She could have strangled her husband right then and there. What was he thinking? It was going to be only their second Thanksgiving together and she was looking forward to another quiet holiday, just the two of them, like she wanted. One phone call from his mother and she could kiss that thought goodbye.
He just had to brag to his boss about her cooking. Just her luck her husband’s boss was married to the co-chair of the Daughters of Utah Pioneers and co-author of a localized pioneer cookbook, and lived next door to the sister of a lady whose daughter went to beauty school with the girl who did the hair of the lady whose niece-in-law’s kids went to school with kids of the lady who lived next door to her husband’s mother. Yeah, so word on the LDS network traveled faster than a viral Tweet and now she was going to have her husband’s entire family over for Thanksgiving dinner. All fifteen of them.
Granted her husband’s bragging was justified. Cooking was not the problem. Her own mother had done well in teaching her that food could be for more than just nourishment. She remembered vividly every meal she ate as a child and the anticipation and excitement of wondering what her mother was going to present on the dinner table that night. Every night was a culinary adventure. The anticipation of every holiday season was focused more on the food than the presents. When she married, her husband told her he wanted her to continue with her mother’s tradition.
The problem was she had never cooked for such a large group before. It had always been either just her, or her and her husband, and he was easy to please. After all, his mother wasn’t exactly Julia Child. She once watched in near vomit-inducing horror as her mother-in-law put ketchup on a well done-of-a-hockey puck steak. It was all she could do to break her husband of that habit and try to get him to experience something else, even if it was simply steak sauce. She was thinking she might have to lock all the ketchup in the house in a safe-box and bury it 10 feet under. Then she realized, with a sigh of relief, that she had been successful in completely eradicating the foul condiment from her kitchen. Besides, she didn’t have time for any digging.
So what to do? She had never done a whole turkey before and the idea began to overwhelm her. It had always been just a small turkey breast for her and her husband and now she was facing the daunting task of cooking a 25 pound turkey and a ten pound ham, which, she was told, her father-in-law would be bringing over the week before.
Deep down she wondered if she wasn’t more worried about ruining her brand new oven in their new house, which she hadn’t even had time to properly christen yet. They had only moved into the house in August, just two months after her husband had graduated from college and had started his new job as an Industrial Designer for Lockheed Martin.
Her husband reassured her that it was easier than she thought. She shot him a look that said, “Who’s cooking this stupid bird? Me or you?” But, with confidence in his wife’s cooking and his own ability to Google, he handed her some information he felt she could use.
With trepidation festering on the brink of pure loathing and the looming possibility of not speaking to her husband until maybe Christmas, if he was lucky, she looked over what he had printed out for her.
“So how does one go about choosing the perfect bird for Thanksgiving? There are a few simple tips to follow. For starters, bigger is better. According to Epicurious.com, figure about one pound per person, or more if you love having turkey sandwiches everyday for the month between then and your next turkey at Christmas (Why do we do that to ourselves?!). Hens are usually about 15 pounds or less. The big ones are the toms and they can be up to 25 pounds. Here is a time table for roasting un-stuffed, completely thawed turkeys at 350°. The times are approximate.
Guests Size of Turkey Time
8 people 12-14 lbs. 2 1/2 - 3 hours
10 people 15-16 lbs. 3 1/2 hours
12 people 18-20 lbs. 4 hours
14 people 21-22 lbs. 4 1/2 hours
16 people 24 lbs. 4 3/4 hours
So, what exactly are you getting when buying a turkey? It’s always a good idea to read the label.
It’s an even better idea to know what the label is telling you. Be sure to read the label carefully. If the label says “Fresh”, it doesn’t necessarily mean “fresh”. It just means that the turkey has been held at no less than 26° F. Frozen, of course, means 0° F and below and are favorites for graveyard shift stockboys on the PTBA - Pro Turkey-Bowlers Association. A turkey labeled “natural” means just that - no artificial anything; flavorings, colorings, moisturizing agents or otherwise. Be careful with turkeys labeled “self-basting”. They may not be “natural”. Free-range means the turkey had full access to the farmer’s front yard. Organic turkeys are the same as free-range turkeys only without the possibility of steroids, artificial growth hormones or antibiotics.
Fresh turkey is always best. If you do get a frozen turkey, get it far enough in advance for it to be able to thaw out in the refrigerator, preferably on the bottom shelf in the back. Give it about five days or so to thaw. If you don¢t have the time, let the turkey sit, fully submerged under water in your sink or bucket, changing the water every so often to keep bacteria from festering. Figure about 10 minutes per pound to thaw.
It’s best to use a quick-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the thigh, instead of relying on that little pop-up thingy. Totally unreliable.”
Suddenly there was hope. Thoughts began to swirl around her brain of Thanksgivings past. Once tied down by her unfounded limited abilities, the possibilities were … limitless. With forgiving kiss on her husband’s cheek, she set to work, checking cookbooks her mother had given her and talking to her mother long distance almost constantly. By the end of the next day she had a menu -
Honey-brined Roasted Turkey
Pan Gravy
Virginia Cured Ham
Honey Dijon Sauce
Wild Rice and Sausage Dressing
Fresh Green Beans with Pumpkin Squash and Pecans
Mashed Sweet Potatoes with Pears
Roasted Parsnips, Baby Carrots and Red Potatoes in Watercress Butter
Wild Field Greens with Pumpkin Squash and Maple Cider Vinaigrette
Nantucket Cranberry Sauce
Festive Holiday Punch
Cranberry Apple Pie
Apple Butter Pumpkin Pie
New York Pumpkin Cheesecake
Buttermilk Maple Sorbet
Yankee Oatmeal Molasses Buns
Assortment of Sweet Gherkins, Baby Dill Pickles, Black and Green Olives, Pickled Whole Baby Beets
Her husband looked over the list. He began to think maybe he had created a culinary monster. Where were the candied yams with the marshmallows? Where were the plain mashed potatoes? Why did the stuffing have sausage in it and why was it called dressing? And no vanilla ice cream? What was his mother going to think? It was beginning to seem a rather dubious plan.
She told her husband she didn’t care what his mother was going to think. Either two things were going to happen - either his mother was going to hate it and she would never have to do this again, or his mother was going to love it and, heaven forbid, she was going to have to do it again next year…and the next, and the next and the next. At least until his mother died. It was his fault for bragging about her cooking skills in the first place. Like it or not, this was going to be the menu for the fateful day.
So off she set to put her plan into motion. The turkey and ham arrived with great fanfare. She thought maybe their presence would spark anxiety, but she remained surprisingly calm. yet almost excited. She got on the phone with her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law and gave out the assignments.
“No cooking,” she told them. Just buy the things on the list I gave you and get them to me tomorrow at the latest. The sooner the better.”
Everything was choreographed to precision. Things were made ahead of time and chilled. Others were prepped and organized so they could be thrown together on Thursday. An oven schedule was written and posted on the fridge. She put her husband in charge of organizing the men to set the tables.
They had borrowed a long table from the church and were planning to move furniture to accommodate it. She assured her husband that they could do it during commercials so they wouldn’t miss the Lions annual Thanksgiving Day loss, although privately she knew he cared more about the dog show after the Macy’s parade than the football game.
All was done. The day was here. The guests had arrived.
Her mother-in-law looked at the food with suspicion, but eventually she politely, for her son's sake, took a bite of the dressing, and then the parsnips, the salad, the mashed sweet potatoes and so on and so on until she had tried the last dessert. There was no sign of discord from her mother-in-law. Could this mean success? Could this mean she would be tormented every November for the rest of her life?
At the end of the day, she offered some left-overs to her mother-in-law, but her mother-in-law gently refused. “I liked it, dear. It was delicious…but, I think next year we’ll do it at my house.”
A win-win for everyone, she thought.
Honey-brined Roasted Turkey
1 19-20 pound turnkey, cleaned
4 quarts water
4 quarts cider vinegar
2 cups kosher salt
4 cups honey
6 cloves garlic, peeled and slightly smashed
2 tablespoons whole black pepper
1 sprig fresh rosemary
olive oil
Place a large new garbage bag (at least 10 gallons) in a large stock pot. Mix the liquids and spices, except the olive oil, together in the bag until salt and honey dissolve. Place the washed turkey, without the gizzards, in the bag, making sure the turkey is completely covered by the brine. Seal up the bag and refrigerate for at least 12 hours.18-24 hours is preferred.
Remove the turkey and let drain on a rack. Discard the brine. Rub a little olive oil (about 1 tablespoon per each side) on the breasts under the skin. Truss the turkey. Place the turkey, breast down, on a rack in a roasting pan and tent loosely with foil. Roast at 350°, basting every 30 minutes after the first hour, until the internal temperature in the thigh reaches about 175°-180°, about 5-6 hours.
Pan Gravy
Turkey gizzards and neck bone
2 tablespoons minced garlic
½ medium or 1 small white onion, chopped
2 quarts chicken broth
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
1 cup flour
¼ cup butter
This recipe can’t be made if you use a disposable foil roasting pan. Remove the turkey to a large platter and tent with foil to keep it warm. Place the roasting pan on the stove top. Add the neck bone and gizzards to the drippings and cook until brown. Add the onion and garlic and cook until the onions are soft and aromatic. Pour in the chicken stock (unless you want to save last years turkey carcass to make a turkey stock…which is a whole different story) and rosemary, scraping any residue off the bottom of the pan. Bring to a boil and let simmer for 10-15 minutes. Strain into a stock pot. Place some of the broth in a large bowl and add the flour and whisk well, making sure there are no balls of flour. Add this to the broth and let simmer until thick. Whisk in the butter at the last minute.
Virginia Cured Ham
1 10 pound ham
whole cloves
6 cups hot water
1 cup cider vinegar
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
2 bay leaves
1 cup molasses
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Preheat oven to 325°. If the ham still has it¢s skin, carefully remove the skin without removing as much fat as possible. Rinse off the ham and gently pat it dry. Score the fat crosswise in the shape of diamonds. Place one whole clove in each diamond. Place the ham in a large roasting pan with a cover or tent with foil.
Combine the water, cider vinegar, Worcestershire sauce and bay leaves and pour over the ham. Bake for 3 1/2 hours or until the internal temperature reaches 160°. Be careful not to let your meat thermometer touch the bone. After the first hour, baste every 30 minutes with the molasses mixed with the Dijon.
Honey Dijon Sauce
2 cup sour cream
¼ cup Dijon mustard
½ cup honey
Mix all the ingredients together. Chill
Wild Rice Sausage Corn Dressing
2 cups wild rice
1/2 pound ground Italian sausage
3 medium leeks, sliced, white parts only
4 ears of corn, shucked and cut
1 tablespoon thyme
1 teaspoon salt
pepper to taste
1 12 ounce can chicken broth
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
6 cups bread, cubed and dried
Bring salted water to a boil. Cook the wild rice in the boiling water for 15 minutes on medium heat. Drain and set aside.
