Annalena was NOT planning to write you a story tonite. Well, she was planning to write you one this afternoon, and about something much different from this. We shall return to that tomorrow, perhaps when the Guyman is doing his Thursday evening run. She has just come out of the kitchen with a success, however, that needs sharing, very much. And it is for all of you folks out there who want to make bread, but who are terrified of yeast (can we see a show of hands? Don't be shy now. Ah, Sue, you've been quiet lately. Annalena is watching and she KNOWS you're there. Put up that hand).
OK, good. Well, Annalena was reading an article that did in fact bring tears to her eyes. See, the premise of the article was to give chefs of whom you have heard a budget equivalent to the average budget that a family has to spend on dinner for four, when they are at the poverty level (it is a shocking figure), and ask them to fashion a menu. (Annalena cries as she writes this, thinking of it). Well, the results were quite amazing. Some, to be honest, were so involved and took so long that Annalena cannot see a harried parent making them. But this? Oh, heavens yes. And it is something in which you can involve your children, if you like. At least up until the last step, which Annalena recommends you do NOT have your children do. You will understand why.
We are all familiar with our family of yeast breads. BUT... so, too, are we familiar with flat breads which do not use yeast. If you have ever eaten a tortilla, a cracker, a chapati, you have eaten a yeast free bread. Annalena is sure you can think of many more. Biscuits, for example? Scones? Hmmmm???? Well, to the point, one of Annalena's heroes, Alice Waters, produce a meal of squash soup, humus, and these wonderful flatbreads. Please make them. And PLEASE think of the people in this world who go hungry when you do, and perhaps put aside some money to help them eat as well as you do.
Your ingredients are two cups of whole wheat flour, a cup of water, a teaspoon of salt, a half teaspoon of baking powder, and three tablespoons of olive oil.
Yes, that is it. Now, this is what you do. In a bowl, mix the flour, salt, baking powder, and put it aside for a minute, while you combine 3/4 cup of the water, and the olive oil. Now, pour in the flour mixture, and then get your hands in there and mix it up. If the flour is not picked up completely, add the rest of the water, and if it is STILL dry, wet your hands, and then go back and mix it some more. Knead it a bit, but not too long. Then, put the ball of dough in a bowl, cover it, and let it rest for half an hour.
Get out a BIG heavy frying pan: the bigger the better here. Then, get the dough, and divide it into sixteen pieces. The easiest way to do this, in Annalena's experience, is to divide it into halves, then fourths, eighths, and finally, sixteenths. Put a little flour on a surface, and roll out the dough balls. They need not be, and should not be, even. This is as rustic as rustic gets. Roll them thin. Heat up your pan (no oil, please), and add the pieces of dough, putting in as many as you can, without overlapping. Cook them at medium heat, for anywhere from one -two minutes. The dough will darken in spots. When that happens, turn them over and cook the other side. And keep on doing this, until you have all sixteen cooked.
Up until this point, you could involve your children. Now, however, you may want to send them off, if you use this optional, but highly recommended step. Take the pan from the flame, but keep the flame itself on. Using tongs, hold each flatbread over the flame, for five seconds per side. They will crisp up, char a little, and they will cook unevenly. Again, this is what you want.
You wind up with something halfway between a cracker and a pita bread, with wonderful flavor and good nutrition. DO serve it with humus, or just plain, or with butter, or with any of the million other dips you can make. Even a can of beans, if you must, drained, with some fresh herbs and olive oil.
Nourishing, and also fun. This could easily become your "go to" party food. So , ragazzi, "go to" it, and tomorrow, we will make lamb stew, Iberian style.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Clouds of spice: Maharajah curry carrot soup
There is a profusion of soup recipes on this site, isn't there? Annalena loves making soup, and as she and the Guyman generally sit down to a supper built around soup, once a week, that may not be surprising. Lest you think the world of soup is inexhaustable, be advised that it is, but it isn't. One can make a soup out of just about anything. Think of that wonderful didactic story you learned as a child, "stone soup," and if you haven't, have someone tell it to you right now.
The fact that you CAN make a soup, however, does not mean that it will be a GOOD soup. Annalena has seen some soup recipes that , to her taste, border on the unforgiveable, and others that should be destroyed immediately. In the former camp, something like parsnip apple soup simply makes the many hairs on her back stand up. In the latter camp, Annalena once saw a recipe for raspberry/beet/fennel soup. OFF WITH ITS HEAD.
Then there are soups which sound good on paper, but need some care in their execution. This soup falls into that category. On paper, the combination of curry and carrot sounds, at least to Annalena, quite wonderful. If you imagine the aroma, and even the taste, of curry, against the deep sweetness of carrots, you will probably see the combination.
It can turn into one of the nastiest taste combinations imaginable. Curry is easy to work with if (i) you understand it and (ii) you use the correct curry, because using a word like "curry" is like using the word "bread." Do not assume that what you think is curry, is ALL curry. What Annalena learned, is that one has things like "sweet curry," "hot curry" and the one that is the subject of this soup recipe "Maharajah curry." Given that the recipe called specifically for this type of curry (which Annalena knew of, from Penzey's spices, but assumed was their proprietary blend), she went searching and learned.... this is one of those things where everyone who uses "Maharajah" curry seems to know what it is, but no one says WHAT it is. That makes sense, doesn't it? Annalena was looking to find out what is in Maharajah curry that distinguishes it from, e.g, "sweet" curry, or "Hot" curry or just plain "curry." She will tell you what she learned from making the soup, however, as we go along. Would the soup be as good with another curry? A very fair question to which Annalena does not have the answer. It may be worth trying.
Here is what you will need: 1.5 cups, each, of chopped onions and celery. Also, 2 pounds of carrots, cleaned and chopped roughly (use the big, monstrous soup carrots here. The ones that are too big to eat, and would give Bugs Bunny pause). Also, six cups of liquid, be it chicken stock, water, vegetable stock, or combinations thereof (Annalena used her standard of a quart of chicken stock and 2 cups of water). You will also need two tablespoons of vegetable oil (should you choose to be totally traditional, use ghee), and three teaspoons of Maharajah curry, divided into a 2 teaspoon, and a one teaspoon measure . (This division is why Annalena does not prescribe a tablespoon).
Let us now get to work. Put the oil in a big soup pot, and heat it at medium heat. Then, add your onions, the celery, a teaspoon of salt and the two teaspoons of curry powder.
Key to unleashing curry powder's flavor, is the heating step. As Annalena has noted before, "frying" spices is very key to both Indian, and Mexican cooking. Stir the vegetables and spices together until the powder begins to stick, and the onions go translucent. It will not take long.
The first lesson Annalena learned from this experience, was that the Maharajah curry seemed to have a more sophisticated, more complex, "finer" aroma than other curries, which usually strike her as being a bit acrid. You know how, when you go into an Indian restaurant, you are often struck by what Annalena calls "Indian food smell," the aroma that gets into your clothes and does not dissipate? That is the smell of burned tumeric, the yellow stuff in curry. It is cheap, and that is why so much of it is used, and when it burns, it lingers. While it was clear that there was tumeric in this curry, that effect was not in evidence here.
Ok, now add your carrots, and stir them to coat them with oil, and some of the curry. It seems to make the soup tastier if you do this, seemingly extra step. Now add your liquids, bring the material to a boil, and then lower the heat and simmer, for about 20-30 minutes.
With large carrots, the vegetables will soften, but they will maintain their shape. And you may very well feel yourself on the horns of a dilemma here, as Annalena did. At the end of the cooking, the soup looked so good, Annalena wished to leave it just as it was, as a chunky vegetable soup. But carrot soup is ALWAYS pureed, and she was very interested in how the color would evolve. So, Annalena added the other teaspoon of curry (it is interesting to have the play of cooked and raw spices in a dish), let the thing cool, and then pureed it to smoothness.
The soup has a rich velvety texture to it, and you might be able to fool someone into thinking there is dairy product in it, but of course, there is not.
Should you use vegetable stock, or water, you will have a vegan soup, and a completely vegan meal, if you serve it with the whole wheat flatbreads which Annalena will be presenting to you later this week.
You may wish to adorn this soup any way you like. In her youth, Annalena would add roasted peanuts to carrot soup. That sounds fine, but seems to defeat the Indian idea here. You may want to make it more protein nutritious with chickpeas, or a dollop of hummus or something along those ends, and get the same effect. Sweeter elements will work, like raisins, if you like sweeter soups (Annalena does not).
In any event, you will get close to two quarts of soup from this recipe.
And... let's go through the ingredients: chicken stock or water, carrots, onions, celery, a tablespoon of curry powder. Not too expensive, huh? Does it seem hard to make? We thought not.
Track down some curry, Maharajah or other type, and make this soup. As we make the transition from winter to spring, it is a good tonic for what ails you.
The fact that you CAN make a soup, however, does not mean that it will be a GOOD soup. Annalena has seen some soup recipes that , to her taste, border on the unforgiveable, and others that should be destroyed immediately. In the former camp, something like parsnip apple soup simply makes the many hairs on her back stand up. In the latter camp, Annalena once saw a recipe for raspberry/beet/fennel soup. OFF WITH ITS HEAD.
Then there are soups which sound good on paper, but need some care in their execution. This soup falls into that category. On paper, the combination of curry and carrot sounds, at least to Annalena, quite wonderful. If you imagine the aroma, and even the taste, of curry, against the deep sweetness of carrots, you will probably see the combination.
It can turn into one of the nastiest taste combinations imaginable. Curry is easy to work with if (i) you understand it and (ii) you use the correct curry, because using a word like "curry" is like using the word "bread." Do not assume that what you think is curry, is ALL curry. What Annalena learned, is that one has things like "sweet curry," "hot curry" and the one that is the subject of this soup recipe "Maharajah curry." Given that the recipe called specifically for this type of curry (which Annalena knew of, from Penzey's spices, but assumed was their proprietary blend), she went searching and learned.... this is one of those things where everyone who uses "Maharajah" curry seems to know what it is, but no one says WHAT it is. That makes sense, doesn't it? Annalena was looking to find out what is in Maharajah curry that distinguishes it from, e.g, "sweet" curry, or "Hot" curry or just plain "curry." She will tell you what she learned from making the soup, however, as we go along. Would the soup be as good with another curry? A very fair question to which Annalena does not have the answer. It may be worth trying.
Here is what you will need: 1.5 cups, each, of chopped onions and celery. Also, 2 pounds of carrots, cleaned and chopped roughly (use the big, monstrous soup carrots here. The ones that are too big to eat, and would give Bugs Bunny pause). Also, six cups of liquid, be it chicken stock, water, vegetable stock, or combinations thereof (Annalena used her standard of a quart of chicken stock and 2 cups of water). You will also need two tablespoons of vegetable oil (should you choose to be totally traditional, use ghee), and three teaspoons of Maharajah curry, divided into a 2 teaspoon, and a one teaspoon measure . (This division is why Annalena does not prescribe a tablespoon).
Let us now get to work. Put the oil in a big soup pot, and heat it at medium heat. Then, add your onions, the celery, a teaspoon of salt and the two teaspoons of curry powder.
Key to unleashing curry powder's flavor, is the heating step. As Annalena has noted before, "frying" spices is very key to both Indian, and Mexican cooking. Stir the vegetables and spices together until the powder begins to stick, and the onions go translucent. It will not take long.
The first lesson Annalena learned from this experience, was that the Maharajah curry seemed to have a more sophisticated, more complex, "finer" aroma than other curries, which usually strike her as being a bit acrid. You know how, when you go into an Indian restaurant, you are often struck by what Annalena calls "Indian food smell," the aroma that gets into your clothes and does not dissipate? That is the smell of burned tumeric, the yellow stuff in curry. It is cheap, and that is why so much of it is used, and when it burns, it lingers. While it was clear that there was tumeric in this curry, that effect was not in evidence here.
Ok, now add your carrots, and stir them to coat them with oil, and some of the curry. It seems to make the soup tastier if you do this, seemingly extra step. Now add your liquids, bring the material to a boil, and then lower the heat and simmer, for about 20-30 minutes.
With large carrots, the vegetables will soften, but they will maintain their shape. And you may very well feel yourself on the horns of a dilemma here, as Annalena did. At the end of the cooking, the soup looked so good, Annalena wished to leave it just as it was, as a chunky vegetable soup. But carrot soup is ALWAYS pureed, and she was very interested in how the color would evolve. So, Annalena added the other teaspoon of curry (it is interesting to have the play of cooked and raw spices in a dish), let the thing cool, and then pureed it to smoothness.
The soup has a rich velvety texture to it, and you might be able to fool someone into thinking there is dairy product in it, but of course, there is not.
Should you use vegetable stock, or water, you will have a vegan soup, and a completely vegan meal, if you serve it with the whole wheat flatbreads which Annalena will be presenting to you later this week.
You may wish to adorn this soup any way you like. In her youth, Annalena would add roasted peanuts to carrot soup. That sounds fine, but seems to defeat the Indian idea here. You may want to make it more protein nutritious with chickpeas, or a dollop of hummus or something along those ends, and get the same effect. Sweeter elements will work, like raisins, if you like sweeter soups (Annalena does not).
In any event, you will get close to two quarts of soup from this recipe.
And... let's go through the ingredients: chicken stock or water, carrots, onions, celery, a tablespoon of curry powder. Not too expensive, huh? Does it seem hard to make? We thought not.
Track down some curry, Maharajah or other type, and make this soup. As we make the transition from winter to spring, it is a good tonic for what ails you.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Going bananas for: simple banana cake
Annalena believes that this is a situation most of you have experienced. You buy a big bunch of bananas at the beginning of the week for whatever reason: they're on sale. You plan to eat lots of cereal with bananas. In her case, Annalena bought them because her trainer warned her that with the new workout program, yogurt would come up as fast as it went down, and something ore solid, like a banana and peanut butter would be better.
So, Annalena needed two bananas and bought six. She also learned you can buy peanut butter in those wonderful little squeeze packages, and avoid the need to have a large jar at your desk, with a knife in it that you can sample during the day and convince yourself that it's a healthy snack.
You see what the Guyman has to deal with?
Ok, but for whatever reason you have them around, at some point, you have leftover bananas, getting nice and ripe and soft, and possibly attracting an errant fruit fly or 12. What do you do?
Well, when Annalena gives you overripe bananas, make banana cake. NOT banana bread, mind you, which is wonderful,but is a sorry excuse for piling lots of fattening things, like nuts, chocolate chips, oil, etc, into it, and saying it's healthy. For some reason, we all fall into the trap that things like banana bread, zucchini bread, etc, are good for us. Uh, no. Oddly enough, if you put the same ingredients together, and call it a CAKE, that phenomenon does not seem to happen (wonder why: for example, you would be MUCH more willing to fess up to eating banana bread, or a banana muffin for breakfast than you would a slice of banana cake. Compare the recipes sometime? HMMMM?)
So, ok, this is a dessert recipe, plain and simple, developed because Annalena things in the reverse way that is normal at times. See, normally, when someone is planning a cake for dessert, they make the cake, or choose the cake and then say "what ice cream goes with it?" Here, Annalena had the ice creams: nutella and peanut butter, first. "What cake goes with that?" Actually, she began with "what do you serve WITH those ice creams?" The Guyman wanted to know why anything else was necessary, which is a fair question. But Annalena tossed that question aside. Bananas seem the appropriate thing to go with chocolate and peanut butter, and Annalena was thinking pie. Banana cream pie, with ice cream, seemed a bit much. Bananas foster? Annalena plans to drink at this dinner, and does not want to leave the kitchen looking like Fafner (look it up). So cake was the way, and she turned to a recipe by her long gone and much missed cooking mentor, Richard Sax.
According to Richard (note that she uses the first person here. That's the level of familiarity she had with this man), when he ran his catering company, regardless of what else was on the menu, people wanted this dessert. Who can blame them? For reasons that all of us will understand, but probably not explain, banana desserts go to the "heart." They feel like "home.' Well, let's go home, and make some banana cake.
Very easy, this recipe. Here we go. You need to have a stick and a half of butter , unsalted, and left out to room temperature, together with three eggs. Large ones. You also need to mix together 2.5 cups of flour. Richard used cake flour, Annalena uses all purpose. Mix it together with 1.5 teaspoons of each of baking powder and baking soda, and one of salt. Also, 1.5 cups of white sugar. Annalena broke into her stash of vanilla sugar for this, and omitted the teaspoon of vanilla extract. To her taste, the vanilla sugar does not mask the banana, the way the extract does. Penultimately, you will need 1/4 cup of a "solid" dairy product: yogurt, sour cream, or, as Annalena used, creme fraiche (because that's what she had, and she didn't want to rip open a container of yogurt for 2 ounces of it).
Finally, the bananas. Richar called for a "generous 3/4 cup of mashed bananas, from two large ones.' Ok, here is where the practicalities of Annalena come to the fore. To her sensibilities, a "generous 3/4 cup" is a cup. The bananas need to be mashed. Annalena mashed hers in a food processor. She had four medium sized organic ones, and figured she would use the extra for something else.
She got 1.25 cups of mashed banana. No extra. This cake will taste strongly of bananas.
Cooking note: mash your bananas as close to bake time as possible. They brown if you let them sit.
Get out your mixer, and start creaming the butter until it's soft. Then add the sugar and keep on moving. It will look hopeless for a few minutes, but then it will incorporate and look lovely, as you then add the eggs, one at a time, and get a golden, soft, wet mess.
Turn off the mixer, and add half the flour. Turn it back on at LOW and incorporate it. Then add all of the bananas and repeat. Again, turn off the machine, add the rest of the flour, and incorporate, and finally, add the dairy.
Take the wrappers from the butter, and grease a 10 inch pan. This may be a tube pan, a fluted one, a standard baking pan, or even a spring form, if it's fairly leak free (none are completely leak free, but this is a solid batter). Get that into the oven, and bake it for 50/55/60 minutes. Test the center with a straw or a knife edge or something.
When the cake cools, if you like, you may frost it, hopefully with something you make at home. Annalena would be tempted to frost if she were not serving ice cream. With ice cream, however, just warm the cake a very little bit, and serve it forth.
Combinations? Well, yes. The cake can handle chips of some kind, nuts, raisins, craisins, dates, but not too many. Let your banana goddess express herself in this cake.
You should also keep in mind that, since you are working with a fruit puree, you could do this with anything you like that is pureed. Annalena is thinking passion fruit, or mango, or even pineapple in the future.
Sounds good, don't it?
So, Annalena needed two bananas and bought six. She also learned you can buy peanut butter in those wonderful little squeeze packages, and avoid the need to have a large jar at your desk, with a knife in it that you can sample during the day and convince yourself that it's a healthy snack.
You see what the Guyman has to deal with?
Ok, but for whatever reason you have them around, at some point, you have leftover bananas, getting nice and ripe and soft, and possibly attracting an errant fruit fly or 12. What do you do?
Well, when Annalena gives you overripe bananas, make banana cake. NOT banana bread, mind you, which is wonderful,but is a sorry excuse for piling lots of fattening things, like nuts, chocolate chips, oil, etc, into it, and saying it's healthy. For some reason, we all fall into the trap that things like banana bread, zucchini bread, etc, are good for us. Uh, no. Oddly enough, if you put the same ingredients together, and call it a CAKE, that phenomenon does not seem to happen (wonder why: for example, you would be MUCH more willing to fess up to eating banana bread, or a banana muffin for breakfast than you would a slice of banana cake. Compare the recipes sometime? HMMMM?)
So, ok, this is a dessert recipe, plain and simple, developed because Annalena things in the reverse way that is normal at times. See, normally, when someone is planning a cake for dessert, they make the cake, or choose the cake and then say "what ice cream goes with it?" Here, Annalena had the ice creams: nutella and peanut butter, first. "What cake goes with that?" Actually, she began with "what do you serve WITH those ice creams?" The Guyman wanted to know why anything else was necessary, which is a fair question. But Annalena tossed that question aside. Bananas seem the appropriate thing to go with chocolate and peanut butter, and Annalena was thinking pie. Banana cream pie, with ice cream, seemed a bit much. Bananas foster? Annalena plans to drink at this dinner, and does not want to leave the kitchen looking like Fafner (look it up). So cake was the way, and she turned to a recipe by her long gone and much missed cooking mentor, Richard Sax.
According to Richard (note that she uses the first person here. That's the level of familiarity she had with this man), when he ran his catering company, regardless of what else was on the menu, people wanted this dessert. Who can blame them? For reasons that all of us will understand, but probably not explain, banana desserts go to the "heart." They feel like "home.' Well, let's go home, and make some banana cake.
Very easy, this recipe. Here we go. You need to have a stick and a half of butter , unsalted, and left out to room temperature, together with three eggs. Large ones. You also need to mix together 2.5 cups of flour. Richard used cake flour, Annalena uses all purpose. Mix it together with 1.5 teaspoons of each of baking powder and baking soda, and one of salt. Also, 1.5 cups of white sugar. Annalena broke into her stash of vanilla sugar for this, and omitted the teaspoon of vanilla extract. To her taste, the vanilla sugar does not mask the banana, the way the extract does. Penultimately, you will need 1/4 cup of a "solid" dairy product: yogurt, sour cream, or, as Annalena used, creme fraiche (because that's what she had, and she didn't want to rip open a container of yogurt for 2 ounces of it).
Finally, the bananas. Richar called for a "generous 3/4 cup of mashed bananas, from two large ones.' Ok, here is where the practicalities of Annalena come to the fore. To her sensibilities, a "generous 3/4 cup" is a cup. The bananas need to be mashed. Annalena mashed hers in a food processor. She had four medium sized organic ones, and figured she would use the extra for something else.
She got 1.25 cups of mashed banana. No extra. This cake will taste strongly of bananas.
Cooking note: mash your bananas as close to bake time as possible. They brown if you let them sit.
Get out your mixer, and start creaming the butter until it's soft. Then add the sugar and keep on moving. It will look hopeless for a few minutes, but then it will incorporate and look lovely, as you then add the eggs, one at a time, and get a golden, soft, wet mess.
Turn off the mixer, and add half the flour. Turn it back on at LOW and incorporate it. Then add all of the bananas and repeat. Again, turn off the machine, add the rest of the flour, and incorporate, and finally, add the dairy.
Take the wrappers from the butter, and grease a 10 inch pan. This may be a tube pan, a fluted one, a standard baking pan, or even a spring form, if it's fairly leak free (none are completely leak free, but this is a solid batter). Get that into the oven, and bake it for 50/55/60 minutes. Test the center with a straw or a knife edge or something.
When the cake cools, if you like, you may frost it, hopefully with something you make at home. Annalena would be tempted to frost if she were not serving ice cream. With ice cream, however, just warm the cake a very little bit, and serve it forth.
Combinations? Well, yes. The cake can handle chips of some kind, nuts, raisins, craisins, dates, but not too many. Let your banana goddess express herself in this cake.
You should also keep in mind that, since you are working with a fruit puree, you could do this with anything you like that is pureed. Annalena is thinking passion fruit, or mango, or even pineapple in the future.
Sounds good, don't it?
Friday, February 24, 2012
Fixing a recipe while you learn how to pickle: quick chicken with pickled meyer lemons
Annalena believes that one of the toughest things to learn, when you cook, is that you simply cannot trust a written recipe. And by that, she does not mean the classic stories of "Aunt Edna" who, when pressed, would give up her secret cookie recipe, but leave out an ingredient. No, no, no. Annalena speaks of recipes that have the best of intentions in mind, but simply cannot account for what she will call "relativity," for lack of a better word.
If Annalena asked ten people to go to a stove and turn the flame to "medium," she would get at least five different degrees of heat. If she told you to pull out a skillet, you may pull out a six inch one, while someone else would pull out a ten inch one, etc. And to be honest, there is absolutely no way of resolving these issues, especially in the non-baking arena. Bakers, given the need for precision in their craft, are in fact more precise, but even so: "let rise for two hours, or until doubled." Well, if it's not doubled in two hours... Or "knead firmly until smooth." What is smooth?
Annalena has these thoughts in mind because of a recipe she prepared last evening, which did not come out as it should have. That is because she followed the recipe, but also, because the recipe was not as precise as it might have been. As an experienced cook, Annalena should have caught this; however, she did not. The dish turned out ok, but it should have been much better. Here it comes, with corrections from her experience.
We start by making a very quick, lemon pickle. Now, you have all, at this point in your lives, heard of Moroccan preserved lemons, yes? If you haven't, please google them. They are not difficult to make, and they are extremely useful, but if you do not have them, and a recipe calls for them, what do you do?
Well, that is what caught Annalena's eye about the recipe, and indeed, this does produce a very reasonable version of the wonderful, slow aged preserved lemons that look disgusting but taste wonderful. Let's get to work.
For this recipe, you will need 1-1.5 pounds of boneless, skinless, chicken breast. You will also need two meyer lemons (you can use regular lemons if you like, but try to get these. Get the contact info of Kim, the Citrus bombshell from Annalena if you want REALLY good ones), and two leeks, two cloves of garlic, some rosemary, and olive oil, salt and pepper.
First thing you do, is cut the chicken breast into strips, or chunks. Toss it together with a tablespoon of chopped rosemary (or, thyme, or both), a tablespoon of oil, a teaspoon of salt, and a teaspoon of fresh ground pepper . Put this to the side.
Get a pot of water going. No salt the first time around, and while it's coming to boil, slice the meyer lemons . You will want 7-8 slices per lemon. Drop them into the boiling water, for five minutes, no longer. Get them out and drain them. You'll see that the peel has gotten a bit translucent, and the pulp will have virtually disappeared.
Now, empty that pot, and add just one cup of water, with two tablespoons of sugar, and a teaspoon of salt. Add the lemons, bring it to a boil, and simmer for three minutes. Then, drain everything, and let those lemons dry. You can use paper towel here.
If you taste one, you will get a flavor very strongly reminiscent of the aged guys.
Slice up your leeks, and chop your garlic. Now, we're ready to cook, and this is where you have to be careful, as Annalena learned.
According to the recipe, you add two tablespoons of oil to a hot skillet, such that "the oil shimmers almost immediately." That will not happen. Heat it until you do begin to see a shimmer. To get that effect, however, you need the right sized skillet. This was not clear from the recipe, and Annalena used her BIG skillet. DO NOT go any larger than 8 inches around here. IF you do, you will scorch things. (Don't ask how Annalena knows this). Add the lemons, and, contrary to what the original recipe says, do not wait for them to carmelize. Indeed, the recipe carried a picture and those lemons were NOT carmelized. Rather, let them cook for about a minute or two, and then add the leeks and stir everything together, for another two minutes. Again, if you use a very large skillet, you will burn the leeks (again, don't ask). Finally, add the garlic, and cook for half a minute.
Now, at this point, the recipe clearly states that you should push the vegetable mixture to the side, and add the chicken, which you will then cook for ten minutes.
Annalena has two comments here. If you leave those vegetables in for another ten minutes, again, you will have more than your fair share of carmelization. And if you cook the chicken, cut up as it is, for ten minutes, you will have cooked , indeed, OVERCOOKED, chicken. So, ragazzi, Annalena suggests that you pull those veggies and lemons out, and move them to a bowl. Add another tablespoon of oil to the pan, and add the chicken. Annalena agrees with leaving the chicken alone for 3-4 minute so that a good sear develops, but not with cooking it for another five minutes, "until it's no longer pink." That will happen in 2 minutes. When it does, add the vegetables back, toss everything together and, if you happen to be lucky enough to have a third meyer lemon, squeeze the juice over everything (Annalena cannot recommend a regular lemon here: too sour).
This is, ultimately, an easy dish to prepare, and it is not all that obnoxious, nutritionally. There are four tablespoons of oil in it, and you COULD stretch this to four portions, with adequate vegetables and starch. No one can object to boneless chicken breasts, and again, it's a good dish.
Try it. Get in touch with Ms. Bomb. And let Annalena know how it worked for you.
If Annalena asked ten people to go to a stove and turn the flame to "medium," she would get at least five different degrees of heat. If she told you to pull out a skillet, you may pull out a six inch one, while someone else would pull out a ten inch one, etc. And to be honest, there is absolutely no way of resolving these issues, especially in the non-baking arena. Bakers, given the need for precision in their craft, are in fact more precise, but even so: "let rise for two hours, or until doubled." Well, if it's not doubled in two hours... Or "knead firmly until smooth." What is smooth?
Annalena has these thoughts in mind because of a recipe she prepared last evening, which did not come out as it should have. That is because she followed the recipe, but also, because the recipe was not as precise as it might have been. As an experienced cook, Annalena should have caught this; however, she did not. The dish turned out ok, but it should have been much better. Here it comes, with corrections from her experience.
We start by making a very quick, lemon pickle. Now, you have all, at this point in your lives, heard of Moroccan preserved lemons, yes? If you haven't, please google them. They are not difficult to make, and they are extremely useful, but if you do not have them, and a recipe calls for them, what do you do?
Well, that is what caught Annalena's eye about the recipe, and indeed, this does produce a very reasonable version of the wonderful, slow aged preserved lemons that look disgusting but taste wonderful. Let's get to work.
For this recipe, you will need 1-1.5 pounds of boneless, skinless, chicken breast. You will also need two meyer lemons (you can use regular lemons if you like, but try to get these. Get the contact info of Kim, the Citrus bombshell from Annalena if you want REALLY good ones), and two leeks, two cloves of garlic, some rosemary, and olive oil, salt and pepper.
First thing you do, is cut the chicken breast into strips, or chunks. Toss it together with a tablespoon of chopped rosemary (or, thyme, or both), a tablespoon of oil, a teaspoon of salt, and a teaspoon of fresh ground pepper . Put this to the side.
Get a pot of water going. No salt the first time around, and while it's coming to boil, slice the meyer lemons . You will want 7-8 slices per lemon. Drop them into the boiling water, for five minutes, no longer. Get them out and drain them. You'll see that the peel has gotten a bit translucent, and the pulp will have virtually disappeared.
Now, empty that pot, and add just one cup of water, with two tablespoons of sugar, and a teaspoon of salt. Add the lemons, bring it to a boil, and simmer for three minutes. Then, drain everything, and let those lemons dry. You can use paper towel here.
If you taste one, you will get a flavor very strongly reminiscent of the aged guys.
Slice up your leeks, and chop your garlic. Now, we're ready to cook, and this is where you have to be careful, as Annalena learned.
According to the recipe, you add two tablespoons of oil to a hot skillet, such that "the oil shimmers almost immediately." That will not happen. Heat it until you do begin to see a shimmer. To get that effect, however, you need the right sized skillet. This was not clear from the recipe, and Annalena used her BIG skillet. DO NOT go any larger than 8 inches around here. IF you do, you will scorch things. (Don't ask how Annalena knows this). Add the lemons, and, contrary to what the original recipe says, do not wait for them to carmelize. Indeed, the recipe carried a picture and those lemons were NOT carmelized. Rather, let them cook for about a minute or two, and then add the leeks and stir everything together, for another two minutes. Again, if you use a very large skillet, you will burn the leeks (again, don't ask). Finally, add the garlic, and cook for half a minute.
Now, at this point, the recipe clearly states that you should push the vegetable mixture to the side, and add the chicken, which you will then cook for ten minutes.
Annalena has two comments here. If you leave those vegetables in for another ten minutes, again, you will have more than your fair share of carmelization. And if you cook the chicken, cut up as it is, for ten minutes, you will have cooked , indeed, OVERCOOKED, chicken. So, ragazzi, Annalena suggests that you pull those veggies and lemons out, and move them to a bowl. Add another tablespoon of oil to the pan, and add the chicken. Annalena agrees with leaving the chicken alone for 3-4 minute so that a good sear develops, but not with cooking it for another five minutes, "until it's no longer pink." That will happen in 2 minutes. When it does, add the vegetables back, toss everything together and, if you happen to be lucky enough to have a third meyer lemon, squeeze the juice over everything (Annalena cannot recommend a regular lemon here: too sour).
This is, ultimately, an easy dish to prepare, and it is not all that obnoxious, nutritionally. There are four tablespoons of oil in it, and you COULD stretch this to four portions, with adequate vegetables and starch. No one can object to boneless chicken breasts, and again, it's a good dish.
Try it. Get in touch with Ms. Bomb. And let Annalena know how it worked for you.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Can you hear me now? Conch fritters
"Me" in this case, ragazzi, is the sea: Thalassa, the great mother. Annalena hopes to blue blazes that people still give their children seashells to hold up to their ears, to hear the sea just roaring through the shell. Ah, it reminds Annalena of the GOOD parts of going to the beach. And she hopes that, in some homes, there are still those big, somewhat goofy but also somewhat lovely, pink conch shells decorating the house, and gathering dust, souvenirs from a trip, somewhere.
Annalena has one of those shells. Not from a trip to Florida, or to the south seas, where these are most prevalent, but from a store in San Francisco, during one of the more memorable visits: the trip of 1989. The one where Annalena SOBBED for an hour that she didn't wanna go home. Sometimes, she still doesn't.
Oh, so where is this diatribe leading us? To conch. Annalena always pronounces the final h, so it's like "couch" with an "n" in it, but her betters tell her it's pronounced like "Konk", that sound that Batman and Robin used to produce in balloons on their old TV show. (Did you have a crush on Robin growing up? Annalena always went for older, but in this case).
OK, another digression ended. Here on the East Coast, we do in fact have conch, but they are smaller than those big specimens spoken about above. Nonetheless, they are here, and they are meaty and delicious and... very cheap. This week, at the fishmarket, Annalena could have purchased flounder, for 14.00 a pound, or scallops, at 17.00 a pound, or conch, at 5.50 a pound. She bought the conch, because she wanted something different. Jan, the miraculous lady of the fishes, lamented that all she had was fresh.
Now, this is an important point ragazzi, because conch is VERY tough. Freezing, and thawing it, tenderize it in a way that you cannot achieve other than by pounding it with a mallet, for long periods of time or... grinding it. And as Annalena had grinding (CONCH!!!) on her mind (actually, Poseidon himself, aka Wade), was there as well so perhaps grinding...)
Forgive her, ragazzi, Annalena is having a very trying day today and she needs her espresso. Truth is, Annalena makes conch pasta (scungilli in her mother tongue), with spicy tomato sauce, but that was not on the menu for the day. No, no no, Annalena had fried conch fritters in mind. And to make these, you need to grind up the conch meat.
Annalena learned, later that day, that in Florida, conch fritters and their preparation, are sort of like other foods elsewhere. They are taken VERY seriously, people protect their recipes, and there is much in fighting as to who makes the best. Annalena can get into this kind of thing, you know. Hers may not have been the best ever, but for a first time through, they were very good. And here is how she made them.
You start with one pound of conch meat. This will probably come in very large pieces, so cut it into cubes. Surgical precision is not necessary, but you want it to be small enough so that your food processor will handle it, because that's where it's going. Do it in two batches if you need to, and pulse it, until you have a mix that looks like rough chopped meat. Put this into a bowl, and then add one finely diced onion, a teaspoon or so of salt, a half teaspoon of cayenne pepper, some finely ground black pepper, three eggs, and a half cup of panko bread crumbs. Mix this all together and take a bit and taste it. If it's not salty enough, add more. Again, as we have learned recently with crab, shellfish is frequently NOT salty. And if you prefer your fritters spicier, add some more hot spices. This is yet another one of those recipes, where you have to improvise. Look at the mix. Does it seem too wet? If it does, add some more panko. Mix it all together, and cover the bowl. Put it in the refrigerator for at least three hours to firm up and chill.
This is going to make about 20 nice sized fritters, and if you want to do them fast, Annalena suggests that you put two pans along side of each other, and fill them with about 1/4 inch deep of a neutral vegetable oil. Heat these, over medium high heat, until the oil is good and hot. You can test this by dropping a small bit of the mix into the oil, and seeing if the stuff crisps up. When it does, get a big tablespoon, and lop heaping spoons of the batter into the oil. "Lop" may be a bad verb here. Be gentle putting them in, so that you don't spatter. They will cook quickly: no more than two minutes to a side. Have a paper lined tray ready, and put them on after you've browned the critter/fritters on both sides.
Annalena made a tartar sauce of mayonnaise and mixed green spices, with a bit of hot pepper in it. You can do this as well, or you can serve them with slices of lemon and lime , or you can make your own dipping sauce. Whatever you do, try to eat them as soon as they come out of the pan as possible.
Not fond of looking for conch? Well, then start with two cups of clams. Here, while Annalena abjures canned goods, you might try using a good variety of canned clams, unless you are in the mood to shuck, shuck, shuck.
This is probably not something you're going to want to eat every night, or even every week, but I bet you'll integrate it into your cooking, so that you have it once in a while. Make them, try them, and go for it. Who doesn't like fried food?
Annalena has one of those shells. Not from a trip to Florida, or to the south seas, where these are most prevalent, but from a store in San Francisco, during one of the more memorable visits: the trip of 1989. The one where Annalena SOBBED for an hour that she didn't wanna go home. Sometimes, she still doesn't.
Oh, so where is this diatribe leading us? To conch. Annalena always pronounces the final h, so it's like "couch" with an "n" in it, but her betters tell her it's pronounced like "Konk", that sound that Batman and Robin used to produce in balloons on their old TV show. (Did you have a crush on Robin growing up? Annalena always went for older, but in this case).
OK, another digression ended. Here on the East Coast, we do in fact have conch, but they are smaller than those big specimens spoken about above. Nonetheless, they are here, and they are meaty and delicious and... very cheap. This week, at the fishmarket, Annalena could have purchased flounder, for 14.00 a pound, or scallops, at 17.00 a pound, or conch, at 5.50 a pound. She bought the conch, because she wanted something different. Jan, the miraculous lady of the fishes, lamented that all she had was fresh.
Now, this is an important point ragazzi, because conch is VERY tough. Freezing, and thawing it, tenderize it in a way that you cannot achieve other than by pounding it with a mallet, for long periods of time or... grinding it. And as Annalena had grinding (CONCH!!!) on her mind (actually, Poseidon himself, aka Wade), was there as well so perhaps grinding...)
Forgive her, ragazzi, Annalena is having a very trying day today and she needs her espresso. Truth is, Annalena makes conch pasta (scungilli in her mother tongue), with spicy tomato sauce, but that was not on the menu for the day. No, no no, Annalena had fried conch fritters in mind. And to make these, you need to grind up the conch meat.
Annalena learned, later that day, that in Florida, conch fritters and their preparation, are sort of like other foods elsewhere. They are taken VERY seriously, people protect their recipes, and there is much in fighting as to who makes the best. Annalena can get into this kind of thing, you know. Hers may not have been the best ever, but for a first time through, they were very good. And here is how she made them.
You start with one pound of conch meat. This will probably come in very large pieces, so cut it into cubes. Surgical precision is not necessary, but you want it to be small enough so that your food processor will handle it, because that's where it's going. