BBQ Chicken Wings, Braised Greens & Cole Slaw

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

Have a bite of this with your morning coffee!

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

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

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.