RANT, Part 2: shrimp and vegetable gruel

I guess because of its association with movies like "Oliver," or its use in Victorian novels as food for the poor, when we read the word "gruel," I think we turn away just as a matter of habit.
Not a good thing. Arguably, some of the foods we love the most, like couscous, are in fact, "gruels." Consider this definition:

Gruel is a food preparation consisting of some type of cereal—oat, wheat or rye flour, or also rice—boiled in water or milk.

Sound familiar? Bet it does. To some people, like the Guyman, gruels are comfort food. I think everyone has some version of a "gruel" in his or her comfort food warehouse.

I am fascinated by them because they break the rules that you learn for cooking grains. You know those rules: 2 parts (or 3 parts or 4 parts), liquid to solid. The ratios in gruels go way over that, sometimes going up to as much as sixteen to 1 (although that's a REALLY liquid product). So when I saw a recipe, referred to as a "stew," but clearly identifiable as a gruel, in the cookbook from which came the rhubarb sorbet, I was intrigued. It had shrimp, peas, pea shoots, and Asian spices in it, all of which are big favorites at our home. It was in fact the first recipe I was drawn to in the book, and even though I had my doubts, I made it "according to Hoyle" as they say.

Annalena should follow her own advice. If you know it's wrong, don't do it. I did it anyway. It was ok, but not terrific. Guyman dutifully ate two helpings, but he was very hungry.

So, this weekend I tried it again, MY way. It is much better this way. I will detail it for you, and I will tell you how I varied from the original. Mix and match as you like.

You start with one pound of peeled, deveined shrimp. There's no reason to get the beauties: medium sized shrimp (there are about 40 of them to a pound), are fine. Cut them in half, either lengthwise, or horizontally (the original called for half a pound of shrimp, which had to be wild shrimp, and cutting them into quarters. In my opinion, the quartered shrimp just disappeared, giving you no sense of "shrimpiness." And wild shrimp are with us about a week of the year. If you can get them frozen, you'd pay a king's ransom. Also, interestingly enough, I learned that farmed shrimp are less harmful to the environment than fishing for wild ones. The things you learn).

You then "salt wash" these guys. THis is a technique I did not know. Mix the shrimp with 1.5 teaspoons of salt. Rub it into the shrimp, and let them sit for ten minutes or so, then wash them clean with cold water. The salt, apparently, gets any other impurities out that the deveining didn't.

Mix these guys with a half cup (recipe says quarter cup), of fish sauce, and two minced shallots. You really do need the fish sauce here, so bite the bullet and buy a bottle. You'll be glad you did. Let this all sit at room temperature for an hour.

During that time, get a cup (recipe called for half a cup ) of long grained rice (I used texmati), and put it into one of those burr coffee grinders. Let 'er rip for about ten seconds. You'll get rice grains that are about a third of the size of the regular rice.

Next, you need two quarts of liquid. Here, the recipe called for water. First time around, I made peapod broth, and mixed it with water, half and half. Last time, I used chicken stock, cut half and half with water. It's really your choice as to what liquids to use, but keep in mind that the liquid is going to be a big source of the flavor.

We're ready to cook. Put two tablespoons of vegetable oil in a big pot. When it's hot, add the shrimp and shallot mixture, without draining it, and stir it around until the shrimp take on a translucent or pink color. At that point, add the rice, and then the liquid. When the stuff begins to boil, lower the heat, and let it cook at barely a simmer, for 40 minutes or so. Check to make sure things aren't sticking during that cooking time.

The rice is going to release a lot of starch, since you've broken it up and the rice will also start sucking up the liquid, but it's never going to be solid, like a standard pot of rice looks. That's ok, that's not what you want here. If you taste it, it should be soft.

Now add three cups of vegetables. Originally, the recipe called for peas, and they're great, but mix it up. I used a mix of peas and asparagus the second time around, with the asparagus chopped to about the size of a pea. Let this cook for a good 4 minutes, and then add about 3 cups of pea shoots, or some other soft green (you could use water cress, arugula, anything you want), and big handfuls of either basil (recipe), or Thai basil (my variation), or anything you like. I would stick to the mint family here, and keep in mind that all basils are mints.

Taste it. You will probably think it needs salt. Put the salt down and add more fish sauce, and then serve it forth, in bowls, with spoons.

Those of you familiar with Asian food are going to notice resemblances to congee, or juk, depending on whether you're of Northern or Southern Chinese descent.

This doesn't keep well, so if you have extra, have a second bowl. THere's not much there calorie wise, and it's all good.

It's a nice addition to the repertoire. I won't be ashamed to serve it to company