough ("kinetic energy of the molecules") — so you need to amp up the seasonings a tiny bit.
Ingredients
4 large beets
5 cloves garlic
1 onion
1 tbsp. French mustard
6 tbsp. sherry-wine vinegar (your best)
sea salt
chives (for garnish)
Recipe
Steam the beets until they are soft. The skin will peel off. Dice.
In a blender, combine all the ingredients with 2 cups of cold water. Process to a smooth-textured purée. Refrigerate.
If you want a finer soup, re-blend the soup right before serving. Garnish with chives.
Even a few hours is very little time to allow it cool down sufficiently in summer. Empirically, the CC had to toss in a few ice cubes after 4 hours to make it taste like it should. You should make it at least 8 hours ahead of time and let it chill. Even a day ahead is not too much.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Fowl Technical Tricks
One of the ways in which great chefs distinguish themselves from routine ones is a whole array of technical tricks that make all the difference in the world.
Here's one that works wonders. It will give the chicken a depth of flavor even if you use it in a context where the crispiness of the skin is not important.
The magical step is to first pan-sear the chicken in duck fat. Of course, Maestro Maillard† is doing his magic. The chicken is then lifted out, blotted, and the fat is discarded.
There is an additional advantage here. You need to wash the chicken and dry it before you pan-fry it but you don't need to cut off the fat. The fat will get rendered and "disappear" and you won't need to deal with it. Laziness raised to pure perfection in the arms of technique!
You can then proceed to make the chicken in whatever fashion you like. Even in a conventional stew or soup, the difference is striking. The CC has had friends ask if the dish was cooked in "tons of butter"? Not even close.
The dish below is a classic Moroccan dish. It's the "little black dress" of Moroccan cooking. You need to have it in your repertoire. It's a total crowd-pleaser and one for the ages.
If you don't have a tagine use a solid pot that you can seal with foil. The seal is necessary.
Why is something so simple so magical?
Three reasons.
Firstly, the Maillard reaction with the chicken plus the miniscule remnants of the duck fat on the surface cells which make their way into the sauce. Secondly, the depth of flavor by a long slow braise where the chicken effectively cooks in its own juices. Lastly, the intense burst of both flavor and umami from the preserved lemons which add a delectable citrus note as a baseline flavor. The fresh herbs add their own contribution as well.
Is this technique "traditional" (whatever the hell that word means)?
The answer is borderline. Traditionally, the meat is not seared in the classical Moroccan tradition but the CC is willing to bet a substantial amount of money that this is the way that true geniuses make the dish even while avowing the technique. Ultimately, it's the end that matters and the end is scrumptious!
Chicken Tagine with Preserved Lemons & Green Olives
(serves 4)
Ingredients
4 chicken thighs
1 large onion (grated)
2 preserved lemons
2 cups green olives (pitted)
1/2 cup parsley (finely chopped)
1/2 cup cilantro (finely chopped)
1 tbsp. coriander seeds
1 1/2 tbsp. cumin seeds
1 tbsp. whole black pepper
1/2 tbsp. dried ginger
1/2 tbsp. sweet paprika
large pinch of saffron
2 cups chicken broth
salt
3 tbsp. duck fat
Recipe
Dry roast the coriander, cumin and black pepper in a skillet and grind them finely in a coffee grinder. Combine with the dried ginger, sweet paprika and saffron and set aside.
Prepare the preserved lemons. Discard the innards retaining only the skin. It will peel off easily. Chop in to strips about 1" long. This means first chop them length-wise into thin strips and then halve them. Set aside.
For the olives, there are two schools of thought. Those that prefer them left whole and those that halve them length-wise. The CC is mystified why the world would be so divided (pun intended!) since it makes so little difference to the end result but as the Japanese might say, 十人十色 ("ten people, ten colors" = "different strokes for different folks").
In a flat pan, heat up the duck fat and fry the chicken thighs until they are lightly browned on both sides. Roughly 10 minutes. Lift out and set aside. Discard the fat.
Meanwhile grate the onion with a box grater. Set aside.
Assemble the tagine.
Combine the grated onions, salt, broth, and the spices and put them in the tagine. Add the chicken. Cover it and let it cook at the lowest possible heat for 35 minutes. (The chicken should be very tender at this point.)
Add the preserved lemons, olives, the two greens and combine.
You can let it sit at this point and reheat gently in the tagine when your guests arrive.
Serve over couscous. (Recipe below.)
Couscous with Chickpeas, Raisins & Scallions
(serves 4 generously)
Ingredients
2 cups couscous
1/2 cup chickpeas
1 cup raisins
2 scallions
2 tbsp. cultured butter
2 1/2 cups water
salt
Recipe
The CC is perfectly aware of the fact that, theoretically speaking, couscous should be steamed but you can't get that kind of couscous even in New York so you live with the brute reality that you have on the ground.
Cook the chickpeas ahead of time. They need to be al dente.
Add all the ingredients to a pot except the couscous and bring to a boil. Add the couscous and turn the heat off. Wait 5 minutes. Fluff it to get perfectly cooked couscous.
† The Mallard is a wild duck which makes the pun with Maillard all too irresistible.
Here's one that works wonders. It will give the chicken a depth of flavor even if you use it in a context where the crispiness of the skin is not important.
The magical step is to first pan-sear the chicken in duck fat. Of course, Maestro Maillard† is doing his magic. The chicken is then lifted out, blotted, and the fat is discarded.
There is an additional advantage here. You need to wash the chicken and dry it before you pan-fry it but you don't need to cut off the fat. The fat will get rendered and "disappear" and you won't need to deal with it. Laziness raised to pure perfection in the arms of technique!
You can then proceed to make the chicken in whatever fashion you like. Even in a conventional stew or soup, the difference is striking. The CC has had friends ask if the dish was cooked in "tons of butter"? Not even close.
The dish below is a classic Moroccan dish. It's the "little black dress" of Moroccan cooking. You need to have it in your repertoire. It's a total crowd-pleaser and one for the ages.
If you don't have a tagine use a solid pot that you can seal with foil. The seal is necessary.
Why is something so simple so magical?
Three reasons.
Firstly, the Maillard reaction with the chicken plus the miniscule remnants of the duck fat on the surface cells which make their way into the sauce. Secondly, the depth of flavor by a long slow braise where the chicken effectively cooks in its own juices. Lastly, the intense burst of both flavor and umami from the preserved lemons which add a delectable citrus note as a baseline flavor. The fresh herbs add their own contribution as well.
Is this technique "traditional" (whatever the hell that word means)?
The answer is borderline. Traditionally, the meat is not seared in the classical Moroccan tradition but the CC is willing to bet a substantial amount of money that this is the way that true geniuses make the dish even while avowing the technique. Ultimately, it's the end that matters and the end is scrumptious!
Chicken Tagine with Preserved Lemons & Green Olives
(serves 4)
Ingredients
4 chicken thighs
1 large onion (grated)
2 preserved lemons
2 cups green olives (pitted)
1/2 cup parsley (finely chopped)
1/2 cup cilantro (finely chopped)
1 tbsp. coriander seeds
1 1/2 tbsp. cumin seeds
1 tbsp. whole black pepper
1/2 tbsp. dried ginger
1/2 tbsp. sweet paprika
large pinch of saffron
2 cups chicken broth
salt
3 tbsp. duck fat
Recipe
Dry roast the coriander, cumin and black pepper in a skillet and grind them finely in a coffee grinder. Combine with the dried ginger, sweet paprika and saffron and set aside.
Prepare the preserved lemons. Discard the innards retaining only the skin. It will peel off easily. Chop in to strips about 1" long. This means first chop them length-wise into thin strips and then halve them. Set aside.
For the olives, there are two schools of thought. Those that prefer them left whole and those that halve them length-wise. The CC is mystified why the world would be so divided (pun intended!) since it makes so little difference to the end result but as the Japanese might say, 十人十色 ("ten people, ten colors" = "different strokes for different folks").
In a flat pan, heat up the duck fat and fry the chicken thighs until they are lightly browned on both sides. Roughly 10 minutes. Lift out and set aside. Discard the fat.
Meanwhile grate the onion with a box grater. Set aside.
Assemble the tagine.
Combine the grated onions, salt, broth, and the spices and put them in the tagine. Add the chicken. Cover it and let it cook at the lowest possible heat for 35 minutes. (The chicken should be very tender at this point.)
Add the preserved lemons, olives, the two greens and combine.
