Have Knives, Will Cook

Eggs Benedict with Rosemary Pork Loin, Orange Hollandaise and Wild Arugula Salad

2011-05-10T08:15:00.000-07:00

We're all pretty familiar with your standard Eggs Benedict: two poached eggs over a slice of Canadian Bacon or ham, on a toasted English muffin, luxuriously topped with Hollandaise sauce. Well here is a fresh take that makes use of leftovers from Saturday evening's pork loin roast. Combine them with with farm fresh organic eggs and produce, and crusty sourdough bread to make an elegant Sunday brunch.

This recipe also uses a number of techniques that are good to have in your repertoire.

The Difference is in the Brine

2011-05-09T08:27:00.000-07:00

Why bother to brine a pork roast, a turkey, or a chicken? Well, there are two reasons. The first is that all three of these meats generally don't contain a lot of intramuscular fat and therefore tend to dry out when you roast or grill them. Brining helps the meat to retain its juices, even if it's slightly overcooked. The second reason is flavor. A basic brine is made up of water, salt and sugar. Soaking a roast, a bird, or even chops in this liquid allows the meat to become seasoned all the way through, not just on the outside.

Lately one of the things I like to keep in my larder is a pork loin roast. A 1-1/2 to 2 lb. roast is the perfect size for my little household of two plus dog. I brine it for about 2 hours, then sear it off, and roast it. The whole process takes about 3 hours, largely unattended. Properly cooled and left whole, the cooked roast with keep for about 3 days tightly wrapped in the fridge. Then I just slice off pieces as I need to make grilled sandwiches or to have with eggs and toast.

Pulled Pork that Practically Cooks Itself

2011-05-03T08:18:00.000-07:00

I ordered a pork shoulder through Basis Foods a couple months ago. The online store estimated each one at about 8 or 9 lbs. But when it arrived from Mountain View Farm it was a whopping 13 lbs, and...it was frozen. So I popped it in my freezer because unless I had a special occasion or a plan to make use of all that pork, there was no way the Buddy and I were going to be able to eat all of it.

Last week I finally thawed it out. The boneless half I sliced into steaks which I used to make Char Siu, and Tasso Ham. The bone end, which weighed about 7 lbs. became the easiest pulled pork ever. I looked up David Chang's recipe for his Bo Ssam in the Momofuku Cookbook, and was truly surprised at how basic his recipe was for marinating and cooking the pork: Rub pork with salt and sugar and marinate overnight. Cook pork, in a covered pan at 300 degrees until fork tender.

My Almost Biscotti Disaster

2011-04-17T14:47:00.000-07:00

"Eeek! "

That's the sound that came out of my mouth as a tray of half-baked biscotti logs slid off the oven rack and ended up standing vertical with the edge of the tray stuck in the hinge of my oven door. Luckily the actual logs of biscotti held on and didn't fall off. When I righted the tray there were some casualties, but I was able to salvage most of my work. So at least my first attempt at making biscotti wasn't a total disaster...

All Aboard the Sous Vide Bandwagon

2011-04-06T14:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I have been accused of being a little bit of a gadget girl. But you can't blame me, it's genetic. Sources have informed my that my own father has been known to order computer equipment, then have it shipped to my sister's, whereupon she would bring it over as a gift. My dad would exclaim something to the effect of, "Wow, how did you know this is exactly what I've been looking for?' and my mom would be none the wiser. Sorry guys, the jig is up.

Well, I've been wanting to get into sous vide cooking for some time, but it's not a technique that's necessarily used at my current job. Until New York City Health Department developed standards regulating the use of sous vide, many restaurants were using the technique under the radar. But now that most of the top restaurants in the city are certified to use sous vide, it has become quite commonplace. After all, Thomas Keller's Under Pressure, a book demonstrating the use of sous vide in his restaurants, has been around for years, and there are very accessible pieces of equipment on the market now that make sous vide a very practical addition to the home kitchen. So as a restaurant professional, there is no way I'm going to get left behind in the dust.

Sous vide is a French term meaning under vacuum.
Quite simply, the technique involves sealing food in a vacuum pouch to achieve an oxygen deprived environment. This may be accomplished in one of two ways: either by the use of an edge type vacuum sealer such as the FoodSaver brand, or by use of a commercial type chamber vacuum sealer such as those made by Multivac or Koch Equipment.

The most well known application of sous vide is low temperature cooking. In low temperature cooking water or another medium is held at a constant temperature equal to the desired final cooked temperature of the food. The food is then submerged in the liquid until it is cooked evenly thorough. Some foods may be cooked low temperature without the use of sous vide, depending on the desired final result. For example, eggs can be poached in their shells, and lobster can be poached directly in a bath of butter. However, vegetables and meat are most commonly sealed sous vide before cooking to lock in their flavors. In fact sous vide and low temperature cooking are so often used in conjunction that the two terms have become almost synonymous.

However there are applications of sous vide other than low temperature cooking. For the home, one useful application is food storage. Since many of the micro-organisms responsible for food spoilage require oxygen to thrive, storing food in the oxygen deprived environment provided by sous vide can extend shelf life. Sous vide is also a good way to marinate foods. For the home cook this poses a little bit of a challenge since most marinades involve liquids, and technically you can't seal liquids without an expensive and bulky chamber type vacuum machine. You can get around the limitations of a home type edge vacuum sealer by freezing measured portions of the marinade first then sealing it as you would with solid ingredients. Once the bag is sealed and the marinade melts, the result is the same.

Another technique used by many fine dining restaurants using sous vide is texture modification. By compressing fruits and vegetables in a chamber vacuum sealer, they can intensify their flavor by making them more dense, or infuse them with other flavors such as with liquors. Because of the highly specialized nature of this technique and the expensive equipment that is required to perform it, I feel is of little benefit to the home cook.

More important for me was the learn how to use low temperature cooking especially since I love a good slow poached egg on my ramen noodles. So gadget numero uno I required was the immersion circulator. The model used by most professional kitchens (and at the French Culinary Institute) is made by Polyscience, and would have been really useful back when I made Porchetta di Testa. Until recently though, the least expensive models were still just under a grand - ouch. Then I noticed some bloggers had gotten into sous vide using the SousVide Supreme water oven. At around $400 it was definitely more budget friendly, but I simply did not want or have the space for another bulky countertop appliance, especially one with a limited capacity. I was almost ready to give in and plunk down the cash for a pro immersion circulator when I saw that Polyscience had come out with a pared down, more compact immersion circulator geared for home use. At $799 it is still pricey, but a good compromise between the pro circulator and the water oven, and it comes with a handbook written by Thomas Keller, containing useful guidelines and recipes to get you started on using sous vide. Plus, I got the circulator through Williams Sonoma, who are currently sweetening the deal with two free gifts: a 20 quart stock pot, and a polycarbonate food storage container, both compatible for use with the immersion circulator. Beware those who live in cramped New York apartments though. The storage container and stock pot are a nice perk, but both are big commercial pieces of equipment and you will have some trouble finding a place to store (or even to wash) them.

As for the vacuum sealer I knew right away the chamber type was out of the question. Not only are they extremely expensive, but I simply don't have the space for it. I ordered a Caso brand edge type sealer, also from Williams Sonoma for under $200. It comes with nice heavy duty bags in rolls of two sizes, that when used properly with the machine make a tight seal.

The first thing I made was slow poached eggs, and using the time and temperature reference guide included with the immersion circulator it couldn't have been easier. I set up my water bath canner on the counter next to my stove, (the stockpot arrived later in a different box, but I finally found a good use for the water bath canner...) clamped the circulator to the edge, and poured hot tap water into the pot - the immersion circulator has helpful markers indicating minimum and maximum water levels. I set the circulator to the desired temperature ( I like my yolks kind of creamy, so that was around 147º F) and in a short time the indicator showed that the water had come to temperature. I dropped my eggs in, and in 40 minutes had perfect slow poached eggs. The older chefs at FCI used to tease that it used to take 3 minutes to poach eggs, and now it takes an hour - but the result is totally unlike a traditional poached egg. I don't have a picture to share yet, but I assure you when I get my pork ramen recipe up, it will include a slow poached egg.

Next I increased the temperature on the circulator to 185° F, to tackle some vegetables. This apparently is the temperature at which vegetables become tender but without becoming mushy. Here is where I might recommend pre-heating water on the stove. For lower temperature foods I found hot tap water to be close enough to the desired temperature that the immersion circulator heated things up pretty quickly. However, if you are used to a gas stove, and have one super jet engine burner that you always use for big pots of water like I do, you will get impatient waiting for the immersion circulator to heat the water up to 185° F. I would recommend returning the pot to the stove - after removing and unplugging the circulator of course - and bringing the water up to temperature, then using the circulator to maintain it.

Mind you, green vegetables do not maintain their color sous vide, so for those, the experts (i.e. Mr Keller) recommend the tried and true method of blanching in a big pot of salted water. But for dense non-green vegetables like carrots and fennel bulbs, both of which I just happened to have in my fridge, sous vide works beautifully. First I tried the fennel. I cut it into wedges about 1" thick and sprinkled them with some salt, pepper, and olive oil. I cut a piece from the roll of vacuum plastic and sealed one end with the vacuum machine's seal only function. Then I put all pieces in the bag and sealed it using the vacuum seal function. At first some of the olive oil seeped thorough and it didn't make a complete seal. So I cleaned the inside top edge of the bag and tried again. This time it sealed, but when I put the bag in the water bath, there was still enough air inside so the bag was floating and some of the fennel was not submerged. So I tried again. This time I made another seal crosswise down the center of the bag to so each portion of fennel had it's own compartment, and there was less air for the machine to vacuum out. This worked much better. After about 50 minutes they were perfectly cooked.

Next were the carrots. I cut them so they were pretty uniform in thickness - important so they cook at the same rate - and simply sprinkled them with a little salt before sealing them in 1 layer in the bag. The seal took much better this time. The plastic was tight against the carrots with barely any air inside, and in about an hour I had perfectly cooked carrots that were bright orange and tender, but still firm. I cooled both vegetables, still in their bags in a tub of ice water, then tossed them in the fridge for dinner tomorrow. Mr. Keller states that when properly chilled and refrigerated at 38°F or lower, vegetables and other foods cooked sous vide will keep fresh for about 3 days, and that anything you don't plan to use within 3 days should be frozen. Mr. Keller's guide also includes important information regarding safe handling of foods cooked sous vide, since there are some nasty bacteria such as e-coli, botulism, listeria, and salmonella, that can thrive in a vacuum. Generally speaking if you keep your food chilled below 38º F, cook it to above 135º F, then chill it back down if it isn't going to be used right away, you should be pretty safe. The less time your food remains at room temperature the better - 4 hours, including cooking time, being the absolute limit.

I also sous vide cooked a piece of grass fed sirloin from Manx Station Farm. This I sealed in two layers of plastic before cooking, following advice from David Chang's Momofuku Cookbook. Can you think of a bigger mess than a vacuum bag of meat accidentally opening up in your sous vide bath? Anyway it's been chilled and I am saving it for dinner tomorrow with the carrots and fennel. Won't know how it came out until we sear it off and cut into it, but I'll keep you all posted. Believe me, as I figure out how the technique fits into my culinary life, there will be much more sous vide to come. Until next time...

Easy Pickled Jalapenos

2011-04-04T08:57:00.000-07:00

Forgive me father for I have sinned (I imagine the late James Beard to be looking down at me with disdain from his kitchen in the sky). It has been two weeks since my last post, and in that time I have twice eaten takeout pizza, and once I even had Taco Bell. But it has been very difficult to have home cooked meals now that I am working more nights at the restaurant. The powers that be have decided to expand the dining room, and add 50 more seats. So after the departure of the Hulk, they have brought on a second, more experienced chef to help run the kitchen. He and I have cooked together before, and as his sous chef I get to play more of a supporting role. Remember that episode of Battlestar Galactica (the newer series) when Colonel Tigh had to run the ship while Commander Adama was recovering from a gunshot wound? And remember the relief that he felt when he was able to return command to Adama? Well, color me Tigh. Now I get two full days off, but the other 5 nights are spent in the trenches, on the line, cooking with my crew until close. So when I get home late and starving, pizza and nachos sound like a really good midnight meal. The problem is that I always wake up in the morning feeling kind of crappy and regretting it.

Fast food and takeout are not cheap eats either, especially here in New York. So I am on a new mission: to take a little time on my days off to stock my larder with fresh homemade goods from which I can make quick, delicious, and healthy midnight meals during the rest of the week. Having already discovered how easy it is to make home-cured meats, I figured I would add home-canned goods to my routine.

To that end, please allow me to introduce you to my newest friend - the Ball plastic canning rack. Last summer (having been overly optimistic about the success of my garden), I bought a full sized water bath canner, with all the gadgets, the jar lifer, the little magnetic stick to retrieve lids and bands from boiling water and a stockpile of wide mouth jars. I have used it once. It's just the pot is so big, takes so much water, and takes sooooo long to boil, that to make a couple jars of pickles at a time, I usually ended up using a standard 10 quart stock pot with a makeshift rack in the bottom anyway.

This rack holds up to three pint jars, and comes as part of the Ball Home Discovery canning kit,. The kit also includes three mason jars with matching bands and lids, and a small recipe booklet. At only 11.50 it was a serious bargain, so I thought, what the heck, and ordered one of these babies. It arrived last Monday, and one night last week when I came home from work, I decided to take it for a test run. Pickled jalapenos are something we always have around, so I figured making some of my own would be a good recipe to start with. Besides, throwing together a few pints of pickled jalapenos is so quick and easy, the entire process takes about a half hour - even less if you forget canning and just refrigerate the pickles instead.

Oh, and in case you're wondering if these are worth making yourself, here are the numbers: A 12 oz. jar of pickled jalapenos costs $2.19 at the supermarket. Using fresh jalapenos and supermarket brand vinegar, a 16 oz. pint jar of the homemade stuff cost me only $2.02. That's a difference of almost a dollar per pint. Using name brand vinegar would increase your cost by 43 cents per jar, but would still be a savings of 47 cents per jar. I didn't include the cost of the equipment since you could skip the canning process altogether and store your pickles in the fridge. And well, less wasted packaging is always a good thing in my opinion.

Easy Pickled Jalapenos

INGREDIENTS (for 3 pints)

1-1/2 lbs. jalapeno peppers

4 cups distilled white vinegar

1-1/3 cups water

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed (optional)

kosher salt, to taste

EQUIPMENT:

3 pint sized canning jars with bands and lids

1 large stockpot, a least 9-1/2" in diameter and 7-1/2" tall or tall enough to accomodate the jars covered by at least 1 inch of boiling water.

A rack to elevate the jars from the bottom of the stockpot while they are processing.

1 2-3 quart saucepan

1 strainer (needed only if you choose to include the garlic)

PROCEDURE:

Step 1: Heat jars and lids.

Wash and clean your jars, bands, and a new set of lids in hot soapy water. The Ball Blue Book Guide states that it is only necessary to sterilize jars if they are being used for products processed for less than 10 minutes, and since pickled jalapenos are processed for 10 minutes, there is no need to sterilize the jars. You should however, heat them to insure that they don't crack when you pour hot pickling liquid into them. You also have to heat the lids in order make the seal. To do this place open jars in a rack face down in the your stock pot along with the lids. If you don't have a rack, just use something that will elevate and keep the jars from contact with the bottom of the pot. Cover the jars and lids with water and bring the pot to a bare simmer (about 180 degrees) for 10 minutes, then shut off the heat. The Guide advises not to let the lids boil (that is, a rolling boil, 212 degrees), as this might compromise their ability to seal properly. Leave the jars and lids in the water to stay warm.

If you choose to make refrigerator pickles you can store them in a large crock or plastic container, and skip this step. If you want to use glass jars, you will at least have to heat them so they don't break when you pour hot liquid into them. I would also advise you to use canning jars made for this purpose, and advise against re-using jars from supermarket pantry items, as they may crack if you try to heat them.

Step 2: Prepare your goods.

While the lids and jars are heating, wash your jalapenos and slice them if you wish. Combine water, vinegar in a saucepan. If you choose to, add garlic and salt, and and bring the mixture to a boil. Let the mixture simmer for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, pack your jalapenos into the hot jars, leaving about a 1/4 inch of headspace. Headspace refers to the space between the level of your product and the rim of the jar. Strain the boiling liquid over the peppers, leaving 1/4 inch of headspace and remove any air bubbles. Place the hot lids on the jars and screw the bands on with your fingertips so they are just closed but not too tight. Air needs to be able to escape from the jar during processing.

For refrigerator pickles, simply pack your jalapenos into containers or hot glass jars and pour the hot pickling liquid over them. You may want to use a small cup or saucer or something to weigh the jalapenos down so they stay submerged - they will absorb the liquid as they cool. Once they come to room temperature, cover and refrigerate for up to 2 weeks.

Step 3: Process and seal the jars.