Cook the Italian sausage about halfway on medium heat. Add the leeks and saute until tender and sausage is done. Add the cut corn and thyme and saute for another two minutes or so. Add the chicken broth and bring just to a simmer. Add the parsley, bread cubes and cooked wild rice, mixing well. Simmer covered on medium low heat for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Fresh Green Beans with Pumpkin Squash and Pecans
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small (4 lbs) pumpkin, skinned and cubed
1 pound fresh green beans, trimmed and halved
2 teaspoons ground rosemary
2 teaspoons basil
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped fine
1 cup chopped pecans
1/4 cup chicken broth
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
In a large heavy skillet, or wok, melt the butter together with the olive oil. Saute the cubed pumpkin on medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the pumpkin starts to brown and caramelize a little. Add the green beans and herbs. Saute for about 10 minutes. Add the broth and simmer, covered, for about 10 minutes or until the green beans are tender yet firm. Add the butter and salt and pepper and stir until the butter just melts.
Mashed Sweet Potatoes with Pears
5 pounds sweet potatoes
6 tablespoons butter or margarine
4 large Bartlett pears, peeled and diced medium
1 cup pear nectar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cardamom
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
You can either bake the sweet potatoes at 400° for one hour or you can peel and slice them and then steam them (not boil!!) until soft and very tender. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a saute pan. Add the pears and saute until they begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the nectar and bring to a simmer, covered, reducing the heat to medium low stirring often, about 4-5 minutes. Let the pear mixture cool a little and then puree 3/4 the mixture.
Place the prepared sweet potatoes in a large mixing bowl. Add the remaining butter and beat on medium speed until creamy. Add in the pear mixture, brown sugar and spices and mix well.
Roasted Parsnips, Baby Carrots, Red Potatoes in Watercress Butter
1 pound parsnips, peeled, cored and cut into ½ inch cubes
½ pound baby carrots, cut in half
1 pound red potatoes, washed and cut into ½ inch cubes
¼ cup butter
One bunch watercress, chopped fine
Dash salt and pepper
In a large oven-safe pot, melt the butter. Add the parsnips, carrots and potatoes and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from the heat, add watercress, salt and pepper and cover. Put the pot in a preheated oven at 350° and bake for 25-30 minutes. Transfer toa serving dish.
Wild Field Greens with Pumpkin Squash and Maple Cider Vinaigrette
Vinaigrette:
1/4 cup pure maple syrup (or 1/4 cup imitation plus 1 teaspoon maple extract)
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup olive oil
Mix the ingredients, except the oil, together in a blender. Slowly drizzle the oil into the mixture in the blender while blending on medium high.
Salad:
Mixed greens
1 small (2-3 pounds) pumpkin (or acorn or butternut squash)
3 fresh corn, shucked and shelled
1 pint red tear-drop tomatoes (or small cherry tomatoes), halved
1 bunch small green onions, chopped
Cut the pumpkin in half. Clean out the seeds and cut into wedges. Bring water in a steamer to a boil and steam the pumpkin wedges until tender but still firm, about 5 minutes. Chill in an ice water bath immediately. Drain well. Peel the skin off the wedges and cut the pumpkin into cubes. Mix all of the ingredients together with the greens. At time of service, add the vinaigrette and toss well.
Nantucket Cranberry Sauce
3-4 oranges, squeezed (about 1 cup)
1 cup apple cider
1 tablespoon orange zest
1/4 cup pure maple syrup
1/4 cup molasses
2 packets of Knox Gelatin
1 pound fresh or frozen cranberries
Bring the cider to a simmer and dissolve the gelatin in the cider. Remove from heat. Grind up the cranberries, a little at a time, in the blender with the orange juice. Combine everything in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes. Pour the mixture into a glass or plastic container and chill, covered.
Festive Holiday Punch
8 cups apple cider
8 cups cranberry juice
4 cinnamon sticks
2 red apples, cored, sliced
2 cups cranberries, crushed
3 liters lemon lime soda
ice
Mix apple and cranberry juices and cinnamon, chill for 24 hours. Fifteen minutes before serving, place apples and crushed cranberries in a punch bowl and add the juices and soda. Add Ice if necessary.
Cranberry Apple Pie
1 ready made pie crust
1 egg white
2 lbs medium Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored and sliced
3/4 cup frozen cranberries
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon flour
1/2 tablespoon cornstarch
2 teaspoons grated orange zest
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 cup old-fashioned oats
1/4 cup gingersnap crumbs
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
4 tablespoons butter, melted
Preheat oven to 375°. Brush the entire inside of the crust with the egg white. Toss the apples and cranberries with the sugar, flour, cornstarch, orange zest and nutmeg. Spread the mixture evenly in the crust, pressing down. Mix the remaining ingredients and spread evenly over the top. Cover with foil and bake on the bottom rack for 45 minutes. Remove foil and bake for 10-15 minutes more.
Apple Butter Pumpkin Pie
1 cup pumpkin puree
1 cup apple butter
1/2 cup brown sugar. packed
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup heavy cream
1 9 inch unbaked pie crust
Preheat oven to 375°. Combine pumpkin, apple butter, brown sugar, and spices. Gently mix in eggs. Stir in the cream. Pour evenly into the unbaked pie crust. It would be a good idea to cover the edges of the crust with foil. Bake for 25 minutes and then remove the foil. Bake for an additional 20-25 minutes or until pie is set and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
New York Pumpkin Cheesecake
3 cups graham cracker crumbs
2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 15 ounce can pumpkin
2 pounds cream cheese, room temperature
7 eggs, beaten
2/3 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons rum (or 1 tsp extract)
2 teaspoons nutmeg
Preheat oven to 375°. Combine the crumbs, butter and pumpkin pie spice. Press evenly into a 9 inch springform pan. Bake for 5 minutes.
Combine the rest of the ingredients in a mixer and beat well. Pour evenly into the pan. Bake for 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to 300° and bake for an additional 45 minutes or until the center is set. Turn off the oven but let the cake remain in the oven for about 30 minutes or so.
Buttermilk Maple Sorbet
1/4 cup pure maple syrup
2 1/2 cups buttermilk
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
Mix the ingredients together until sugar dissolves and let sit in refrigerator until cold. Process in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer¢s instructions. Place in a freezer safe plastic container and freeze for at least 24 hours before service. Keep frozen.
Yankee Oatmeal Molasses Buns
4 cups flour
1 packet or ½ teaspoon active dry yeast
½ cup old fashioned oats
1 cup milk
¼ cup butter
¼ cup molasses
1 tablespoon brown sugar
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cloves
2 eggs
Sift two cups of the flour with the yeast. Combine the other two cups with the oats. Combine milk and butter and warm, about 110-115°, and butter melts. Combine the warm milk with the molasses, brown sugar and spices. In a mixer with the dough hook, slowly combine the four and yeast with the eggs and warm mixture. Add the rest of the flour and oats and mix until just combined. Raise the speed a little and knead for about 5 minutes until the dough is springy and smooth. Place in a large greased bowl, cover with plastic place in a warm, dry place with no draft, like on top of the stove or inside a turned-off oven. Let rise until doubled in size, about one hour. Punch the dough down. On a floured clean counter or cutting board, cut the dough into 16 equal pieces. Roll each piece into balls with the palm of your hand until smooth, Place on a greased cookie sheet about an inch apart. Cover with plastic and let rise for about 30 minutes. Bake in a preheated oven at 375° for 12 minutes.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Up To The Gills
In the crazy world of culinary arts, or more specifically, the restaurant business, marketing is everything. It seems people would rather go to a place with horrible food if it has a quirky name and a gimmick than to a place with incredible food with an ambience that is bland and ordinary . Many years ago a restaurant opened in Sandy, Utah that had the whole Wasatch Front abuzz. My family went to eat there, once. ONCE. Not a single thing about the place appealed to me, although I will admit the cliff divers were fun to watch, if you can get past the chance both you and your food will get soggy. Speaking of the food, I’d rather not. Of course, the reason the whole state was gaga over this place was it’s owner - Larry H. Miller. Nothing against the guy, really, but it seems here in Utah, if you want your business to succeed, associate it with LHM and you can’t fail, no matter how mediocre or uninspiring it is.
Of course, I’m not immune to the phenomenon. I have two restaurant ideas in the works and believe me, the hardest part is coming up with a name for the place as well as interesting names for menu items. I have the Black Rattler (named after a Rowan Atkinson character named The Black Adder) which is a fusion of various Old World cuisine with Sonoran (i.e. Arizona). Then there’s my soup kitchen (yes I am the Soup Nazi!) which I call Oliver’s Porridge Emporium. Nothing but soups and sandwiches. See? Quirky name and a gimmick.
It seems that Lemony Snicket was well aware of restaurant marketing when he wrote his Series of Unfortunate Events - The Ersatz Elevator. I couldn’t help laugh when I read about his Café Salmonella. Of course it has nothing to do with food-born illness (I hope), but I couldn’t help being reminded of a restaurant in Phoenix called La Cucaracha. That’s The Cockroach to you gringos. I can see it now. “Hey! Let’s go eat at La Cucaracha!” “What’s on the menu?” “Um, you don’t really want to know.”
Seriously, though. The gimmick behind Café Salmonella is not the bacteria, but the fish, as in poor guy’s so pink his only chance is to swim against the currents, dams and bears on the Atkins Diet for a chance at Ladies Night Out Up The River. Everything on the menu has salmon in it, and the décor is salmon pink right down to the server’s uniforms. That’s major overkill, of course, but it’s still pretty funny.
Of course, the real question is not how to cook salmon, but how to get kids to eat it. Salmon is, after all, a very potent fish. I actually prefer my salmon as the Japanese do - raw, on a ball of rice with a dollop of wasabi. If you can get past the raw part, it doesn’t taste ‘fishy’ like cooked salmon does. For amateur fish eaters I recommend something milder like halibut, sea bass or maybe even a nice ahi tuna (but not canned tuna, unless you like cat-breath).
Yes, salmon can definitely pose a problem for parents trying to get their kids to eat something besides Frank ‘n’ Beans. There’s even a whole book devoted to the lengths a child will go to avoid eating salmon casserole. Some kids would rather eat fried worms.