You can let it sit at this point and reheat gently in the tagine when your guests arrive.
Serve over couscous. (Recipe below.)
Couscous with Chickpeas, Raisins & Scallions
(serves 4 generously)
Ingredients
2 cups couscous
1/2 cup chickpeas
1 cup raisins
2 scallions
2 tbsp. cultured butter
2 1/2 cups water
salt
Recipe
The CC is perfectly aware of the fact that, theoretically speaking, couscous should be steamed but you can't get that kind of couscous even in New York so you live with the brute reality that you have on the ground.
Cook the chickpeas ahead of time. They need to be al dente.
Add all the ingredients to a pot except the couscous and bring to a boil. Add the couscous and turn the heat off. Wait 5 minutes. Fluff it to get perfectly cooked couscous.
† The Mallard is a wild duck which makes the pun with Maillard all too irresistible.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Orecchiette with Peas and Buttermilk-Parmesan Sauce
This is emphatically not an Italian dish. It's clearly a riff on "Alfredo Sauce", which while invented in Rome and which was itself a riff on fettuccine alla Romana, was definitely made for Americans. Rumor has it that its popularity owes itself to the Hollywood duo of Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford.
The substitution of cream by buttermilk makes sense. For one, you get a much stronger tangy lactic flavor. Secondly, you get a strong umami taste. It's also lighter. The emulsification works the same way as in the original.
The peas come from another classic Italian dish - pasta with peas, ham and cream. Similar idea just with fresh peas. Fancier versions substitute the ham with prosciutto.
The combination works magic and it requires a light hand. The peas definitely need to be fresh. Frozen is not going to cut it. It's also a dish where you need to make the sauce quickly while you are making the pasta at the last minute and toss it all together.
The reason to use orecchiette is to cradle the peas while holding on to the sauce. Substitute with conchiglie (shells) in the same logical vein.
Even with questionable authenticity, this dish is definitely both simple and magical.
Ingredients
(serves 2 generously)
2 cups conchiglie
1 cup fresh peas
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 tbsp. butter
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
1/3 cup chopped parsley
Recipe
Bring the heavily-salted pasta water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook till al dente. Roughly 12 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat up the butter in a pan at medium-low heat. When melted add the peas and let the sautée for a bit. Add the buttermilk and let it warm up and boil at the lowest possible heat. Add the parmesan and whisk the sauce.
Add the drained pasta, black pepper and parsley and toss thoroughly.
Serve.
The substitution of cream by buttermilk makes sense. For one, you get a much stronger tangy lactic flavor. Secondly, you get a strong umami taste. It's also lighter. The emulsification works the same way as in the original.
The peas come from another classic Italian dish - pasta with peas, ham and cream. Similar idea just with fresh peas. Fancier versions substitute the ham with prosciutto.
The combination works magic and it requires a light hand. The peas definitely need to be fresh. Frozen is not going to cut it. It's also a dish where you need to make the sauce quickly while you are making the pasta at the last minute and toss it all together.
The reason to use orecchiette is to cradle the peas while holding on to the sauce. Substitute with conchiglie (shells) in the same logical vein.
Even with questionable authenticity, this dish is definitely both simple and magical.
Ingredients
(serves 2 generously)
2 cups conchiglie
1 cup fresh peas
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 tbsp. butter
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
1/3 cup chopped parsley
Recipe
Bring the heavily-salted pasta water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook till al dente. Roughly 12 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat up the butter in a pan at medium-low heat. When melted add the peas and let the sautée for a bit. Add the buttermilk and let it warm up and boil at the lowest possible heat. Add the parmesan and whisk the sauce.
Add the drained pasta, black pepper and parsley and toss thoroughly.
Serve.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Classic Fish Pie
Amazing British Food? Surely that's an oxymoron.
Not so fast, my fine friends.
In the 18th century, there was very little difference between English, French and Italian food. If you look at the recipes, and they are almost all from the upper-crust of society who could afford to have servants and cooks and people who actually wrote the recipes down (as opposed to just make them), you will notice a strikingly similar set of palates and techniques. All the variation is just in what modern-day parlance is referred to as "locally-sourced ingredients" — what other choice was there back then?
It's the rise of nationalism in the 19th century and the extreme productivity of the early industrial society that led to a sharp distinction in cuisines. For lack of a better phrase, it was a form of "nationalistic branding". Even then, assuredly British cuisine could hold its own against the rest. After all, this was the richest society on earth. Surely nobody rational can believe that they ate badly, right?
It is also important to note that Britain's primary source of wealth was its Empire. A young stalwart called America was muscling onto its economic terrain using the power of technology — in this case agricultural and transportation technology. Midwestern grain could reach Europe cheaper than anything they could produce there. It was just economies of scale.There was a long slow decline in Britain's fortunes that has been documented extensively.
What laid utter waste to British Food was the Great War — World War I.
It destroyed the aristocracy. It destroyed the wealth, the food sourcing, the elaborate techniques, and the accumulated knowledge. You have to remember that a British aristocrat using the power of the nascent telephone (and canning technology!) back then could source food ingredients from all over the world. It was the proto-typical Internet.
It was all completely annihilated.
After that, between the loss of reserve currency status, loss of Empire and World War II, the culture turned into an economic wasteland with predictable effects on its food.
It took another 60 years to recover.
So the CC is going to argue quite forcefully that people who deride British food are looking at it through myopic eyes. Was it awful for about a century? Emphatically yes, but that's for non-reproducible reasons in what is but a twinkling of an eye in world history which happens to be the same as food history.
So you are going to have to dial back the clock and not just look at a modern-day recipe but what exactly were its antecedents. Once you do, you see the same "fresh herbs" and "fresh ingredients" and "attention to detail" that you see in other places.
What would classical English spicing be? Any herbs that grow in a colder climate. Just remember than the British Isles are nowhere near as cold as Scandinavia because of the warm North Atlantic Drift.
English thyme, parsley, bay leaves, rosemary, rue and mint (which is basically a weed and will grow anywhere). The entire cornucopia of spices imported from India since Roman times (pepper, cinnamon, cloves, etc.) and also from the West Indies (nutmeg, etc.)
The sauces are a little complex and heavy for modern palates but then the same goes for Classical French Cuisine which has fallen out of favor as well. All that can be easily addressed. You can lighten the sauce to make it more amenable to a contemporary audience. It's not even hard.
What's presented below is a classic fish pie.
Note the extensive use of fresh herbs. Note the careful three-part technique upfront before the final baking where each step neatly turns into the next one so that not even the slightest iota of flavor or ingredients are wasted.
How does it work?
In the old days, you would have sourced whole fish, whole prawns, etc. Our modern fillets and cleaned fish waste most of the parts that are used to extract even more flavor into the whole. This is our loss both economic and culinary.
First you use all the "remnants" of the fish (heads, shells, etc.) to make a fish broth (step 1). Then the fillets and the shellfish are poached with milk and fresh herbs (step 2). The fish is separated and the milk is strained and reserved and made into a classic béchamel (step 3) with vegetables and the fish broth and more fresh herbs are added into which the flaked fish will be folded in. Optionally, cheese might be added. (If it is, it's with a light hand. It would be a traditional cheddar which has nothing like the aggressive flavor of a modern-day cheddar. It's very mellow and has insane umami particularly when combined with the fish broth.)
The vegetables would've been "seasonal". People back then were just as bored eating the same-ol'-same-ol' as they might be today. Leeks, carrots, cauliflower, peas, asparagus, spinach, sorrel.
Separately, you make mashed potatoes. The dish is layered with the fish below the potatoes and baked till you get a British gratin. The killer step which so few people bother to do these days is that the mashed potatoes on top must be carefully raked like a Japanese Zen-Garden with the tines of a fork so that when they bake, you get not only a gorgeous presentation but crispy-brown bits thanks to the Maillard Reaction.
In the old days, the béchamel and the mashed potatoes would have had cream in them. It would also have have been presented in a pastry crust for formal presentations. All of this can be "lightened up".
This is technique at the highest level!
Ingredients
1 large piece of cod
12 clams
6 whole prawns (reserve the shells)
1 cup water
1 cup milk
2 large leeks
butter
8 tbsp. flour
1/2 cup cheddar (grated)
1 small carrot (diced)
1/2 cup peas
1 bay leaf
12-20 black peppercorns
parsley
nutmeg
parsley
3 large potatoes
milk
chives
sea salt
Recipe
First make the fish broth. Heat up some water with some prawn shells and let it simmer for about 10 minutes. (If not using prawns, use dried fish or dried shrimp to make a broth. Yes, this is important.)