Stand the jars upright in the rack and lower them into the stockpot. Make sure they are covered but at least an inch of hot water. Cover the pot and bring the water to a boil. Adjust the heat to maintain a steady boil, and for 10 minutes, starting from the time the water comes to a boil. Shut off the heat and let the jars remain the the water for 5 minutes. Remove the jars from the pot and stand them on a kitchen towel to cool at room temperature for 12-24 hours.

After 12-24 hours, remove the band and test the seal by either pressing in the center of the lid to see if it flexes, or lifting the jar by the lid to see if it holds. If the lid flexes or comes off when you try to lift the jar, then the seal (obviously) has failed. If this happens, fear not. You can refrigerate the pickles. Refrigerator pickles should keep for up to 2 weeks. You can store properly sealed jars with or without their bands, in a cool, dark place until ready to use. Don't try to re-tighten the bands since this could break the seal.

Steak and Kidney Pie, or the Dinner that Wasn't

2011-03-14T15:44:00.000-07:00

"...not too much kidney...just enough to give it that touch of bite...and lashings of steak, oooh, and it's good steak too!...ooh." - from Jeeves and Wooster, Season 1: The Hunger Strike.

Is it possible we watch way to much Jeeves and Wooster? Perhaps it's a sign, that after the 'teenth time of watching Tuppy Glossup describe Chef Anatole's masterly Steak and Kidney Pie with such mouth watering anticipation, I finally needed to make one.

In keeping with the spirit of Jeeves and Wooster, I decided to use a British recipe for Steak and Kidney pie. I remembered coming across a recipe in Hugh Fearnley Whittingsall's River Cottage Meat Book, so I ordered some grass fed beef kidney and steak from Lewis Waite Farm. Last week I finally had a chance to thaw them out and work on the pie.

The thing is this: When we made beef kidneys in culinary school, I could barely stand to taste them. Yet Tuppy Glossup and Mr. Whittingsall managed to convince me that Steak and Kidney pie could be truly delicious. Here I believe, was my first failure in judgment. My second, was perhaps getting frozen instead of fresh kidney. After thawing it out (properly, i.e. in the fridge), I took the kidney out of the package, and started trimming it. The center was still a little frozen, but as I continued to cut, it continued to thaw out. It also began to give off a distinct odor of piss. Not a strong odor, but it was there.

Is this normal? I thought. The kidney looked fresh (well I guess freshly frozen would be more accurate). It was brown on the outside with just some red coming through, and bright red in the center, just like the color photos in my copy of The Fundamental Techniques of Classic Cuisine. Then I remembered a passage in Julie Powell's book (you know the one) in which she quotes her mother as saying "But kidneys taste like piss." I stood there for a few minutes, knife in hand, just staring at the kidney on the cutting board. If it kind of smells like piss, I wondered, then what on earth will it taste like? With that, I swept everything off the cutting board into a plastic bag, tied it up and dumped it in the trash.

What then, you might ask, is depicted in the photo? Well, once I had my mind made up to make this pie, I couldn't bring myself to abandon the plan. So I pulled that bag of kidney out of the trash, sorted out the good pieces from the scrap, and tried rinsing them - to no effect. Then, believe it or not, the kidney went back into bag, and the bag back into trash. Okay, I know how it sounds, fishing the bag out of the trash a yet again, but I was stubbornly held to my mission. I couldn't even bear to throw the kidney directly into the trash. I consciously sealed it in the bag in case I changed my mind and wanted to fish it out again.

After overcoming that initial hurdle, there was no choice but to to see my plan through to the end. I sauteed up the kidneys, and as they cooked, their aroma became more bearable. They smelled pretty typical of cooked offal, like liver for example. This seemed like a positive development. So I pushed on and sauteed the steak, the onions, deglazed the pan with some red wine, and put everything back in the pot to stew for an hour and a half while I went to work on the pastry crust.

The River Cottage recipe calls for a rough puff pastry. I could have just used store bought puff pastry and made my life a little easier, but if there's one thing you know about me, it's that I like a good project. Puff pastry is made by folding a layer of dough around a block of butter, then rolling it out, and folding it up, like you would to stuff a letter into an envelope. Then you refrigerate it and roll and fold again. The process is repeated several times until you end up with layers and layers of butter and dough. When it bakes the steam in the butter causes the layers to expand and produce the familiar flaky pastry. With rough puff pastry, instead of folding the dough around the block of butter, all the ingredients are cut together as you would with pie dough, then rolled and folded as with puff pastry. It doesn't bake up as flaky, but it makes a good pie crust.

When the stew filling was ready, I have to admit it still had that lingering odor. I hadn't put much kidney into the pie, hoping that all the other flavors might help to dilute its potency. I tasted some of the steak and the gravy, and adjusted the seasoning. I still couldn't bring myself to dig into the kidney, but the rest seemed alright. So I assembled the pie and popped it in the oven for another hour.

In the meantime I made some sourdough croutons, washed some heads of romaine lettuce and put together a quick Caesar salad. When the pie was ready, we popped Jeeves and Wooster into the DVD player, and sat down to eat. As soon as I cut into it, the pie released a big cloud of steam with the strong aroma of...kidney. I served us each a piece and it looked good. First I took a bite of steak, then a mushroom, but the first bite of kidney and I was done. Boyfriend winced after taking a bite of his pie, and couldn't even take a second. We looked at each other across the table, then at the pie. It was a lot of work for something neither of us could stomach, and if I were ever to try it again (someone talk some sense into me please) it would have to be with super-super-fresh, straight-from-the-cow and still-covered-in-fat kidney. Now we just had to figure out what to do about dinner.

Oh well, I said. How about some steak fajitas?

Home Cured Bacon makes the Best BLTs

2011-02-21T09:09:00.000-08:00

Home Cured BLT Sandwiches

Bacon, oh delicious bacon. Is there any other food that inspires people to the same degree of epicurean lust? In one Jim Gaffigan standup routine, he spends a good two and a half minutes extolling the joys of eating bacon in its many forms. One waiter at work shared with me that having described a dish as containing bacon, he has had even more than one customer grunt "Yeah, bacon!" Bacon is equally delicious and dirty. It is salty, sweet and smoky all at the same time, not to mention luxuriously fatty. It is a guilty pleasure that connects us to an older more primal way of life. Since modern refrigeration has eliminated the need for us to even make bacon or other cured and smoked meats, it is something we do for the pure enjoyment of flavor.

A couple years back, we bought a Brinkman smoker for the house at an end-of-season sale. And a few weeks ago I got my hands on an entire slab of Berkshire pork belly, so naturally I decided to try making bacon at home. I consulted three different books on the matter: Jane Grigson's Charcuterie and French Pork Cookery (originally published in 1967), Michael Ruhlman & Brian Polcyn's Charcuterie, and Hugh Fearnsly Whittingsall's River Cottage Meat Book. What I learned was that making bacon really easy.

First, there's the Cure:

First you dry cure the belly in a mixture of salt, sugar, and whatever flavorings you may choose. Salt is the only essential ingredient, since it is the primary preservative. Beyond that, sugar and other flavorings are added to balance the salt, and a small amount of curing salt (a.k.a. pink salt, saltpetre) though not essential, is added to maintain the rosy pink hue of the pork and as a precaution against botulism. All three books vary greatly on their suggested ratios of salt to sugar. Ruhlman/Polcyn's cure is a ratio of 2 parts salt to 1 part sugar, plus 10 percent of their combined weight in pink salt. Grigson's cure calls for 2-1/2 lbs. of salt to only 1 oz. sugar, and 1 oz. pink salt. Fearnley-Whittingsall's cure falls somewhere in between. I decided to try two recipes: the River Cottage one and the Ruhlman/Polcyn one. The basic process is pretty much the same. Once you mix the cure, you just slather the belly with enough of the cure to evenly cover it, and set it in a container or ziploc bag in the fridge. The River Cottage recipe says to pour off any liquid that is released and rub the belly with fresh cure each day, Ruhlman/Polcyn directs you to simply turn the meat to redistribute the cure and the liquid. A 1" thick piece of belly will usually be ready in about 4 to 5 days. Then you just wash off the cure and you have what is commonly referred to as salt pork. Before smoking, let it dry in the fridge for a day or two. Drying creates a tacky surface on the meat known as the pellicle, which allows the smoke to adhere to it.

Then there's the Smoke:

Bacon, as commonly understood in America is then just smoked salt pork. The River Cottage recipe calls for cold-smoking the bacon, at a temperature of less than 100 degrees F (ideally 75°-86° F), for 24 hours continuously, or up to a week, intermittently. Ruhlman/Polcyn, call for a hot smoke, at 180° F to 200° F until the internal temperature of the bacon reaches 150° F. So again, here is a matter of personal preference. The longer the smoke time, the smokier your bacon will be. A cold smoke takes longer, but it is more difficult to maintain the proper temperature without special equipment. A hot smoke can be done in a charcoal grill in a matter of a few hours. Since I didn't have the proper equipment (or time, for that matter) for cold smoking, I decided to just go with a hot smoke. The difference is that hot smoking slow cooks the meat as it smokes, resulting in a final product that is essentially ready to eat.

To hot smoke meats, you can use a charcoal smoker, like the cylindrical kind, or a charcoal grill. The technique simply involves building an indirect fire, which roasts the meat rather than grilling it. The meat is not placed directly over the coals, but a distance above or to one side. In a cylindrical smoker, the meat is held on a rack a couple feet above the coals. In a charcoal grill, you would build your fire on one side of the grill, and place your meat on the other side, away from the coals. In both cases, the grill is then covered, trapping the heat and smoke inside so that the meat slow roasts the same way it would in an oven. If you use hardwood charcoal, you will get the smoky hardwood flavor without having to use wood chips. However, hardwood charcoal burns hotter and faster so you will probably have to keep a close eye on your fire. Using lump charcoal and wood chips is definitely easier. First soak your wood chips in water for about half and hour. In the meantime, light the coals. When they are glowing red, spread the wood chips over them so that they smolder and create the desired smoke. Then just place your meat away from the heat source, put the lid on, and slow smoke until the meat reaches the target internal temperature of 150° F.

So How Did it Go?

As luck would have it we experienced a warm spell last week - just as my bellies had just finished curing and drying, and were ripe for the smoking. It was 60 degrees outside and everyone was walking around t-shirts. Looking around, it was hard to believe we were still in the middle of February. So I went digging around in the basement for our smoker. I opened up the package, and what did I find inside but two copies of the complementary recipe book, but no assembly instructions. Thankfully, this was not a problem. After working in a futon shop in my post college years (thanks Lou and Lorrie) and having to assemble many a home furnishing product, I found the smoker was not much different. Charcoal, on the other hand, was a problem. As in, I didn't have any, and my car was in the shop. If I had had an electric hot plate, I could have rigged the smoker to work like the Big Chief electric smoker we use at work, but I didn't have a hot plate either. It's moments like these when a close-knit family of pack-rats is a definite blessing. I called my aunt and uncle who live down the street to see if they might have an electric hot plate or some charcoal kicking around. They couldn't find their hot plate, which they were sure they had but would have to go rooting around their basement to find. They did find an old 20 lb. bag of charcoal they had no use for, since they were grilling with propane nowadays.

Bacon, fresh from the smoker

By the time I got started smoking my belly it was close to dark, and we don't yet have lights out in our backyard, so I was out there with the belly, a pair of tongs, a bag of charcoal, a roll of newspaper, a butane torch, applewood chips soaking in a bowl of water...and a flashlight. But it was worth it. The hardest thing about the whole process was just getting the fire lit. But once I got the coals glowing in the bottom of the smoker, I just sprinkled the applewood chips over them, set the belly on the top rack of the smoker over a pan to catch the drippings, and closed up the smoker . Aside from checking the coals from time to time to make sure they hadn't burned out there was not much else to do. I think the temperature inside the smoker was probably higher than 200°F, but in about 2-3 hours, the belly had reached an internal temperature of over 150 degrees so I took it out and let it cool. It had turned an amber color from the smoke, and was glistening and smelled amazing too.

Today it snowed again, and it's hard to believe that just a few days ago it felt like Spring. We reminded ourselves by making some of the best BLT sandwiches ever. As I unwrapped the parchment package, the aroma of smoke was released into the air from the slab of homemade bacon. I cut a few 1/8" thick slices off the slab, arranged them on a parchment lined baking sheet and set them in a 350° F oven. In about 15-20 minutes they had rendered just enough fat, and were just beginning to crisp. I let them drain on a paper towel. Hmm-boy did they make some killer sandwiches. There are two things about homemade bacon that really make it stand out from the supermarket stuff. First it's drier, so it doesn't shrink and curl nearly as much. Second, its flavor is so far superior, and it is so easy to make, I don't think I can ever go back.

Yup, that's the good stuff.

NOTES:

Even though the package of wood chips I had said that you could use them dry, this method ends up creating flare ups that cause the temperature to get too hot, and create undesirable charring on the meat.

The hot smoked recipe I used said that the bacon would keep up to two weeks in the fridge or 3 months in the freezer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CaK9bjLy3v4

A Big Bowl of Red - Grassfed Steak Chili

2011-02-18T02:02:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to represent the restaurant at Chelsea Market's NY Chilifest 2011. I along with representatives from our other two restaurants in our group, spent several hours ladling out some damn good chili and schmoozing away a Sunday afternoon. It was the first public cooking event I participated in and I had no idea what to expect. All the meat for the chili cookoff was provided by Dickson's Farmstand Meats, and ticket proceeds were being used to support Food Systems NYC - both supporters of local and sustainable food production. Restrictions allowed three people from each restaurant to attend and serve their (hopefully) award-winning chili to 1200 people, and promote their restaurant. One of the tricky things was how to transport 50 gallons of hot chili to the event and keep it warm on only two small hot plates. The solutions were as varied as the chilis. One of our neighbors even brought their own electric steam tables and trays, only to find that there was no access to power - only butane.

The event started at 4pm and for the first couple of hours there was just a sea of people stopping from table to table, chili mug in one hand and a beer in the other. There were television people there, filming, and asking each team to describe their chili. There were also a host of photographers, one of whom stopped me at one point, saying "that's perfect, don't move." At another moment, I turned around to find a mic in my face and a video camera pointed at me. My cohorts had thrown me to the wolves. Here I was, having had nothing to do with preparing our chili, yet now being asked by a reporter to describe it. I am sure during the course of this event, I did or said something dumb that is somehow going to end up in print with my real name attached to it. Oh well.

By the time two hours had elapsed, even the most hearty looking chili-eater was passing our table by, putting a hand over his stomach and gesturing that he could eat no more. And at 6:30 the judges had made their decision and announced the winner of the competition. Unfortunately the judges did not award us the Golden Chili Mug, but we got a good response from the public, and our chili was pretty much gone, so we took the chance to sample some of our competition. There was everything from Texas style "bowl of red," sans beans, to very traditional Mexican style chili, to more unexpected and modern "chef" interpretations. Of course, Fette Sau, a barbecue joint located in Williamsburg added some pork to their chili, and Telepan presented a green chili that contained kernels of hominy. Even the Food Network test kitchen had a table. The aroma of beef, chiles, and spices from the various tables lingered throughout the concourse at Chelsea market. I could only imagine the aroma that could very well follow as 1200 people digested the 20-30 ounces of chili served to them by all the restaurants, and all the beer provided by Brooklyn Brewery. Once our chili-pot was empty, we certainly didn't stick around long enough to find out.

Since I didn't actually participate in the chili-making for the event (credit goes to my executive chef and his team at my former restaurant), I have been meaning to put up a big pot of red chili for me and the old boyfriend. After some hectic days at the restaurant following the departure of the Hulk, and gearing up for Valentine's Day, I finally had a day off. So last night I thawed out 2 lbs. of Manx Station Farms grass fed steak I had knocking about my freezer (from Basis Foods, of course) and made a pot of slow cooked steak chili. I often make a chili with spicy chorizo, chipotle peppers, and mole style spices. But this time I decided to keep it simple and go with a basic American style chili: red and black beans, tomatoes, onions, red bell pepper, garlic, chili powder, cumin, and cayenne. Okay, so I did add a little cocoa powder at the end for some richness, but just a little. We enjoyed it in front of the tube, watching one of our more recently discovered favorite movies: Jeff Daniels' Escanoba in da Moonlight. In case you haven't seen it, think The Hangover, meets Parenthood but better.

Grassfed Steak Chili

INGREDIENTS:

2 lbs. grass fed (or whatever) steak, diced

vegetable oil

1 large onion, diced

2 red bell peppers

1/4 c. chili powder

1 Tbsp. ground cumin

1 tsp. cayenne pepper

6 cloves of garlic, minced

1 Tbsp. tomato paste

14 oz. cooked black beans

14 oz. cooked red kidney beans

28 oz. can of crushed tomatoes

water

1 Tbsp. unsweetened cocoa powder

salt and black pepper to taste

PROCEDURE:

1. Coat the bottom of a large dutch oven with oil and cook the onions and red pepper with the spices over medium low heat until soft. Add the tomato paste and garlic and cook for a few seconds until the garlic is fragrant.