Here are some samples from the books for you recipe hounds -
Broiled Salmon
Broiling salmon is easy. Move the rack in the oven to the top and preheat the oven as high as it will go - to broil. Ovens have two heat sources, top and bottom so everything cooks evenly. The broiler cooks only from the top, but it gets to about 500°F. Place the salmon on a foil-lined cookie sheet or broiler pan. Drizzle a little olive oil over the top and sprinkle with a dash of salt and pepper. You could use other seasonings such as dill with slices of lemon or Old Bay® seasoning, or anything else you might be brave enough to try. The general rule of thumb is about 10 minutes per inch. Most salmon filets are 1-2 inches thick. It’s best if all the filets are the same size. Since the tail is thinner than the rest of the fish, it might be best to use a different cooking method such as steaming, poaching or baking if you are using a whole side of salmon. The salmon, as will all fish, will flake apart when poked with a fork.
Creamy Salmon Soup
This is also known as a bisque - a rich, smooth, velvety, creamy pureed soup. You can use leftover broiled salmon for this soup or you can steam it, poach it or buy it already smoked.
1 lb salmon, broiled or smoked, shredded.
1 T olive oil
½ medium white onion, sliced
1 tsp minced garlic
1 T dried dill
1 tsp Old Bay® seasoning
1 bottle clam juice
1 15 oz can vegetable broth
1 Qt heavy cream
¼ C sour cream
1 T lemon juice
1 large tomato, diced
1 cucumber, peeled, seeded and diced.
In a large sauce pan, heat the oil and cook the onions, garlic and spices until the onions become soft and aromatic. Puree half the cooked salmon with the clam juice and vegetable stock until smooth. Strain with a fine mesh strainer and add it to the pot with the heavy cream. Bring to a simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the rest of the salmon, the sour cream and lemon juice and simmer for 5 more minutes. Pour into some bowls and garnish with diced tomatoes and cucumbers.
Chilled Salmon Salad
I’m not sure what Lemony Snicket had in mind when he thought up this dish. I can imagine something like tuna salad only with salmon instead, cooked of course. You just need some chopped celery and onions, a little bit of mayo and Dijon mustard, some dill and maybe a little splash of lemon juice (noticing a trend here?), and of course a dash of salt and pepper. Maybe serve it with some Boston Bib lettuce or baby mixed greens.
Salmon Casserole - How to Eat Fried Worms
This is the book that started it all. I can understand someone’s distaste for salmon. It is a strong fish. But for someone to prefer eating worms over salmon is just silly. This recipe is basically just like the salmon salad - picture tuna casserole but with salmon instead. If your mom has a good tuna casserole that you like, try that one and just substitute salmon.
½ pound Pasta, cooked, cooled
1 large can salmon, cleaned of bones and skin
1 can cream of celery or asparagus or mushroom
1 C Mozzarella cheese
½ C Parmesan cheese
½ bag French cut green beans
1 T dill
1 t lemon juice
Mix all the ingredients in a large bowl. Pour into a greased casserole dish and bake in a preheated oven at 350° for 25-30 minutes.
Salmon Spanakopita
Here is an interesting Greek dish that I think would go well with fried worms…or not. This is actually more of a ‘mock’ spanakopita. A real spanakopita has a pasty crust made from sheets of phylo pastry dough and is usually vegetarian.
1 16 oz carton cottage cheese
2 4 oz carton of feta crumbles
1 large can salmon, cleaned of bones and skin
½ of 9 oz bag of fresh spinach or 1 package frozen spinach, thawed and drained
1 T dill
1 t lemon juice
½ t pepper
6 T flour
4 eggs, lightly beaten
Mix all the ingredients together in a large bowl. Pour into a greased 8 x 8 casserole dish and bake in a preheated oven at 325° for 25-30 minutes.
Of course, I’m not immune to the phenomenon. I have two restaurant ideas in the works and believe me, the hardest part is coming up with a name for the place as well as interesting names for menu items. I have the Black Rattler (named after a Rowan Atkinson character named The Black Adder) which is a fusion of various Old World cuisine with Sonoran (i.e. Arizona). Then there’s my soup kitchen (yes I am the Soup Nazi!) which I call Oliver’s Porridge Emporium. Nothing but soups and sandwiches. See? Quirky name and a gimmick.
It seems that Lemony Snicket was well aware of restaurant marketing when he wrote his Series of Unfortunate Events - The Ersatz Elevator. I couldn’t help laugh when I read about his Café Salmonella. Of course it has nothing to do with food-born illness (I hope), but I couldn’t help being reminded of a restaurant in Phoenix called La Cucaracha. That’s The Cockroach to you gringos. I can see it now. “Hey! Let’s go eat at La Cucaracha!” “What’s on the menu?” “Um, you don’t really want to know.”
Seriously, though. The gimmick behind Café Salmonella is not the bacteria, but the fish, as in poor guy’s so pink his only chance is to swim against the currents, dams and bears on the Atkins Diet for a chance at Ladies Night Out Up The River. Everything on the menu has salmon in it, and the décor is salmon pink right down to the server’s uniforms. That’s major overkill, of course, but it’s still pretty funny.
Of course, the real question is not how to cook salmon, but how to get kids to eat it. Salmon is, after all, a very potent fish. I actually prefer my salmon as the Japanese do - raw, on a ball of rice with a dollop of wasabi. If you can get past the raw part, it doesn’t taste ‘fishy’ like cooked salmon does. For amateur fish eaters I recommend something milder like halibut, sea bass or maybe even a nice ahi tuna (but not canned tuna, unless you like cat-breath).
Yes, salmon can definitely pose a problem for parents trying to get their kids to eat something besides Frank ‘n’ Beans. There’s even a whole book devoted to the lengths a child will go to avoid eating salmon casserole. Some kids would rather eat fried worms.
Here are some samples from the books for you recipe hounds -
Broiled Salmon
Broiling salmon is easy. Move the rack in the oven to the top and preheat the oven as high as it will go - to broil. Ovens have two heat sources, top and bottom so everything cooks evenly. The broiler cooks only from the top, but it gets to about 500°F. Place the salmon on a foil-lined cookie sheet or broiler pan. Drizzle a little olive oil over the top and sprinkle with a dash of salt and pepper. You could use other seasonings such as dill with slices of lemon or Old Bay® seasoning, or anything else you might be brave enough to try. The general rule of thumb is about 10 minutes per inch. Most salmon filets are 1-2 inches thick. It’s best if all the filets are the same size. Since the tail is thinner than the rest of the fish, it might be best to use a different cooking method such as steaming, poaching or baking if you are using a whole side of salmon. The salmon, as will all fish, will flake apart when poked with a fork.
Creamy Salmon Soup
This is also known as a bisque - a rich, smooth, velvety, creamy pureed soup. You can use leftover broiled salmon for this soup or you can steam it, poach it or buy it already smoked.
1 lb salmon, broiled or smoked, shredded.
1 T olive oil
½ medium white onion, sliced
1 tsp minced garlic
1 T dried dill
1 tsp Old Bay® seasoning
1 bottle clam juice
1 15 oz can vegetable broth
1 Qt heavy cream
¼ C sour cream
1 T lemon juice
1 large tomato, diced
1 cucumber, peeled, seeded and diced.
In a large sauce pan, heat the oil and cook the onions, garlic and spices until the onions become soft and aromatic. Puree half the cooked salmon with the clam juice and vegetable stock until smooth. Strain with a fine mesh strainer and add it to the pot with the heavy cream. Bring to a simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the rest of the salmon, the sour cream and lemon juice and simmer for 5 more minutes. Pour into some bowls and garnish with diced tomatoes and cucumbers.
Chilled Salmon Salad
I’m not sure what Lemony Snicket had in mind when he thought up this dish. I can imagine something like tuna salad only with salmon instead, cooked of course. You just need some chopped celery and onions, a little bit of mayo and Dijon mustard, some dill and maybe a little splash of lemon juice (noticing a trend here?), and of course a dash of salt and pepper. Maybe serve it with some Boston Bib lettuce or baby mixed greens.
Salmon Casserole - How to Eat Fried Worms
This is the book that started it all. I can understand someone’s distaste for salmon. It is a strong fish. But for someone to prefer eating worms over salmon is just silly. This recipe is basically just like the salmon salad - picture tuna casserole but with salmon instead. If your mom has a good tuna casserole that you like, try that one and just substitute salmon.
½ pound Pasta, cooked, cooled
1 large can salmon, cleaned of bones and skin
1 can cream of celery or asparagus or mushroom
1 C Mozzarella cheese
½ C Parmesan cheese
½ bag French cut green beans
1 T dill
1 t lemon juice
Mix all the ingredients in a large bowl. Pour into a greased casserole dish and bake in a preheated oven at 350° for 25-30 minutes.
Salmon Spanakopita
Here is an interesting Greek dish that I think would go well with fried worms…or not. This is actually more of a ‘mock’ spanakopita. A real spanakopita has a pasty crust made from sheets of phylo pastry dough and is usually vegetarian.
1 16 oz carton cottage cheese
2 4 oz carton of feta crumbles
1 large can salmon, cleaned of bones and skin
½ of 9 oz bag of fresh spinach or 1 package frozen spinach, thawed and drained
1 T dill
1 t lemon juice
½ t pepper
6 T flour
4 eggs, lightly beaten
Mix all the ingredients together in a large bowl. Pour into a greased 8 x 8 casserole dish and bake in a preheated oven at 325° for 25-30 minutes.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Ice, Ice...baby
It’s summertime and the livin’ is easy. Well, if you’re a kid anyway. Of course, what would summer be without watermelon, lemonade, BBQ’s and, more importantly, for my friends in Phoenix, ice cream?
I have few memories of ice cream, probably because I ate so much of it. (Brain freeze! Yes, it does explain a lot). I do remember, though, what a treat it was when my mom got out the ice cream machine. I’m sure she made other flavors besides vanilla or strawberry, but for some reason I don’t remember her ever making chocolate, although I’m pretty sure she did. I can't see her not making chocolate ice cream. The one that I remember the most, though, was her peach ice cream. She didn’t put fresh peaches; they were always canned. But her trick was the J-ello. It made for a very peachy ice cream that is still my favorite today.
The one problem with making homemade ice cream is using the ice cream machine, or maker or whatever you want to call it. Even with an electric motor instead of the old Victorian-style hand crank, it’s still tedious, cumbersome and if you don’t know what your doing, easy to mess up. You have to get the salt to ice ratio just right. It could freeze to quickly and turn hard or not freeze at all. Not fun for a kid. But, there is another way, so easy even a child could do it.
In my research for my cookbook, several of the books I read mention ice cream. Harry Potter ate not only strawberry ice cream, but strawberry and peanut butter ice cream too. His cousin Dudley was a well known connoisseur of the Knickerbocker Glory which is nothing more than a British version of our Banana Split. The Great Brain wrote about how he and his brother would help turn the crank to make Chocolate or Pineapple ice cream. Ma Ingalls didn’t have an ice machine in that Little House on the Prairie, hand cranked or otherwise. She had to put the custard in an ice bath, cover it with a towel and stir it every 15 minutes or so. Thank goodness for the Industrial Revolution!