Filter and retain the broth.
Take the clams and add the above broth to it. Steam them in an open pot until they open. Fish them out. Filter the clam broth through a cheesecloth and reserve. Chop the clams and reserve.
Heat the milk, the bay leaf, some parsley and the peppercorns. Bring to a boil. Put in the cod and let it poach for about three minutes. Fish it out. Put it in a bowl and flake it discarding the skin and bones.
Filter the milk combination discarding the bay leaf, parsley and peppercorns and reserve.
Now make a classic béchamel. Heat up some butter and when it is bubbling, add the leeks and let them cook for a bit. Add the flour and let it cook until light golden. Add the milk combination from above and let it reduce till it is thick. When the milk is denatured, add the broth. Be careful not to add the broth until the milk has denatured otherwise it will curdle. Add the grated cheddar, the remaining chopped parsley, black pepper, grated nutmeg and fold in the flaked cod, prawns, and chopped clams.
Separately, cook the potato in salted water till it is tender. In a bowl, mash it with some milk. Add the chives to this mix. The mixture should be on the thicker side not like traditional mashed potatoes which have more liquid.
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
In an oven-proof dish, layer the seafood in the béchamel sauce at the bottom. Top with the mashed potatoes. With the tines of a fork, rake the surface of the mashed potatoes with deep ridges in an attractive pattern.
Let it bake for 30 minutes till the top of the potatoes are lightly crispy.
Serve with a salad.
Not so fast, my fine friends.
In the 18th century, there was very little difference between English, French and Italian food. If you look at the recipes, and they are almost all from the upper-crust of society who could afford to have servants and cooks and people who actually wrote the recipes down (as opposed to just make them), you will notice a strikingly similar set of palates and techniques. All the variation is just in what modern-day parlance is referred to as "locally-sourced ingredients" — what other choice was there back then?
It's the rise of nationalism in the 19th century and the extreme productivity of the early industrial society that led to a sharp distinction in cuisines. For lack of a better phrase, it was a form of "nationalistic branding". Even then, assuredly British cuisine could hold its own against the rest. After all, this was the richest society on earth. Surely nobody rational can believe that they ate badly, right?
It is also important to note that Britain's primary source of wealth was its Empire. A young stalwart called America was muscling onto its economic terrain using the power of technology — in this case agricultural and transportation technology. Midwestern grain could reach Europe cheaper than anything they could produce there. It was just economies of scale.There was a long slow decline in Britain's fortunes that has been documented extensively.
What laid utter waste to British Food was the Great War — World War I.
It destroyed the aristocracy. It destroyed the wealth, the food sourcing, the elaborate techniques, and the accumulated knowledge. You have to remember that a British aristocrat using the power of the nascent telephone (and canning technology!) back then could source food ingredients from all over the world. It was the proto-typical Internet.
It was all completely annihilated.
After that, between the loss of reserve currency status, loss of Empire and World War II, the culture turned into an economic wasteland with predictable effects on its food.
It took another 60 years to recover.
So the CC is going to argue quite forcefully that people who deride British food are looking at it through myopic eyes. Was it awful for about a century? Emphatically yes, but that's for non-reproducible reasons in what is but a twinkling of an eye in world history which happens to be the same as food history.
So you are going to have to dial back the clock and not just look at a modern-day recipe but what exactly were its antecedents. Once you do, you see the same "fresh herbs" and "fresh ingredients" and "attention to detail" that you see in other places.
What would classical English spicing be? Any herbs that grow in a colder climate. Just remember than the British Isles are nowhere near as cold as Scandinavia because of the warm North Atlantic Drift.
English thyme, parsley, bay leaves, rosemary, rue and mint (which is basically a weed and will grow anywhere). The entire cornucopia of spices imported from India since Roman times (pepper, cinnamon, cloves, etc.) and also from the West Indies (nutmeg, etc.)
The sauces are a little complex and heavy for modern palates but then the same goes for Classical French Cuisine which has fallen out of favor as well. All that can be easily addressed. You can lighten the sauce to make it more amenable to a contemporary audience. It's not even hard.
What's presented below is a classic fish pie.
Note the extensive use of fresh herbs. Note the careful three-part technique upfront before the final baking where each step neatly turns into the next one so that not even the slightest iota of flavor or ingredients are wasted.
How does it work?
In the old days, you would have sourced whole fish, whole prawns, etc. Our modern fillets and cleaned fish waste most of the parts that are used to extract even more flavor into the whole. This is our loss both economic and culinary.
First you use all the "remnants" of the fish (heads, shells, etc.) to make a fish broth (step 1). Then the fillets and the shellfish are poached with milk and fresh herbs (step 2). The fish is separated and the milk is strained and reserved and made into a classic béchamel (step 3) with vegetables and the fish broth and more fresh herbs are added into which the flaked fish will be folded in. Optionally, cheese might be added. (If it is, it's with a light hand. It would be a traditional cheddar which has nothing like the aggressive flavor of a modern-day cheddar. It's very mellow and has insane umami particularly when combined with the fish broth.)
The vegetables would've been "seasonal". People back then were just as bored eating the same-ol'-same-ol' as they might be today. Leeks, carrots, cauliflower, peas, asparagus, spinach, sorrel.
Separately, you make mashed potatoes. The dish is layered with the fish below the potatoes and baked till you get a British gratin. The killer step which so few people bother to do these days is that the mashed potatoes on top must be carefully raked like a Japanese Zen-Garden with the tines of a fork so that when they bake, you get not only a gorgeous presentation but crispy-brown bits thanks to the Maillard Reaction.
In the old days, the béchamel and the mashed potatoes would have had cream in them. It would also have have been presented in a pastry crust for formal presentations. All of this can be "lightened up".
This is technique at the highest level!
Ingredients
1 large piece of cod
12 clams
6 whole prawns (reserve the shells)
1 cup water
1 cup milk
2 large leeks
butter
8 tbsp. flour
1/2 cup cheddar (grated)
1 small carrot (diced)
1/2 cup peas
1 bay leaf
12-20 black peppercorns
parsley
nutmeg
parsley
3 large potatoes
milk
chives
sea salt
Recipe
First make the fish broth. Heat up some water with some prawn shells and let it simmer for about 10 minutes. (If not using prawns, use dried fish or dried shrimp to make a broth. Yes, this is important.)
Filter and retain the broth.
Take the clams and add the above broth to it. Steam them in an open pot until they open. Fish them out. Filter the clam broth through a cheesecloth and reserve. Chop the clams and reserve.
Heat the milk, the bay leaf, some parsley and the peppercorns. Bring to a boil. Put in the cod and let it poach for about three minutes. Fish it out. Put it in a bowl and flake it discarding the skin and bones.
Filter the milk combination discarding the bay leaf, parsley and peppercorns and reserve.
Now make a classic béchamel. Heat up some butter and when it is bubbling, add the leeks and let them cook for a bit. Add the flour and let it cook until light golden. Add the milk combination from above and let it reduce till it is thick. When the milk is denatured, add the broth. Be careful not to add the broth until the milk has denatured otherwise it will curdle. Add the grated cheddar, the remaining chopped parsley, black pepper, grated nutmeg and fold in the flaked cod, prawns, and chopped clams.
Separately, cook the potato in salted water till it is tender. In a bowl, mash it with some milk. Add the chives to this mix. The mixture should be on the thicker side not like traditional mashed potatoes which have more liquid.
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
In an oven-proof dish, layer the seafood in the béchamel sauce at the bottom. Top with the mashed potatoes. With the tines of a fork, rake the surface of the mashed potatoes with deep ridges in an attractive pattern.
Let it bake for 30 minutes till the top of the potatoes are lightly crispy.
Serve with a salad.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Clam, White Bean & Saffron Soup with Parmesan Toasts
This is a very simple recipe. The CC has seen it made with mussels as well.
The parmesan toasts are simply superb. They would work with most soups.
The advantage of making them is you do get a subtle umami flavoring from the parmesan as you dunk them in clam soup but at no point does it overwhelm the purity of the clam flavor which would be the case if you just added parmesan directly to the soup.
Parmesan Toasts
(yields 8 triangles)
Ingredients
1 1/2 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano
4 slices bread
Recipe
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
On a tray lay out the slices of bread and evenly divide the parmesan onto each.