2. Add the meat and cook until it is no longer pink. Add the beans and tomatoes, and enough water to cover all the ingredients. Simmer gently, covered for 45 minutes, then uncovered for another 45 minutes. until the meat is very tender. Stir in the cocoa powder and add salt and pepper to taste.

3. Serve garnished with sour cream or grated monterey jack cheese and sliced green onions.

TIP: Chili, like stew always tastes better the next day, after all the flavors have had a chance to mingle.

Try this with : Maple Glazed Cornbread

All the meat for the chili cookoff was provided by Dickson's Farmstand Meats, and ticket proceeds were being used to support Food Systems NYC - both supporters of local and sustainable food production.

The Hulk has Left the Building

2011-02-18T00:41:00.000-08:00

"You won't like me when I'm angry."

I had only heard about him, this bad ass cook we had working at one of our sister restaurants. A legend in his own time, he could run a busy saute station like no one else. He owned that station - as he should, after working it for 8 years. He also had a legendary temper. So naturally, last July when the most recent chef de cuisine gave notice, and the company offered me the job, I was a little nervous.

Okay, a lot nervous.

After being given a sous chef position with only a year and a half of cooking experience, I already had enough on my plate. Three months later the company wanted to me to take over as chef de cuisine at another restaurant? Not only was it another kitchen with a totally different menu, but it was a kitchen that easily turned out double the food volume. And did they forget that the kitchen was staffed completely with Latino men, all of whom had been cooking there for several years? What business did I have coming in and taking charge of their kitchen? Despite my reservations, both executive chef and owner assured me that the kitchen staff was all on board and that I would have all the support I needed. Nothing could have been further than the truth.

After several weeks of hitting my head on all the low hanging pipes and low passages of my new kitchen, it became quite clear that my primary mission was to babysit - one that if not handled delicately could bring on a cold shower of resentment from my new staff. During those first few weeks, I worked every day, getting to know the restaurant, the menu, the routine for every service...I came to rely on my receiver/ butcher for essential advice about inventory and how to manage food costs. He was also my eyes and ears when it came to keeping an eye on the cooks, making sure they were prepping fresh ingredients every day, and keeping on top of food quality and consistency. "Check the pickles," he would say, pointing out that they were sometimes inconsistent in flavor and color (from the turmeric). Then after a few months he quit, and so did one of my strongest cooks. In the month of October I probably had only two days off. I took care of all the receiving and butchering while we looked for replacement cooks. I took this as an opportunity to prove to my cooks that I could work just as hard if not harder than they did. Some days I was at the restaurant for 16 hours at a time, and in the midst of it all there were a slew of private functions - weddings, engagement parties, birthdays, holiday parties, etc. There were times I thought I was going to lose my mind. At it's worst, I found myself curled up in a ball in the corner of my office, very likely indistinguishable from a quivering ball of snot. But every evening at 6pm I somehow managed to pull myself together, put on my game face, and face the next service.

Then there was the Hulk.

The Hulk was the biggest battle I was up against at the restaurant. Everyone on the staff agreed he was like two people. When he was in a good mood he was like David Banner - easygoing and cooperative. Then there was his other identity - the spiteful and angry one that slammed pans around and alienated everyone around him. His attitude toward me was one of constant intimidation. During service he would either purposely ignore me when I asked him a question, or answer me as if it were so obvious only an idiot would have to ask. Very rarely did it seem as if I weren't inconveniencing him somehow. He was like some territorial predator, and I was the trespasser on his hunting grounds. Only when he needed something from the powers that be, did he treat me with any respect whatsoever.

Toward the end of our time together, I did see some glimpses of hope that things might work out. One slow evening, I got to see Dr. Jekyll instead of Mr. Hyde, and got him talking about menu ideas. The next week we worked on some of his ideas and sold them as specials and it seemed to put him in good spirits. Then, after a particularly difficult weekend service, I got to have a little heart to heart conversation with him in which he seemed to open up and agreed to try to find better ways for us to work together. But it was not to be. A week later, in the middle of Friday dinner service, I was trying to resolve an issue a mis-printed order and he told me to shut up. When I wouldn't back down, he had a meltdown, yelling, "F*** this place!" and stormed out of the restaurant. I'm sure he thought things would fall apart without him. But you know what, the show must go on, and it did. I had already been training one of my strongest grill cooks to work the saute station, so that evening I told him to do just that, and I would cover his end of the grill. Suddenly everyone stepped up their game, including me. The food runner was calling out orders and expediting, everyone was suddenly talking and communicating with each other. This was no time for ego or grandstanding. We were all in it together and we just had to get through the night's service. After it was all over, it was like a weight had been lifted.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, the Hulk has left the building.

BBQ Chicken Wings, Braised Greens & Cole Slaw

2011-02-01T22:35:00.000-08:00

Collard Greens, Lacinato Kale, Savoy Cabbage, Leeks... These are just some of the things I had lingering in my fridge from my last delivery from Basis "Good Food to You". Since you can click the link and check them out, I won't say too much on the subject except that it's kind of a cross between a CSA and a grocery delivery service that only delivers sustainably raised fully traceable goods, including milk, dairy, and meats. They do not yet deliver to Eastern Queens, but lucky for me I work (and pretty much spend most of my waking hours) in Brooklyn. The produce bag is always a surprise mix of seasonal items, some familiar and some more unusual. I signed on as a way to challenge myself to use ingredients that I may have never encountered before. One week I received Japanese Purple Sweet Potatoes, which were such a revelation I had to order some for the restaurant and worked them into a special with Salmon and Blood Oranges.

But I digress.

Yesterday, I had to find a way to make use of the greens and cabbage I had before they wilted. Braised Southern Style Greens and Cole Slaw seemed like logical (and delicious) ways to make use of this wonderful produce. BBQ Chicken wings and Three-cheese mac n cheese rounded out the meal. For the greens I consulted James Beard's American Cookery. His recipe calls for Collard, Dandelion, and Mustard greens, but I had Collard Greens and Lacinato Kale. His recipe called for ham, but I had a couple chunks of pork belly and a bit of bacon in the freezer instead. Isn't seasonal regional cooking all about adapting cooking techniques to the ingredients available to you anyway?

So sorry folks, but I don't have recipes to share in this post. Instead here are the techniques:

Basic Braised Greens

Hearty bitter Greens such as Collards, Dandelion and Mustard, with tough stems and veins lend themselves very nicely to braising (and pork). The method is simple. Trim, chop and thoroughly wash your greens. Do not dry, but set aside. In a large saucepan, brown diced bacon or whatever pork product you choose to use. If you are using lean meat, you will need to use some oil or fat. (If you do chose to use ham or some other already cooked meat, skip this step and just add it at the end instead). Add the wet greens to the hot pan of meat and fat, and wilt until they turn bright green (see photo above). Add a splash of vinegar (or lemon juice) and some water to the pan, not to cover but just enough to form a puddle at the bottom of the pan and keep the greens from scorching as they cook. Season the whole lot generously with salt and reduce the heat so the liquid is barely simmering. Cook gently until the stems of the greens are just tender (this may take a while if they are thick), tossing them from time to time and adding water as needed. Oh, and when I say season generously, I mean generously. It's the salt and vinegar that takes the bitterness out of the greens. I also like to add a sprinkle of crushed red pepper flakes to the greens as they cook for a little bit of heat.

Basic Cole Slaw

When I make cole slaw, I like to wilt the cabbage first by salting it and letting it weep. This draws out extra moisture so the cole slaw doesn't taste so crunchy and raw. To do this, cut, core, and thinly slice the leaves of a head of cabbage. Toss the cabbage in some salt and set in a non-reactive colander to drain for about an hour or so. After it has wilted slightly, rinse the cabbage and drain well. To make the cole slaw, add shredded or finely diced red onion and if desired, shredded carrot. Mix everything with enough mayonnaise to coat, and add vinegar or lemon juice, salt, and sugar (or honey) to taste. Flavorings you might choose to add could be dijon mustard, toasted celery seed, or even some chili paste or siracha (it complements mayo like you wouldn't believe). Refrigerate and let the flavors meld for a couple hours before serving. You may need to freshen it up with a little lemon juice or vinegar before serving.

Basic Barbecue Sauce

Here is an easy formula for a basic barbecue sauce: 1 part molasses, 1 part ketchup, 1 part vinegar. Just heat the mixture up in a saucepan until the vinegar reduces and the sauce is the right consistency. To that, you can add whatever flavorings you wish: a splash of Tobasco or Frank's Hot Sauce for heat, bourbon, Triple Sec, or some other kind of liquor, hoisin or soy, for an Asian spin, Chipotle peppers for a little Latin kick, horseradish, cocoa, or instant coffee just to name a few. On this particular evening, I didn't even bother with reducing the sauce. I just marinated the chicken wings in the BBQ mixture and put the whole lot in a Pyrex dish in the oven at about 375 degrees, brushing the wings with the pan drippings as they cooked. By the time the wings were cooked most of the vinegar had evaporated and left a thick delicious mess in the bottom of the pan. I just tossed the wings around a bit before arranging them on the plate and pouring the sauce from the pan over them. By the way my BBQ flavoring of choice this evening? Chili Sambal.

The Disclaimer

Okay, so here's the thing about using method over recipes: A lot of it is trial and error, but rule #1 is you must taste everything as you go along (except of course raw chicken and the like). You need to use some judgment and make adjustments along the way as needed. For instance, if you decide to take the lazy way out like I did with my chicken wings, and there's too much space in the pan, you may end up with a black charred crust in the bottom of that pan before your chicken is cooked. Then by all means mix some warm water into the pan before you reach the charred black crust stage! Oh, and rule #2? Where there is room for experimentation, there is also room for much error. On this occasion all went as planned, but that is not always the case. Eh, so sometimes things that seem like a good idea don't always work out on the first try. In those cases, if I can figure out what not to do the next time, at least I've learned something.

Maple Glazed Cornbread, a Delicious Meeting of North & South

2011-01-24T15:20:00.000-08:00

I am obsessed with cookbooks, as I am sure most avid cooks and food bloggers are. From my slowly growing collection I make lists and lists of recipes, techniques, and new things to try. I especially love when the author gives us a little glimpse into how the recipe evolved, information about the ingredients, and where they come from, etc. Still I find my favorite recipes usually come to me not from cookbooks, magazines, internet, or a food focused television network (need I speak the name?), but by word of mouth. This cornbread is made from one such recipe.

The original recipe was given to me by a pastry cook friend of mine, who was sworn to secrecy by her friend, whose Southern forebears would probably roll over in their graves knowing that their heirloom recipe had been passed along to a Yank like me. Until that day I had never been able to produce a moist delicious cornbread from any recipe I tried. Even the Joy of Cooking let me down, and forget the recipe on the back of the cornmeal package. Every attempt resulted in dry, crumbly bread - barely edible when fresh, and definitely not edible the next day. This, I have sadly come to learn, is what distinguishes Northern style cornbread from it's Southern cousin. Northern cornbread is traditionally a savory affair, with a higher proportion of cornmeal, often omitting flour altogether. Was I wrong to want the kind of cornbread I loved at barbecue joints - that sweet, moist bread that was just perfect for mopping up sticky meaty barbecue sauce dripping from a rack of St. Louis pork ribs?

Well, this was it. However, my adaptation differs from the original on two points. First, the recipe given to me called for a portion of cake flour, which is not something I always have on hand. I make it with 100% all purpose flour and actually prefer that it's not as cakey and has a nice looser crumb. The second adjustment is in the glaze. The original recipe calls for a glaze of honey, butter, and water, but I have added that old Yankee flair by using maple syrup in place of honey, and adjusting the proportions to account for it. Applied after the cornbread has baked and has had time to cool slightly, the glaze is the magic key to keeping it moist and buttery. It is even good cold, and will never need to meet a pat of butter. It keeps well, stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to two days, but I have never seen it sit around for that long.

By the way, anyone who wants to try the original recipe can send me a message and I will be happy to send it to you. However I cannot so publicly breach a confidence as by publishing it. Cheers.

INGREDIENTS, for (1) 9" x 13" cake pan:

2 c. cornmeal

2 c. sugar

2-1/2 c. all purpose flour

2 Tbsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

4 eggs

1/3 c. corn, or other neutral cooking oil

1 c. milk

1/2 c. buttermilk

3 oz. (6 Tbsp.) brown butter (see step 3 below)

GLAZE:

1-1/2 oz (3 Tbsp.) butter

1/3 c. pure maple syrup (not the fake stuff, please)

1-2 Tbsp. water

a pinch of salt (optional)

PROCEDURE:

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spray the baking dish or grease with butter.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. In a separate bowl mix the eggs, corn oil, milk, and buttermilk.

3. Meanwhile, make the brown butter. Place the 3 oz. of butter in a small saucepan or saute pan and melt over medium-high heat. Watch it. First the butter will melt, then it will start to foam as the fat separates from the milk solids, visible as white granules or clumps. Once all the water in the butter has evaporated, the milk solids will start fry. Once they are lightly browned and take on a nutty aroma, the butter is ready. Remove immediately from the heat, and be careful because brown butter is VERY HOT. It will continue to cook even after you have taken it off the heat , so let it cool some before using it. Also, take care that you don't burn the butter or it will impart a bitter, carbon like flavor to your bread.

4. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the egg and milk mixture. With a few swift strokes of a wooden spoon or whisk, mix them together briefly. Pour in the cooled brown butter and stir in immediately until the batter is just smooth and uniform, taking care not to overwork it.

5. Pour the batter into the baking dish and bake in on the middle rack of the oven for 30 minutes or until a skewer stuck in the middle comes out clean or with only some crumbs sticking to it. Let cool 5-10 minutes.

6. While the cornbread cools, make the glaze by simply heating all the ingredients together in a small saucepan until the butter is melted. Whisk or stir it briefly to combine the butter with the water and syrup. Using a pastry brush, dab the glaze all over the top of the cornbread. Allow the glaze to absorb and set before cutting the cornbread.

The Importance of Being...Inspired

2010-10-31T08:33:00.000-07:00

Oh a busy busy busy bee is me! I know it's been months since my last post, but between having a new puppy, caring for old cats, resolving yet another car accident (not my fault, I wasn't even in the car), my novice attempts at gardening, and the demands of the restaurant, I don't know where all that time went. A girl can get pretty jaded, living in such a whirlwind. Thank goodness I recently had a birthday, which always makes me restless to shake up my routine, and reflect on what my goals are for the next year to come. Some people make new year's resolutions. Instead I make birthday resolutions.

Resolution number one is to actively stay inspired. Sure, a strong routine can be very valuable for a line cook. It helps you set up your station on time, multi-task during service, and strive toward machine-like precision and consistency. But it can be very easy to let the machine take over and to forget why you're working so hard in the first place. So I'm trying to take better advantage of the city, and see what other chefs are doing from my ever-growing list of restaurants to check out. On a line cook's pay, that's certainly not easy, but at least on my birthday, Boyfriend was picking up the tab!

So for my birthday dinner I chose Degustation, one of the top restaurants on my list. Serving a menu of small plates from an open kitchen surrounded by only 19 seats, it's definitely a restaurant designed with industry folks and food & wine enthusiasts in mind. A friend who recently left the kitchen at Prune to follow her med student fiance to Grenada (winter in the caribbean? me? jealous?) raved about Degustation after having their anniversary dinner there a few months back. Then one of our cooks who recently relocated from the west coast touted his meal at Degustation as among the best he's had. Then when I told one of our bartenders I was considering going there for my birthday he said it was the best meal he'd ever had, and if I had any trouble getting reservations he knew someone who knew someone... So I figured it was time to go and see what all the fuss was about. My day off that week fell on a Tuesday, so I called Degustation that afternoon to make reservations for two. They could only fit us in either really early at 6pm, or later at 9pm because they were expecting a large party at 8pm. 6pm was too early so we took the 9pm reservation.

: Degustation's unassuming exterior

Degustation's entrance, located on E 5th street off 1st avenue, is simple and unassuming. We almost walked right past the restaurant and probably would not have even noticed it if we weren't looking for it. In the dark, the name was barely visible on the solid front door, and the only light was a warm glow that emanated from two square, porthole like windows. We entered through the heavy door into a space that was contemporary and chic, yet warm and comfortable. The host greeted us and immediately showed us to our seats. I was delighted to find that we were seated right in front of the chef 's station, where executive chef Wesley Genovart was artfully plating all the food.

We started off our evening with a couple of beers as we looked over the menu and tried to decide whether or not to try a tasting menu. Boyfriend stuck with his usual Amstel light, while I sipped an Alhambra Negra, a dark Spanish lager with a soft caramel like flavor. The small plates menu featured a crudo of seasonal fish, coca mallorquina, carabinero, and other items also inspired by the chef's Spanish up-bringing. In addition to the a la carte small plates, the restaurant offers a five course tasting menu for $50 per person, and a 10 course tasting for $75 per person. When asked, our server kindly explained that both tasting menus were pre-determined for the evening and that the five course tasting featured only menu items, while the 10 course tasting also featured special items that changed daily, such as sweetbreads and some other things that I didn't hear after she mentioned sweetbreads. So we chose the 10 course tasting. Our server asked us if we had any allergies, which they would be happy to accommodate. No, we didn't, but Boyfriend was really excited to see oxtail among the small plates, so we asked if that might be included as one of our courses. "I'm sure we can make that happen," she replied.

