Lemon Cucumber & Tomato Salad

My zucchini plants keeled over last week. I had so much hope for them, cared for them, and resisted eating the flowers so that they could produce fruit. Alas, after battling off fungus gnats, aphids, and even maggots, it was stem rot that finally did them in. I stared sadly at the orange fungus that had eaten halfway through the base of the plant and knew there was nothing I could do to save them.

The zucchini plants weren't the only ones I mourned last week. I'm also growing an heirloom cucumber known as Lemon Cucumbers (when they're ripe they are the color and shape of lemons). For a while now they were looking kind of sad too. The leaves had developed spots of dusty white mildew, and while the fruit was getting bigger and ripening, they weren't producing any new flowers or tendrils. So I pulled the vines out of the pot. It was just in time, it seems - there was a little stem rot on one of the plants too. I sowed new seeds and they've already germinated, so maybe I'll have a second chance at some late season cukes.

I was able to salvage a few ripe cucumbers though, and it's amazing how quickly they start to shrivel up without the commercial wax coating that you get on store-bought produce. So what to do with them? Inspired by an heirloom tomato salad we served while I was at "Restaurant BB," I paired slices of cucumber with two kinds of home-grown basil and fresh tomatoes.

I've been growing both Greek Basil, and the more commonly seen Genovese Basil. You may have seen Greek Basil at the Farmer's Market, but for those of you who are not familiar, it's a bushy compact plant. It produces pretty little leaves that are smaller, rounder and more densely grouped than the Genovese variety. I tucked a bunch of seedlings into my tomato pot and they've grown so well, they actually need regular pruning.  Unfortunately the homegrown heirloom tomatoes weren't ripe yet, so I had to settle for store bought. Still, a simple drizzle of olive oil and white balsamic vinegar, and a sprinkle of sea salt and pepper was just enough to bring out the sweetness of the tomatoes without overpowering the delicate flavor of the cucumbers.

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Boyfriend and I enjoyed this salad with a simple pan seared rib steak and oven roasted potatoes. If you're not a gardener, you may find Lemon Cucumbers and Greek Basil at your local farmer's market. White balsamic vinegar adds just the right amount of acidity and sweetness, but if you can't find that you can substitute sherry vinegar.

INGREDIENTS (serves 2, generously):

2 lemon cucumbers

2 medium tomatoes

a handful of fresh Greek Basil, picked

a few leaves of fresh Genovese Basil, chiffonade

2 Tbsp. good olive oil

1 Tbsp. white balsamic vinegar

coarse sea salt

freshly ground black pepper

PROCEDURE:

Slice the cucumber and tomatoes. I like to use a combination of slices and wedges.

Combine the olive oil and vinegar, and a pinch of salt and pepper in a medium bowl. Gently toss the cucumbers in the bowl first, then remove them and dress the tomatoes.

Arrange the cucumber and tomatoes on a plate. If desired, drizzle some more of the dressing over them. Then top with the fresh basil and a sprinkle of sea salt.

Call Me Cookie

Mike*, one of our garde manger cooks just took a few days off to help his girlfriend move from Syracuse to Brooklyn.  When Mike returned, Javier, the Spanish-speaking pastry cook greeted him with a loud and enthusiastic "Cookie! We missed you Cookie!"  The sous-chef turned to me and asked, "Why do you guys call him Cookie?" I explained that whenever Mike walked by Javier's station, he would scan the area for handouts, saying "Cookie? Cookie?"  So naturally Javier just started calling him "Cookie," and once everyone else heard it, the name stuck.

I'm not sure if it's true for other kitchens, but at my current workplace pretty much everyone has a nickname.  Maybe it's cultural, or maybe it's just easier to remember a descriptive nickname than one's real name, but the Spanish-speaking cooks rarely refer to one another by their given names.  Gringos are not excluded either, and most of us have nicknames assigned to us by the Spanish cooks, that are used by all.

Some nicknames are pretty obvious and present themselves immediately.  For instance, anyone of Asian descent is immediately dubbed Chino or China.  Not actually Chinese? Well then after a few reminders, one might be re-assigned Koreano or Japonesa.  One of the dishwashers is very proud of being from Guerrero, Mexico and insists on being called Guerrerensé, meaning both a person from Guerrero, and a warrior.  Another dishwasher, although he stands head to head with Guerrerense, is known as Enano, meaning dwarf  or little guy.  There's el Gordo, the fat prep cook, and Flaca, the line cook who apparently was really skinny until she had two kids.  The butcher, an older man, is referred to by the younger guys as Tío, or uncle, and Javier is sometimes referred to as el Padrino, or "the Godfather" - both names that also imply some level of respect.

Other nicknames present themselves after a cook has been around for a while, such as the case with "Cookie."  Wil, who has been working at the restaurant for several months now, has even more than one nickname.  He apparently bears striking resemblance to a character from a Spanish sitcom named Kiko, and being tall and lanky, has also been called Shaggy (as in Scooby's sidekick).  He wasn't too thrilled about the second moniker and has since threatened the life of the el Gordo, the cook who first called him Shaggy.  Most of the time I'm called China or Chinita, which is fine with me, but there was an instance when el Gordo tried to call me Pocahantas.  Now he has two hits out on his life.

For the most part, the nicknames are accepted as terms of endearment or friendship.  What you don't want, however, is a nickname that won't be said to your face.  Sonambulo or "Sleepwaker" was one sous chef who got fired after bungling his way through a busy Sunday service while his abilities were clearly impaired by booze and prescription pills. Despite a grand effort, the sous that followed was never truly able to win over the Spanish-speaking staff and was dubbed Sonambulo dos.  Burro or "donkey," universally accepted as the world's worst line cook, was eventually fired for being completely MIA for one of his scheduled shifts.  I'm sure all three had to have a clue but never got called to their faces.