Bake for about 10 minutes. Be careful that they do not burn. Cut into triangles and set aside.
Clam, White Bean & Saffron Soup
(serves 2)
Ingredients
2 dozen clams
1 small onion (sliced into thin half-rounds)
1/4 cup white beans
olive oil
large pinch of saffron
black pepper
Recipe
First make the beans. Cook them in very lightly salted water till done. Roughly 20 minutes. Reserve the broth. (Do not oversalt the water because the clams are briny and the soup will become overly salty)
Cook the clams with some water. When they open fish them out. Pass the clam broth through a cheesecloth to eliminate the sand. Reserve the clams and broth separately.
In a pot, heat up some olive oil. Add the onions and cook till they are limp but not colored. Fry the cooked beans for a bit. Add the two broths and black pepper. Bring to a boil and let it cook for about 8-10 minutes. Add the saffron at the last minute. Turn off the heat.
Divide the clams into two bowls. Top with the soup. Serve with the parmesan toasts.
The parmesan toasts are simply superb. They would work with most soups.
The advantage of making them is you do get a subtle umami flavoring from the parmesan as you dunk them in clam soup but at no point does it overwhelm the purity of the clam flavor which would be the case if you just added parmesan directly to the soup.
Parmesan Toasts
(yields 8 triangles)
Ingredients
1 1/2 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano
4 slices bread
Recipe
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
On a tray lay out the slices of bread and evenly divide the parmesan onto each.
Bake for about 10 minutes. Be careful that they do not burn. Cut into triangles and set aside.
Clam, White Bean & Saffron Soup
(serves 2)
Ingredients
2 dozen clams
1 small onion (sliced into thin half-rounds)
1/4 cup white beans
olive oil
large pinch of saffron
black pepper
Recipe
First make the beans. Cook them in very lightly salted water till done. Roughly 20 minutes. Reserve the broth. (Do not oversalt the water because the clams are briny and the soup will become overly salty)
Cook the clams with some water. When they open fish them out. Pass the clam broth through a cheesecloth to eliminate the sand. Reserve the clams and broth separately.
In a pot, heat up some olive oil. Add the onions and cook till they are limp but not colored. Fry the cooked beans for a bit. Add the two broths and black pepper. Bring to a boil and let it cook for about 8-10 minutes. Add the saffron at the last minute. Turn off the heat.
Divide the clams into two bowls. Top with the soup. Serve with the parmesan toasts.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
The Ballad of Bouillabaisse
William Makepeace Thackeray was a great food enthusiast, and his enthusiasm has been documented more than a few times on this blog. Chances are that most people only know him from either his novel Vanity Fair, or Stanley Kubrick's masterpiece Barry Lyndon.
Modern day readers might not be familiar with the notion of an écaillère — it still exists today. It's the guy — and it's still mostly a guy! — who opens your huîtres (oysters). Also, roach refers to a carp-like fish. Dace is the French loup de mer or the Greek branzino.
Is this a great poem? Emphatically not.
However it's elegiac tone using the device of the memory of the constancy of the dish acts unambiguously like a thumping ostinato that grounds innumerable music compositions in innumerable music traditions.
It's a terrific idea.
Modern day readers might not be familiar with the notion of an écaillère — it still exists today. It's the guy — and it's still mostly a guy! — who opens your huîtres (oysters). Also, roach refers to a carp-like fish. Dace is the French loup de mer or the Greek branzino.
Is this a great poem? Emphatically not.
However it's elegiac tone using the device of the memory of the constancy of the dish acts unambiguously like a thumping ostinato that grounds innumerable music compositions in innumerable music traditions.
It's a terrific idea.
A street there is in Paris famous,
For which no rhyme our language yields,
Rue Neuve de petits Champs its name is —
The New Street of the Little Fields;
And there's an inn, not rich and splendid,
But still in comfortable case;
The which in youth I oft attended,
To eat a bowl of Bouillabaisse.
This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is -
A sort of soup, or broth, or brew,
Or hotchpotch of all sorts of fishes,
That Greenwich never could outdo;
Green herbs, red peppers, muscles, saffern,
Soles, onions, garlic, roach, and dace;
All these you eat at Terré's tavern,
In that one dish of Bouillabaisse.
Indeed, a rich and savory stew 'tis;
And true philosophers, methinks,
Who love all sorts of natural beauties,
Should love good victuals and good drinks.
And Cordelier or Benedictine
Might gladly, sure, his lot embrace,
Nor find a fast-day too afflicting,
Which served him up a Bouillabaisse.
I wonder if the house still there is?
Yes, here the lamp is as before;
The smiling, red-cheek'd écaillère is
Still opening oysters at the door.
Is Terré still alive and able?
I recollect his droll grimace;
He'd come and smile before your table,
And hoped you like your Bouillabaisse.
We enter; nothing's changed or older.
'How's Monsieur Terré, waiter, pray?'
The waiter stares and shrugs his shoulder -
'Monsieur is dead this many a day.'
'It is the lot of saint and sinner.
So honest Terré's run his race!'
'What will Monsieur require for dinner?'
'Say, do you still cook Bouillabaisse?'
'Oh, oui, Monsieur,' 's the waiter's answer;
'Quel vin Monsieur désire-t-il ?'
Tell me a good one.' 'That I can, sir;
The Chambertin with yellow seal.'
'So Terré's gone,' I say, and sink in
My old accustom'd corner-place;
'He's done with feasting and with drinking,
With Burgundy and Bouillabaisse.'
My old accustom'd corner here is —
The table still is in the nook;
Ah! vanished many a busy year is,
This well-known chair since last I took.
When first I saw ye, cari luoghi,
I'd scarce a beard upon my face,
And now a grizzled, grim old fogy,
I sit and wait for Bouillabaisse.
Where are you, old companions trusty
Of early days, here met to dine?
Come, waiter! quick, a flagon crusty -
I'll pledge them in the good old wine.
The kind old voices and old faces
My memory can quick retrace;
Around the board they take their places,
And share the wine and Bouillabaisse.
There's Jack has made a wondrous marriage;
There's laughing Tom is laughing yet;
There's brave Augustus drives his carriage;
There's poor old Fred in the Gazette;
On James's head the grass is growing:
Good Lord! the world has wagged apace
Since here we sat the Claret flowing,
And drank, and ate the Bouillabaisse.
Ah me! how quick the days are flitting!
I mind me of a time that's gone,
When here I'd sit, as now I'm sitting,
In this same place-but not alone.
A fair young form was nestled near me,
A dear, dear face looked fondly up,
And sweetly spoke and smiled to cheer me.
— There's no one now to share my cup.
. . . . . . . .
I drink it as the Fates ordain it.
Come, fill it, and have done with rhymes;
Fill up the lonely glass, and drain it
In memory of dear old times.
Welcome the wine, whate'er the seal is;
And sit you down and say your grace
With thankful heart, whate'er the meal is.
— Here comes the smoking Bouillabaisse!
Friday, March 21, 2014
Indian-Style Chinese Corn Soup
If you are not aware of the concept of "Indian-Chinese" food, you are in for a small shock and a treat to follow.
Chinese immigrants migrated from the Hakka region to Calcutta in the 19th-century when it was the de-facto economic capital of India under the British Raj. The laborers were the dark underbelly of the opium trade. Like all immigrants, the path to not being bonded laborers was to open food eateries. (It's the same today right now in modern-day New York!)
They brought with them their techniques but rapidly discovered that neither pork ("Muslim") nor beef ("Hindu") was going to work in the new situation. Additionally, the population wanted a different set of spices than what the immigrants were used to. However, adaptability is the name of the game as you might guess from the entirely analogous fact that there's no such Cantonese dish as "Chop-Suey" — it's a Chinese-American idea catering to vague Chinese ideas about American tastes in the 19th century from whence it spread nation-wide and thence world-wide.
And in the same vein, "Indian-Chinese" fusion cuisine was born.
It was a blockbuster hit from day one because the one fact about human nature that never changes is that we crave novelty.
Money makes the world go round so when the economic capital of India moved from Calcutta to Mumbai, the immigrants and the dishes followed. Now they are ubiquitous all over India.
This is a classic corn soup.
Corn is not Chinese, of course. Nor Indian. It's New World. Its global nature originates from the Spanish conquest of the New World after which it made its way to Europe and eventually along the Silk Road to most of Asia. There are multiple layers of fusion hooked up in this single dish.