Making ice cream with custard is traditional. Think French Vanilla. It gets its yellow tint from the egg yolk. Otherwise it’s no different from Philadelphia style which has no eggs and is what we are all familiar with today. It’s easy to make, even for a child, but it does take practice. Maybe I’ll do a bit on custards later. Here are a few you can try that involve shaking the mixture in plastic bags.
Vanilla -
2 C Heavy Whipping Cream
2 C Half and Half
½ C Sugar
2 t Vanilla
Crushed Ice
½ C Rock Salt
1 Qt freezer bag
Gallon freezer bag
In a large bowl, combine the creams, sugar and vanilla and mix well until the sugar dissolves. Pour into a one quart zip-lock freezer bag. Secure tightly, making sure to press out any air pockets. Fill half of the gallon bag with ice and half the rock salt. Put the bag with the ice cream mix inside and surround with more ice and the remaining rock salt. Shake vigorously until the mixture starts to freeze and harden - anywhere from 5-10 minutes. If it doesn’t start to freeze after awhile, add a little more ice and rock salt. One the ice cream is ready, remove the bag and place in the freezer for a couple of hours.
To make different flavors of ice cream you can use this as a base. Just omit the vanilla and adjust the sugar.
Chocolate -
Omit the sugar and add Hershey’s chocolate syrup, more or less depending on how chocolaty you want it. You could even add chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, or mini-marshmallows and peanuts for Rocky Road.
Pineapple -
Drain 2 small cans of pineapple chunks and puree with the creams and sugar. Add 2 cups of shredded coconut for a piña colada.
Strawberry -
There are two ways to do strawberry ice cream. First, cut the stems off a pint of strawberries, cut them in half and cover with ¼ cup sugar. Let sit for about 30 minutes. Puree the strawberries and sugar with the creams and ¼ cup strawberry jam. Or, you can omit the fresh strawberries and sugar and use ½ cup strawberry preserves, but personally I think the first way would work best.
Strawberry and Peanut butter -
You might want to use a 2 quart bag for this one. Adding the peanut butter, although only a small amount, might be just a little too much. Make the strawberry ice cream using the method above. In a small bowl, mix ½ cup smooth creamy peanut butter with ½ cup heavy whipping cream. It should be thick, yet pour-able. After you pour the strawberry mixture into the bag, spoon in the peanut butter mixture, but don’t stir it. After you’ve placed the bag in the larger bag with the ice and salt, gently rock it back and forth. If you do it too vigorously, and you might mix the peanut butter in with the strawberry. If you do it gently, it should swirl. I think…I hope! This one is actually best for an electric ice cream maker where you can add in the peanut butter mixture in just before the strawberry is done.
Peach -
I’m adding this one not just because of the memories, but because of James and the Giant Peach. Even though the only food mentioned in the book is the Fizzy Lemonade his evil aunts drank, James and the other insects did eat the peach while flying away.
Omit the sugar and reduce the vanilla to ½ teaspoon. Add one 3 ounce packet of peach Jell-O, and one 14 ounce can of peach chunks, drained. Or, you can use ½ pound frozen peaches. Thaw them out and chop them coarsely in the food processor with 2 tablespoons of sugar. If you use fresh peaches, peel and pit them and chop them coarsely in the food processor.
So, there ya have it! Ice cream done simple. There are so many different flavors you can do! I once did a rosemary ice cream that required seeping the rosemary in hot cream for an hour and chilling it. The possibilities are endless!
I have few memories of ice cream, probably because I ate so much of it. (Brain freeze! Yes, it does explain a lot). I do remember, though, what a treat it was when my mom got out the ice cream machine. I’m sure she made other flavors besides vanilla or strawberry, but for some reason I don’t remember her ever making chocolate, although I’m pretty sure she did. I can't see her not making chocolate ice cream. The one that I remember the most, though, was her peach ice cream. She didn’t put fresh peaches; they were always canned. But her trick was the J-ello. It made for a very peachy ice cream that is still my favorite today.
The one problem with making homemade ice cream is using the ice cream machine, or maker or whatever you want to call it. Even with an electric motor instead of the old Victorian-style hand crank, it’s still tedious, cumbersome and if you don’t know what your doing, easy to mess up. You have to get the salt to ice ratio just right. It could freeze to quickly and turn hard or not freeze at all. Not fun for a kid. But, there is another way, so easy even a child could do it.
In my research for my cookbook, several of the books I read mention ice cream. Harry Potter ate not only strawberry ice cream, but strawberry and peanut butter ice cream too. His cousin Dudley was a well known connoisseur of the Knickerbocker Glory which is nothing more than a British version of our Banana Split. The Great Brain wrote about how he and his brother would help turn the crank to make Chocolate or Pineapple ice cream. Ma Ingalls didn’t have an ice machine in that Little House on the Prairie, hand cranked or otherwise. She had to put the custard in an ice bath, cover it with a towel and stir it every 15 minutes or so. Thank goodness for the Industrial Revolution!
Making ice cream with custard is traditional. Think French Vanilla. It gets its yellow tint from the egg yolk. Otherwise it’s no different from Philadelphia style which has no eggs and is what we are all familiar with today. It’s easy to make, even for a child, but it does take practice. Maybe I’ll do a bit on custards later. Here are a few you can try that involve shaking the mixture in plastic bags.
Vanilla -
2 C Heavy Whipping Cream
2 C Half and Half
½ C Sugar
2 t Vanilla
Crushed Ice
½ C Rock Salt
1 Qt freezer bag
Gallon freezer bag
In a large bowl, combine the creams, sugar and vanilla and mix well until the sugar dissolves. Pour into a one quart zip-lock freezer bag. Secure tightly, making sure to press out any air pockets. Fill half of the gallon bag with ice and half the rock salt. Put the bag with the ice cream mix inside and surround with more ice and the remaining rock salt. Shake vigorously until the mixture starts to freeze and harden - anywhere from 5-10 minutes. If it doesn’t start to freeze after awhile, add a little more ice and rock salt. One the ice cream is ready, remove the bag and place in the freezer for a couple of hours.
To make different flavors of ice cream you can use this as a base. Just omit the vanilla and adjust the sugar.
Chocolate -
Omit the sugar and add Hershey’s chocolate syrup, more or less depending on how chocolaty you want it. You could even add chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, or mini-marshmallows and peanuts for Rocky Road.
Pineapple -
Drain 2 small cans of pineapple chunks and puree with the creams and sugar. Add 2 cups of shredded coconut for a piña colada.
Strawberry -
There are two ways to do strawberry ice cream. First, cut the stems off a pint of strawberries, cut them in half and cover with ¼ cup sugar. Let sit for about 30 minutes. Puree the strawberries and sugar with the creams and ¼ cup strawberry jam. Or, you can omit the fresh strawberries and sugar and use ½ cup strawberry preserves, but personally I think the first way would work best.
Strawberry and Peanut butter -
You might want to use a 2 quart bag for this one. Adding the peanut butter, although only a small amount, might be just a little too much. Make the strawberry ice cream using the method above. In a small bowl, mix ½ cup smooth creamy peanut butter with ½ cup heavy whipping cream. It should be thick, yet pour-able. After you pour the strawberry mixture into the bag, spoon in the peanut butter mixture, but don’t stir it. After you’ve placed the bag in the larger bag with the ice and salt, gently rock it back and forth. If you do it too vigorously, and you might mix the peanut butter in with the strawberry. If you do it gently, it should swirl. I think…I hope! This one is actually best for an electric ice cream maker where you can add in the peanut butter mixture in just before the strawberry is done.
Peach -
I’m adding this one not just because of the memories, but because of James and the Giant Peach. Even though the only food mentioned in the book is the Fizzy Lemonade his evil aunts drank, James and the other insects did eat the peach while flying away.
Omit the sugar and reduce the vanilla to ½ teaspoon. Add one 3 ounce packet of peach Jell-O, and one 14 ounce can of peach chunks, drained. Or, you can use ½ pound frozen peaches. Thaw them out and chop them coarsely in the food processor with 2 tablespoons of sugar. If you use fresh peaches, peel and pit them and chop them coarsely in the food processor.
So, there ya have it! Ice cream done simple. There are so many different flavors you can do! I once did a rosemary ice cream that required seeping the rosemary in hot cream for an hour and chilling it. The possibilities are endless!
Thursday, June 17, 2010
This time, I used real Fritos
My mother recently came home from church with the annual local cookbook with a collection of recipes from women in the neighborhood. I look forward to this not because of my love of food, but because it’s always interesting to see how others think in terms of food and cooking. I have come to understand, recently, that I am not into what you would call, ‘home-style cooking’. I know how to cook, obviously. I’ve been doing it professionally for nearly 20 years. My problem is that I am so used to restaurant cooking. This is so much different than cooking at home. While the basic techniques are the same, the equipment (how I wish I had a gas stove at home!!), the atmosphere and the frame of mind are completely different.
There are fussy kids with short attention spans to worry about. There are schedules booked to the limit, husbands who miss Mama’s cooking, and more and more wives , and people in general, who can’t cook beyond the microwave. I see it in my profession as well. I’ve worked with cooks, (by no means do I ever call them chefs) who have graduated from culinary school that not only refuse to cook, claiming “I don’t know how”, but when they do, they can’t even do simple tasks like boiling potatoes.
I do have to deal with fussy eaters that come through my restaurant. Everyone has their own opinion. I worked at one place where it seemed every regular customer was a friend of the owner and all I heard was, “Oh, my Aunt So and So makes it this way. It’s to die for! You should do it this way” I don’t care how good your Aunt’s cooking is, that is insulting to a chef. That’s like telling Leonardo Da Vinci, “My cousin Michelangelo paints such beautiful cherubs. You should paint like he does.” Look, If you miss your Aunt’s cooking so much, go eat at her house.
But seriously. Back to this local cookbook. It is very interesting to see the local tastes and styles. There were some interesting things in there. A couple of which I might try. That’s a big emphasis on ‘might’. It’s not that none of the recipes where any good. Obviously they are or there would have been no reason to turn them in to be published. It’s just that everything was so…family. Pedestrian is the word I tend to use.