The meal started with an amuse-bouche of two bite size menu items: a pork croqueta and Spanish "tortilla" filled with quail egg and shallot confit. The croqueta was crispy and flavorful, and paired nicely with its bed of paprika spiced aioli. The tortilla was much more delicate in texture and subtle in flavor. While I could appreciate the contrast, it seemed strange to pair the two on the same plate. It did a slight disservice to the tortilla, which I think was good, but whose subtlety was somewhat overpowered by the more assertive croqueta next to it.

: Pork Croqueta and Spanish "Tortilla"

The first course was a delicious chilled marcona almond soup, simply garnished with chives, pea flower, and a marcona almond. It was milky and smooth, and perhaps there was just the slightest suggestion of roasted garlic which pleasantly enhanced the salty sweetness of the almonds.

: Chilled Marcona Almond Soup

Our second course was a crudo of spanish mackerel served over tomato granita and topped with crispy slivered garlic and serrano chiles. The fish was fresh and firm, and I thought the tomato granita added nice chill and acidity to an otherwise oily fish, but Boyfriend did find the garlic too overpowering.

: Crudo of Spanish Mackerel

Next, we were served the Puerro Salda, a warm pureed potato leek soup garnished with octopus, a Barron Point oyster, and padron pepper (which I believe was in the form of a green infused oil). Boyfriend did not like this soup. He found it overwhelmingly "fishy." I could see where he got that, since it had a familiar flavor that was reminiscent of braised abalone I'd eaten at Chinese wedding banquets as a child.

Boyfriend and I shared much discussion about the next dish, which was a trio of sardines. One was simply pan seared and served over roasted red pepper. The second, our favorite preparation, was the chef's play on a sardine sandwich, and featured a sardine seemingly dusted with rice flour, then fried and served over pickled onion and topped again with serrano chiles. The sardine was pleasantly crispy and the onions were tart and I thought I detected a hint of fish sauce in the brine. The third and least favorite was a sardine fillet rolled and served over sauce gribiche, whose flavor Boyfriend likened to the smell Tester's modeling glue. Humbly I must admit that I don't know what sauce gribiche is supposed to taste like, but I had to agree with Boyfriend on this one.

: Trio of Sardines

Next the servers brought us bowls of seared durade with matsutake mushrooms, and eggplant. At the table, they finished the dishes with a matsutake mushroom broth. This was our fifth course, (sixth, if you include the amuse) and to be truthful, by now I was beginning to feel the food equivalent of "Museum Fatigue," a term from my art school days used to describe the kind of sensory overload and subsequent shut-down caused by viewing too much artwork in one visit to the museum. So I have to say that outside of enjoying the broth and the texture of the eggplant and the fish, I can't recall much about the dish's flavors.

Amazingly enough, the next course was just the thing to bring my senses back to life: a warm duck egg mouse with tiny brioche croutons, smoked maple syrup and a strip of lamb bacon all served in the eggshell. It was perfect. The mousse was light, airy, and was just the right temperature to evoke the warmth of a freshly laid egg. The croutons and the bacon were nice and crunchy, and the syrup underneath the mousse added a great sweet smoky finish. I asked Boyfriend, who normally does not like the flavor of lamb, what he thought of the lamb bacon, and he replied, "C'mon, it's bacon, of course it's good."

: Duck Egg Mousse

After having my senses re-awakened, and hearing the server describe it, I was really excited about the next dish: coca Mallorquina with sobresada, wild mushrooms and a red wine reduction. It was good, but after experiencing the perfection of the duck egg mousse, I have to say the coca Mallorquina was a little disappointing. Inspired by a Spanish style pizza or flatbread typical of the Mallorca region, the crust was crispy, but the sobresada seemed a little dry and chewy, and the flavors, though good, were kind of lackluster.

Finally, grilled sweetbreads! I have to admit I had only had sweetbreads either dusted with flour and pan-fried, or poached and glazed with a veal reduction like they did in culinary school. The first being light and crispy on the outside, and rich and creamy inside, the second is just gross. Here however, chef Genovart presented us with grilled veal sweetbreads served over a of succotash-like mixture of fresh corn, green beans, crispy okra and chanterelle mushrooms dressed with tomatillo salsa and cilantro. This was a texture and flavor I had not experienced with sweetbreads before. The char from the grill changed the flavor of the sweetbreads by adding what I can only describe as a kind of bite. Grilling also gave it a supple yet meaty texture that was pleasing to eat, and the acidity of the tomatillo salsa in the corn mixture was just the right foil to the richness of the sweetbreads. Boyfriend and I both really enjoyed this dish.

: Grilled Sweetbreads

Then came the dish Boyfriend was waiting for: potato "Cannelloni" filled with oxtail and grilled on the plancha, served with crispy shallot, a fresh herb salad and radishes. This was a delicious and enjoyable dish. The cannelloni was actually thinly sliced potato wrapped around a tender filling of braised oxtail. The potato had a crisp sear from the plancha, the radishes were a peppery accompaniment, and the herbs added a nice freshness to the dish. This was the last savory course and was a good way to move onto dessert.

: Oxtail with Potato "Cannelloni"

But wait! Before dessert we were presented with a lovely cheese plate, with birthday wishes from my bartender friend. What a nice surprise. It featured cheeses from Spain and Switzerland accompanied by a marcona almond puree, fresh honey on the comb, black currant preserves, and a poached pear.

: Surprise Cheese Plate

Last, but not least, dessert was a simple yet delicious bread pudding of brioche soaked in cream, then caramelized on top, and served with fresh berries. Our server said it was a dessert very typical of the Basque region. As we enjoyed our dessert, we chatted a little with chef Genovart as he and his crew packed up their stations (by now the restaurant had been closed for almost a half hour) and dutifully scrubbed everything clean. I thought of how this crew was expected to perform every evening, with all their actions totally exposed to their patrons, and from the eater's point of view, how our reactions and comments about the food were visible and audible to those preparing it. I pondered on how different this was from the closed kitchen, where among the din of servers coming in and out of the swinging door, the clang of the dish machine hatch opening and closing, the scrambling of dishwashers rushing to restock clean pans and collect dirty ones from the line, and the voice of the chef calling out orders, our only connection to the dining room is through the waitstaff.

Overall I would have to say that our meal at Degustation was a really good one. At $75 per person, it was well worth it for a 10 course tasting, and at the end of the meal I was satisfied without being full. The servers described each dish as it was served, and patiently answered any questions I had about particular components. The dishes were generally well executed and good, although some were definitely more memorable than others. We'll definitely go back, but now that we've had the tasting menu, there are some other items on the small plates menu we would like to try, and some dishes from our tasting that we would order a la carte. As for my birthday resolution, it was a great success. I definitely left feeling re-freshed, and inspired with ideas for new ingredients, techiniques, and combinations I'll be trying myself.

Chicken Soup with Fresh Spaeztle

2010-06-17T13:49:00.000-07:00

Chicken Soup with fresh Spaeztle, made from remnants of a failed experiment.

Cooking can be very frustrating when things don't work out as planned. Last week I was so excited about finding fresh cranberry beans at my local market I had to pick some up. Along with that I picked up some kielbasa, a chicken, and some basics: onions, carrots, celery, herbs etc. It was unseasonably cool, and I had in mind a one-pot meal of braised chicken with pork and beans. Well, I won't go into the gory details, but it wasn't one of my best laid out plans. My estimated cooking times for all the different ingredients were off - a very important factor if they are all going into the same pot, I might add - and I ended up with undercooked beans, and dry, bland, chicken. Well, all the stereotypical temperamental chefs came to life in my kitchen that evening - so much so that I heard the boyfriend whisper to Sadie, "Leave mama alone, it's not safe in the kitchen right now." When I was through throwing my tantrum, I wrapped the chicken up and put it in the fridge, finished cooking the beans through, then seared some slices of kielbasa, and fried a couple of eggs. We ended up having mediocre but edible Kielbasa and Beans with Fried Eggs for dinner.

The one positive result of that evening was that I managed to use all the chicken carcasses I had stored up in my freezer to make a giant batch of chicken stock. It really came in really handy a couple days later, when the boyfriend came down with a cold and a bad sore throat. Cheers! Chicken soup to the rescue. I love a good chicken noodle soup, and having fresh chicken stock, and leftover chicken in the fridge always makes quick work of it. I didn't have any egg noodles in my pantry, but I did have eggs, flour, and milk to make Spaetzle instead. It was so quick and easy, I don't think that my Chicken Soup will ever see another dried egg noodle.

Chicken Soup with Fresh Spaeztle

INGREDIENTS, makes about 3 quarts

3-4 Tbsp. neutral oil (such as canola or grapeseed)

3/4 cup diced carrots

3/4 cup diced celery

1 cup diced onion

1 clove of garlic minced

2 quarts chicken stock, preferably unsalted

a bouquet garni of fresh thyme, oregano, and a bay leaf, tied together with twine or bound in cheesecloth

salt and pepper

the meat of one 3-4 lb. chicken, cooked, skin and bones removed, and cut into 1/2" chunks

For the Spaeztle:

2 eggs

1/3 cup milk

1/4 tsp. salt

pinch of nutmeg

pinch of cayenne pepper

1 cup flour (6 oz. by weight)

SPECIAL EQUIPMENT:

A stockpot with a fitted steamer insert or a metal/heatproof colander that will rest on the rim of your soup pot.

PROCEDURE:

1. Combine the carrots and celery and a couple tablespoons of oil in a tall 8 quart stockpot. Season with salt and pepper and cook over medium low heat for about 5 minutes. Add the onions and garlic, and additional oil if needed to coat the onions, and cook for another 5-10 minutes or until the onions are translucent.

2. Add the chicken stock and herbs, then turn the heat to high and bring the mixture to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer gently until the celery and carrots are almost cooked through.

3. Meanwhile make the spaetzle batter. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk and spices. Then add the flour and mix with a whisk or spoon until uniform. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and set aside.

4. When the vegetables are close to cooked through, transfer the spaeztle batter the colander or steamer insert. Place the steamer insert in the stockpot, or if you are using a colander, rest it on rim of the stockpot. There should be a couple inches of space between the bottom of the insert/colander and the liquid. Turn the soup to high and using your rubber spatula, push the batter through the holes of the colander so the pieces drop into the boiling soup. It will only take a minute or so for the spaeztle to float to the surface - a good indication that they are cooked. When you think you have enough noodles, simply remove the insert/colander and discard any remaining batter.

5. Add the cooked chicken to the pot and bring everything back to a boil, just to warm the chicken through. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Notes:

The recipe calls for a generous amount of chicken stock to account for the liquid absorbed by cooking the spaeztle directly in the soup. I prefer this method only because the starch adds body to the soup the same way adding pasta cooking water to sauces does. You may prefer to cook your spaeztle in a separate pot of salted water to have better control over the cooking process.

This recipe is best made with homemade Chicken Stock.

Linguine with Chorizo & Clams

2010-05-19T11:08:00.000-07:00

Wednesday is my Sunday. It's the only day of the week that I'm sure to be off from work ,and usually all I want to do is relax at home with my cat asleep on my lap, or run around the park with Sadie. So lately, we've just been ordering in or eating at someplace local on my night off. Thing is, the eatery options in Eastern Queens are pretty, well, blah. (Any foodie neighbors with suggestions please let me know!) There are a couple of good pizzerias, a decent Indian restaurant, and several late night diners, but this girl can't live on pizza, curry, and burgers alone. Oh what I'd give for an authentic Mexican joint that's not run by the Chinese take out folks next door! There's nothing like having a craving for something good and ending up with a bland and disappointing meal. It's enough to drive a lazy cook back into her kitchen!

So this week, when I had a craving for seafood, I decided to take matters into my own hands. At least if the meal was a flop, I would have no one else to blame but myself. I have to say, I wasn't planning on getting clams. Pretty much every clam we've eaten in New York has had an unpleasant and bitter metallic finish that is unlike any clam we had in New England. But today I was visiting a new fishmonger who had both farmed Long Island clams, and wild caught Connecticut clams. He seemed to think the bitterness could be from the farmed clams. I was skeptical, but decided to gamble on the wild Connecticut clams and took a dozen of them home. Although they weren't as sweet as Rhode Island clams, they certainly didn't have a strong bitter finish, and I think the preparation helped to mask it.

At first I was going to go with a simple linguine and white clam sauce, but when I got home, I realized that I didn't have any white wine. I did have an open bottle of pinot noir, plenty of beer, red pepper and chorizo, so I ended up going in a more Spanish inspired direction. Improvising can be tricky, and believe me I've had my fair share of flops, but sometimes things do work out. Here's the recipe, approximately:

INGREDIENTS (serves 2 very generously):

4-5 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

1 large spanish (yellow) onion, diced small

1 large red bell pepper, diced small

3-4 cloves garlic

pinch of saffron

4 oz. dry chorizo sausage, diced small

1/2 lb. dry linguine or other pasta

2 plum tomatoes, seeded and diced

1/4 c. medium bodied red wine

1/4 c. lager beer

crushed red pepper

1 dozen small clams, such as cherrystones or liittlenecks, scrubbed clean

1/2 c. chopped fresh parsley

1-2 Tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro (optional)

salt and pepper

PROCEDURE:

1. First make a sofrito: In a medium sauce pan over low-medium heat, slowly cook the onions and red pepper in plenty of olive oil and a little salt until they are very soft. The onions should be transparent, and there should be no browning of the vegetables. Then add the garlic and saffron, and cook for another 30 seconds until the garlic is fragrant. Then add the chorizo and cook for another 5 minutes to develop the flavors.

2. While the sofrito is cooking, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook the pasta. Place the chopped tomatoes in a colander, and drain the pasta into it, reserving 1/2 cup or so of the cooking liquid. Toss the pasta and tomatoes in a little olive oil to prevent it from sticking.

3. Add the wine, beer and crushed red pepper to the sofrito and turn the heat to high. As soon as the liquids come to a boil, add the clams, cover the pot, and reduce the heat to a simmer. Periodically give the pan a little shake until the clams steam open. Remove the clams and set aside, discarding any that do not open.

4. Add the fresh herbs to the pan and reduce the cooking liquid slightly. Season to taste, and toss with the pasta and clams, adding some of the pasta cooking liquid if necessary.

NOTES: Use good quality olive oil. It is a big flavor component in the sofrito, and if it doesn't have good flavor, the finished product definitely won't. The same goes for the beer and wine. Use stuff that tastes good enough to drink. The clams will absorb their flavors, and when the liquids reduce during cooking, the flavors will intensify as well.

Carbon Steel Fry Pans, Oh Yes I Do!

2010-04-27T11:07:00.000-07:00

De Buyer Mineral after seasoning (Front), and Paderno World Cusine before seasoning (Back).

Non-stick pans skeeve me out. Teflon and other high tech coatings may be relatively harmless, but only up to a certain temperature, at which point they start to give off toxic gases. I also haven't met a non-stick pan that doesn't scratch or peel, whatever promises they make. So then you have to replace it or risk the coating coming off on your food. Doesn't sound like a healthy relationship to me.

I ditched non-stick a long time ago in favor of seasoned steel cookware. It all started years ago at Kmart, when I bought a Martha Stewart 10" cast iron fryer. Inexpensive and reliable, it now has a sexy black sheen from years of Sunday morning bacon and eggs. Since then, I have gradually accumulated a dutch oven, a 12" fry pan, a grill pan, and a flat skillet too. When it comes to cast iron, I now buy Lodge Logic because their pans come already seasoned. The downside to cast iron is the weight, and there is no way to make a proper omelet in a cast iron pan. It takes two hands for me to lift the 12" fry pan even when it's empty, and I could probably use it to take out a 250 lb. intruder with a single blow to the head. Cast iron is also brittle, and can break from the impact if dropped, or crack if heated too quickly over high heat.

So recently, I decided to look into getting myself some traditional European style carbon steel fry pans. They're much lighter than cast iron, but still heavier than aluminum or copper core stainless pans. There are a bunch of carbon steel pans out there - some referred to as Black Steel, some as Carbon Steel, and even Blue Steel. But they are all raw steel that must be seasoned before use. Seasoning refers to the process of sealing a steel pan with oil, which protects it from rust and provides a natural non-stick coating that only gets better with use. The process for all raw steel pans, including cast iron, is pretty standard. Basically you want to make sure the pan is clean of any residue from the manufacturing or packaging process. Then you just coat the pan with a flavorless oil and heat the pan. Then once the pan is cool, wipe out the excess oil. If the coating ever gets messed up, you can just scrub the pan clean and start all over.