It's emphatically not a high-falutin' dish. It's pretty low-brow.
The CC has wondered for the longest time how they got the tangy flavor in the vegetarian versions that they make? How was it that you could get a superior version in any crap town in India than what he was making at home?
It took a while but it finally struck like the biggest "DUH!" of all times.
"Of course! They are using MSG."
We can now add Japanese 20th-century science to the fusion. Just to recap, we are now talking about Pan-American corn, Spanish conquest, Chinese immigrants and adaptation, Indian flavors and techniques, and Japanese food technology in a single dish.
It's umami that is making all the difference. So by substituting the MSG with the functionally-equivalent dashi, we have a winner with the exact same taste. BINGO!
Why does the recipe work in the first place? What makes it successful?
It's corn soup that's nutritious with a "hit-me-again" umami taste that's off the charts. You can add any protein to it. It's cheap, easy to make, and easy to sell. It reheats well. You can make it ahead of time. It's basically street food is what it is. The only thing stopping it from being street food is the fact that it's a soup — too hard to serve on the street.
So as the CC unambiguously pointed out above, it's low-brow but he means that in the best non-pejorative sense of the word. This dish is simply awesome.
There are a few standard variants — you can add shredded chicken or shredded crab or prawns; and/or a beaten egg.
If you have never had this, you are totally missing out.
Ingredients
Paste
1/2" ginger
3 cloves garlic
4 green chillies
2 scallions (both white and green parts)
1 can "cream-style" corn
1 cup fresh corn (frozen is fine)
5-6 cups dashi
1 cup carrots (diced fine)
1 cup green beans (cut into very thin rounds)
1 tbsp. corn starch
6 tbsp. ice water
salt
white pepper
To Serve
1 scallion (diced into fine rounds)
cilantro (finely chopped)
3 green chillies (diced into fine rounds)
1/2 cup vinegar
soy sauce
Recipe
The recipe is straightforward. It's the side servings that require a little explanation.
There are four conventional ones — soy sauce, finely diced cilantro and scallions are self-explanatory. The last is the super-spicy chillies plonked in a neutral vinegar (rice vinegar works!)
You can add as much of each as you like including the fact that you can just add the vinegar minus the chillies.
First prepare the paste. Just use a food processor to grind the ginger, garlic, green chillies, and scallions together.
Heat up some oil. Fry the paste languidly for about 6 minutes. Add the carrots and beans and let it fry for 3 minutes. Add the creamed corn and the dashi. Add salt and white pepper to taste.
Bring to a boil. You can skim off the fat if you like. Let it cook for 10 minutes or so.
Meanwhile, add the corn starch to the ice water and let it mix. It will not "dissolve". You are making a suspension. Whip well and add to the mixture.
Serve with the fixin's!
Chinese immigrants migrated from the Hakka region to Calcutta in the 19th-century when it was the de-facto economic capital of India under the British Raj. The laborers were the dark underbelly of the opium trade. Like all immigrants, the path to not being bonded laborers was to open food eateries. (It's the same today right now in modern-day New York!)
They brought with them their techniques but rapidly discovered that neither pork ("Muslim") nor beef ("Hindu") was going to work in the new situation. Additionally, the population wanted a different set of spices than what the immigrants were used to. However, adaptability is the name of the game as you might guess from the entirely analogous fact that there's no such Cantonese dish as "Chop-Suey" — it's a Chinese-American idea catering to vague Chinese ideas about American tastes in the 19th century from whence it spread nation-wide and thence world-wide.
And in the same vein, "Indian-Chinese" fusion cuisine was born.
It was a blockbuster hit from day one because the one fact about human nature that never changes is that we crave novelty.
Money makes the world go round so when the economic capital of India moved from Calcutta to Mumbai, the immigrants and the dishes followed. Now they are ubiquitous all over India.
This is a classic corn soup.
Corn is not Chinese, of course. Nor Indian. It's New World. Its global nature originates from the Spanish conquest of the New World after which it made its way to Europe and eventually along the Silk Road to most of Asia. There are multiple layers of fusion hooked up in this single dish.
It's emphatically not a high-falutin' dish. It's pretty low-brow.
The CC has wondered for the longest time how they got the tangy flavor in the vegetarian versions that they make? How was it that you could get a superior version in any crap town in India than what he was making at home?
It took a while but it finally struck like the biggest "DUH!" of all times.
"Of course! They are using MSG."
We can now add Japanese 20th-century science to the fusion. Just to recap, we are now talking about Pan-American corn, Spanish conquest, Chinese immigrants and adaptation, Indian flavors and techniques, and Japanese food technology in a single dish.
It's umami that is making all the difference. So by substituting the MSG with the functionally-equivalent dashi, we have a winner with the exact same taste. BINGO!
Why does the recipe work in the first place? What makes it successful?
It's corn soup that's nutritious with a "hit-me-again" umami taste that's off the charts. You can add any protein to it. It's cheap, easy to make, and easy to sell. It reheats well. You can make it ahead of time. It's basically street food is what it is. The only thing stopping it from being street food is the fact that it's a soup — too hard to serve on the street.
So as the CC unambiguously pointed out above, it's low-brow but he means that in the best non-pejorative sense of the word. This dish is simply awesome.
There are a few standard variants — you can add shredded chicken or shredded crab or prawns; and/or a beaten egg.
If you have never had this, you are totally missing out.
Ingredients
Paste
1/2" ginger
3 cloves garlic
4 green chillies
2 scallions (both white and green parts)
1 can "cream-style" corn
1 cup fresh corn (frozen is fine)
5-6 cups dashi
1 cup carrots (diced fine)
1 cup green beans (cut into very thin rounds)
1 tbsp. corn starch
6 tbsp. ice water
salt
white pepper
To Serve
1 scallion (diced into fine rounds)
cilantro (finely chopped)
3 green chillies (diced into fine rounds)
1/2 cup vinegar
soy sauce
Recipe
The recipe is straightforward. It's the side servings that require a little explanation.
There are four conventional ones — soy sauce, finely diced cilantro and scallions are self-explanatory. The last is the super-spicy chillies plonked in a neutral vinegar (rice vinegar works!)
You can add as much of each as you like including the fact that you can just add the vinegar minus the chillies.
First prepare the paste. Just use a food processor to grind the ginger, garlic, green chillies, and scallions together.
Heat up some oil. Fry the paste languidly for about 6 minutes. Add the carrots and beans and let it fry for 3 minutes. Add the creamed corn and the dashi. Add salt and white pepper to taste.
Bring to a boil. You can skim off the fat if you like. Let it cook for 10 minutes or so.
Meanwhile, add the corn starch to the ice water and let it mix. It will not "dissolve". You are making a suspension. Whip well and add to the mixture.
Serve with the fixin's!
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Black Chickpea Sundal
This is a street food snack from South India that's easy to prepare and quite healthy.
You can prepare it with a variety of lentils and legumes. The version swapping out the black chickpeas for fresh peanuts is particularly tasty.
The black chickpeas are the small chickpeas that you find in India. They are much smaller than the regular chickpeas and dark black in color. They also have a higher protein content.
Experienced readers will note that the recipe is not substantially different from that of sukke except for the addition of the urad dal which when fried adds a nutty taste and crispy textural note.
Also, since the CC belongs to the "anal-retentive" category of humans, you really want shredded coconut not grated coconut here for the textural interest. Yes, it makes a massive difference. It's available frozen. Just make sure you thaw it before you make it.
Ingredients
1 cup black chickpeas
8-10 curry leaves
1 tbsp. mustard seeds
1 tbsp. urad dal
3-4 dried red chillies
1/2 cup shredded coconut
pinch of asafetida
coconut oil
salt
Recipe
First cook the chickpeas. Soak them overnight and cook for about 20 minutes until they are tender enough to eat. Drain and set aside.
Heat the coconut oil in a wok. When it heats up add the mustard seeds and wait for them to pop. Add the urad dal, red chillies and asafetida till the dal turns golden in color. Add the curry leaves. Be careful. They will tend to splatter.
Add the chickpeas, coconut and salt to taste and combine thoroughly. Sautée for 4-5 minutes and serve.
This snack is great either luke-warm or at room temperature.
You can prepare it with a variety of lentils and legumes. The version swapping out the black chickpeas for fresh peanuts is particularly tasty.
The black chickpeas are the small chickpeas that you find in India. They are much smaller than the regular chickpeas and dark black in color. They also have a higher protein content.
Experienced readers will note that the recipe is not substantially different from that of sukke except for the addition of the urad dal which when fried adds a nutty taste and crispy textural note.
Also, since the CC belongs to the "anal-retentive" category of humans, you really want shredded coconut not grated coconut here for the textural interest. Yes, it makes a massive difference. It's available frozen. Just make sure you thaw it before you make it.
Ingredients
1 cup black chickpeas
8-10 curry leaves
1 tbsp. mustard seeds
1 tbsp. urad dal
3-4 dried red chillies
1/2 cup shredded coconut
pinch of asafetida
coconut oil
salt
Recipe
First cook the chickpeas. Soak them overnight and cook for about 20 minutes until they are tender enough to eat. Drain and set aside.
Heat the coconut oil in a wok. When it heats up add the mustard seeds and wait for them to pop. Add the urad dal, red chillies and asafetida till the dal turns golden in color. Add the curry leaves. Be careful. They will tend to splatter.
Add the chickpeas, coconut and salt to taste and combine thoroughly. Sautée for 4-5 minutes and serve.
This snack is great either luke-warm or at room temperature.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Why Does My Kitchen Get Dirty?
For most people the answer to the question would be because they cook a lot and it splatters.
To which the CC would just ask the logical followup, "So why does it splatter in the first place?"
"Just because," is not really an answer. It's a cop-out saying "I don't know but I think I have the illusion that I do."
"Why does it splatter in the first place?"
We are going to get down to fundamentals because that's just the way the CC rolls.
A more practical reason is once you understand the "mechanism of splatter", you are going to be better equipped in cleaning your kitchen or getting your kitchen cleaned, whatever the case may be.
There are a few mechanisms of splatter and they are all very different because they work via vastly different principles.
The first and most obvious one is that people drop stuff on the floor. Nobody is perfect and while prepping food or cooking it, stuff will drop. It's even worse when there are dishes that are time critical. There's no time to pause and mop up the floor.
The second and more subtle reason is that when you are either pan-frying or frying you are really removing moisture via a precise process. The interaction of steam and oil which are immiscible turns the oil into a fine aerosol which because of the heat will rise in the air typically to a height of about 6-12 feet. When it cools off, it will rain down in miniscule droplets which are too fine to even see. If your kitchen has air movement of any sort or a draft, these droplets will travel at a height before they cool off enough to rain down.
(For those of you who wear glasses, there is a simple empirical test to demonstrate this. After you have finished frying, touch the inside of your glasses. It will be oily because the aerosol has rained down from above into the gap. If it were just splattering directly the inside would be absolutely clean.)
This is not the only problem. The aerosol tends to be highly ionized and will attract ionic molecules. Dust tends to be ionic for many complex reasons so these microscopic splatters will attract the neighboring dust to them where they will cluster. When it gets large enough, you will notice it as being "dirty".
(This is the same reason that your television, computer screen, computer fans, electronic equipment, get disproportionately dusty. They are attracting ionic dust because the surfaces are mildly ionized themselves. In the case of computer hardware, highly ionized.)
The third common reason is that of the bubbling of a sauce (think: tomato sauce). When the viscosity of a sauce gets really thick, the water is trying to escape in the form of steam but the sauce is so thick that it doesn't allow the tiny bubbles to rise to the surface. They form lots of tiny bubbles internally which coalesce inside the sauce to form a large bubble. The large bubble can counteract the density of the sauce and rises to the top. When this large bubble pops at the surface, it splatters the sauce all over. Generally, these sauces are easy to clean which is why experienced cooks just do a quick clean right after they finish unlike the oil splatters which are so tiny as to be practically invisible. It also helps to keep the sauce bubbling at a lower speed.
Experienced chefs also use splatter screens although the CC will be the first to point out that they are not always practical and not always applicable to certain styles of dishes.
Armed with this knowledge, go forth and cook! (and clean!)
To which the CC would just ask the logical followup, "So why does it splatter in the first place?"
"Just because," is not really an answer. It's a cop-out saying "I don't know but I think I have the illusion that I do."
"Why does it splatter in the first place?"
We are going to get down to fundamentals because that's just the way the CC rolls.
A more practical reason is once you understand the "mechanism of splatter", you are going to be better equipped in cleaning your kitchen or getting your kitchen cleaned, whatever the case may be.
There are a few mechanisms of splatter and they are all very different because they work via vastly different principles.
The first and most obvious one is that people drop stuff on the floor. Nobody is perfect and while prepping food or cooking it, stuff will drop. It's even worse when there are dishes that are time critical. There's no time to pause and mop up the floor.
The second and more subtle reason is that when you are either pan-frying or frying you are really removing moisture via a precise process. The interaction of steam and oil which are immiscible turns the oil into a fine aerosol which because of the heat will rise in the air typically to a height of about 6-12 feet. When it cools off, it will rain down in miniscule droplets which are too fine to even see. If your kitchen has air movement of any sort or a draft, these droplets will travel at a height before they cool off enough to rain down.
(For those of you who wear glasses, there is a simple empirical test to demonstrate this. After you have finished frying, touch the inside of your glasses. It will be oily because the aerosol has rained down from above into the gap. If it were just splattering directly the inside would be absolutely clean.)
This is not the only problem. The aerosol tends to be highly ionized and will attract ionic molecules. Dust tends to be ionic for many complex reasons so these microscopic splatters will attract the neighboring dust to them where they will cluster. When it gets large enough, you will notice it as being "dirty".
(This is the same reason that your television, computer screen, computer fans, electronic equipment, get disproportionately dusty. They are attracting ionic dust because the surfaces are mildly ionized themselves. In the case of computer hardware, highly ionized.)
The third common reason is that of the bubbling of a sauce (think: tomato sauce). When the viscosity of a sauce gets really thick, the water is trying to escape in the form of steam but the sauce is so thick that it doesn't allow the tiny bubbles to rise to the surface. They form lots of tiny bubbles internally which coalesce inside the sauce to form a large bubble. The large bubble can counteract the density of the sauce and rises to the top. When this large bubble pops at the surface, it splatters the sauce all over. Generally, these sauces are easy to clean which is why experienced cooks just do a quick clean right after they finish unlike the oil splatters which are so tiny as to be practically invisible. It also helps to keep the sauce bubbling at a lower speed.
Experienced chefs also use splatter screens although the CC will be the first to point out that they are not always practical and not always applicable to certain styles of dishes.
Armed with this knowledge, go forth and cook! (and clean!)
Thursday, March 13, 2014
The Irritating Clichés Strike Again
Here's a list of phrases that the CC believes should be banned from reviews or food writing in general.
They suggest a lazy approach to writing. A lack of a thesaurus and/or a complete absence of a deep pool of metaphors from which to draw upon.
They suggest a lazy approach to writing. A lack of a thesaurus and/or a complete absence of a deep pool of metaphors from which to draw upon.
sinfully rich - Who the fuck made it "sinful"?Feel free to add your own in the comments.
extravagant tipples - Nobody below the age of 70 calls them "tipples".
cooked to perfection - As opposed to "cooked with numerous flaws"?!?
meltingly tender - If it's not fondue, don't use it.
pillowy - Have you bitten down on your pillow lately?
-tastic - Completely -tackalicious!
toothsome - Nobody enjoys dental work.
yummy - NO!
heavenly - There's no such place and no such thing.
to die for - Would you really? Really?!?
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
No, This is Not a Restaurant!
Many a home cook is dazzled by the sparkling execution of amazing dishes in restaurants and then they find themselves slightly disappointed when they try to recreate it at home.
Quelle surprise!
A restaurant is a professional enterprise whose goal is to make money in exchange for fine food. Your home is where you need to make food daily. There are significant differences between the two kitchens.
Firstly, there's just a question of simple energy. Unless you have a professional range stove at home, there is no way you are pumping out the BTU like that of a professional kitchen. You need power. Real power. Power that makes it hard to breathe in the heat. Most restaurant kitchens are insanely hot. So fuggedaboutit. You don't have it. Just enjoy the meal when you go out and forget about reproducing it. Certain dishes are impossible to cook at home.
Secondly, only someone who has never gone behind the scenes at the finest of professional restaurants would assume that they grind pepper out of the ludicrous pepper grinders. It's all pre-ground. The salt and pepper is sitting in large bowls which they can use to toss by the handful. And they do toss by the handful!
The single biggest difference between a restaurant and "home cooking" is that a restaurant uses vastly more salt. The CC believes that most people go for it under the rubric of "indulgence" which a spirit of abstemiousness prevents at home.
The same is true of the "fresh" spices. Pre-chopped. So are almost all of the ingredients. It's all pre-prepped and sitting in a refrigerator including the fish. Particularly the fish.
Thirdly, the idea that they are going to whip up a five-course meal for you at the drop of a pin is beyond ridiculous. Of course, it's all fuckin' pre-made. The sauces are pre-made. Everything is. How do you think you get a dish on your plate that takes hours to make within minutes?
Fourthly, it's only the last step of the execution that is left to the kids. And yes, they are kids. They are in training in the kitchen. Yes, they may have talent but no famous chef has ever made your meal not unless you are a billionaire.
Ironically, it's the third fact that cuts two ways and there are two separate lessons that one may learn from it.
The easiest way for a great home cook to compete with a restaurant is to offer meals at dinner parties which rely on speed of execution. Last minute speed where reheating would kill the product. A fancy restaurant can't compete simply because of the economics. (Incidentally, when you have great meals in Madrid, Rome, Istanbul, Mumbai and Singapore, this is the trick. The restaurants run in cheap rent districts. They are playing this game.)
The second more pragmatic version is that you need to learn what can be made ahead of time. This is crucial to greatness in the home kitchen.
So go ahead. Say it already. Liberate yourself.
No, this is not a restaurant. This is entirely different!
Quelle surprise!
A restaurant is a professional enterprise whose goal is to make money in exchange for fine food. Your home is where you need to make food daily. There are significant differences between the two kitchens.
Firstly, there's just a question of simple energy. Unless you have a professional range stove at home, there is no way you are pumping out the BTU like that of a professional kitchen. You need power. Real power. Power that makes it hard to breathe in the heat. Most restaurant kitchens are insanely hot. So fuggedaboutit. You don't have it. Just enjoy the meal when you go out and forget about reproducing it. Certain dishes are impossible to cook at home.
Secondly, only someone who has never gone behind the scenes at the finest of professional restaurants would assume that they grind pepper out of the ludicrous pepper grinders. It's all pre-ground. The salt and pepper is sitting in large bowls which they can use to toss by the handful. And they do toss by the handful!
The single biggest difference between a restaurant and "home cooking" is that a restaurant uses vastly more salt. The CC believes that most people go for it under the rubric of "indulgence" which a spirit of abstemiousness prevents at home.
The same is true of the "fresh" spices. Pre-chopped. So are almost all of the ingredients. It's all pre-prepped and sitting in a refrigerator including the fish. Particularly the fish.
Thirdly, the idea that they are going to whip up a five-course meal for you at the drop of a pin is beyond ridiculous. Of course, it's all fuckin' pre-made. The sauces are pre-made. Everything is. How do you think you get a dish on your plate that takes hours to make within minutes?
Fourthly, it's only the last step of the execution that is left to the kids. And yes, they are kids. They are in training in the kitchen. Yes, they may have talent but no famous chef has ever made your meal not unless you are a billionaire.
Ironically, it's the third fact that cuts two ways and there are two separate lessons that one may learn from it.
The easiest way for a great home cook to compete with a restaurant is to offer meals at dinner parties which rely on speed of execution. Last minute speed where reheating would kill the product. A fancy restaurant can't compete simply because of the economics. (Incidentally, when you have great meals in Madrid, Rome, Istanbul, Mumbai and Singapore, this is the trick. The restaurants run in cheap rent districts. They are playing this game.)
The second more pragmatic version is that you need to learn what can be made ahead of time. This is crucial to greatness in the home kitchen.
So go ahead. Say it already. Liberate yourself.
No, this is not a restaurant. This is entirely different!
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Sprouted Lentils
The CC is a total sucker for sprouted lentils.
What you get in the supermarkets sucks but the process of sprouting lentils is shockingly easy.
Even in the dead of this frozen winter, the CC has had no problems getting them to sprout. The reason is that sprouting is an exothermic process which means that the sprouts themselves are giving up both heat and moisture.
You soak the sprouts overnight at first; then put them in a cheese cloth in a transparent bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Put in a warm spot that gets some indirect light. Each day you must wash them to make sure that they stay moist and remove any possible fungal buildup. They will sprout like champs in two days. Wed. night soaking for Sat. breakfast (Thu. for Sun.)
Easy peasy.
The following is a great breakfast dish as nutritious as it is simple.
Ingredients
3 cups sprouted lentils
pinch of asafetida
1 tbsp. dhanajeeru (coriander and cumin roasted and powdered)
1 tsp. red chili powder
oil
salt (to taste)
1 lime (cut into quarters)
Recipe
Fry some oil in a pan. Toss in the asafoetida and fry for a bit. Toss in the dhanajeeru and the red chilli powder and the sprouts. Sautée for 2-3 minutes.
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.
It's done when the beans are cooked and the liquid is still a little watery but not soupy.
Serve at once squeezing the lime on top. The CC loves sopping up the broth with a crusty baguette.
What you get in the supermarkets sucks but the process of sprouting lentils is shockingly easy.
Even in the dead of this frozen winter, the CC has had no problems getting them to sprout. The reason is that sprouting is an exothermic process which means that the sprouts themselves are giving up both heat and moisture.
You soak the sprouts overnight at first; then put them in a cheese cloth in a transparent bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Put in a warm spot that gets some indirect light. Each day you must wash them to make sure that they stay moist and remove any possible fungal buildup. They will sprout like champs in two days. Wed. night soaking for Sat. breakfast (Thu. for Sun.)
Easy peasy.
The following is a great breakfast dish as nutritious as it is simple.
Ingredients
3 cups sprouted lentils
pinch of asafetida
1 tbsp. dhanajeeru (coriander and cumin roasted and powdered)
1 tsp. red chili powder
oil
salt (to taste)
1 lime (cut into quarters)
Recipe
Fry some oil in a pan. Toss in the asafoetida and fry for a bit. Toss in the dhanajeeru and the red chilli powder and the sprouts. Sautée for 2-3 minutes.
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.
It's done when the beans are cooked and the liquid is still a little watery but not soupy.
Serve at once squeezing the lime on top. The CC loves sopping up the broth with a crusty baguette.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Panch Phoran
The CC has posted about this classical Bengali five-spice mixture before but the sheer beauty of the spices compelled him to post it again.
It composes of equal parts of cumin, fennel seeds, fenugreek seeds, nigella, and radhuni.
The CC is aware that most online sources suggest mustard seeds but this is wrong. The spices may be fried in mustard oil but you need to have radhuni which are arguably closer in flavor to celery seeds than anything else.
It composes of equal parts of cumin, fennel seeds, fenugreek seeds, nigella, and radhuni.
The CC is aware that most online sources suggest mustard seeds but this is wrong. The spices may be fried in mustard oil but you need to have radhuni which are arguably closer in flavor to celery seeds than anything else.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Cactus "Fries" Tacos
Cactii (nopales) are hell to clean. They have both thorns ("modified branches") and spines ("modified leaves"). Generally speaking, the thorns have been cut away before you even buy them but the spines are the size of an individual hair and extraordinarily sharp.
The CC got one stuck in his thumb when he picked up some paddles at the Mexican grocery store and there was hell to pay for three days until he finally managed to get it out.
Of course, this is a defense mechanism against omnivores like us who like to eat them.
Cleaning them is a slightly laborious process. You first have to cut away the spines on the edges so that you can even grasp it flat. Then, you have to scrape away each individual one with a sharp paring knife cutting against the direction of the spine. You need to remove not only the spine but the hard bumps as well. It's best done in the sink with occasional washings under running water.
The cactus as this point will ooze slimy juice which is its defense mechanism against getting injured. You need to wash this away.
You will need to carefully inspect the entire paddle with your fingers to make sure you haven't left any spines in there. You don't want these babies stuck in your throat!
Finally, it must be dried before you can cook it in the recipe below. (There are other ways e.g. boiling for which this is not necessary.)
Is this all worth it? You betcha!
They have a unique taste that's sort of like green beans but with a more tart flavor. They are absolutely terrific with eggs as well just like asparagus but with a sharper flavor.