Recently I went looking for a recipe to submit to a contest dealing in ‘lost recipes’ - recipes that one might consider ‘heirlooms’ and have been handed down several generations. I found one of my Grandmother Laverne’s that I actually remembered fondly from our Sunday dinners. It’s your basic broccoli and cheese casserole. I balked at one ingredient - Cheese Whiz. My initial reaction was, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I, who have worked with the likes of Wolfgang Puck would never even consider buying Cheese Whiz! And yet there it was. She put Velveeta in her famous meatloaf as well. How would I live that down?
Am I a food snob? I know my distaste for certain things is almost infamous among my family and closest friends (Ketchup - The Devil’s Blood!). I’ve even had a of couple friends say they’d invite me over for dinner but I intimidate them. My answer is emphatically, ‘Why?’. There’s nothing wrong with a simple Mac ‘n Cheese followed by some jell-o. But there’s something to be said for wanting to experience the finer things in life, even if it’s just to say you have.
The next time you make Mac ‘n Cheese, instead of making it from a box, learn to make a nice cheese sauce, and don’t just use American or cheddar cheese. How about a five-cheese mix, like Cheddar, mozzarella, parmesan, gouda and fontina. It could get expensive, yes, but the idea is not to eat like this all the time, just once in awhile. And Mac 'n Cheese like that would be a special treat. I’ve said it before on this blog and I will continue to say it again…expand your palette! There is no such thing as weird unless you go to some parts of Indo-china and eat roasted scorpions on a stick. I mean, I do have my limits.
I recently got a co-worker known for his fussy palette to try frog legs. His philosophy is Twinkies are good for you because they taste good. Fish is bad for you because it tastes yucky. I tried to make a bet with him that I could make something with fish in it and he’ll like it. If I won, he would have to tell the world he liked fish. If I lost, I’d never bug him about it again. He declined without hesitation. Either his fear of fish was too strong or perhaps deep down he knew I’d win. I always win. I haven’t lost yet. Case in point: the frog legs. How did I do it? Despite my own, albeit slight, trepidations, I ate some too. It’s kind of like showing your baby that strained peas is not so bad by showing a willingness to eat them too.
So, I ask again, am I a food snob? So I hate ketchup. Big deal. While I can’t stand the taste or smell of it, I don’t think it’s a sin to put it on your hamburger or a hot dog. But if I’m paying $30 for a filet mignon or $5-$6 a pound for a nice rib-eye steak for the 4th of July, I’m not going to drown it in ketchup. How about a nice Sauce Diane? Au Poirve? Or just a simple au jus with horseradish. Putting ketchup on a nice steak makes me think of Joy Turner from “My Name is Earl” and her ‘famous Frito Pie…only this time, I used real Fritos.” Bon Apetit.
There are fussy kids with short attention spans to worry about. There are schedules booked to the limit, husbands who miss Mama’s cooking, and more and more wives , and people in general, who can’t cook beyond the microwave. I see it in my profession as well. I’ve worked with cooks, (by no means do I ever call them chefs) who have graduated from culinary school that not only refuse to cook, claiming “I don’t know how”, but when they do, they can’t even do simple tasks like boiling potatoes.
I do have to deal with fussy eaters that come through my restaurant. Everyone has their own opinion. I worked at one place where it seemed every regular customer was a friend of the owner and all I heard was, “Oh, my Aunt So and So makes it this way. It’s to die for! You should do it this way” I don’t care how good your Aunt’s cooking is, that is insulting to a chef. That’s like telling Leonardo Da Vinci, “My cousin Michelangelo paints such beautiful cherubs. You should paint like he does.” Look, If you miss your Aunt’s cooking so much, go eat at her house.
But seriously. Back to this local cookbook. It is very interesting to see the local tastes and styles. There were some interesting things in there. A couple of which I might try. That’s a big emphasis on ‘might’. It’s not that none of the recipes where any good. Obviously they are or there would have been no reason to turn them in to be published. It’s just that everything was so…family. Pedestrian is the word I tend to use.
Recently I went looking for a recipe to submit to a contest dealing in ‘lost recipes’ - recipes that one might consider ‘heirlooms’ and have been handed down several generations. I found one of my Grandmother Laverne’s that I actually remembered fondly from our Sunday dinners. It’s your basic broccoli and cheese casserole. I balked at one ingredient - Cheese Whiz. My initial reaction was, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I, who have worked with the likes of Wolfgang Puck would never even consider buying Cheese Whiz! And yet there it was. She put Velveeta in her famous meatloaf as well. How would I live that down?
Am I a food snob? I know my distaste for certain things is almost infamous among my family and closest friends (Ketchup - The Devil’s Blood!). I’ve even had a of couple friends say they’d invite me over for dinner but I intimidate them. My answer is emphatically, ‘Why?’. There’s nothing wrong with a simple Mac ‘n Cheese followed by some jell-o. But there’s something to be said for wanting to experience the finer things in life, even if it’s just to say you have.
The next time you make Mac ‘n Cheese, instead of making it from a box, learn to make a nice cheese sauce, and don’t just use American or cheddar cheese. How about a five-cheese mix, like Cheddar, mozzarella, parmesan, gouda and fontina. It could get expensive, yes, but the idea is not to eat like this all the time, just once in awhile. And Mac 'n Cheese like that would be a special treat. I’ve said it before on this blog and I will continue to say it again…expand your palette! There is no such thing as weird unless you go to some parts of Indo-china and eat roasted scorpions on a stick. I mean, I do have my limits.
I recently got a co-worker known for his fussy palette to try frog legs. His philosophy is Twinkies are good for you because they taste good. Fish is bad for you because it tastes yucky. I tried to make a bet with him that I could make something with fish in it and he’ll like it. If I won, he would have to tell the world he liked fish. If I lost, I’d never bug him about it again. He declined without hesitation. Either his fear of fish was too strong or perhaps deep down he knew I’d win. I always win. I haven’t lost yet. Case in point: the frog legs. How did I do it? Despite my own, albeit slight, trepidations, I ate some too. It’s kind of like showing your baby that strained peas is not so bad by showing a willingness to eat them too.
So, I ask again, am I a food snob? So I hate ketchup. Big deal. While I can’t stand the taste or smell of it, I don’t think it’s a sin to put it on your hamburger or a hot dog. But if I’m paying $30 for a filet mignon or $5-$6 a pound for a nice rib-eye steak for the 4th of July, I’m not going to drown it in ketchup. How about a nice Sauce Diane? Au Poirve? Or just a simple au jus with horseradish. Putting ketchup on a nice steak makes me think of Joy Turner from “My Name is Earl” and her ‘famous Frito Pie…only this time, I used real Fritos.” Bon Apetit.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Mi Salsa es tu Salsa Part II
A Series of Unfortunate Events. Sounds like my love life. Ha! No, just kidding. A good series of books (I have them all), even if the ending was disappointing. I mean, that’s it? No “happy ever after”? I mean, so they don’t have to worry about Count Olaf anymore. Big deal. Seriously, they had a better chance of getting off that island than Gilligan.
But the food! The only book that comes even close to peeking my culinary curiosity is Harry Potter and even that’s a stretch. J.K. Rowling’s use of food in her books is incredible (and I’ll happily admit HP is what got me started on this little venture) even if 90% of what she writes about is true English food.
Lemon Snicket, on the other hand, could easily have been a chef. Who else would come up with an entire restaurant based on salmon and call it Café Salmonella. Kind of reminds me of a Mexican restaurant in Phoenix (N. 7th Ave, I think?) called La Cucaracha (The Cockroach).
So, the other day my sister asked me about authentic enchilada sauce. Luckily for me, Lemony Snicket mentioned just the same thing! Well, sort of. While the kids where in the Vile Village, a man named Hector took care of them and made them a dinner of enchiladas like his mom had made for him.
Being from Arizona, I love a good enchilada. I hate bad ones, but that goes without saying…even though I just did. My mom made enchiladas with a great creamy sauce with green chilies. Unfortunately, she never wrote down the recipe and changes it every time she makes it depending on what she has on hand and that makes it difficult to include it, but I’ll do my best!
I’ve also included a couple of other traditional sauces I think you should try. The Red Chili Sauce (Salsa Roja), is the spiciest. (Don't believe those who think green is hotter!!!) If you don’t want to take the time to cook the chicken and roll the enchiladas, you can buy those frozen chicken taquitos, Just be sure to thaw them out first. I’m dreaming of Jordan’s on Central Ave again (even though it’s closed)!
Cooking the Chicken -
3 lbs chicken
2 Bay leaves
10 whole peppercorns
Put everything in a large pot and cover with cold water. Bring the water to a boil then reduce the heat a little and let it simmer gently for about 30 minutes. Pull the chicken out of the water, put it on a large plate, and let it cool. The chicken should be tender and break apart easily with a fork. Shred it into thin pieces. Save the water in the pot.
In a large bowl, mix the chicken together with:
1 bunch green onions, chopped - white and green parts together
1 4 oz can chopped olives or 1 6 oz can whole olives, chopped
Roll this mixture into corn tortillas with a sprinkle of cheese and place then in a casserole dish. Cover with the sauce of your choice and more cheese. Bake, covered with foil, at 325° F for 25-30 minutes.
Creamy Enchilada Sauce -
2 cans cream of chicken soup
1 soup can of milk
2 4 oz cans diced green chilies
2 tablespoons sour cream
Salsa Verde (Green Chili Sauce) -
Before we start there are several things you should know. It’s best to use the canned green chilies. Roasting chilies involves rubbing them with oil, putting them on a hot grill until completely black, putting them in a bowl and covering with plastic to let them steam in their own heat for an hour or two and then rubbing off the burnt skin. Way too much effort even for adults. However, if you want to go through all that trouble, the taste is totally worth it. Also, using canned tomatillos is totally acceptable because blanching them involves peeling off the paper-like skin, cooking them in hot boiling salted water for two minutes and immediately cooling them in an ice water bath. Again, if you want to do that it is totally worth the effort. If you have a tomato garden and you have some nice green tomatoes, those work just fine instead of tomatillos. They are not related in any way (even though they look the same), but the flavors are very similar. You don’t even have to blanch them. Finally, you don’t have to clean the seeds out of the Poblano chilies because they aren’t all that hot. At least not to me! If you want some heat, add a jalapeño or two. If you are feeling brave, you don’t have to clean the seeds out of that one either. Now, let’s get started!
1 T Olive Oil
1 Small Onion, chopped
2 fresh Poblano chilies, chopped
1 teaspoon fresh minced garlic
½ teaspoon ground cumin
¼ teaspoon dried oregano
1 8oz can green chilies or 10 - 12 roasted fresh Anaheim chilies
1 7 oz can tomatillos or ½ lb fresh tomatillos cleaned, blanched and cut in quarters
1 14 oz can chicken or vegetable broth
1 bunch fresh cilantro, chopped fine
1 T lime juice
salt and pepper
In a medium-sized sauce pan, heat the olive oil just a little. Sauté the onions, Poblanos, garlic, cumin and oregano until the onions get soft and the garlic and spices start to sweat. Put this mixture in a food processor with the roasted chilies, tomatillos and half of the broth and blend until smooth. Put all this back into the same sauce pan with the rest of the broth and bring the sauce to a simmer. Let the sauce cook for about five minutes. Remove from the heat. Add the cilantro, lime juice and salt and pepper. Taste it and add a little more salt and pepper if needed.