So it may seem strange in our over-sensitized politically correct world, that el Gordo and Enano never seem to be offended by being openly called "Fatso" or "Midget."  In fact they prefer it.  One runner doesn't blink an eye at being called Boludo which means "jerk" or even "prick."  Ironically Boludo is in fact more of a sweet mama's boy.  So what's in a nickname?  El Gordo knows he's fat, Enano knows he's short, and maybe Boludo can see the irony in his nickname too.  They accept it, so by using their nicknames openly and without malice, perhaps in a way it shows that we accept them too. Once when I called Enano by his real name, he said "Enano, please."   Translation? My name is Pablo, but my friends call me Midget.

*As a courtesty, real names have not been used.  Just the nicknames are real.

Watching the Garden Grow

Yes, outside of working a lot, all I've been up to these days is obsessing over my plants.  It's hypnotic, relaxing and exciting all at the same time.  Every morning before work I tend to my little urban garden - watering if necessary, and cleaning up any dried leaves and flowers.  Afterward, I leave the balcony door open, sit down at the dining room table with my coffee and my laptop and just watch.  I love seeing honey bees come and go.  If they're doing a good job of pollinating, maybe we'll actually get some zucchini or cucumbers soon.

       

Lemon Cucumber Plant

On my day off, I take care of messier and more time consuming tasks like going to the garden center to pick up supplies, re-potting plants as they get bigger, and sowing new seeds to ensure a continual supply of fresh herbs.  That's also the day I wage war on pests.  There is a lot of great information on-line about natural and organic methods for warding off all manner of pests and disease that threaten plants.  Golden Harvest Organics not only sells seeds and gardening products, but they also post extensive information about organic gardening and natural pest control.  I purchased Neem Oil and Castille Soap to combat aphids, but apparently there are a number of other methods that can be employed.  They range from placing tin foil on the soil surface to reflect light to the underside of the plant leaves, where they usually hang out, to spraying them with a tea made from tomato leaves.  I'd love to get my hands on some ladybugs to do the job for me.

Squash Blossoms

Another pest which has been a big problem is the fungus gnat, which breeds in damp conditions conducive to mold and fungus.  It has rained almost every day this June, and while everything is lush and green, my balcony is now the perfect home for fungus gnats.  It's been nearly impossible to keep my plants dry. I removed the saucers from under all the pots since they only provided a breeding ground, and I covered the soil with cedar mulch to keep the surface dry.  Despite my best efforts, some pots got really heavily infested, and I had to resort to an organic insecticide to keep them under control.   Gnatrol, which I also purchased from Golden Harvest Organics, is a brand of Bacillus thuringiensis israelensis a bacteria that targets the larvae living in the soil.  Apparently it biodegrades quickly, and is widely used for organic agricultural applications.  Although most of the information on the web indicates that it's safe for people and pets, the product safety sheet that came with advises measures taken to avoid direct contact with the product.  So I take the necessary precautions, and won't harvest anything to eat until the stuff has had a chance to degrade.

A server at the restaurant also has an organic garden on her rooftop, so we've traded both plants and ideas.  She has also had a big problem with fungus gnats and is using Nemotodes, a species of roundworm that eat fungus gnat larvae.

The first few plantings

Sadie in our urban oasis

The garden has become a great learning experience.  Through trial and error, and some help along the way, I have learned things like how to replant seedlings with enough of their stems embedded so they form strong root systems (thanks to an info sheet sent to me by Golden Harvest with my FREE mystery tomato seeds).  Sadly, some plants did succumb to my bumbling - to much water, too little water, not hardening off properly etc, but despite all the factors working against it, my little garden is showing lots of promise.  Most of the plants are in their permanent pots now and are growing rapidly. I've even been able to re-plant cuttings from overcrowded pots and get new plants.  The zucchini plants are producing squash blossoms now, and the lemon cucumber vines have already grabbed hold of the balcony railing and are threatening to take over.  There's cat grass for the feline members of our family, and best of all, I get to bond with our 9-month old puppy Sadie, who seems to love the garden as much as I do.

Sadie checking out some cuttings

Zen and the Art of Staff Meal

One of the most difficult tasks in a professional kitchen is the minimization of waste and the effective practice of kitchen economy.  The french term garde manger literally means "keep to eat."  In a kitchen it is the station where a beginning cook usually starts, and is responsible for all the cold preparations, such as terrines, pates and cured fish and meat.  Traditionally these delicacies are made from the scraps and by-products generated by the other stations, such as meat and fish trimmings, organ meats, and vegetable trimmings.  Items that can't be incorporated into a menu offering may be used for staff meal, more commonly referred to as "family meal."

I always find it funny when people assume that cooks always eat well, or gourmet.  The other day my dinner consisted of cheese fries and a scoop of coffee ice cream.  The reality for me as a beginning cook is that I am up to my neck in student loans, and I have two geriatric cats whose vet bills are through the roof.  For the most part my only meal of the day is probably family meal, so all I care about is that it's simple and delicious.

Some larger restaurants have cooks solely responsible for family meal, but not where I work.  There, the line cooks are also responsible for family meal.  On a busy night, that responsibility can get passed around like a hot potato.  I have a million things to do to be ready for service and on top of that I have to make family meal? But I've actually grown to enjoy making family meal.  You see, there is a lot of pressure to perform when you are cooking for paying customers at a Michelin starred restaurant.  Expectations are high and it is your job to fulfill them with every perfectly executed, perfectly identical plate you send out.  By comparison, making  family meal is actually kind of relaxing, like cooking for friends at home.  I follow a simple mantra:  stick to what you know and like to eat.  In fact, the more familiar the better - and for pete's sake if it's something you've never made before, there is no shame in starting with a recipe.  With all the other things I need to do every day, there's no time to waste trying to be the next Wylie Dufresne.

To make family meal as stress free as possible, I always take note of recipes in books or magazines that make use of the items we always seem to have for family meal, and can be made with inexpensive ingredients we always have in house.  Also as I cook, I make note of any new tricks I can add to my arsenal.  All recipes contain techniques that can be applied to new situations and ingredients, and boy do they come in handy trying to figure out how to make something tasty from randomly discarded food items.  Sure, there are a hundred and one things you can do with chicken wings, drumsticks, and ground beef.  There's Buffalo wings, Southern Fried Chicken, Beef and Black Bean Chili, Beef Gyros, Sloppy Joes, and Lasagne.  But what about fish scraps, beet greens, Swiss chard stems, and just the disgusting yellow hearts of Brussels sprouts?