Ingredients
(makes 8 tacos)
1 medium sized cactus
1/2 cup flour
1 egg
1 cup panko breadcrumbs
salt
ground cumin
chili powder
8 small tortillas
1 small onion (cut into thin rings)
lettuce strips
1/2 cup salsa roja
queso fresco (crumbled)
lime (cut into quarters)
Recipe
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Prepare a flat baking tray on which you assemble the cactus "fries".
Cut the cactus into long thin strips that are about 1/2" across and 2 1/2" long. Each tacos will be stuffed with 3-4 of these.
Assemble three bowls. One with the flour, one with the beaten egg and one with panko breadcrumbs. Coat a cactus piece with egg; dunk it in the flour; dunk it back in the egg; roll in the breadcrumbs and lay it out on the flat sheet. Repeat with the rest.
Bake for 12 minutes in the oven. Check at the 10 minute mark. You want the panko breadcrumbs to be golden brown. Pull out.
Meanwhile, each tortilla must be heated on a griddle (comal) and kept under a pair of paper towels (or kitchen cloths) to keep them moist and flexible.
Assemble the tacos. Each taco is topped with a few cactus fries, some onion, lettuce, a quick drizzle of the salsa roja and the queso fresco crumbled on top.
Make sure you squeeze a lime on it right before you eat it. A dash or two of hot sauce is also a great addition.
The CC got one stuck in his thumb when he picked up some paddles at the Mexican grocery store and there was hell to pay for three days until he finally managed to get it out.
Of course, this is a defense mechanism against omnivores like us who like to eat them.
Cleaning them is a slightly laborious process. You first have to cut away the spines on the edges so that you can even grasp it flat. Then, you have to scrape away each individual one with a sharp paring knife cutting against the direction of the spine. You need to remove not only the spine but the hard bumps as well. It's best done in the sink with occasional washings under running water.
The cactus as this point will ooze slimy juice which is its defense mechanism against getting injured. You need to wash this away.
You will need to carefully inspect the entire paddle with your fingers to make sure you haven't left any spines in there. You don't want these babies stuck in your throat!
Finally, it must be dried before you can cook it in the recipe below. (There are other ways e.g. boiling for which this is not necessary.)
Is this all worth it? You betcha!
They have a unique taste that's sort of like green beans but with a more tart flavor. They are absolutely terrific with eggs as well just like asparagus but with a sharper flavor.
Ingredients(makes 8 tacos)
1 medium sized cactus
1/2 cup flour
1 egg
1 cup panko breadcrumbs
salt
ground cumin
chili powder
8 small tortillas
1 small onion (cut into thin rings)
lettuce strips
1/2 cup salsa roja
queso fresco (crumbled)
lime (cut into quarters)
Recipe
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Prepare a flat baking tray on which you assemble the cactus "fries".
Cut the cactus into long thin strips that are about 1/2" across and 2 1/2" long. Each tacos will be stuffed with 3-4 of these.
Assemble three bowls. One with the flour, one with the beaten egg and one with panko breadcrumbs. Coat a cactus piece with egg; dunk it in the flour; dunk it back in the egg; roll in the breadcrumbs and lay it out on the flat sheet. Repeat with the rest.
Bake for 12 minutes in the oven. Check at the 10 minute mark. You want the panko breadcrumbs to be golden brown. Pull out.
Meanwhile, each tortilla must be heated on a griddle (comal) and kept under a pair of paper towels (or kitchen cloths) to keep them moist and flexible.
Assemble the tacos. Each taco is topped with a few cactus fries, some onion, lettuce, a quick drizzle of the salsa roja and the queso fresco crumbled on top.
Make sure you squeeze a lime on it right before you eat it. A dash or two of hot sauce is also a great addition.
R.I.P. Tarla Dalal
The CC just found out that Tarla Dalal passed away a few months ago.
A housewife who turned her skills at cooking into a food empire, her books were the original recipe books in modern-day Indian vegetarian cooking. She was no academic but she was a terrific home cook. Her focus was the vegetarian recipes of India and beyond. She changed the food habits of an entire generation of housewives.
"Every recipe is guaranteed to work!" was her catchphrase.
And they absolutely do.
Her recipes were scrupulously researched initially by her and then when she had "made it" by an army of assistants at a time when it was unusual to even think of such an idea. They are literally perfect. There are no mistakes which is a rare and wonderful achievement in any domain.
R.I.P.
A housewife who turned her skills at cooking into a food empire, her books were the original recipe books in modern-day Indian vegetarian cooking. She was no academic but she was a terrific home cook. Her focus was the vegetarian recipes of India and beyond. She changed the food habits of an entire generation of housewives.
"Every recipe is guaranteed to work!" was her catchphrase.
And they absolutely do.
Her recipes were scrupulously researched initially by her and then when she had "made it" by an army of assistants at a time when it was unusual to even think of such an idea. They are literally perfect. There are no mistakes which is a rare and wonderful achievement in any domain.
R.I.P.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Parsley, Potato & Parmesan Soup
The CC was confused. How come he saw fresh parsley along with the usual panoply of winter vegetables at the farmers' market?
Turns out that parsley is a biennial and has another component that is not generally well known — parsley root which as a winter vegetable is not very different from turnips, parsnips or potatoes.
This French-style soup which uses fresh parsley is just perfect for chasing away the winter blues.
Ingredients
1 large bunch of parsley
2 medium potatoes (peeled and chopped)
1 medium onion
5-6 cloves garlic
butter or olive oil (or a mixture)
4 cups broth
1 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano
salt
black pepper
Recipe
First prepare an ice bath.
Wash the parsley discarding all thick roots. Leave the thinner ones on. In a large bowl, pour boiling water over the parsley and let it blanch for about a minute. Plunge the parsley into the ice bath. This helps preserve the vibrant green color otherwise you will end up with a dull green soup.
Heat the olive oil in a pan. Sautée the onions and the garlic for 6-8 minutes at a low heat. Fry the potatoes for at least 8 minutes till they are fraying around the edges and coated with the fat.
Add the stock, salt to taste, black pepper and bring to a boil. Simmer at a low heat for 25-30 minutes until the potatoes are soft. (It really depends on the size of the pieces.)
Skim the fat as it comes to the surface.
Add the parsley to the soup and blend really fine. Add the parmesan. Bring to a quick simmer again and serve.
You can pass the soup through a fine sieve if you want a really smooth version. A drizzle of crème fraîche works great for serving as would a crumbling of blue cheese.
Turns out that parsley is a biennial and has another component that is not generally well known — parsley root which as a winter vegetable is not very different from turnips, parsnips or potatoes.
This French-style soup which uses fresh parsley is just perfect for chasing away the winter blues.
Ingredients1 large bunch of parsley
2 medium potatoes (peeled and chopped)
1 medium onion
5-6 cloves garlic
butter or olive oil (or a mixture)
4 cups broth
1 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano
salt
black pepper
Recipe
First prepare an ice bath.
Wash the parsley discarding all thick roots. Leave the thinner ones on. In a large bowl, pour boiling water over the parsley and let it blanch for about a minute. Plunge the parsley into the ice bath. This helps preserve the vibrant green color otherwise you will end up with a dull green soup.
Heat the olive oil in a pan. Sautée the onions and the garlic for 6-8 minutes at a low heat. Fry the potatoes for at least 8 minutes till they are fraying around the edges and coated with the fat.
Add the stock, salt to taste, black pepper and bring to a boil. Simmer at a low heat for 25-30 minutes until the potatoes are soft. (It really depends on the size of the pieces.)
Skim the fat as it comes to the surface.
Add the parsley to the soup and blend really fine. Add the parmesan. Bring to a quick simmer again and serve.
You can pass the soup through a fine sieve if you want a really smooth version. A drizzle of crème fraîche works great for serving as would a crumbling of blue cheese.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Pomiane's Tarragon
The CC has mentioned Edouard de Pomiane before.
Whenever the CC reads all these articles about city-slickers waxing eloquent about gardens and farming, he is reminded of a wonderful paragraph from Cooking with Pomiane. The recipe is "New Potatoes with Tarragon".
Whenever the CC reads all these articles about city-slickers waxing eloquent about gardens and farming, he is reminded of a wonderful paragraph from Cooking with Pomiane. The recipe is "New Potatoes with Tarragon".
I used to fancy myself as a botanist, but my illusions were shattered when I asked a charming young saleswoman for seeds of parsley, chervil and tarragon. "Tarragon does not produce a fertile seed," she replied. "If you want a plant, here you are. In three years it will die. Come back again and see me."
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