Salsa Roja (Red Chili Sauce) -
8-10 dried large red chilies (or ½ C red chili powder)
2 cups boiling water
1 T olive oil
1 T flour
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried oregano
1 8 oz can (1 cup) tomato sauce - optional
Dash of salt
In a bowl, combine the dried chilies and boiling water. After the water has cooled and the chilies are nice and soft, pull the stems off and then puree the chilies with the water. In a saucepan, warm up the olive oil a little. If the oil is too hot, you’ll burn the spices. Add the cumin and oregano and cook, stirring constantly, for a couple of minutes until the spices start to sweat. Add the flour and keep stirring until mixed well and you have a nice paste. Add the pureed chilies (and tomato sauce, if you like) and stir until the paste is dissolved. Simmer for 5 minutes. Add a little salt and taste to make sure it‘s right. If you use chili powder, there’s no need to puree anything.
But the food! The only book that comes even close to peeking my culinary curiosity is Harry Potter and even that’s a stretch. J.K. Rowling’s use of food in her books is incredible (and I’ll happily admit HP is what got me started on this little venture) even if 90% of what she writes about is true English food.
Lemon Snicket, on the other hand, could easily have been a chef. Who else would come up with an entire restaurant based on salmon and call it Café Salmonella. Kind of reminds me of a Mexican restaurant in Phoenix (N. 7th Ave, I think?) called La Cucaracha (The Cockroach).
So, the other day my sister asked me about authentic enchilada sauce. Luckily for me, Lemony Snicket mentioned just the same thing! Well, sort of. While the kids where in the Vile Village, a man named Hector took care of them and made them a dinner of enchiladas like his mom had made for him.
Being from Arizona, I love a good enchilada. I hate bad ones, but that goes without saying…even though I just did. My mom made enchiladas with a great creamy sauce with green chilies. Unfortunately, she never wrote down the recipe and changes it every time she makes it depending on what she has on hand and that makes it difficult to include it, but I’ll do my best!
I’ve also included a couple of other traditional sauces I think you should try. The Red Chili Sauce (Salsa Roja), is the spiciest. (Don't believe those who think green is hotter!!!) If you don’t want to take the time to cook the chicken and roll the enchiladas, you can buy those frozen chicken taquitos, Just be sure to thaw them out first. I’m dreaming of Jordan’s on Central Ave again (even though it’s closed)!
Cooking the Chicken -
3 lbs chicken
2 Bay leaves
10 whole peppercorns
Put everything in a large pot and cover with cold water. Bring the water to a boil then reduce the heat a little and let it simmer gently for about 30 minutes. Pull the chicken out of the water, put it on a large plate, and let it cool. The chicken should be tender and break apart easily with a fork. Shred it into thin pieces. Save the water in the pot.
In a large bowl, mix the chicken together with:
1 bunch green onions, chopped - white and green parts together
1 4 oz can chopped olives or 1 6 oz can whole olives, chopped
Roll this mixture into corn tortillas with a sprinkle of cheese and place then in a casserole dish. Cover with the sauce of your choice and more cheese. Bake, covered with foil, at 325° F for 25-30 minutes.
Creamy Enchilada Sauce -
2 cans cream of chicken soup
1 soup can of milk
2 4 oz cans diced green chilies
2 tablespoons sour cream
Salsa Verde (Green Chili Sauce) -
Before we start there are several things you should know. It’s best to use the canned green chilies. Roasting chilies involves rubbing them with oil, putting them on a hot grill until completely black, putting them in a bowl and covering with plastic to let them steam in their own heat for an hour or two and then rubbing off the burnt skin. Way too much effort even for adults. However, if you want to go through all that trouble, the taste is totally worth it. Also, using canned tomatillos is totally acceptable because blanching them involves peeling off the paper-like skin, cooking them in hot boiling salted water for two minutes and immediately cooling them in an ice water bath. Again, if you want to do that it is totally worth the effort. If you have a tomato garden and you have some nice green tomatoes, those work just fine instead of tomatillos. They are not related in any way (even though they look the same), but the flavors are very similar. You don’t even have to blanch them. Finally, you don’t have to clean the seeds out of the Poblano chilies because they aren’t all that hot. At least not to me! If you want some heat, add a jalapeño or two. If you are feeling brave, you don’t have to clean the seeds out of that one either. Now, let’s get started!
1 T Olive Oil
1 Small Onion, chopped
2 fresh Poblano chilies, chopped
1 teaspoon fresh minced garlic
½ teaspoon ground cumin
¼ teaspoon dried oregano
1 8oz can green chilies or 10 - 12 roasted fresh Anaheim chilies
1 7 oz can tomatillos or ½ lb fresh tomatillos cleaned, blanched and cut in quarters
1 14 oz can chicken or vegetable broth
1 bunch fresh cilantro, chopped fine
1 T lime juice
salt and pepper
In a medium-sized sauce pan, heat the olive oil just a little. Sauté the onions, Poblanos, garlic, cumin and oregano until the onions get soft and the garlic and spices start to sweat. Put this mixture in a food processor with the roasted chilies, tomatillos and half of the broth and blend until smooth. Put all this back into the same sauce pan with the rest of the broth and bring the sauce to a simmer. Let the sauce cook for about five minutes. Remove from the heat. Add the cilantro, lime juice and salt and pepper. Taste it and add a little more salt and pepper if needed.
Salsa Roja (Red Chili Sauce) -
8-10 dried large red chilies (or ½ C red chili powder)
2 cups boiling water
1 T olive oil
1 T flour
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried oregano
1 8 oz can (1 cup) tomato sauce - optional
Dash of salt
In a bowl, combine the dried chilies and boiling water. After the water has cooled and the chilies are nice and soft, pull the stems off and then puree the chilies with the water. In a saucepan, warm up the olive oil a little. If the oil is too hot, you’ll burn the spices. Add the cumin and oregano and cook, stirring constantly, for a couple of minutes until the spices start to sweat. Add the flour and keep stirring until mixed well and you have a nice paste. Add the pureed chilies (and tomato sauce, if you like) and stir until the paste is dissolved. Simmer for 5 minutes. Add a little salt and taste to make sure it‘s right. If you use chili powder, there’s no need to puree anything.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Don't Burn The Soup!
I love World War II history. It may have been a dark period but there are so many lessons to be learned; stories of heroism amidst tragedy abound. Here we are at war again and yet the sacrifices we are making pale in comparison to what The Greatest Generation had to deal with. Millions died, all so one singular man could justify his existence. But enough waxing philosophical. This is a food blog and what better way to celebrate peace and life than to talk about food!
I have always been intrigued by the story of Anne Frank and her book was always on my list of books to read. It never occurred to me to add it to my list of children’s literature for my cookbook, mainly because, contrary to the belief of some extremists, it is not a work of fiction. In fact, it is the only non-fiction book on the list.
Then I saw her diary played out on a special on PBS (Masterpiece Theater, I think? Yeah…no cable means I watch a lot of PBS). I was hooked. Why do we not teach this story in high school? Why is it not required reading for our kids? I had to read Catcher in the Rye, which may have been a classic, but is not nearly as poignant and profound. Especially considering the author was only 13 when she started writing.
So what does this have to do with food? Anne actually talks quite a bit about food, although not in great detail like J.K Rowling or Lemony Snicket did. She talks mostly about things like their eating habits, peeling potatoes, her father’s jam making business or Mr. Dussel secretly hording food. I was extremely delighted when she talked about watching Mr. van Daan making mettwurst, so much so that I have to try it, even if it kills my diet! It’s interesting considering the main meat used in mettwurst is pork. They must not have been all that orthodox, which would explain them celebrating St. Nicholas’ Day. Of course, I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Beans and potatoes were a big staple for them; easily cooked, easily stored and in plentiful supply compared to other rationed foods. They had “brown beans”, which I assume to be pinto, navy beans, and split peas. The split peas intrigued me the most because her mom had put them on the stove and forgot them, not only burning the peas but ruining the pan as well. Oh, how I can relate! I did that to a pot of lentils once. Luckily I managed to save the pan.
Not everyone likes split pea soup and I can understand why. Sometimes it looks like something from the diaper of a sick baby. Sorry. Had to be said. I like mine chunky with big bits of potatoes, carrots, onion and ham. (The soup, not the diaper!) With their rationing I can’t imagine them wasting anything like potatoes and carrots on a soup and being Jewish, the ham is out too.
So, I have two recipes here. One is how I make it at home. The other is how I think Mother Frank would have made it in the Secret Annex’s kitchen.
My Split Pea Soup
1 lb split peas
1 tsp salt
1 ham shank bone
2 quarts vegetable broth
2 quarts water
1 lb diced ham
½ lb German potatoes (red ones - or any kind you like), washed and diced large
½ lb carrots, peeled and diced large
1 onion, diced small
½ tsp liquid smoke
1 T fresh thyme, chopped fine
Salt and pepper to taste
Combine the split peas, ham bone, water and vegetable broth in a large pot. Bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Add the ham, potatoes, carrots, onion and liquid smoke. Cover and simmer for 15-20 minutes or until split peas and potatoes are tender, stirring occasionally. Add the fresh thyme, simmer for about 5 minutes and taste for salt and pepper. Remove the bone before serving.
Mother Frank’s Split Pea Soup
2 lbs split peas
1 onion, diced small
2 cloves garlic, minced fine
1 gallon water
Salt and pepper to taste
Combine everything in a large pot. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat to medium low, cover and cook 50 minutes to one hour, stirring occasionally. Taste for salt and pepper.
Just don't burn the soup!
I have always been intrigued by the story of Anne Frank and her book was always on my list of books to read. It never occurred to me to add it to my list of children’s literature for my cookbook, mainly because, contrary to the belief of some extremists, it is not a work of fiction. In fact, it is the only non-fiction book on the list.
Then I saw her diary played out on a special on PBS (Masterpiece Theater, I think? Yeah…no cable means I watch a lot of PBS). I was hooked. Why do we not teach this story in high school? Why is it not required reading for our kids? I had to read Catcher in the Rye, which may have been a classic, but is not nearly as poignant and profound. Especially considering the author was only 13 when she started writing.
So what does this have to do with food? Anne actually talks quite a bit about food, although not in great detail like J.K Rowling or Lemony Snicket did. She talks mostly about things like their eating habits, peeling potatoes, her father’s jam making business or Mr. Dussel secretly hording food. I was extremely delighted when she talked about watching Mr. van Daan making mettwurst, so much so that I have to try it, even if it kills my diet! It’s interesting considering the main meat used in mettwurst is pork. They must not have been all that orthodox, which would explain them celebrating St. Nicholas’ Day. Of course, I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Beans and potatoes were a big staple for them; easily cooked, easily stored and in plentiful supply compared to other rationed foods. They had “brown beans”, which I assume to be pinto, navy beans, and split peas. The split peas intrigued me the most because her mom had put them on the stove and forgot them, not only burning the peas but ruining the pan as well. Oh, how I can relate! I did that to a pot of lentils once. Luckily I managed to save the pan.
Not everyone likes split pea soup and I can understand why. Sometimes it looks like something from the diaper of a sick baby. Sorry. Had to be said. I like mine chunky with big bits of potatoes, carrots, onion and ham. (The soup, not the diaper!) With their rationing I can’t imagine them wasting anything like potatoes and carrots on a soup and being Jewish, the ham is out too.
So, I have two recipes here. One is how I make it at home. The other is how I think Mother Frank would have made it in the Secret Annex’s kitchen.
My Split Pea Soup
1 lb split peas
1 tsp salt
1 ham shank bone
2 quarts vegetable broth
2 quarts water
1 lb diced ham
½ lb German potatoes (red ones - or any kind you like), washed and diced large
½ lb carrots, peeled and diced large
1 onion, diced small
½ tsp liquid smoke
1 T fresh thyme, chopped fine
Salt and pepper to taste
Combine the split peas, ham bone, water and vegetable broth in a large pot. Bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Add the ham, potatoes, carrots, onion and liquid smoke. Cover and simmer for 15-20 minutes or until split peas and potatoes are tender, stirring occasionally. Add the fresh thyme, simmer for about 5 minutes and taste for salt and pepper. Remove the bone before serving.
Mother Frank’s Split Pea Soup
2 lbs split peas
1 onion, diced small
2 cloves garlic, minced fine
1 gallon water
Salt and pepper to taste
Combine everything in a large pot. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat to medium low, cover and cook 50 minutes to one hour, stirring occasionally. Taste for salt and pepper.
Just don't burn the soup!
Friday, March 5, 2010
Mt Graham Raspberries
Contrary to what Mother Nature would have us believe, Spring is right around the corner. I feel it! (or is that just wishful thinking? It snowed again today.) Ok, so I’m more hoping then anything else. I can honestly say I’m thankful for a global economy and Chilean farmers who work hard to send us produce in the winter. If it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t have most of the produce we see in our supermarkets. If only they could give me fresh watermelon or pumpkins all year long, I’d be very, very happy.
The other day I’m at work and a customer asked for a bowl of raspberries, because the server, in his infinite wisdom, or the lack thereof, told the customer we had some. Now, normally my response would be somewhere along the lines of, “If it’s not on the menu, we don’t have it.” Unfortunately, we had a pint left over from a banquet the day before and unfortunately, I knew that. So I resigned myself to the fact that some people have to be babysat and got some raspberries for the customer.
I couldn’t help myself. I rarely can when it comes to raspberries. I have to have a nibble. I popped one into my mouth. If it wasn’t for great restraint and will-power (yeah, laugh if you will) I would have eaten the whole pint and the customer would have gotten nothing. (Maybe I should have thought of that before!)
The memories! Well, memory at least. Since the early 1900’s my family has owned a cabin on Turkey Flat, high up on Mount Graham, Southeast of Phoenix. We used to go there at least once a year. It was the ultimate retreat.
It didn’t seem to matter what time of year we went, it was all heaven. In April, you can drive farther up the mountain, about half-way between Turkey Flat and Riggs Lake and hike up to a place called Lady Bug Saddle. When you hike up there in April, the rocks and trees take on an almost eerie red hue. Lady bugs. By the millions.
Sometimes we’d go for the 4th of July. If we were lucky the monsoons would come early that year. They usually aren’t due until end of July, early August, but it’s all the same no matter when you go. Every afternoon at 4, like clockwork, the thunder explodes as close as a hundred yards away and the torrential rain sends everyone huddling around the fireplace inside the cabin. That smell of rain mixed with pine is intoxicating.
But there’s one more place, though, the memory of which always comes back to me because of one thing…Raspberries. Wild Raspberries to be precise. The cabin sits on a large flat ridge in the middle of a ravine. There was a trail that led down to the bottom of the ravine and up and along the other side, through a dry river bed and eventually to the main road, coming out to an abandoned building that used to be the old General Store. All along this trail and along the main road are wild strawberries and raspberries. I like strawberries but it’s the raspberries I loved. Sweet and tangy. Perfectly ripe in the summer. I’d pick them all…if my sisters didn’t get to them first.
The other day I’m at work and a customer asked for a bowl of raspberries, because the server, in his infinite wisdom, or the lack thereof, told the customer we had some. Now, normally my response would be somewhere along the lines of, “If it’s not on the menu, we don’t have it.” Unfortunately, we had a pint left over from a banquet the day before and unfortunately, I knew that. So I resigned myself to the fact that some people have to be babysat and got some raspberries for the customer.
I couldn’t help myself. I rarely can when it comes to raspberries. I have to have a nibble. I popped one into my mouth. If it wasn’t for great restraint and will-power (yeah, laugh if you will) I would have eaten the whole pint and the customer would have gotten nothing. (Maybe I should have thought of that before!)
The memories! Well, memory at least. Since the early 1900’s my family has owned a cabin on Turkey Flat, high up on Mount Graham, Southeast of Phoenix. We used to go there at least once a year. It was the ultimate retreat.
It didn’t seem to matter what time of year we went, it was all heaven. In April, you can drive farther up the mountain, about half-way between Turkey Flat and Riggs Lake and hike up to a place called Lady Bug Saddle. When you hike up there in April, the rocks and trees take on an almost eerie red hue. Lady bugs. By the millions.
Sometimes we’d go for the 4th of July. If we were lucky the monsoons would come early that year. They usually aren’t due until end of July, early August, but it’s all the same no matter when you go. Every afternoon at 4, like clockwork, the thunder explodes as close as a hundred yards away and the torrential rain sends everyone huddling around the fireplace inside the cabin. That smell of rain mixed with pine is intoxicating.
But there’s one more place, though, the memory of which always comes back to me because of one thing…Raspberries. Wild Raspberries to be precise. The cabin sits on a large flat ridge in the middle of a ravine. There was a trail that led down to the bottom of the ravine and up and along the other side, through a dry river bed and eventually to the main road, coming out to an abandoned building that used to be the old General Store. All along this trail and along the main road are wild strawberries and raspberries. I like strawberries but it’s the raspberries I loved. Sweet and tangy. Perfectly ripe in the summer. I’d pick them all…if my sisters didn’t get to them first.
Monday, February 15, 2010
The Sacrifices I Make!
The cookbook I have been working on has sent me on a fun and adventurous journey. I’ve been to Hogwarts, Narnia and a little house on the prairie. I’ve fought in the American Revolution, probed the mind of a teenage criminal genius and dealt with a series of unfortunate events. I’ve even been around the world in 80 days and on a wild ride with Mr. Toad.
Many of these adventures include various culinary delights. Some more than others. J.K. Rowling mentions nearly 200 different dishes and treats, a few of which are mentioned at least a dozen times. I hope I don’t ruin the mysticism of Harry’s world by revealing to American kids what English kids already knew - almost all of the food mentioned in the series is real. Even chocolate frogs are real. Just don’t expect them to jump.
The French and Italians have complained about English cuisine for centuries. Seeing how American cuisine was created from the foundation of English cooking, you’d think I’d say something to defend “Mother England” from a callous culinary beating from the continent. I mean really, the French eat frogs and snails, and I mean real frogs, not the chocolate kind! Who are they to complain about English food? I think all countries have something to offer from both ends of the spectrum. Can you say, “chitlin’s?” I try not to.
So, I’m reading an English classic by C.S. Lewis - a little tome called The Chronicles of Narnia - when I come across the part where young Lucy has lunch with Mr. Tummins the fawn. You have to read the book (the movie, while very well done, doesn’t mention what they ate besides tea) to get the menu. Listed on this menu - sardines on toast.
Sardines. Really. Apparently this is a common tea-time snack in England. It’s a tiny fish, usually smoked and stuffed into tiny tin cans. But you already knew that. What you probably didn’t know was how they tasted. Fishy. There ya go. All done. Ya think? Nope. I’ve never eaten sardines before. I’ve played sardines, but not eaten them and for good reason. I love fish, but I draw the line at cat food.
My grandfather Clarence served his LDS mission in Germany and came home with a love for the “stinky fish” as my grandmother would call it. She compromised and allowed him one tin a year at Christmastime. Now that’s love! But seriously, that’s like me loving sushi after spending two years in Japan. At least sushi doesn’t stink.
But I had to try it. I can’t write about it and try and convince kids to eat it if I haven’t ever tried it. I could play the George Carlin card and say, “It came to me in a dream!” But that would be cheating. So, off I went to the grocery store. It took me ten seconds to find them and ten minutes to check my wussy gut at the door and bring myself to pull a tin off the shelf. I bet I looked like that guy in the Carl’s JR commercial who can’t decide what kind of ground beef to buy. In the end, I picked four different tins. Yup. Four. I amaze myself sometimes. The four that I picked were - plain, marinated in Louisiana Hot Sauce, marinated in mustard and skinless/boneless.
All in all, it wasn’t bad. Just wasn’t good, either. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m not a big fan of smoked fish of any kind. I prefer mine fresh. Maybe it was the skin and tiny backbones. I’m kind of “anti -“ on that front. Maybe it was the smell, which, no matter what it was marinated in or what I did to it (I tried to make a kind of “tuna-fish” type mess with the skinless ones, but it didn’t help), the smell always seemed to permeate up through my nostrils with every bite.
Maybe my love for fresh fish is the defining hurdle in the adventure. Maybe I should go to Italy and try me some un-smoked sardines fresh from the warm Mediterranean Sea. Nah. They eat it with the head still on.
How am I going to get kids to eat this? Let me rephrase that. How am I going to get American kids to eat this? Maybe I’ll just say, “C.S. Lewis has sardines on toast in his book and J.K. Rowling has kippers in hers (same thing, sort of, as sardines). If you can handle it, more power to ya! As for me, I’ll stick to tuna.”
Many of these adventures include various culinary delights. Some more than others. J.K. Rowling mentions nearly 200 different dishes and treats, a few of which are mentioned at least a dozen times. I hope I don’t ruin the mysticism of Harry’s world by revealing to American kids what English kids already knew - almost all of the food mentioned in the series is real. Even chocolate frogs are real. Just don’t expect them to jump.
The French and Italians have complained about English cuisine for centuries. Seeing how American cuisine was created from the foundation of English cooking, you’d think I’d say something to defend “Mother England” from a callous culinary beating from the continent. I mean really, the French eat frogs and snails, and I mean real frogs, not the chocolate kind! Who are they to complain about English food? I think all countries have something to offer from both ends of the spectrum. Can you say, “chitlin’s?” I try not to.
So, I’m reading an English classic by C.S. Lewis - a little tome called The Chronicles of Narnia - when I come across the part where young Lucy has lunch with Mr. Tummins the fawn. You have to read the book (the movie, while very well done, doesn’t mention what they ate besides tea) to get the menu. Listed on this menu - sardines on toast.
Sardines. Really. Apparently this is a common tea-time snack in England. It’s a tiny fish, usually smoked and stuffed into tiny tin cans. But you already knew that. What you probably didn’t know was how they tasted. Fishy. There ya go. All done. Ya think? Nope. I’ve never eaten sardines before. I’ve played sardines, but not eaten them and for good reason. I love fish, but I draw the line at cat food.
My grandfather Clarence served his LDS mission in Germany and came home with a love for the “stinky fish” as my grandmother would call it. She compromised and allowed him one tin a year at Christmastime. Now that’s love! But seriously, that’s like me loving sushi after spending two years in Japan. At least sushi doesn’t stink.
But I had to try it. I can’t write about it and try and convince kids to eat it if I haven’t ever tried it. I could play the George Carlin card and say, “It came to me in a dream!” But that would be cheating. So, off I went to the grocery store. It took me ten seconds to find them and ten minutes to check my wussy gut at the door and bring myself to pull a tin off the shelf. I bet I looked like that guy in the Carl’s JR commercial who can’t decide what kind of ground beef to buy. In the end, I picked four different tins. Yup. Four. I amaze myself sometimes. The four that I picked were - plain, marinated in Louisiana Hot Sauce, marinated in mustard and skinless/boneless.
All in all, it wasn’t bad. Just wasn’t good, either. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m not a big fan of smoked fish of any kind. I prefer mine fresh. Maybe it was the skin and tiny backbones. I’m kind of “anti -“ on that front. Maybe it was the smell, which, no matter what it was marinated in or what I did to it (I tried to make a kind of “tuna-fish” type mess with the skinless ones, but it didn’t help), the smell always seemed to permeate up through my nostrils with every bite.
Maybe my love for fresh fish is the defining hurdle in the adventure. Maybe I should go to Italy and try me some un-smoked sardines fresh from the warm Mediterranean Sea. Nah. They eat it with the head still on.
How am I going to get kids to eat this? Let me rephrase that. How am I going to get American kids to eat this? Maybe I’ll just say, “C.S. Lewis has sardines on toast in his book and J.K. Rowling has kippers in hers (same thing, sort of, as sardines). If you can handle it, more power to ya! As for me, I’ll stick to tuna.”
Monday, January 18, 2010
Those tamales had better be good!
So here we are, the beginning of a new year. I suppose I could be thrilled what with a “clean slate” and all, but considering what happened New Years Eve, I’m thinking I may want to stay in bed for a year. Or two. Rip van Winkle’s looking a right genius about now. (Ok, I watch too much British TV!) Nothing bad happened that night, really. Yes, I had to work, but I was out of there by 11:30. No problem. Wasn’t going anywhere anyway. It was the food that ruined it all.
As in any restaurant, ours has it’s own group of Latinos. I say ‘Latino’ because I learned, the hard way unfortunately, that not all of them are from Mexico. Anyway, one of the Ladies brought in a batch of tamales that she had worked on all day the previous day. I was excited. Being from Arizona I’ve had my share of freshly steamed tamales. And good ones too! These were not good ones.
First, they were chicken, which is not a bad thing, really. Tamales can be stuffed with anything. But pork is traditional and best. However, it is necessary to make sure the chicken is skinless, boneless, and most importantly, grizzle-less. Nothing ruins a gastronomic experience more than biting into something inedible like cartilage. The chicken was bland too. No seasoning whatsoever. And that wasn’t even the worst part. It was the first time I had ever had tamales wrapped in banana leaves instead of corn husks.
Now, I can see using banana leaves if you were stuffing your tamales with Jamaican jerk chicken, or, dare I say, bananas. It just didn’t work for me. The masa had almost a slimy texture with an aftertaste of banana that I can only assume came from the leaves. It was not a flavor I was expecting in a savory dish. If I was doing a kind of Baja style tamale stuffed with papaya and shrimp, now that would be good wrapped in banana leaves!
But, like I said, I’m used to the more traditional tamales stuffed with pork, or in Spanish, carnitas. I’m talking about the kind that cooks for hours and hours. In the U.S.‘s Deep South, pork roasts are smoked at about 225-250° for at least six hours or so, until it falls apart to the touch. I like to wrap my seasoned roasts twice in plastic wrap (Don’t worry. The plastic doesn’t melt) and twice more in foil and then I roast it in the oven for six hours.
Another way is to put the pork in a large heavy pot, add one orange, cut in half, one white onion, peeled and cut in half and either three or four dried chipotle chilies, or, if you want some heat, a whole can of chipotles. You then add just enough cola to cover the pork. Any cola will do. Even Dr. Pepper! I once used Cherry Coke. You can also use root beer or just plain water with a cup of brown sugar. Bring this all to a boil, cover and reduce the heat to low and cook for three hours. Carefully pull the pork out (it will fall apart!) and shred it with some forks, throwing away any grizzle. Drain the liquid and return the pulled pork to marinade for a day.
Now for the masa. Masa harina can now be found in any supermarket in the Mexican aisle. It’s not just any kind of flour, but is actually finely ground corn meal. Here’s a recipe my mother learned from some Mexican friends in our Phoenix neighborhood.
4 ½ C masa harina
½ tsp cumin
1 T red chili powder
3 C broth (beef, chicken or veg or a combo)
1 C lard or shortening (not butter!)
2 tsp salt
4 tsp baking powder
In a large bowl, combine the first four ingredients together. In a mixer, beat together the remaining three ingredients. Add the masa mixture and continue to beat until smooth.
Soak the corn husks in warm water for 20-30 minutes. When the masa is ready, pat the husks dry. Spread a spoonful of the masa on the husks and place a little pork down the middle. Carefully wrap the husks, pulling the ends in like a burro (I say burro, not burrito!). Stand the tamales up on end in a steamer and steam for 30 minutes.
You can make this easier by spreading some masa and pork on a sheet of greased wax paper and rolling it up and chilling it for a few hours. Then you just unroll it and cut it into pieces big enough for the husks. Less messy that way, I think!
Here’s a variation that I think would have worked well with banana leaves : use blue corn meal instead of masa harina, 2 T brown sugar instead of cumin and chili powder, and fruit instead of pork. Try some prickly pear cactus fruit! Bananas would be ok....I suppose
As in any restaurant, ours has it’s own group of Latinos. I say ‘Latino’ because I learned, the hard way unfortunately, that not all of them are from Mexico. Anyway, one of the Ladies brought in a batch of tamales that she had worked on all day the previous day. I was excited. Being from Arizona I’ve had my share of freshly steamed tamales. And good ones too! These were not good ones.
First, they were chicken, which is not a bad thing, really. Tamales can be stuffed with anything. But pork is traditional and best. However, it is necessary to make sure the chicken is skinless, boneless, and most importantly, grizzle-less. Nothing ruins a gastronomic experience more than biting into something inedible like cartilage. The chicken was bland too. No seasoning whatsoever. And that wasn’t even the worst part. It was the first time I had ever had tamales wrapped in banana leaves instead of corn husks.
Now, I can see using banana leaves if you were stuffing your tamales with Jamaican jerk chicken, or, dare I say, bananas. It just didn’t work for me. The masa had almost a slimy texture with an aftertaste of banana that I can only assume came from the leaves. It was not a flavor I was expecting in a savory dish. If I was doing a kind of Baja style tamale stuffed with papaya and shrimp, now that would be good wrapped in banana leaves!
But, like I said, I’m used to the more traditional tamales stuffed with pork, or in Spanish, carnitas. I’m talking about the kind that cooks for hours and hours. In the U.S.‘s Deep South, pork roasts are smoked at about 225-250° for at least six hours or so, until it falls apart to the touch. I like to wrap my seasoned roasts twice in plastic wrap (Don’t worry. The plastic doesn’t melt) and twice more in foil and then I roast it in the oven for six hours.
Another way is to put the pork in a large heavy pot, add one orange, cut in half, one white onion, peeled and cut in half and either three or four dried chipotle chilies, or, if you want some heat, a whole can of chipotles. You then add just enough cola to cover the pork. Any cola will do. Even Dr. Pepper! I once used Cherry Coke. You can also use root beer or just plain water with a cup of brown sugar. Bring this all to a boil, cover and reduce the heat to low and cook for three hours. Carefully pull the pork out (it will fall apart!) and shred it with some forks, throwing away any grizzle. Drain the liquid and return the pulled pork to marinade for a day.
Now for the masa. Masa harina can now be found in any supermarket in the Mexican aisle. It’s not just any kind of flour, but is actually finely ground corn meal. Here’s a recipe my mother learned from some Mexican friends in our Phoenix neighborhood.
4 ½ C masa harina
½ tsp cumin
1 T red chili powder
3 C broth (beef, chicken or veg or a combo)
1 C lard or shortening (not butter!)
2 tsp salt
4 tsp baking powder
In a large bowl, combine the first four ingredients together. In a mixer, beat together the remaining three ingredients. Add the masa mixture and continue to beat until smooth.
Soak the corn husks in warm water for 20-30 minutes. When the masa is ready, pat the husks dry. Spread a spoonful of the masa on the husks and place a little pork down the middle. Carefully wrap the husks, pulling the ends in like a burro (I say burro, not burrito!). Stand the tamales up on end in a steamer and steam for 30 minutes.
You can make this easier by spreading some masa and pork on a sheet of greased wax paper and rolling it up and chilling it for a few hours. Then you just unroll it and cut it into pieces big enough for the husks. Less messy that way, I think!
Here’s a variation that I think would have worked well with banana leaves : use blue corn meal instead of masa harina, 2 T brown sugar instead of cumin and chili powder, and fruit instead of pork. Try some prickly pear cactus fruit! Bananas would be ok....I suppose
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