After browsing around and reading some reviews, I settled on buying a set of three De Buyer Mineral fry pans. Released in 2010, the De Buyer Mineral series are 99% iron, made from recycled material, and can be used with the widest range of heat sources, including induction cook tops. The set includes 8",10", and 12" Lyon shaped fry pans, with deep angled sides. The seasoning instructions included with the De Buyer pans were a little more involved. Before you season the pan, they instruct you to boil some potato peelings in the pan for 15 minutes, dispose of the peelings, then rinse and wipe the pan dry. It appears that the starch in the potatoes binds to any grime embedded in the metal that is released as the pan is heated, resulting in a more thorough cleaning. Next De Buyer instructs you to heat about 1/2 cm of oil in the bottom of the pan instead of just coating the pan with oil. The rest of the process is the same.

Anyone skeptical of the recycled Mineral pans can put their reservations to rest. I am in love with these pans! They performed beautifully right after the initial seasoning. I cooked myself an over easy egg in the 8" pan with just a little butter and the pan was so slick the egg slid around and flipped effortlessly. French Toast and Pork Chops browned up nicely and didn't stick to the 10" or 12" pans.

For sake of comparison I also ordered a less expensive Paderno 8" heavy duty carbon steel pan ($26.90 at Amazon). At first glance there are obvious differences between the pans. The De Buyer pans have a smoother factory finish, a higher offest handle, and more eye-appeal. The Paderno pan is much more basic. It is heavier and shaped more like a standard saute pan, with shallower sides and a straigher handle than it's De Buyer counterpart. Performance wise though, they are the same. Eggs slid around just as easily in the Paderno pan, and the crusty residue left by the beans for my Huevos Rancheros wiped clean with a paper towel.

So from a cost standpoint, the Paderno pan was a more ecomonical choice, but I do like the fact that the Mineral pans are made from recycled material. Regardless, I expect to have a long and happy relationship with these pans. Both of them are great, and with proper care and maintenance I'm sure they'll last long enough to be passed down to my grandchildren, or be sent off to the thrift store to find a new life once I'm long gone.

Notes about Carbon Steel/ Raw Steel cookware:

Great for pan roasting and saute-ing, and cooking foods that tend to stick to other pans. Stir fries or dishes that use plenty of oil or fat are the perfect use for these pans. Your food will get a nice sear and the fat will maintain the pan's seasoning.

Care is the same as cast iron. To clean, just rinse in really hot tap water and wipe out any residue with a dry towel. If by some chance there is some food stuck to the pan, you can make a paste of coarse salt and a little water, and use a dry sponge or towel to scrub out the offending matter. I find filling the pan with really hot water and scrubbing with a natural bristle brush (like a vegetable cleaning brush) works better than the salt paste and doesn't damage the seasoning. Before storing, dry the pan thoroughly, and use a paper towel or clean dish towel to thinly coat it with vegetable oil.

Cooking highly acidic foods can strip away the seasoning on your pan. So keep the vinegar away - save your stainless cookware for that.

Char Siu & Chinese Broccoli with Budding Chives

2010-04-08T19:29:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make. Despite my Asian heritage, I don't know much about cooking Asian food. Sure, I know how to stir-fry and know how to use the more common Asian ingredients, but Mom's home cooking was nothing like restaurant food. After years of cooking for myself, then going to culinary school, I can make Bechamel sauce for mac and cheese, French Onion Soup, and Chipotle and Chorizo Chili without blinking an eye, but ask me how to make Chinese standards like Red Cooked Pork, Sweet & Sour Sauce, or Kung Pao Chicken, and I wouldn't know where to start.

So last weekend when Chef and I were batting around ideas for a special using Black Sea Bass, and he said "Why don't we go Asian?" I felt my heart sink. Um, anytime my family went out for say, Chinese, we ate family style and had giant fish steamed whole, head on and everything, with a simple garnish of ginger and garlic. The waiter would cut the fish open and remove it's spine and ribs tableside. Then my mind went to all the restaurants in Chinatown with succulent roasted meats hanging in their windows, beckoning hungry patrons from the street. I thought of my favorite Thai joint in Astoria, and the hot stone bowl casseroles and seafood pancakes at my favorite Korean restaurant. Still, I didn't know how to cook any of these dishes, much less how to adapt them to western style fine dining.

I took this as motivation to get back in the kitchen - my home kitchen - and further educate myself on how to use new ingredients and new methods. I thought I would start with one of my favorite comfort food items, and a Chinese staple: Char Siu, or Chinese roast pork. It always reminds me of working summers at my Dad's office in Chinatown, where I would regularly have a simple lunch of Char Siu with white rice and fresh stir-fried greens. So I decided to consult the country's leading authority: Martin Yan. I copied down the ingredients from my autographed copy of Martin Yan's China and drove down to my local Asian grocery. The budding chives and Chinese broccoli looked really fresh, so I picked up some of those too and stir fried them with some fresh garlic and chili sambal. I know that Siracha Sauce is all the rage right now, but I prefer Chili Sambal as a spicy condiment.

By the way, a thousand pardons for the recipe drought. I've been cooking a lot, just not at home, and nothing I can share. I finally got some time this week to cook for Boyfriend and myself. This recipe for Char Siu is for oven roasting, but I'll bet grilling over hardwood charcoal would be smoky and delicious too! Enjoy.

Char Siu (Chinese BBQ Roast Pork)

Adapted from Martin Yan's China

Notes: Mr. Yan's recipe was just like my memories of Chinatown, except for a couple things. First, it called for sugar in the marinade, which I found unnecessary. Also, after cooking, his instructions were to simply bring the marinade to a boil and brush over the pork before serving. I found the resulting sauce was too sweet and thick for my taste. After bringing it to a boil, I diluted the marinade with some hot water and that seemed to do the trick.

INGREDIENTS, serves 4

(3) 1/2 lb.well marbled shoulder steaks or 1-1/2 lbs. pork butt

1/4 c. soy sauce

1/4 c. honey

1/4 c. hoisin sauce

3 Tbsp. rice wine or dry sherry

2 tsp. minced garlic

2 tsp. minced ginger

1 tsp. sesame oil

1 tsp. ground white pepper

1 tsp. Chinese 5-spice powder

PROCEDURE:

1. If you are using pork butt, slice the meat into three pieces of equal thickness.

2. To make the marinade, mix the rest of the ingredients in a large bowl. Add the meat, cover and let marinate in the refrigerator for 4 to 24 hours. (I only had time for 4 hours, but if you marinate longer, you'll get more flavor, and an attractive red ring around the meat when it's sliced).

3. To cook, preheat oven to 400°F. Place a rack over a baking dish (you may want to line it with foil for easy cleanup). Pour about 1/4" of water in the baking dish. Arrange the meat slices in a single layer on the rack and roast, basting with the marinade every 15 minutes until they are cooked through. (For 1" thick shoulder steaks, it took about 45 minutes). Let the meat rest for about 15 minutes then slice it against the grain.

4. Combine the marinade with any pan drippings in a small saucepan and bring it all to a boil over high heat. Dilute with hot water if you want a thinner, less sweet sauce, or simmer and reduce if you want a thicker sweeter sauce. Brush over the pork and serve.

Stir Fried Chinese Broccoli with Budding Chives

Notes: Chinese broccoli can be braised whole, but the stalks stay very crunchy long after the leaves are wilted. By separating the leaves and floret from the stalk, then slicing the stalk into smaller pieces, everything will cook more evenly and be less work to eat.

INGREDIENTS, serves 4:

one bunch (about 12 stalks) of Chinese Broccoli

one bunch (about 1/4 lb.) Budding Chives

1-1/2 to 2 tsp. minced garlic

3 Tbsp. vegetable oil

salt

1 tsp. Chili Sambal (adjust to taste)

PROCEDURE:

1. Wash the Chinese Broccoli thoroughly in a large container of water. Separate the large outer leaves from stalk and trim the florets to 2" long pieces. Thinly slice the thick part of the stalk. Cut the Budding Chives into 2" long pieces.

2. Combine oil and garlic. Heat wok over high heat. Pour oil garlic mixture into the wok and swirl around a few seconds. Add all the Chinese broccoli and Budding Chives to the wok. Saute for about 5 minutes over high heat, stirring continuously, and adding oil as needed to lightly coat the vegetables.

3. Add enough water so that after any steam clears, there is about 1/4" of water at the bottom of the wok. Simmer over high heat until most of the water has evaporated and the broccoli is cooked but still bright green. Season with salt and Chili Sambal to taste.

Lazy Holiday

2010-01-13T08:58:00.000-08:00

Ahh, three days off in a row. Thanks to the restaurant being closed for Christmas, I was able to spend an idyllic holiday with my man at his parents' home in Rhode Island. After loading some much needed laundry into the pickup truck, Boyfriend, Sadie (now 65 lbs.) and I squeezed into the cab and made our way through rush hour traffic through Connecticut. Poor Sadie couldn't get comfortable and kept trying to push us out of her way so she could stretch out. It was a very trying and uncomfortable ride for all. Despite all our travel woes, it was well worth it to arrive in Barrington, RI that evening and find the little cottage by the shore and everything around it blanketed with nearly two feet of fresh powder white snow. Pulling some cold beers from the snow on the porch, we went inside to enjoy some hot D'Angelo's sandwiches.

By the way, D'Angelo's is a local sandwich store chain specializing in freshly grilled sandwiches, and definitely one of little Rhody's best kept secrets. The entire ride up, Boyfriend was looking forward to having a large #9 combo - a generous helping of freshly grilled steak, peppers, and onions slathered in melted cheese in a 12" sub roll. I would normally order a hamburger sandwich - grilled hamburger patties with all the fixings, also on a sub roll - and we would split each sandwich. We also picked up a meatball sandwich and an Italian sandwich (the real deal, complete with real prosciutto) for Mom and Dad to share. Also, if you are ever in town, don't ever call it a hero or a sub. True Rhode Islanders eat grinders.

Christmas Eve morning was unusually relaxed. Absent was the usual buzz of activity. Boyfriend is the oldest of five children, and rarely a holiday is spent without it's share of sibling drama. But this was our first Christmas at his parents' with none of his siblings were around. One sister, my usual partner in crime in the kitchen, in years past would arrive with a few friends in tow, but was traveling to Alsace-Lorraine in France to meet her boyfriend's family this year. Younger brother was also in Europe, having moved to Germany three years ago. Another sister was now living in Baltimore, MD, and was spending the holiday with her boyfriend's family in Lancaster, PA. Finally, Boyfriend's youngest sister was now living in Austin, TX and would be spending the holiday with her boyfriend's family in the Lone Star state. Instead, the four of us simply putted around in our pajamas and consumed copious amounts of coffee into the early afternoon. It was a different kind of fun from years past, but I couldn't think of a more perfectly lazy way to spend holiday.

Well, Boyfriend's Mom admits to having no love of cooking, and it had been too long since I did any serious home-cooking, so I happily volunteered to prepare a simple menu for our little holiday party. For Christmas Eve, I decided on something easy, and made a simple pork loin roast with braised kale and risotto with peas. Christmas Day was only slightly more elaborate and included a roulade of chicken with corn bread and apple stuffing, creamy green bean with mushroom casserole, and pan roasted brussel sprouts with diced butternut squash.

I had ambitions of making pumpkin bread and apple pie, but they never materialized. Unlike the organized chaos of holidays past, with a sumptuous spread planned out days in advance, and two or three cooks scrambling for space in the kitchen to feed a table of 12-15 family, friends, and sig-o's, I decided to take it easy. After all, this was my vacation. So this year, I took time to have lunch with the family at Newport Creamery, another Rhode Island institution, and topped off my meal with their signature coffee Awful Awful milkshake. I took the time to join Boyfriend at the beach for playtime with Sadie and the neighbors' dogs. And...I made up for all those trips to the laundromat that we never made at home. In her infinite wisdom, Boyfriend's Mom made sure we had a store-bought pumpkin pie, just in case I never got around to making dessert.

After eating, the four of us wound down our Christmas Eve with a few rounds of Clue, using an antique set from Europe, dubbed "Cluedo," and Christmas night with a few rounds of a card game known as Pope Joan. We also have a tradition of watching Dad's DVDs of Jeeves and Wooster every holiday. I tried stay awake for a few episodes - Oh how I wanted the holiday to last just a little longer! But alas, I succumbed to food (and drink) coma.

Then it was all over. The next morning it was back to reality and back to work. Not only was it a Saturday after the restaurant had been closed for two days, but in addition to my usual duties, I was helping out the pastry department while our pastry chef was on vacation (more on my new adventures in pastry later...). So at 6:30, in the dark of the early morning, we left a note for Boyfriend's folks thanking them for another great holiday, and set out for for home. Until next time, Rhode Island. I'll miss ya!

Lemon Cucumber & Tomato Salad

2009-08-05T22:19:00.000-07:00

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.

http://lh4.ggpht.com/_7BsEbHka6gk/Snb4pnKjFJI/AAAAAAAABNY/PHQfYF4dqaY/s512/Tomato%20Cuke%20Salad-edit.jpg

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

2009-07-01T07:46:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-30T22:23:00.001-07:00

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.

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.

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

2009-06-19T09:55:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-28T06:36:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-21T12:12:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-03-12T19:16:00.001-07:00

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

2009-03-05T16:20:00.000-08:00

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.

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.

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

2009-03-05T00:01:00.000-08:00

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)

2009-03-05T00:00:00.000-08:00

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

2009-03-03T14:06:00.000-08:00

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

2009-02-12T23:23:00.000-08:00

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

Recipe: All Butter Pie Crust

2009-02-12T12:00:00.000-08:00

Pie crust is made actually made up of tiny particles of fat each encased in a dough of flour and water (or another liquid). It is this combination of flour and water that actually makes the dough elastic enough to roll. Problems arise if the butter gets too soft while you are cutting the ingredients together. It will start to coat the flour particles (instead of the other way around), causing them to actually repel the water and not form the dough properly. Even if you manage to bring it together into a disc and chill it, the resulting dough will be greasy and difficult to work with. It won't be elastic enough to roll and as the butter softens again it will bleed out and stick to your work surface. Believe me, I learned this the hard way.

Don't worry, it's not as difficult as it sounds. The biggest challenge in making all butter pie crust is simply keeping the butter COLD. The less you handle the dough the better, since the heat from your hands will cause the butter the melt. This is where a food processor comes in really handy since it makes quick work of cutting the ingredients together, thereby reducing both the amount of contact you have with the dough and the amount of time the butter is at room temperature. If you don't have a food processor, use tools like a pastry cutter (don't bother with the wire kind, which won't cut through ice cold butter) or a bench scraper to cut the ingredients together. Then use a rubber spatula or plastic bench scraper to blend the dough. I actually go with the hand method most of the time because cleaning the food processor is such a pain anyway. If you need to, just chill your ingredients in the freezer between each step to make sure everything stays nice and cold.

Ingredients for a single 9" pie crust:

(for a double pie crust, simply double the recipe)

1-1/4 c. flour
1/2 tsp. table salt or 1 tsp. coarse kosher salt
1-1/2 tsp. sugar (optional, for sweet pies)
8 Tbsp. butter, diced
3-4 Tbsp. ice water, plus more if needed

Procedure:

1. Chill the pieces of butter in the freezer.

2. Cut the ingredients together, starting with the butter and flour:

Using a food processor: Combine the flour and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Sprinkle the butter cubes over the flour mixture and just pulse a few times until it starts to resemble to texture of wet sand, with pieces of butter no bigger than a small pea. Pulse a few times more, adding just enough ice water for the dough to start to clump together.

By hand: In a bowl or on a flat work surface, sprinkle the pieces of butter over the flour and salt mixture. Using a pastry cutter, or bench scraper, quickly cut the butter into the flour until there are pieces no bigger than a pea. Check to make sure the pieces of butter are still firm, and chill the mixture in the freezer if needed before adding the water. Sprinkle the water over the butter flour mixture and cut it into the dough, adding more as needed until the dough begins to clump together.

: Butter cubes sprinkled over flour

: Butter and flour cut together

: Dough after cutting in water

3. Fraisage. Though it is not necessary, using a technique a known as fraisage to blend the dough will help you achieve a flakier crust when using only butter. The traditional way is to turn the dough out onto a floured surface, and using the heel of your hand, to smear the dough a little at a time against the board. I find the heat of your hand causes the butter to melt too quickly so I prefer to use a plastic bench scraper. You can also transfer the dough to a large bowl instead, and use a rubber spatula to smear the dough against the side of the bowl.

4. Rest the dough. On a lightly floured surface, gather the dough into a disc (or two, for a double crust pie) by gathering up the sides with one hand while pressing on the top with the other. Wrap the disc in plastic wrap. You can flatten the disc a little more once it's wrapped - the plastic wrap helps to hold it together. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes before rolling.

: Forming the dough into a disc

: wrapped disc of dough

5. Roll your crust. If the dough has gotten too hard from chilling, let it sit for a few minutes at room temperature. Unwrap it, and on a lightly floured surface, use your rolling pin to press gently on the disc from the middle outward. Flatten it out until your knuckles touch the work surface. Then, starting from the middle, roll first away from you, then toward you. Rotate the dough (or your rolling pin) 45 degrees and roll again, from the middle outward. Continue rotating and rolling until the dough is about 1/8" thick.

: pressing on the dough

: rolling the dough away from you

: then toward you

: final dough, rolled about 1/8" thick

: Rolled dough is smooth and elastic, encasing layers of butter visible underneath.

6. To transfer the dough to the pie plate, you can either roll it onto the rolling pin and unroll it over the plate, or fold the dough in half, then half again and unfold it over the pie plate.

: rolling dough onto rolling pin

: transferring folded dough to pie plate

7. For best results, refrigerate the prepared pie plate and let the dough to rest for another 30 minutes before filling or blind baking. This will also improve the texture of the crust and reduce shrinkage during baking.

Recipe: Torta Salata (Vegetable Torte)

2009-02-12T00:02:00.000-08:00

This is one of my favorite almost vegetarian recipes. It's really simple, and is a great way to make a hearty meal out of couple pounds of vegetables. Almost any firm vegetable will work, as long as it is not too wet. I usually use zucchini, which I salt to draw out the moisture, then drain before using. Whatever you use, make sure you season the vegetables before using them, and that you have enough to tightly fill the pie plate. The egg and cheese mixture adds a nice creamy texture, and binds the whole thing together.

: Torta Salata with Zucchini, using all butter pie crust

For the pastry, I usually like to use puff pastry, but you can use a regular pie crust, or omit the pastry altogether. Here is the recipe using zucchini, which is adapted from Savoring Italy, by Robert Freson.

Ingredients for a 9" torta:

a single 9' pie crust or puff pastry crust

1-1/2 lbs. zucchini, sliced into 1/4" discs

2 whole eggs

3 egg yolks

1/2 c. ricotta cheese

3 Tbsp. grated parmesan cheese

a pinch of nutmeg

kosher or other coarse salt

pepper

additional egg wash (optional)

Procedure:

1. Lay the slices of zucchini out in a single layer on a cooling rack or cookie sheet lined with several paper towels or a clean cotton towel. Generously sprinkle with salt and set aside.

2. Meanwhile prepare your pastry crust and line the pie plate. Set aside in the refrigerator.

3. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

4. In a medium sized bowl, beat together the eggs and egg yolks. Gently mix in the cheeses, and season with a pinch of nutmeg, salt, and pepper.

5. Using paper towels or a clean cloth towel, blot the zucchini dry then arrange them tightly in the prepared pie plate. Pour in the egg mixture so that it fills in the gaps and just covers the vegetables.

6. Brush the edges of the pastry with egg wash, if desired, and bake the torta for 40-50 minutes until the center is firm and the top is golden brown. Cool for 3 minutes before cutting.

: Zucchini Torta Salata fresh from the oven

Ideas and Variations:

This torta is also delicious using swiss chard stems or asparagus in place of the zucchini. To prepare swiss chard or asparagus for use in this recipe, simply blanch them for a couple of minutes in generously salted boiling water, then cool in ice water. Drain, then cut into 1-2 inch lengths and assemble the torte as directed above. If you are using asparagus be sure to trim or peel the tough ends from the asparagus before blanching.

Try using Homemade Ricotta instead of store bought.

Recipe: Cardamom Pumpkin Tart

2009-02-12T00:01:00.000-08:00

Here is a slightly Asian spin on an American favorite. It's a recipe I came up with on the fly one Thanksgiving when I was cooking at Boyfriend's sister's apartment. I started with a recipe for pumpkin pie from the America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook, which called for nutmeg and a host of other spices, some of which our host didn't have. So I had to improvise. She happened to have cardamom, which she liked to use in her apple pie. So I decided to use just use some cardamom and ginger, and it was a surprise hit. One guest said she usually didn't like pumpkin pie, but liked this one. I like to use a deep dish tart pan with fluted edges, which works great with both flour and graham cracker crusts.

Ingredients (for a 9" deep dish tart or pie):

1 recipe 9" pie crust

1 15 oz. can pumpkin puree

1 cup dark brown sugar

1/2 - 1 tsp. ground ginger (optional)

1/4 tsp. ground cardamom

1/2 tsp. table salt (or 1 tsp. coarse kosher salt)

2/3 cup heavy cream

2/3 cup whole milk

4 large eggs

Procedure:

1. Blind bake the crust: Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F, and position the oven rack to the lower-middle position. Prepare your crust and line the tart pan or pie pan. Line the crust with parchment or aluminum foil and weigh it down with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 15-25 minutes until golden.

: preparing the tart pan

: crust ready to be blind-baked, with beans for pie weights

2. Meanwhile prepare the filling. Timing is important here, since the filling must be warm, and poured into the crust when it's hot out of the oven. In a medium saucepan, over medium heat stir together the pumpkin puree, brown sugar, spices, and salt. Stirring continuously, cook the pumpkin until it's thick and shiny.

3. Whisk in the cream and milk, and simmer a minute or two, stirring to prevent the mixture from scalding. Remove from heat and set aside to cool while you beat the eggs.

4. In a medium bowl, whisk the eggs until they are well blended. Temper the eggs by adding half the warm pumpkin mixture, whisking to combine. Add the rest of the pumpkin and whisk until all the ingredients are blended together.

5. When the crust is ready, remove the weights and liner, and immediately pour the filling into the hot crust. Raise the temperature of the oven to 400 degrees and bake the tart for 25 minutes until the crust is golden brown, the filling is puffed up, and the center just barely wiggles when you move the pan. If you overcook the pie, the filling will crack.

: fresh from the oven

6. Cool completely before serving.

: if needed, rest the tart pan on a large can to unmold

7. Try serving the tart with fresh unsweetened whipped cream drizzled with honey (or try sweetening the whipped cream with a little honey instead of sugar).

T minus 16 Hours and Counting...

2009-02-08T10:59:00.000-08:00

Well, I headed it off as long as I could, but I knew at some point I would have to work brunch. I'm not much of a morning person. OK, I am NOT a morning person. On a normal day, I barely manage to drag myself out of bed by 10 a.m. Then I putt around the house for a few hours in my pajamas before heading off to work. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that I'm usually up until 3 or 4 a.m. writing. So when the new schedule went up last week, I breathed a sigh of resignation at not only being assigned the brunch shift on Saturday, but a double shift to boot. It had been in the wind for a while. Gloria and Flaca had been working doubles on Saturday and Sunday for a long time and eventually my turn had to come around.

: Gloria and Flaca, keeping entertained while working a double shift....

So, Friday night after my dinner shift I tried to be diligent and get to bed at a reasonable hour, but Boyfriend's co-worker had lent him a bootleg of Grand Tourino which we ended up watching until 3 a.m. In reality, Boyfriend fell asleep before the movie ended. Anyway, four hours later, I hit the snooze button a few times, then finally stumbled out of bed. 7:30 in the morning, what the f---? walk dog...no time for coffee...what? frost on my car? ugh...

The drive to work was faster than usual (I bet only serial killers willingly get up this early on a Saturday) and I was the first to arrive. As I walked into the prep kitchen, there was the cleanup crew, dressed in their street clothes and ready to be relieved of duty. You have no idea how depressing it was to realize that I had said goodnight to them only eight hours earlier, and would see them again in another 16 hours. That's right, 16 hours. I chose not to think too much on it and just get to work.

First I went upstairs to the service kitchen and turned on the fryer because it takes forever to heat up. Back downstairs, I ran into the pastry cook as we were both heading to our boiler room/ locker room to get changed. She is another recent FCI grad who currently has a two hour commute from Jersey, so I guess I should stop my pissing and moaning now. Once changed, I grabbed a cutting board and headed back up to the service kitchen to find that it had started to fill up with smoke. What the...? I thought, then realized that there was NO OIL IN THE FRYER. Duh. Of course, the cleanup crew empties the fryer and cleans it every night. I quickly shut the fryer off and propped the back door open. As I turned on the exhaust hood, a cold blast of air came in from the open door. The exhaust hood at work is so powerful that in the winter, our kitchen is actually cold. I lugged a 5-gallon container of fresh oil up the stairs and emptied it into the fryer, then went back down to get a second one. Then I turned the fryer on again.

Shortly afterward, Gloria the grill cook arrived and started coaching me on the prep for my station. I quickly realized that the brunch garde manger station would be better named the "everyone else's bitch" station. My prep list included making clarified butter for all three stations, poaching home fries and french fries for the grill station, making salads and dressing for the egg and grill station, and making potato gallettes, slicing salmon gravlax, picking and chopping herbs and mixing herbed creme fraiche for both the egg station and mine. The only prep that was solely for my station was cutting up fruit for a fruit salad, and carmelizing apples and slicing bread for french toast.

Truthfully the prep was easy compared to dinner. Still, being my first shift on the station, we did hit a few snags. The first and most time-consuming thing I had to do was poach home fries and french fries - about five gallons of french fries, and maybe eight gallons of home fries. Of course, the pilot on the fryer had gone out and the fryer wasn't hot. Gloria helped me to re-light the pilot and tried to explain to me in "Spanglish" that I had to let the pilot burn for about 2 minutes, then turn the fryer on. This I misunderstood as simply turning the temperature gauge up. Duh again. After another twenty minutes of the fryer not heating up, I remembered that I actually had to turn the pilot knob to the "on" position. Oh, did I mention that the restaurant had run out of regular coffee and I was trying to squeeze as much residual caffeine out of the decaf as possible?

So with a little help from Flaca, who was now on the egg station, I got set up in time for service, then stood around a lot. Saturday brunch at the restaurant is pretty slow, and with the garde manger only responsible for four plates, and making sides of fries and salads for the other stations, it was totally do-able. In the meantime I tried to get a little prep done for dinner service. I made a list, then put some large beets on the back burner to simmer, and some baby beets in the oven to roast. I squeezed a quart of lemon juice, and cut some lemon wedges for our oyster plate. At around 1:30 Wil, who was going to be on garde manger with me that evening, arrived and I gave him a copy of our prep list so he could get started downstairs. He only started the week before, but had a few years experience and was quickly getting the routine down.

The plus side of working a double shift actually, is that it makes the mid-day transition much easier. The restaurant doesn't close between brunch and dinner. We served a limited mid-day menu, so at 3:00 the dinner crew has to set up their stations and be ready to serve the mid-day items while the brunch crew is packing up. It's utter chaos. Isn't there a law in physics about two masses being unable to occupy the same space at the same time? Yeah, it's like that. So working a double actually meant that I could start transitioning my station before the end of brunch. By 2:50, I had all my brunch prep packed up, and the station re-arranged for dinner service. Wil brought up all our supplies, set up his workstation, and by 3:30 we were charging forward with dinner prep, and by 6 p.m. we were ready for service. Or so I thought...

On our menu we've always had a salad that featured beets and a roasted tomato tart. With the cold weather, it hasn't really been a big seller. This week we actually had to use a lot leftovers for family meal and discarded what we couldn't use. So I held back a little on our prep, fearing that we might have too much leftover again. Wouldn't you know it? We sold a couple during mid-day, then once service started, it seemed like practically every table that came in had at least one. At around 8:00 I started panicking (internally, hoping that no-one would notice). In just two hours we had sold the number of beet salads we normally sell in an entire evening. I racked my brain to figure out how we could stretch our prep or make more. We were running low on large beets - impossible to cook more since they take at least 2 hours. We were also running low on tarts, but I figured all the components were ready so it would be easy to assemble more if needed. At 8:30 we were down to two tarts so I ran down to the walk-in to get some more roasted tomatoes. Under normal circumstances this would have been an easy fix - less than five minutes to assemble another 6 tarts - but when I got to the walk-in the tray of roasted tomatoes was gone.

It turned out the saute station was running a special featuring chopped roasted tomatoes, which meant there were no more whole roasted tomatoes in the house. And by now we had sold the last two salads. How can I make this happen? I thought. We can't '86' the salad with three more hours of service left to go. So I left the station in Wil's capable hands, and under the supervision of our sous chef, so I could peel and roast more tomatoes. Turns out even if we made more tarts, it wasn't going to happen. In my frugality, I hadn't cooked enough large beets and we only had enough for one more order anyway. Still, we couldn't expect Flaca to start from scratch the next day so I continued to peel a full tray of tomatoes for her to roast in the morning. I felt like my fellow line cooks were looking at me like I was an idiot. My sous chef even half-jokingly gave me a slap on the wrist. It was every cook's worst nightmare, and I was determined never to let it happen to me again, but given the unpredicatability of the biz, it probably will.

So, after sixteen hours on my feet without a break, I finally left the restaurant a little after midnight. I didn't feel particularly tired, although I had started to do my I'm-talking-a-lot-because-I'm-over-tired-but-don't-realize-it routine. But I was starving, and shortly after I arrived home, Boyfriend arrived with a burger and fries for me from the local diner. How did he know? I literally inhaled the burger and wasn't able to finish the fries. Then as usual I planted myself at the desk, and logged onto the laptop to do a little writing. After writing a few lines, I actually woke up to the realization that I had fallen asleep, mid-sentence, mouth agape and head rolled aside on my shoulder. That's when I turned to Boyfriend who was sitting on the couch reading and said, "Hey, do you need to use the computer?" Because I could really use that couch.

Recipe: Ale Braised Beef Stew

2009-02-06T20:37:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately for Boyfriend, my work schedule no-longer affords us the luxury of eating dinner together every evening, let alone making home-cooked meals. He's no whiz in the kitchen, and the options for take-out in our neighborhood are really limited. So a couple times a week, I try to prepare some homemade "TV dinners" for us. The tricky thing of it is, they have to be things that taste just as good, if not better, after sitting in the fridge and being re-heated later.

Stews are obvious winners for heat-and-eat meals. In culinary school we were taught to make Boeuf Bourgignon, Lamb Navarin and Coq au Vin - all essentially braised stews. While their ingredients differ, they are all prepared using similar techniques. I love making stews. It's always a good exercise in layering flavors and textures, and incorporates several essential cooking techniques. At home, one of our favorite stews is this beef stew braised in a nice mellow brown ale.

: Ale Braised Beef Stew

Ingredients, Serves 4-6:

for the braise:

1-1/2 lbs. beef shoulder steak, trimmed and cut into 1" - 1-1/2" pieces

salt & freshly ground pepper

vegetable oil

1 large onion peeled and diced (approx. 10 oz.)

1 4" length carrot, quartered lengthwise (approx. 5 oz.)

1 stalk of celery cut into 4" lengths (approx. 2 oz.)

1 Tbsp. tomato paste

2 Tbsp. all purpose flour

1 12oz. bottle of brown ale, such as Newcastle or Smithwicks

1 generous bunch of fresh thyme

2 - 3 bay leaves

for the vegetable garnish:

2 cups yukon gold potatoes, peeled and diced (approx. 3 medium potatoes)

2 cups carrots, peeled and large diced (approx. 10 oz. or 1-1/2 large carrots)

1 cup celery, large diced (approx. 2 stalks)

Procedure:

Step 1 - Braise the meat

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Generously season the meat with salt and pepper. Heat enough oil in a dutch oven or large saucepan to coat the bottom. It should be hot but not smoking.

: Seasoning meat

2. Working in batches so that you don't crowd the pan, brown the meat on all sides. If you crowd the pan, the meat will steam instead of brown. If you leave too much space the oil and brown bits (known as "sucs") stuck on the bottom of the pan will burn.

: browning meat

3. After removing the last batch of meat from the pan, add a tablespoon of fresh oil, if needed, and cook carrot sticks until they are slightly browned. Lower the heat, then add the onions and celery sticks. Season with a pinch of salt and sweat the vegetables until the onions are soft and not quite translucent.

4. Add the tomato paste and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring to coat the vegetables.

: Vegetable-tomato paste mixture

5. Return the meat to the pan and sprinkle the mixture with flour. Stir everything together and cook for about 2-3 minutes more. This method is referred to as "singer" (pronounced SAN-jay). The flour acts as a thickener, and cooking it before adding the liquid removes any raw flour taste.

: Coating meat and vegetables with flour

6. Add enough of the ale to almost cover the meat and vegetables, scraping up the brown bits ("sucs") from the bottom of the pan. Raise the heat to bring the liquid to a simmer. Simmer on low for about 5 minutes to cook off some of the alcohol.

: deglazing with Smithwicks ale

7. Add the thyme and bay leaf and give the pot a stir just to make sure there is nothing sticking to the bottom of the pan. Cover and put it into the oven for 60-90 minutes, checking periodically to make sure the stew is not boiling to rapidly, but maintaining a bare simmer.

Meanwhile prepare the vegetable garnishes.

Here is where you may say, "What? Don't you just cook the vegetables in the pot with the meat? Why go to all the trouble of cooking the vegetables separately?" Well, here's the thing. I used to use a recipe that said, oh, cook the meat for such and such a time, and add the vegetables during the last half hour of cooking. Well, cooking the vegetables slowly for a half hour means that all their flavor (not to mention their color) gets lost into the liquid and while they may absorb some of the flavor of the meat, in the end all the components of the stew just taste the same. Also, you want to be able to cook your meat until it's melt-in-your-mouth tender. If you add the vegetables too early and the meat is not done, then the vegetables just turn to mush. Personally, I like my vegetables to have a little bite and to preserve some their flavor and color. So I add the large chunks of carrot and celery in the beginning to flavor the braise, then remove them later (the onions just disintegrate into the stew anyway) and add diced carrots, potatoes, and celery that have been cooked separately. This way I can make sure each component is perfectly cooked and seasoned before bringing them together for their final hurrah. By the way, in school they made us cut all our vegetable garnishes into "cocottes" or little football shapes, which I think is wasteful phooey. At home I just cut my veg into bite size pieces, about the same size so they cook evenly.

1. To cook the potatoes, put the diced potatoes in a saucepan and cover with cold salted water. Make sure to use a good amount of salt, and if you wish, you can add some sliced onions and garlic, and a few sprigs of thyme for additional flavor. Bring the water to a rapid boil, them immediately remove from the heat. Let the potatoes sit in the water until they cool to room temperature. As they cool, they should continue to cook, so DO NOT put them on ice. By the time they cool, they should be cooked through.

: blanching potatoes

2. To blanch the carrots and celery, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. And I mean salted - the water should taste like sea-water. Add the carrots, and cook until al dente. For me after the water returned to a boil, it took about 3 minutes. Remove the carrots from the boiling water, and place them immediately in a bowl of ice water to stop them from cooking further. As a general rule, the amount of time it took the carrots to cook, will be the same as the amount of time it will take for them to cool fully in the ice water. Repeat with the celery. The celery took a little longer, probably 5-6 minutes after the water came back to a boil. A blanching basket comes in really handy for this, but I don't have a blanching basket at home, so I use a steamer basket. I simply put the steamer basket in the bottom of the pot, dump the carrots in, and when they were done, I use a pair of tongs to grab the handle of the basket and lift everything out.

: blanching carrots

: a steamer basket doubles as a large "spider"

: carrots, cooling in ice water

: cooked vegetable garnish

Assemble the stew:

1. Once the meat is tender, remove the bundle of herbs, and large chunks of carrot and celery.

2. Transfer the pot to medium heat on the stove top. Check your potatoes. If they are still underdone, drain them and add them to the stew first and simmer until they are cooked through.

3. Add the cooked carrots and celery and adjust the seasoning. If you are saving the stew for later, simply divide it into portion sized containers and refrigerate. If you are serving the stew right away, simmer for about 15 minutes more until the vegetables are hot and have absorbed some of liquid. You will notice that there is not a lot of liquid - just enough to coat all the ingredients and form a puddle at the bottom of the bowl to soak up with a nice crusty piece of sourdough bread.

: simmering vegetables briefly with meat

Home Creamery

2009-01-30T21:58:00.000-08:00

It's been bitterly cold for more than a week now. How cold? Well, let's just say it got warm enough to snow the other day. It's the kind of weather that makes you want to stay indoors, curled up in a sunny room with a good book. It just so happens I've been curled up a lot lately with The Home Creamery, by Kathy Farrell-Kingsley, founder of the Great Cakes Bakery in Westport Connecticut. On my day off, I decided to save the field trip to Westport for a warmer day and stay in for a day of pajama cooking instead.

This is when I spend the whole day in my pajamas (Oh come on, we've all done it right?) doing some slow cooking - the kind that takes all day, but is largely unattended. So that leaves plenty of time for reading, brushing up on my rendition of Highway to Hell for Rockband, or watching the Presidential inauguration - all without getting out of my pajamas

Since I had been dying to try out some of the recipes from The Home Creamery, I thought it would be the perfect way to spend the day. I settled on making Homemade Ricotta cheese and Homemade Butter, since neither of these require any special ingredients such as rennet or citric acid. The book provides two methods for each, so I thought I'd try both.

Well, the day got off to a rocky start. The first recipe I made was ricotta cheese using cultured buttermilk as the curdling agent. I didn't have enough milk to make a full recipe, so I figured I would just make half of the first recipe. It was simple, really: 1 quart of buttermilk to 1 gallon of milk, divided in half. But here's where it gets a little tricky: I was less than halfway through my first cup of coffee of the morning, and still sleepwalking a bit. I thought: 1 pint buttermilk to 2 quarts milk, then filled my quart measuring cup with milk and dumped it in the pot, followed by one pint of buttermilk. Catch that? I completely forgot the second quart of milk. Not realizing my mistake until much later (in one of those a-ha moments just before falling asleep) I followed through with the whole process. This entailed heating the mixture to 180 degrees F, letting the curds form for about 30 minutes, then draining it for 1-2 hours, and seasoning it. What I ended up with was actually a nice crumbly cheese with a texture not unlike crumbled feta, but with a flavor more like queso fresco, with a hint of sourness from the extra buttermilk.

The second batch of ricotta, however, went off without a hitch and turned out beautifully. This recipe used vinegar as the curdling agent. I heated the milk, removed it from the heat, then added the correct amount of vinegar and salt. According to the book this mixture should sit for 2 hours to develop it's curd, but I found it started to curdle almost immediately after adding the vinegar. Nevertheless, I followed Farrell-Kingsley's directions and let the pot sit covered at room temperature for 2 hours while I played a little Rock Band and watched some inaugural events. After the two hours were up, I transferred the whole thing to a cheesecloth lined colander and waited another 2 hours for it to drain (Highway to Hell, on medium baby!!).

: Homemade ricotta

Next I moved onto making butter. The simplest method is just to put cream in a container and shake the hell out of it. So I kept a cup of cream in a pint deli container next to me all day, and gave it a shake every now and then. The more practical of the two methods in the book used a food processor. Churning the cream in the the food processor took only 6 minutes, and voila! Yellow butter solids and buttermilk. Kneading out the remaining liquid took about 10 or 15 minutes. I also kneaded in a little sea salt for flavor. The whole process took less than a half hour. And the cream in the deli container? After a total of 20 minutes of active shaking, it eventually formed yellow granules of butter solids and separated from its liquid. In addition, the cream also had time to ripen and the resulting butter was a little more flavorful and complex than the food processor version.

: Homemade Butter

So at the end of the day I had:
1 pint buttermilk ricotta and 1 pint buttermilk whey
1 quart vinegar ricotta and 3 quarts!! whey
1 cup food processor churned butter and 1 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup hand shaken butter and 1/2 cup buttermilk
Thank goodness Farrell-Kingsley's book also contains recipes for using all that goodness. I actually got a chance to use the buttermilk to make some delicious Buttermilk Banana Muffins.

Related Pages:

Homemade Ricotta	Homemade Butter	Buttermilk Banana Muffins

Recipe: Homemade Butter

2009-01-29T22:12:00.000-08:00

Right after college, I waited tables briefly at a little French bistro in Providence, RI. Each day the pastry cook would whip cream and store it in a plastic tub for use during service. Sometimes it would be inadvertently left overnight or for a couple of days and start to taste like butter. The cream was no longer light and fluffy and you could see the liquid beginning to separate.

Making homemade butter is that easy - you don't even need a recipe, just a method of over-whipping heavy cream until the fat and milk solids form granules and release enough buttermilk. It can be as simple as shaking it in a jar, or whipping it in a food processor or stand mixer. There are a couple steps that follow, but if you use a mixer or food processor, the whole process takes less than a half hour and the results are worth it. You don't get fresher than homemade butter, and you'll taste the difference. Because it's fresh, your butter won't keep as long as commercial butter, so make it in small batches and keep it in the fridge for a few weeks or freeze it for up to 9 months.

Also, as a by product of making your own butter, you will have real buttermilk, which you can save for using in baked goods. This is not the same as cultured buttermilk which is sold commercially. That stuff is actually made from milk to which a culture is added to thicken it, and does not have the same flavor as true buttermilk.

This method, using a food processor, is adapted from Kathy Farrell-Kingsley's The Home Creamery. I use a Kitchen Aid 14-cup food processor. Results and processing times might vary with different machines:

Ingredients & Equipment:

1 pint of heavy cream (yield: approximately 1 cup (1/2 lb.) of butter)

salt (optional)

food processor

a wooden spoon or potato masher

large bowl and/or colander

Basic Procedure:

1. Pour the heavy cream into the bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade and let 'er rip. After about 2 minutes, the cream will start to look like Cool Whip. This is the soft peak stage.

: Soft peak cream

2. After another 2 minutes, the cream will already be over-whipped and start to look a little grainy.

: Cream is slightly overwhipped

3. After another two minutes, butter solids have formed and released a lot of buttermilk. You will end up with about equal parts solids and buttermilk. Total time only 6 minutes!

: Butter solids and buttermilk

4. Drain off the buttermilk and save it for baking. At this stage, The Home Creamery recommends transferring the mass into a colander and kneading out any remaining liquid with a wooden spoon or potato masher, but I found when I did that lots of butter was being lost through the holes too. So I would recommend using a bowl instead and just pouring off the liquid as it's released by kneading.

: kneading the remaining liquid and blending the granules

4. The book doesn't mention it for this method, but after the butter has become uniform and released most of it's buttermilk, you may want to wash it. Simply rinse it under cold water, kneading gently and taking care not to handle it too much as it will melt. This will extend the life of the butter. One antique cookbook even recommends washing as a way of restoring rancid butter.

: Uniformly kneaded butter

4. Now your butter is ready. If you like, knead in some salt. This will also extend its shelf life. I like to use fine sea salt. If you are serving it as a condiment, you could try a salt with larger crystals such as Maldon, or Fleur de Sel instead to add a little texture. Pack it into a crock, or wrap it in wax paper or parchment. It will keep in the fridge for several weeks, and in the freezer for up to 9 months.

: finished butter packed into a ramekin for serving

Other methods and ideas:

Just for fun, I tried just taking a cup of cream and shaking it in a pint container too - a second method given in the book. Of course it took longer, but the granules eventually formed. In this case I rinsed the granules by shaking water in the jar and changing it a couple of times before kneading it and forming it. This is a great activity to keep restless kids occupied for a while because the granules will take about a half hour instead of 6 minutes to form.

My friend Megan at Brooklyn Farmhouse uses a stand mixer, which will not only whip the cream, but knead it for you too. She also uses local grass fed cream, which if you can get it will of course produce a superior butter.

Farrell-Kingsley also recommends using ripened cream to add complexity to your butter. To ripen cream, just set it out at room temperature for 12-24 hours. She notes that it should be "shiny and taste acidic" but not sour. The result will taste similar to European butter which is often described as more "cheesy" tasting.

Try using the buttermilk for baking. I used it to make delicious Buttermilk Banana Muffins.

Recipe: Homemade Ricotta

2009-01-29T22:02:00.000-08:00

At work we get our ricotta cheese from a family-owned producer in Connecticut. It arrives carefully packaged in perforated metal containers specially made to allow excess liquid to drain away from the cheese. The product is fresh, delicious, and creamy, which was made even more apparent the day that our cheese supplier didn't arrive on time. We tracked down something else, in a plastic tub, that was so awful we couldn't serve it. It was grainy and had a distinct aftertaste that I imagined motor oil would taste like. It occurred to me later, that in a pinch, we probably could have made ricotta that was far superior to whatever it was in that plastic tub.

Traditional ricotta cheese is usually made from the whey drained from making sheeps milk cheeses like pecorino, making it a secondary cheese. The word "ricotta" actually means "re-cooked" in Italian. By strict definition, it isn't cheese at all, but curds. Anyway, all you need to make fresh ricotta cheese at home is milk and an acid coagulant to produce the curds. It's very easy and can take as little as a an hour, or as much as four hours, depending on what kind of acid you use and how dry you want your cheese. Whether you use citric acid, vinegar, lemon juice, or cultured milk (buttermilk) to curdle the milk, the process is pretty much the same: heat the milk, add the curdling agent either before or after heating, let the mixture sit to curdle, then drain. The ingredients you choose will of course affect the flavor of your cheese - most of all the milk. As with anything else, using fresh, high quality milk will produce fresh high quality cheese.

The method illustrated in the photographs is adapted from The Home Creamery, by Kathy Farrell-Kingsley. It uses vinegar, which takes longer to form curds, when compared to citric acid or buttermilk. Total time is approximately 3 to 4 hours:

Ingredients:

1 gallon of whole milk

1/3 cup white distilled vinegar

1 tsp. salt, dissolved in the vinegar

Equipment:

Stainless steel saucepan

Strainer or colander

Cheesecloth

Ladle or large spoon

Candy thermometer or instant read thermometer

Procedure:

1. Pour the milk in the saucepan and bring it to 180-190 degrees F, stirring as needed to prevent the milk from scorching. Once it reaches temperature, remove it from the heat, add the vinegar and salt and stir gently, just enough to incorporate. Curds should start to form almost immediately and will signal you to stop stirring. Incidentally, it is important that you use a non-reactive pan that is immaculate because any "seasoning" you have on the pan may be stripped away into your cheese.

: Curds beginning to form

2. Cover the pot and set aside for up to 2 hours for the curds to form.

: Fully formed curds after 2 hours

3. After about 2 hours the curds should form a pretty solid mass of curds floating in the whey. Gently scoop the curds and whey into a strainer or colander lined with damp cheesecloth. Let the mixture drain for as little as 15 minutes or up to 2 hours, depending on how dry you want your cheese.

: Curds, draining

4. After the cheese has drained and is the consistency you want, you may choose add some cream to make it richer, and/or salt, to taste. If you won't be using it right away or store your cheese an airtight container for up to a week. You can also save the whey and use it in yeast breads instead of water. Farrell-Kingsley says the yield on this recipe is approximately 1-1/2 cups, but when I made it I got almost a quart.

: Finished ricotta

Other Methods and Ideas:

For even richer and creamier ricotta, try using 1 part heavy cream to 3 parts milk. I found that partially substituting cream also resulted in a significantly higher yield.

Citric acid is available through cheese-making supply houses. For 1 gallon of milk, you can substitute 1 teaspoon of citric acid for the vinegar. Add the citric acid and salt to the milk before heating, and heat the whole mixture, stirring only as needed to keep it from scorching. Remove from the heat and let the mixture sit undisturbed for about 10 minutes. Drain to your desired consistency.

Cultured buttermilk can also be used to form the curds. To one gallon of milk, add 1 quart of buttermilk. As when using citric acid, heat the whole mixture. Then remove from the heat and let it sit undisturbed for 30 minutes. Drain to your desired consistency.

You can also use lemon juice instead. A good recipe can be found at Brooklyn Farmhouse.

Try using your homemade ricotta to make a Vegetable Torte.

Recipe: Buttermilk Banana Muffins

2009-01-27T22:15:00.000-08:00

Real buttermilk, a great by-product of making Homemade Butter makes all the difference in this recipe. When I first started making muffins, I had to go to several cookbooks to find a good base recipe for muffins, and finally found one in the America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook. After making butter this week, I had just enough buttermilk to substitute for the yogurt I usually use, and just enough bananas in my freezer to make a batch of muffins. What a difference it made. The buttermilk gave the muffins a really nice even crumb, and they were even lighter than usual. My boyfriend actually begged me to take some to work so he wouldn't be tempted to eat them all.

If you don't have real buttermilk, you can substitute cultured buttermilk, yogurt or milk. If you use milk, stir in 1 Tbsp. of lemon juice and let it sit for 10 minutes until it starts to thicken. For best results use whole products, not lowfat or non-fat.

Ingredients, yields 12 large muffins:

3 c. all purpose flour

1 c. sugar

1 Tbsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. plus a pinch of baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. grated nutmeg

1-1/2 c. buttermilk

2 large eggs

8 Tbsp. butter, melted and cooled

1 c. mashed bananas

1/4c. chopped pecans (optional)

cooking spray or additional butter for the pan

Procedure:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Prepare a large muffin pan by spraying with cooking spray or greasing with butter.
In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and nutmeg. Whisk until well combined.
In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the buttermilk and eggs.
Form a well in the center of the flour mixture, pour in the buttermilk mixture and fold until most of the dry ingredients are absorbed. Do not overmix.
Gently fold in the melted butter, then the bananas.
Using a large ice cream scoop, divide the batter evenly in the muffin pan. I like to press a few chopped pecans into the top of each muffin to add a little toasty crunch. Bake 25-30 minutes until golden brown. Cool 5 minutes, then remove the muffins from the pan and cool on a wire rack.

Related Pages:

Homemade Butter	Pajama Cooking

Kitchen Tip: Butchering Chicken

2009-01-26T22:21:00.000-08:00

The benefit to buying whole chickens is that every part is useful. Once you remove the meat, the bones can be used to make Chicken Stock and you can save the gizzards and organs for enriching sauces and gravies.

First, remove the wishbone:

Scrape at the shoulder to expose the wishbone.

Once exposed, cut through the cartilage to loosen the prongs.

Use your fingers to loosen the wishbone from the breast meat. Feel your way to the top where it connects to the breastbone, then grab the top of the wishbone and give it a twist, then pull so it detaches. Removing the wishbone makes it easier to remove the breast meat later.

Next, if you wish, remove the wings by cutting through the first joint:

To remove the legs:

Mark the back by making a vertical cut down the center and a horizontal cut in line with the chicken's "elbows"

Make a cut between the breast and the leg, trying to preserve as much of the skin on the breast as possible.

Make another horizontal cut connecting from the top of the thigh to the "X" you made in the back. Then carefully use the tip of your knife and release the part of the thigh known as the "oyster" that sits in the hollow of the back.

Pull the leg back to dislocate the joint at the hip. Cut through the cartilage to release the thighbone. Once the thighbone is released, you should be able to just tear the leg off the body.

Repeat with the other leg.

To leave the breasts on the bone:

If you want to leave the breast whole, and on the bone, you can simply remove the back by cutting through the ribs with a pair of kitchen shears.

Then turn the breast over, and from the inside make a slight cut through the film of cartilage that encloses the breastbone.

Scrape away the cartilage to expose the breastbone then grab it with your fingers and pull it out gently while using your other hand to hold the breast down on the counter.

Work your way down releasing the breastbone and hard cartilage from the breast meat. You may leave the breast whole, or simply cut down the center to separate the two breasts.

For boneless chicken breasts:

If you want to remove the breast fillets it is easier to do with the torso of the chicken intact, without removing the back. Simply estimate where the center of the breast is and make an incision straight down the center.

You should end up on one side of the breastbone. Remove the breast fillet by gently pulling the meat away from the bone and using your knife to separate it. Keeping your knife in contact with the bone as you cut will help prevent cutting through the breast and leaving too much meat on the bone.

Repeat on the other side.

To cook the legs whole:

If you want to cook the legs whole, exposing the thighbone will help them to cook faster and more evenly.
There is line of fat that marks the exact place to cut.

"Marking" the leg, by cutting through the skin and ligaments at the ankle will release the meat to contract upward when cooked, making it easier to remove.

For separate thighs and drumsticks:

There is a line of fat that marks the joint between the thigh and the drumstick as well. To separate them, simply cut through this line to expose the joint.

Then cut through the joint.

For boneless thighs, expose the thighbone but cutting along the line of fat that marks it's location.

Then using the tip of the knife, cut under the bone and release it from the meat.

Save your bones!

Use the carcass, wings, and other bones for stock. You may want to cut the carcass into smaller pieces. If you are not using them right away, put them in a freezer bag and throw them in the freezer for up to 3 months.

Classic Chicken Stock

Kitchen Tip: Tea Ball Bouquet Garni

2009-01-15T22:03:00.000-08:00

I am always making bouquets garnis (that's French for sachet of herbs and spices) for stocks, soups, and sauces. If I know I'll be straining the end product, like a stock, I will usually just throw everything in the pot. If it's just herbs, I just tie them together with twine. But sometimes I don't want everything floating in there willy nilly, like in the case of sauces or stews. Instead of cheesecloth or leek greens, I use fine meshed tea ball. The small 1-1/2" diameter ones are fine for smaller recipes, but I also keep a larger 3" diameter one for stockpot recipes. I just pack my herbs, peppercorns, etc, in there and hang it on the rim of the pot so I can easily fish it out later. It works great and is reusable too. So save your cheesecloth for cheesemaking.

Classic Bouquet Garni:

small bunch of fresh thyme

2-3 bay leaves

1 Tbsp. whole black peppercorns

Kitchen Tip: Peeling Fresh Tomatoes

2009-01-14T22:59:00.000-08:00

To peel fresh tomatoes for use in sauces, soups etc.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.
Fill another large pot or bowl with ice water.
Cut out the stem, and cut an "X" in the bottom of each tomato.
Place the tomatoes in the boiling water for a few seconds, then plunge them into the ice water.
Remove the tomatoes from the water. Using a paring knife, peel the skins. It is usually easier to start from the "X" on the bottom of each tomato. If the skins do not peel easiliy, repeat step 4.
Seed and cut each tomato as needed for your recipe.

Try this technique with these recipes:
Sausage and Pepper Ragout

Oh, for the Love of Pig!

2009-01-14T22:18:00.001-08:00

So we have a new sous chef at work. He saw a video on You Tube of Chris Consentino making Porchetta di Testa, and wanted to try it at the restaurant. What is porchetta di testa? Well it is basically a pig's head that is boned out, marinated, then rolled up, tied, and wrapped, then slow braised for 14 hours. How psyched was I when my sous chef ordered two heads and offered to let me make one?!

DAY 1 - Deboning the head, face to face

I arrived at work early for Day 1 of Project Porchetta. My sous chef demonstrated on one pig's head while I looked on and snapped some photos. As he turned the head upside down to get at its chin, some blood spilled out of the snout. There was no avoiding the reality of the animal. Here I was, staring at its bloody nose, and tongue hanging out the side of its mouth. The heads that we received from our meat purveyor had some of the flesh around the eyes already cut away, but the eyes were still there. Some say they can't eat an animal that is staring at them (like whole fish, head on), but really, there was no life left in the eyes of this pig. It wasn't staring at anything. I was transfixed, and my sous chef admitted to being a little surprised at how un-squeamish I was about the process. He cut his way from the chin to the snout on the underside of the head, exposing the jowls and teeth, then turned the head around and released the skin and flesh from the crown down the top of the snout. In about 15-20 minutes, the skull was separated from the face, and the tongue from the skull. Until then, I had no idea what a pig's skull looked like. What came off of it, aside from the fleshy underside of course, looked just like a halloween pig mask. Dares to wear it ensued among the prep crew.

Then it was my turn. The first thing I noticed was the weight of the pig's head. It was easily 20 pounds (by feel, it seemed heavier than my cat, but lighter than my dog). Using a disposable gillette razor, I shaved remnants of bristle from its brow, cheek, and chin and cleaned debris and wax out of the ears. A brief once-over with a torch removed any stubble left behind by the razor. Then, as my sous chef had done, I turned the head over (another bloody nose) and started cutting at the chin. Pulling at the flesh, I used the tip of my knife to slowly separate it from the jawbone. My goal was to leave the skull as clean as possible, leaving most of the meat attached to the skin. I was thankful to have the other pig's skull next to me so I could see what I was looking for underneath everything. My sous chef left me to my work, remarking to the prep cooks that I was "mucha macho," as our house butcher looked on approvingly. I guess they weren't used to seeing a woman so enthusiastic about butchering hog. Anyway, there were several different muscles and a lot of connective tissue under the jaw, making it extra tricky to figure out where to cut. Cutting away the top of the head was a little easier. There wasn't a lot of flesh there except for the cheeks, so I had to take it slow not to cut through the skin. The last step of taking the mask off the snout was definitely a two-person job. I tried to do it myself, but the pig mask was cumbersome - just flapping around - and there was no way to rest the skull steadily. One person needed to pull on the skull while the other pulled on the mask and cut away at the cartilage of the snout. After separating the mask from the skull, I pulled open the jawbone to get at the tongue, then pulled the tongue down through the jaw and separated it from the skull a its base.

We generously seasoned both masks inside and out, and the tongues with salt, pepper, and herbs and wrapped them tightly in plastic. Then they were placed in the refrigerator to cure/marinate. We marinated the first one for only one day, mine for two days.

DAY 3 - Tie and Braise

After two days of curing, I unwrapped my pig's head and removed all the herbs. Unlike what was shown in Chris Consentino's video, we had left the ears on on the pig face. So before rolling the mask, we tucked the tips of its ears into the eye holes. We put the tongue inside the snout, and rolled the whole thing up, tucking in the ends.

We tied up the package, wrapped it in several layers of plastic wrap, then in aluminum foil. Finally we tied up the wrapped package and braised it overnight for 14 hours in a large pot of water on an induction cooktop set at 180-190 degrees. We learned, from having braised the first pig head the night before, that even if I filled the pot to the brim at closing, by the time my sous chef arrived the next morning, so much of the water would have evaporated that the porchetta would be only half covered. So this time we had to make sure that the night crew that came in to clean would periodically check in and refill the pot if needed.

DAY 4 - Cool and Set

Although I was happy about having a day off from work, I was disappointed that I wouldn't be there to see this step through with the pig's head I had started. However I had seen the the porchetta that my sous chef braised the day before hanging in the walk-in. After braising, he removed the porchetta from the liquid, cooled it down, still wrapped to let the gelatin set back up. In my absence, he would also take care of this step for the second one.

DAY 6 - Slice and Serve

Ah, the day of reckoning. It has been almost a week since I started out face to face with the pig's head (more, if you count the time it took to defrost it). On day three, while we were rolling the porchetta that I had deboned, my sous chef remarked "this is your baby too." He had, inadvertently or not, stumbled onto a very fitting metaphor. In a way, it was my baby (wait, does that make him my Lamaze partner?) Here was this humble pig's head, a part of the animal most Americans don't ever want to associate with ham and cheese sandwiches or juicy pork chops. I lovingly and with much care, deboned it, seasoned it, and rolled it. I made sure that there was someone to babysit the entire 14 hours it braised, then I entrusted someone else to take it out, cool it and hang it. In many ways the past 6 days have been like a gestation period. I had no idea what to expect. Did I wrap it tightly enough? Would the fat and gelatin set? Would there be to many air pockets? I was giddy with anticipation, when today, we finally unwrapped that baby, sliced it and tasted it. Was it good? Hmm-hmm, come to mama...

Kitchen Tip: Getting Flaky with "Fraisage"

2009-01-13T17:59:00.000-08:00

The key to getting a flaky pie crust without the addition of shortening or any chemical cheats is a french technique known as fraisage. By using the heel of your hand to smear the dough little by little across a floured board, you bring the dough together in a way that creates long alternating layers of butter and dough...

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Kitchen Tip: Get Flaky with Fraisage

2009-01-13T17:57:00.000-08:00

The key to getting a flaky pie crust without the addition of shortening or any chemical cheats is a french technique known as fraisage. It is used to blend the dough after all the ingredients have been cut together. Traditionally, it is performed by using the heel of your hand to smear the dough little by little across a floured board. Blending the dough together in this way that creates long alternating strands of butter and dough. As the crust bakes, any moisture turns to steam and expands to form pockets between the layers.

Using fraisage also makes a good crust for free-form tarts where leaking might be a concern. Because you are creating alternating layers of butter and dough, you are less likely to get a clump of butter that will melt during baking and form a hole in your crust as it bakes.

: fraisage by hand

Instead of using your hand, you can use a dough scraper, or transfer the dough to a bowl and use a rubber spatula against the sides of the bowl. The important things to be aware of are not to overwork the dough or let the butter get too warm and melt. Just work quickly and gather up the layers of dough into a disc (or two for a double pie crust) and wrap them in plastic. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before rolling.

: fraisage with dough scraper

: fraisage in bowl with spatula

: dough after fraisage

Try it! Use fraisage to make these recipes:
All Butter Pie Crust
Reveillon Tourtiere
Torta Salata (Vegetable Torte)

Starting From Scratch: Classic Chicken Stock

2009-01-12T23:02:00.000-08:00

Especially in the winter, one of the things I like to keep on hand is Chicken Stock. When made properly, it has a delicate flavor that is not only a great base for soups, but adds flavor to rice or risotto, and is delicious for poaching vegetables too. By using quality ingredients, the chicken stock you make will be far superior than store bought, and won't contain tons of sodium. If you buy whole chickens and butcher them yourself, you will get even more bang for your buck.

A common misconception is that you simply dump chicken scraps and vegetable scraps into a pot, fill it with water, and boil the hell out of it. The tendency is also to put in way too much water and too many vegetables. The result is usually a cloudy vegetable stock with little chicken flavor instead of a clear, flavorful chicken stock.

The key to flavorful chicken stock is in the proportion of chicken bones to vegetables, or aromatics. The aromatics should comprise only 15-20% of total weight of bones. That's a 5:1 ratio of bones to vegetables, maximum. The French use a combination of onions, carrots, and celery, known as mirepoix, sometimes with the addition of some leek whites. In Chinese and Asian cooking, the aromatics are often comprised of ginger, garlic, and scallions. Whatever you use, keep your aromatics simple. Don't use vegetables that will break down and cloud your stock, such as potatoes. Also stay away from aggressive flavors such as asparagus, cabbage, etc. and dark green vegetables that will leach out and discolor the stock.

Other keys to remember:

Use only enough water as needed. Use a tall stockpot to minimize evaporation, and add only enough water to cover the bones by about 1 to 2 inches. If the liquid gets low, you can replenish by adding a little hot water to just keep the bones covered. Never cover the stockpot.

Skim, skim, skim. As the stock simmers, the bones will release impurities and fat that rise to the top, which you must remove. As the fat comes in contact with the air, it will congeal slightly, making it easier to skim. Most of the crud will be released in the first hour and should be removed before you add your aromatics. Then a periodic check for fat and foam should suffice.

Let that baby simmer. Whatever you do, don't stir things up and don't let your stock boil. Both of these will cause it to be cloudy.

Ingredients, makes approximately 3 quarts:

3 lbs. chicken bones, rinsed in cold water

1 small yellow or white onion, approximately 5 oz.

1 medium carrot, approximately 4 oz.

1 stalk of celery, approximately 1 oz.

2-3 bay leaves

1 bunch of fresh thyme

1 Tbsp. whole black peppercorns

a few parsley stems, if available.

Procedure:

1. Place the chicken bones in a tall 8 quart stock pot. Cover with about 1 to 2 inches of cold water and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for one hour, periodically skimming any foam and fat that rises to the top.

: Use just enough water to cover the bones

: Foam and fat rising to the top

2. Meanwhile prepare the remaining ingredients. Peel and chop the onions and carrots into 1" - 1-1/2" chunks. Cut the celery the same size.

3. After the first hour, the bones will have released most of their impurities. At this point, add the rest of the ingredients and simmer for another 2-1/2 to 3 hours. Fat, and some remaining impurities will continue to rise to the top of the liquid, and should be skimmed from time to time. It is helpful to keep hot water on hand to replenish the liquid as needed to keep the bones submerged.

: Stock after simmering for 1 hour is clearer and ready for aromatics

4. After 2-1/2 to 3 hours of simmering and skimming, the stock should be ready. You will notice that it has become quite clear, and you should be able to see the ingredients that have settled to the bottom through the liquid. Taste your stock. It should be flavorful, and taste of chicken, not vegetables.

5. Strain your stock through a fine mesh sieve or a colander lined with cheesecloth. Discard the vegetables. The bones can be saved and used a second time to make a Remouillage*.

: Finished stock, cooling

6. If you are not using it right away, it is important that you cool your stock quickly so that you can get it into the refrigerator or freezer. I usually divide the stock into quart size containers and sit them in a baking dish or roasting pan filled with ice water. When they have cooled to room temperature, cover and label the containers and refrigerate or freeze. If you will be freezing your stock, make sure to allow an inch of airspace in your container for expansion.

*Remouillage - This refers to both the process and the secondary stock obtained by simmering stock bones a second time, in order to extract the remaining gelatin. The remouillage will not have the flavor of a primary stock, but can be used as a base for new stock, or reduced to concentrate the gelatin, and used to add body to soups or sauces.

Butchering Chicken

Have Knives, Will Cook

Eggs Benedict with Rosemary Pork Loin, Orange Hollandaise and Wild Arugula Salad

The Difference is in the Brine

Pulled Pork that Practically Cooks Itself

My Almost Biscotti Disaster

All Aboard the Sous Vide Bandwagon

Easy Pickled Jalapenos

Steak and Kidney Pie, or the Dinner that Wasn't

Home Cured Bacon makes the Best BLTs

A Big Bowl of Red - Grassfed Steak Chili

Grassfed Steak Chili

The Hulk has Left the Building

BBQ Chicken Wings, Braised Greens & Cole Slaw

Maple Glazed Cornbread, a Delicious Meeting of North & South

The Importance of Being...Inspired

Chicken Soup with Fresh Spaeztle

Linguine with Chorizo & Clams

Carbon Steel Fry Pans, Oh Yes I Do!

Char Siu & Chinese Broccoli with Budding Chives

Lazy Holiday

Lemon Cucumber & Tomato Salad

Call Me Cookie

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

Watching the Garden Grow

Zen and the Art of Staff Meal

Kitchen Tip: Greenest Fava Beans Ever

April Showers

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

Braised Pork Belly Tacos

Quick Pickled Onions

Tomatillo Salsa (Mexican Salsa Verde)

Learning to Love Queens: Flushing, NY

Pies Please

Recipe: All Butter Pie Crust

Recipe: Torta Salata (Vegetable Torte)

Recipe: Cardamom Pumpkin Tart

T minus 16 Hours and Counting...

Recipe: Ale Braised Beef Stew

Home Creamery

Recipe: Homemade Butter

Recipe: Homemade Ricotta

Recipe: Buttermilk Banana Muffins

Kitchen Tip: Butchering Chicken

Related Pages:

Kitchen Tip: Tea Ball Bouquet Garni

Kitchen Tip: Peeling Fresh Tomatoes

Oh, for the Love of Pig!

Kitchen Tip: Getting Flaky with "Fraisage"

Kitchen Tip: Get Flaky with Fraisage

Starting From Scratch: Classic Chicken Stock