A few months ago, the restaurant closed for five days for an on-location film shoot.  So a few days before Hollywood arrived, I was handed a crate full of brussels hearts, beet greens, and swiss chard stems and told to make sure they somehow got used for family meal before the movie shoot started. Because we had a couple of vegetarians on our front of house staff, I would usually try to incorporate these trimmings into hearty vegetarian options instead of simply making them into side dishes. I found that a Vegetable Torte was an excellent way to make use of the swiss chard stems, and eggs leftover from brunch.  More recently I used the recipe to get rid of leftover grilled leeks, peas, and potatoes.  To make my life even easier, I just omit the pastry crust and call it fritatta.  This made the vegetarians on staff quite happy.  One of our line cooks also brought a recipe from his last restaurant for Grilled Swiss Chard Stems dressed in a broken sherry vinaigrette with chili pepper flakes, which was also a crowd pleaser.

So what about those darn beet greens and brussels hearts?  Well, I love Indian pakoras, or vegetable fritters.  Made with potato, cauliflower, or spinach and onion (my personal favorite), they are absolutely delicious with fresh mint chutney.  Throw in a little mulligatawny (lentil) soup and nan bread and you've got a meal.  Voila, there was the solution to my beet green and brussels hearts challenge - vegetable fritters.  I simply substituted wilted beet greens for spinach, mixed them with grated onion in a flour and egg batter, and fried those babies up.  I blanched the brussels hearts in boiling water, then coated them in seasoned flour.  They fried up just like cauliflower pakoras.  Both were a hit.  The beet green fritters were crunchy on the outside and kind of custardy on the inside.  The brussels hearts were also nice and tender on the inside with just a little crispy crust.  They were so simple to make, and after all, deep frying makes just about anything taste better right?

Kitchen Tip: Greenest Fava Beans Ever

Fava beans, corn, tomatoes...all foods that remind us (in the northeast at least) that summer is just around the corner.

For the first time, I used the revered Thomas Keller's method of cooking fava beens - shuck first, then cook. I first read about it in his interviews in Michael Ruhlman's Soul of a Chef, and then in Keller's own French Laundry Cookbook. In theory, leaving the skin on the bean while it cooks traps gases inside which accelerate its oxidation. Shucking the beans before cooking preserves their color and flavor by allowing those gases to escape. I doubted if it really made a big difference, but now am totally convinced! Normally, I shell, then blanch, then shuck - the skins just slide right off this way. Still, no matter how careful I am to shuck the beans right after blanching, use tons of water to blanch, and make sure the favas are perfectly cooked, I can never avoid getting that little gray patch of oxidation that just seems to spread the longer the beans sit - and they're always a little slimy. Well not this time. Have you ever seen cooked favas so green?

I used them to make Succotash. Not only did they stay that green in the fridge as I prepared the rest of my ingredients, they even kept their color after being mixed in and warmed up with the rest of the succotash.

Granted, shucking before cooking is more difficult and a little more time consuming, but I'm converted. In addition to the eye appeal, pre-shucking allows the beans to cook faster, absorb seasoning better, and allows you to better monitor doneness by actually seeing their color brighten as they cook.

How to get the Greenest Fava Beans Ever:

1. Shell the beans. Discard any that seem yellow or discolored.

2. Shuck the beans.

3. Fill a large pot fitted with a blanching basket or metal steamer plate with generously salted, rapidly boiling water.

4. Fill a large bowl or another large pot with ice water.

5. Cook the fava beans in boiling water. Make sure there is enough water so that it comes right back to a boil after adding the beans.

6. Once the beans turn bright green, taste a few to make sure they are cooked. Lift the beans out of the boiling water and immediately plunge them into the ice water. This will stop them from overcooking and will preserve their color.

Try it with this Recipe: Simplest Succotash

June 28th, 2009

Dating back to colonial times, Succotash takes its name from the Narragansett msickquatash, a dish of corn and beans first introduced by Native Americans to English settlers.  Summer Succotash typically refers to the dish made with fresh corn and beans, while Winter Succotash might be made with dried corn and beans stewed with meat.  According to Evan Jones' American Food, Native Americans froze their Winter Succotash, and would use a tomahawk to chip off pieces to melt over a fire as needed.  Jones also describes several regional variations - lima beans were most often used in the South, while in New England, succotash might contain cranberry beans instead.  The Pennsylvania Dutch were even known for adding dumplings.  In the height of summer, when flavors are at their peak, it doesn't take much to bring corn together with fresh beans and tomatoes to make a deliciously Simple Succotash.

Here is a very simple recipe for a buttery succotash with fresh fava beans and plum tomatoes.  It's a great addition to backyard barbecues.

INGREDIENTS  (serves 4-6)

3-4  ears of fresh corn on the cob

4  roma (plum) tomatoes, peeled, seeds removed, and diced

1  cup fresh cooked fava beans, shelled and shucked

1-2  large shallots, peeled finely diced

2 large cloves of garlic, peeled and finely minced

1/2 cup heavy cream

2-3 Tbsp. butter

salt

cayenne pepper

fresh lemon juice (optional)

1-2 Tbsp. chopped fresh chives

PROCEDURE:

1.  Prepare all the ingredients.  Cut the corn kernels from the cob, then use a sturdy spoon to scrape the "milk" from the cob.  Reserve both separately.  See Peeling Fresh Tomatoes, and Greenest Fava Beans Ever! for tips on preparing the tomatoes and fava beans.

2.  In a shallow saucepan, melt a generous tablespoon of butter and cook the diced shallots over low heat until they are soft and transparent.  Add the garlic and cook for about 30 seconds until fragrant.

3.  Add the corn kernels and cook over medium heat just until they begin to turn bright yellow.  Add the corn "milk" and heavy cream.  Season with salt and a pinch of cayenne pepper and simmer over medium heat for 5-10 minutes so that the corn is cooked but still crisp, and the liquid is slightly reduced.

4.  Add the fava beans and tomatoes and just heat them through in the corn mixture.  The mixture should not be soupy, but there should be enough liquid to coat all the ingredients.  Remove from the heat, melt in a tablespoon of butter, and a dash of lemon juice if desired, and fresh chopped chives.

And theyeven stayed that green in the fridge as I prepared the rest of my ingredients, and after being mixed in and warmed up with the rest of the succotash.

April Showers

I had two days off this week - two rainy days.  Since I've started a little vegetable garden, I am actually appreciating the rainy days.  Why?  Well, the sunny windowsill in my apartment is getting a little overcrowded with seedlings now and the bigger ones just need to get outdoors.  Overcast, slightly rainy days are actually the perfect condition (or so I've read) to start hardening off, or getting seedlings accustomed to being outside.  A dry, sunny day can fry tender little seedlings, and temperatures too close to freezing are obviously no good either.  I've never really had a very green thumb so I've been taking lessons from Rose Marie Nichols-McGee and Maggie Stuckey in the form of their book, The Bountiful Container.

Jiffy pellets & mini greenhouse

I do however, have a singular childhood memory of picking cherry tomatoes in the summer, from the small garden that my mother used to have.  Even though I didn't like eating tomatoes as a child, I loved picking them - the smell of the vines, the light dusting of pollen on the fruit, and just being outside in the sun with my hands in the dirt.  Like I said, I wasn't crazy about tomatoes, but the homegrown variety were certainly far less offensive than the disgusting, mealy beefsteak tomatoes that were the grocery store standard at the time.  Now, with the presence of supermarkets like Whole Foods in the suburbs, and a wider choice of ethnic markets, and farmer's markets around the city we no longer have to settle for one mealy type of tomatoes.  Almost any kind of produce is available to the average consumer.  So why bother growing my own?  Freshness for one.  Sure, tomatoes, avacados and citrus fruits might be available year round at any local grocery, but they are being shipped thousands of miles from Mexico, Peru, and sunnier parts of the country like Florida and California.  How fresh can they possibly be?

So, every Spring I fall prey to a longing to move to someplace like California.  Anyone who had been to the farmer's market at San Francisco's Ferry Building can attest to the gorgeous and delicious array of fresh edibles available year round.  Still, I've known people who have grown up in the Northeast and moved to milder climates, only to return.  One of the most surprising reasons is that they miss the change of the seasons.   Deep down, I think I would miss the cycle of toughing out snowy blustery Winters that clear the way for the hopeful new blossoms of Spring; and the lushness of lazy Summers that always seem to be cut too short by the onset of Autumn.  The seasons change the way that we live, the way that we feel - both emotionally as well as physically - and the way that we eat.  So reason number two for growing my own vegetables is to find out first hand what eating seasonally and locally means by actually bringing my food from seed to table.

(Oh, and do I need to mention all the food scares in the media? Salmonella in pistachios and peanut butter? Melamine in baby formula?  At least I'll know where my vegetables came from.)

Well, you can't get more local, fresh, and seasonal than your own backyard.  For my first vegetable garden, I figured I'd keep it small and grow a few things from containers on the small balcony of my apartment.  The Bountiful Container does warn small space gardeners like me against going seed crazy - and wisely so.  Catalogs and online suppliers offer seeds for a dizzying array of vegetables and I could see how it might be easy to get over-ambitious.  As advised I made a plan, first limiting my purchases to heritage and organic seeds, then choosing produce we consume regularly, such as tomatoes, peppers, and zucchini, and herbs such as cilantro, oregano, and dill.  I also chose a few items that we were unlikely to find at the grocery, such as lemon chiles, lemon cucumbers, greek basil, and edible flowers.  Even with my plan, I think I may have gotten a little over-zealous myself.

Still, not a bad start.  I planted my first set of seedlings at the end of March using Jiffy peat pellets and a little plastic greenhouse tray.  I've had to re-pot the tomato plants once already and they are also outgrowing the deli-containers that I've been using as makeshift cloches to protect them from our cats.  This first set of seedlings are going outside this week to make room on the windowsill for the second set that I planted yesterday.

So with Spring comes hope - hope that my thumb gets a little greener, hope that my little seedlings will thrive outdoors, and hope that with some organization and a little help from mother nature, we will be able to enjoy the fruits of my labor from late May through September.

Getting Ready for St. Patrick's Day: Home Cured Corned Beef

Okay friends, if you're going to cure your own brisket for St. Patrick's day Corned Beef and Cabbage, you need to start TODAY. That baby needs at least 5 days of salt-curing before even going into the pot.  I may not be of Irish descent, but one of the great things about growing up in New York is that no matter where your parents are from, having Corned Beef on St. Patrick's day (or any day of the year for that matter) can be just as close to your heart as Roast Pork on Chinese New Year.  I'm drooling already, just thinking of Reuben sandwiches and fresh corned beef hash I'm going to make from the leftovers. Even though it's one of my favorite foods, this is the first time I've ever made Corned Beef (yeah, you boil it for a really long time, not rocket science) let alone cured my own brisket.  So I started curing a brisket earlier this week for a test run.

Corned beef is basically a brisket that has been preserved in salt (and spices).  Incidentally, pastrami is simply corned beef that has been smoked.  As with most foods that originated out of necessity (before refrigeration and refrigerated transport of course) we still continue this tradition for love of the the unique flavor and texture that salt-curing imparts.  The tradition of having corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick's Day is apparently of American origin.  According to the history channel, Irish Americans in the late 1800's substituted corned beef for the bacon that would have been traditional to their homeland.

For my maiden voyage into making Corned Beef and Cabbage, I went to my most reliable source - America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook.  I used their recipes for both the cure and the cook and true to their word, it was practically foolproof and had really great flavor.  Oh, by the way I didn't have plain paprika on hand, so I used smoked paprika, which added just a hint of smokiness.  One of the things about home-curing your brisket, of course, is being able to control the seasoning - a longer cure will result in a more flavorful brisket but too long a cure and it will be overly salty.  I went with a 5 day cure myself  and after taking the cured brisket out of the ziplock bag, you could even feel the difference.   I was fortunate enough to find a thicker well-marbled point cut brisket (as opposed to the thinner and leaner flat cut that is more widely available).  After curing, the once supple bright red piece of organic Whole-Foods, locally raised brisket had released most of it's moisture and was firmer, almost leathery.  This was a good sign of course.

As directed I simmered that sucker for 3 hours after which the recipe says a fork should slide easily into the center of the meat.  Hmm.  not quite.  It probably could have gone longer, since it would take much longer to overcook the brisket to the point that it would fall apart, but I thought a little resistance was better for slicing - and it was fine.  It sliced really nicely across the grain and the flavor was spot on.

By the way, the recipe calls for a 3-1/2 to 4-1/2 lb. brisket, but between curing and cooking, there is a lot of shrinkage, so it's actually not as much meat as it sounds like.  Oh, and don't worry if your home-cured corned beef is not as pink as store bought - you won't miss those nasty nitrates and nitrites that are sometimes commercially added to preserve color.

SOURCE: Adapted from the America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook

YIELD: Approximately 8 servings

INGREDIENTS:

for the cure:

1/2 c. kosher salt

1 Tbsp. cracked black peppercorns

1 Tbsp. dried thyme

2 tsp. allspice

2 tsp. paprika (or try smoked paprika)

2 bay leaves, crumbled

1 3-1/2 to 4-1/2 lb. beef brisket, trimmed

for cooking:

3 bay leaves

1 Tbsp. whole black peppercorns

1 Tbsp. whole mustard seeds

. Water

1-1/2 lbs. baby red or baby yukon gold potatoes

1-1/2 lbs. carrots, peeled and cut into thirds

1 2 lb. head of cabbage, cut into 8 wedges

Spicy deli-style mustard, for serving (I prefer Koscuisko brand for it's sharp horseradish-y flavor)

PROCEDURE:

1. Cure the brisket. Mix all the salt and spices together in a small bowl. Spear the brisket 30 times on each side with a meat fork or metal skewer. Rub each side evenly with the salt mixture then place it in a ziplock bag, forcing out as much air as possible. Put the brisket on a rimmed baking sheet and cover with a second one. Tape or tie the whole thing together and weigh it down with two bricks or large cans. Refrigerate, weighted, for 5 to 7 days. Rinse and pat the meat dry before cooking.

 2. To cook the brisket, add the corned beef, bay leaves, peppercorns, and mustard seeds in a large dutch oven or pot and cover by a 1/2 inch of water. Simmer for 2-3 hours until a fork slides easily into the center of the meat.

3. Transfer the meat and 1 cup of liquid to a baking dish and keep warm in a 200 degree oven while you cook the vegetables. Add the potatoes and carrots to the cooking liquid left in the pot and simmer until they begin to soften (10 minute). Then add the cabbage and simmer 10-15 minutes more or until all the vegetables are cooked.

4. To serve, remove the meat from the liquid and slice against the grain. Arrange the meat on a platter with the cooked vegetables and moisten with additional cooking liquid. Serve with spicy mustard on the side.

Note: Spearing and weighting down the brisket are essential steps for proper curing. I tried this once forgetting these steps and the cure didn't take so the brisket became rancid. Not pretty nor edible.

Braised Pork Belly Tacos

I’ve been getting quite the education on Mexican food and culture at work, since many of the kitchen staff and runners are from Mexico. Every Sunday, during their break between brunch and dinner, one of the runners picks up tacos and tortas from a nearby Mexican joint for the staff. My favorite is carnitas, or slow roasted pork, with a simple traditional garnish of lettuce, onions, cilantro, lime, and a choice of red or green salsa.

At home, I like to make soft tacos with braised pork belly. Yes, pork belly has become almost a culinary cliche and it seems every day another restaurant in the city jumps on the bandwagon. But it is a wonderfully forgiving and flavorful cut of meat and slow braising pork belly makes it ultra tender and moist.  It is the cut of pork that bacon is made from, so there is a lot of fat, but slow braising renders out a good deal of it anyway.  The acidity of salsa verde, pickled onion, and lime juice, and the bright citrusy flavor of cilantro balance out the rest.  This recipe is adapted from a demonstration given by Aaron Sanchez at the French Culinary Institute while I was a student there.

You will  note that the recipe calls for annatto paste.  Derived from the seed pods of the achiote tree, it is commonly used in Central and South American cooking to add color and flavor.  I find it adds more color than flavor so you can omit it if you don't have any on hand.  Incidentally, annatto is also the pigment that gives Cheddar cheese it's orange glow.

Ingredients, for 4-6 servings

For the pork:

2-½ lbs. boneless skinless pork belly, cut into large chunks approx. 4 oz. each

1 c. fresh squeezed orange juice

1 c. white distilled vinegar

4-6 cloves garlic, crushed

1-2 Tbsp. annatto paste

crushed red pepper (optional)

salt & pepper

vegetable oil

For the garnishes:

thinly sliced lettuce

fresh cilantro leaves

tomatillo salsa (salsa verde)

pickled onion, finely diced

lime wedges

2 dozen soft corn tortillas

Procedure:

1.  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and position the rack in the center of the oven.

2.  Lightly score the pork belly on the fat side by making a few 1/8" deep cuts.  Generously season the pork belly with salt and pepper.  Heat a few tablespoons of oil in a large skillet or flame-proof roasting dish over medium high heat until it shimmers.  Lightly sear the pieces of pork belly on each side.

Pork Belly, skin removed and cut into chunks

3.  Drain the excess fat from the pan and position the pieces of belly with the fat side down.  Add the orange juice, vinegar, garlic, annatto paste, and a pinch of crushed red pepper so that the liquid comes halfway up the pieces of meat. Cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil and bake in the oven 1-1/2 to 2 hours until the meat pulls apart easily with a fork.

Annato Paste

4. While the pork is cooking, prepare the garnishes.

5.  When the pork is cooked, let it rest covered in the cooking liquid for 5-10 minutes before pulling apart.  Once it has rested, shred the meat with a pair of forks, or your fingers and mix it with just enough of the braising liquid to coat each morsel.  Add salt to taste.

Braised Pork Belly

6.  Heat the tortillas one at a time in a dry skillet (cast iron works best) over medium-low heat until they are soft and keep them warm, wrapped in aluminum foil or a clean towel.

7.  To serve, place a little lettuce in a tortilla and top with pork.  Squeeze a little lime juice on the pork, and garnish with some pickled onion, salsa, and fresh cilantro leaves.

Quick Pickled Onions

A brief soak in a salty brine mellows the flavor of finely diced raw onion by essentially "cooking" it. Here is an easy recipe for quick pickled onion, that can be used as a classic garnish for Mexican tacos, Texas Chili, or Rhode Island Hot Weiners.

Ingredients:
1 cup white or yellow onion, finely diced or minced
1 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 to 3/4 c. white distilled vinegar

Procedure:
In a clean, non-reactive container, toss the onions with the salt.  Pour in enough of the distilled vinegar to cover the onions.  Let sit for 10-15 minutes before using.  Store tightly covered in the refrigerator for up to 10 days.

Tomatillo Salsa (Mexican Salsa Verde)

Though related to tomatoes, tomatillos should not be mistaken for green unripe tomatoes.  Unlike tomatoes, tomatillos have a thin papery husk that breaks open as it ripens.  The fruit itself has a tart citrus like flavor that is the signature of Mexican salsa verde.   The skin of the tomatillo is somewhat tough so it needs to be blanched in boiling water to soften the skin before using.

Fresh tomatillos

This is a basic recipe for tomatillo salsa (Salsa Verde) adapted from the one my fellow cooks use for family meal.

Ingredients, makes about 2 cups:

1 lb. fresh tomatillos, husks removed (approx. 4)

1-2 fresh jalepeno peppers (more if you like it hot)

1 small onion, chopped

1 bunch of fresh cilantro leaves, finely chopped

1/2 tsp. cumin

1 Tbsp. lime juice

salt, to taste

Procedure:

1.  Bring a large pot of water to a boil.  Add the tomatillos and jalepenos and cook until the tomatillos turn yellow.  Remove both the tomatillos and the jalepenos and cool them in ice water. Drain.

Blanched tomatillos

2.  Remove the stems from the tomatillos and jalepenos.  Combine all the ingredients in a blender or food processor and pulse until the mixture is a rough puree.

3.  For a more chunky salsa, blanch only the tomatillos, cool them in ice water, drain, then dice.  Stem and de-seed the jalepenos and finely dice them.  Combine the diced tomatillos and jalepenos with the remaining ingredients.

Learning to Love Queens: Flushing, NY

I got into a car accident a little over a month ago, which left the driver's side of my vehicle pretty banged up.  The repairs were just completed, so I went to pick up my car at the collision shop in Queens.  When I got there, I found they still needed to make some adjustments so I had about a half hour to kill and scope out some cheap eats for lunch.  Queens is the largest and most ethnically diverse borough in New York City, so there are a lot of options.  This post barely begins to scratch the surface of what's available out there.

the bustling intersection where Main street and Kissena Boulevard merge

The shop is located at a bustling commercial hub right at the end of the no. 7 subway line in the heart of Flushing.  One of the largest communities in Queens, Flushing boasts a larger Chinese population than Manhattan's Chinatown, and for $2 a ride, you can take a shuttle bus directly from one to the other.  The neighborhood is home many other ethnicities though:  Korean, Vietnamese, Indian, Mexican, Colombian, and West Indian, just to name a few.

Growing up, I spent many Sunday afternoons here, accompanying my mom as she did her weekly grocery shopping.  I had forgotten how crowded the streets were - there is definitely a different perception of personal space and many of the immigrants who live and work here are accustomed to overcrowded cities such as Hong Kong, Shanghai and Mumbai.  Indeed, to look around at all the different faces and storefronts bearing signs in an array of foreign languages, one might even feel as if he or she had been transported to another country.  There is a vibrant yet frenetic energy that can be somewhat overwhelming.  Nobody thinks twice about crossing against the light, double-parking or stopping in the middle of an intersection.  I couldn't help feeling a little like the foreigner here, cheerfully walking around with my earth-friendly canvas bag from Whole Foods as other pedestrians shoved past me, chattering to their friends in languages I couldn't understand and hurrying about their business.  Yet despite their differences, the many ethnic groups have found a way to co-exist here.

Get your noodle fix til 5 a.m.

The first stop on my half-hour mini-tour was a tiny dumpling stand next to the commuter rail station.  I was craving a roast pork bun - marinated roasted pork tenderloin, chopped and baked inside a brioche-like bun.   So I asked for a "cha tsu bao."  Instead the clerk handed me a small Styrofoam box containing four small pork dumplings.  I explained that I wanted a pork bun and he said it was called "da bao."  I was confused.  "Cha tsu" definitely means roast pork, "bao" means bun, and that's what I've been calling them all my life.  "Da-bao" turned out to be a doughy white steamed bun filled with a pork meatball, still not what I wanted.  I tried to explain again and the clerk finally told me that they didn't make "cha tsu bao."  So I paid for my "da-bao" and continued along my way.  Despite the confusion my "da bao" was delicious.  Even though the stand is tiny, all the dumplings appear to be made on a couple of stoves behind the counter.  And what a location!  I imagine the stand must be pretty busy during the morning rush hour, with commuters lining up to grab a quick "bao" before getting on the train.

Forget about doughnuts and coffee, this trainstop stand sells tea and dumplings instead

So, nibbling on my "da bao" I continued up Main Street past several shops selling knick-knacks (and knock offs too, probably), and a number of small groceries with outdoor fruit stands.  There were also a couple Chinese herbal shops displaying boxes of dried ginseng, seaweed, mushrooms and gobi berries outside.  It reminded me of mom's medicinal broths - bitter brews of chicken stock, ginseng and all manner of dried roots and mushrooms.  One formula was supposed to be good for your immune system, another "cleansed your blood" and yet another was "good for women."  As a child I often had to hold my nose to drink them down, but now I was making a mental note to learn more about these traditional remedies.

Just a few storefronts south of the big public library on Main Street, I found a little Latino eatery nestled among all the Asian ones.  The awning simply read "Latin Bakery & Restaurant" then underneath "Pollos y Carne a la Brasa."  Hmmm.  I suddenly had a craving for empanadas, so I checked inside to make sure there were indeed Spanish speaking patrons and employees inside (I've seen way too many Chinese-run "Tex-Mex" take-out joints in Queens that make burritos strangely reminiscent of moo-shu).  This place seemed promising.  All the menu offerings were listed in Spanish and included lunch specials of roast chicken, chicharron (fried pork rind), and tongue, with rice or potatoes and salad - all for under $10.  But I wanted empanadas, so I ordered one beef and one chicken empanada with salsa - both for about $3.  The chicken and the beef were really tender, moist and flavorful, and I appreciated that the two had different seasonings. I did happen to be in the neighborhood again that week and stopped in a second time at the Latin Bakery to get my empanada fix.  Maybe they had been sitting in the case for a while, but for some reason the pastry on the beef one that day was a little tough and chewy.  Boyfriend was with me and he ordered some chicarrones, which were not that crispy, also probably from sitting under the heat lamps.  The soup that day, Sopa de Tostones seemed to be flying across the counter, so I asked for a cup to go.  It was a comforting stew of green plaintains (tostones), potato, and beef that was so tender it just fell apart.  Hearty and delicious, with topping of their cilantro salsa verde, it was clear why this sopa was so popular with the regulars.

Beef empanada

Munching on my empanadas, I rounded the corner at the library and headed up Kissena Boulevard.  As I finished the last bite of beef, I noticed a little stand selling bubble tea -the perfect dessert drink to finish off my wanderer's lunch.  My personal favorite is the taro milk tea and every time I'm in the neighborhood I have to have one.  The creamy iced milk drink has purple tinge from the taro and comes with a giant straw to sip up chewy marble sized pearls of black tapioca from the bottom.  Aside from the fact that I love the flavor, there's a strange, childish appeal to sipping the flavored milk, then fishing around with the straw for the bits of tapioca.  It's kind of like drinking Nestle Quik with bits of Jello, but not gross like that sounds.  Anyway, bubble tea in hand, it realized it was time I made my way back to the collision shop to retrieve my car.

Taro milk bubble tea

Another day I met my parents in Flushing for lunch at Phô Vietnamese noodle house on Prince Street.  My mother ordered classic phô: thin rice noodles in a clear broth with thin slices of beef.  My father had phô with marinated grilled chicken, and I ordered a beef satay noodle bowl instead.  A tray on each table held the usual condiments:  siracha, chili sambal, fish sauce, soy sauce, sugar...oh, and salt and pepper of course.  The waiter also brought a plate of fresh bean sprouts, cilantro, and lime wedges for the phô.  My beef satay noodle bowl came with a generous portion of tender, thinly sliced beef atop a heap of wide hand-cut rice noodles (chow-fun) in a thick curry-like gravy of peanut and coconut milk.  The flavor was an aromatic combination of sweet and creamy coconut milk, and salty peanuts and sesame.  A generous garnish of chili sambal for that spicy punch, and some lime juice to cut through the creaminess of the gravy and it was perfect.  My mother's phô was lighter option.  It had an equally generous portion of beef and noodles, but was in a clear broth instead.  The flavor of the beef was good and it was tender, with a hint star anise and fennel flavor not unlike Chinese Five Spice powder.  But in the broth, I found this classic phô seasoning was so overpowering that none of the beef flavor came through.  The same broth was used in my father's phô, but the grilled chicken was delicious.  It was a lot of food, and for $6 a bowl, this place was definitely a bargain.

Classic pho (top left), fresh garnishes (top right), sauces and condiments (bottom left) and satay beef noodles (bottom right)

After lunch I accompanied my mom as she did some grocery shopping.  When I was a kid, there were always small grocery stores, fish markets, and butcher shops catering to the Chinese and Asian population, but Kam Man was the only big Chinese supermaket in the area.  Now there are several options for Asian supermarkets and they carry an even wider array of items.  There is the Korean chain, Hmart, and Hong Kong supermarket, but my mom prefers the Gold City Supermarket.  I could see why.  The produce section is huge, and stocks both familiar and more unusual items. The same is true for the meat and fish departments.  Behind the meat counter, I think I counted four or five clerks taking orders, and three other butcher staff portioning and keeping the cases stocked.  If you know how to de-bone a fish, you can take home a whole fish for about $3.00 /lb, and everything seemed really fresh.  There were fish on ice as well as live fish in a wall of tanks behind the counter.  I stood by and watched as one fishmonger wrangled some live prawns into a net for his customer.

Imported mangosteens (top left), kohlrabi (top right), burdock (bottom left), and the dreaded and infamous durian fruit (bottom right)

There is also a good selection of Asian dry goods and specialties.  The tea selection ranged anywhere from $3 for a box of green tea bags, to $18 for a tin of specialty loose tealeaves.  I have to admit one thing that did skeeve me out a bit was using the rest room there (What is it about Chinese bathrooms?  I never wanted to use the scary bathroom at Grandma's).  Maybe it was a fluke, but the soap dispenser was empty, so I really hope there is another hand washing station for the employees, and that they use it.  Anyway, online reviews of the Gold City Supermarket warn that weekends are madness, especially in the parking lot.  Thankfully, one of the perks of restaurant life is that I have weekdays off, so I can avoid the usual crowds at places like the grocery store, the bank and the post office.  So lucky for Mom and me it was a Tuesday afternoon.  It was busy, but the store wasn't crowded or overwhelmed with shoppers, so we were able to find parking easily, and didn't have to wait in line to check out.

I'm going to have to find a recipe for these!

Yes, that is what it says

A wide array of fresh fish and seafood

Fishmonger wrangling live prawns into a plastic bag for a customer

So, after Mom finished her shopping, we headed next door to a crowded little Chinese bakery so I could finally satisfy my craving for "cha tsu bao," and get another bubble tea, of course.  As I made my way up to the counter, I overheard one of the clerks at the counter was chatting with an older woman.  "There you go mammy," she said as she handed the customer her goods.  "See you next time."  I smiled to myself upon hearing this Latino term of familiarity emerge in a Chinese accent as the clerk addressed a regular customer - an older Caucasian woman picking up some of her favorite Chinese baked goods.  So there was Flushing, summed up in this brief exchange - a deliciously random confluence of culture, food, and language.  Maybe just maybe, there's something to the melting pot theory after all.

Latin Restaurant & Bakery
4141 Main St
Flushing, NY 11355
(718) 961-8900

Phô Vietnamese Restaurant
3802 Prince St
Flushing, NY 11354
(718) 461-8686

Gold City Supermarket
4631 Kissena Blvd
Flushing, NY 11355
(718) 762-7688

Pies Please

My friend Christine is an avid home baker. We met a few years ago when her husband and I were working at the same firm. His desk was next to mine, and he would regularly rave about her cakes, shortbread, and pies - particularly her peach pie. She recently confided in me that she used Crisco (*yikes*) to make her pie crusts, and didn't like the idea of using hydrogenated oil, so she wanted me to show her what fraisage was all about and how to use it to make all-butter pie crust.  Since we hadn't seen each other in months, we made plans yesterday to have lunch and make pies together.

I had picked up some beautiful zucchini earlier this week, so I decided to make a Vegetable Torte.  Christine settled on making her almost-famous Peach Pie.  So after some lunch and much needed coffee, we put on some serious chick music  a la Carol King, Juice Newton (Oh yeah, because Angel of the Morning is a classic thank you very much), Christina Aguilera, Etta James, etc.. and got to work.

Christine's delectable Peach Pie

Now, I've made butter pie crust a million times.  I've never actually even tried any other types of fat (though I might try lard the next time I make a meat pie). I'd been using fraisage ever since I read about it in the July 2004 issue of Cooks Illustrated.  Thing is, I've never taught anyone to do it, and as I discovered, that's a totally different thing.

First I pulled out two cutting boards, two knives, two of everything so that Christine and I could work alongside each other.  Then we diced up our butter and put it in the freezer to get nice and chilled.  That went smoothly, and while we waited, we logged onto the internet to see what the latest cover of US Weekly was all about.  After spotting it in the checkout line, we just had to know what was going on with Jessica Simpson's weight.

Butter chilled, we set up to cut it into the flour.  Because Christine doesn't have a food processor, we decided to do everything by hand so it would be as close as possible to the way she would make the recipe at home.  Now here is where we hit a little snag.  Christine was using my wire pastry cutter and I was using a plastic bench scraper.  The wires of the pastry cutter weren't doing a very good job of cutting through the cold hard butter.  So I finished cutting my flour and butter, then handed Christine the bench scraper so she could cut hers.  In the meantime the butter in both our bowls were approaching room temperature.  When we added the water, it didn't seem to be getting absorbed by the flour and was difficult to tell how much water we needed.  I thought that if we continued with the fraisage, it would help to blend the water into the dough.  So I quickly fraisaged my dough then helped Christine with hers.  All the while, both our doughs were sitting out at room temperature getting warmer and warmer.  They seemed crumbly and dry so we tried to incorporate more water into them, but they still didn't seem to absorb anything.  By the time we were gathering the doughs into discs, mine had started sticking to the table, and Christine's was so dry it was crumbling apart.   I knew things didn't feel or look right, but we stuck them in the fridge and hoped for the best.  Meanwhile we both prepared our fillings, and did a little Facebook-ing.

When it came time to roll the doughs out, I was embarrassed to find that it was a little disastrous.  Sure, we managed to get the crusts into the pie pans, and the pies both actually turned out delicious, but the road getting there was not exactly the smoothest, and the crusts probably were not as flaky as they could have been.  Both our doughs were crumbly and had no elasticity.  There just didn't seem to be enough moisture even though we had kept adding water.  My dough only began to take shape once the butter started to melt.  Then it was greasy and started to stick to the table, but I couldn't move it dust underneath with flour because it was so brittle.  Christine had similar problems with hers.  Even though the pies turned out, I was disappointed because I was afraid that Christine went home with the impression that what we did was more complicated and difficult than it actually was.

Vegetable Torta (click to go to recipe page)

So what went wrong?  More importantly, how could I have fixed it?  Today I was determined to figure it out.  So alone I went about making butter pie crust again - this time, paying extra attention to how the dough felt and looked at each step (and taking photos!).  First, I realized teaching someone to do something always takes longer than simply doing it yourself.  Obvious, I know.  It also occured to me that rule number one of making butter pie crust is to keep the butter COLD, and even at the first step of cutting the flour and butter together, we took so long that the butter had come to almost to room temperature.  Today after cutting my butter and flour together, I put the mixture in the freezer for a few minutes just as a precautionary measure, but I might have saved us some grief if I had done this yesterday when I realized the butter was getting too warm.  The second mistake was in the way I demonstrated the fraisage. The butter already approaching room temperature, we should have tried an alternative method using a bench scraper or rubber spatula.  Instead, we used our hands, which just caused the butter to melt further.  The fraisage just worked the melted butter into the flour more, and inhibited its ability to absorb moisture.  By this point there was not much that could have been done to save the dough.

So using what I learned from yesterday's mishaps, making pie crust today went as smoothly as can be (Whew!).  I ended up using it to make a deep dish Cardamom Pumpkin Tart, which I can say with absolute certainty (and Boyfriend will back me up on this...) had the flakiest crust I'd ever made. It would have been even better with fresh pumpkin, but it I really needed to use up a can of pumpkin puree which I had sitting around since Thanksgiving 2007.

Cardamom Pumpkin Tart (click to go to recipe page)

So the next time I have someone over for a workshop day, I think I'll take a cue from the way they taught us in culinary school.  Instead of working on our doughs at the same time, I should have demonstrated the recipe for Christine first, then helped her with her dough.  This way she could have seen the whole process first, then I would have been able to pay more attention to what I was doing during the demonstration, and to what she was doing when it was her turn. Oh well, live and learn...Now all I have to figure out is do I want Peach Pie or Cardamom Pumpkin Tart with my coffee?

The Recipes:

All Butter Pie Crust

Torta Salata

Cardamom Pumpkin Tart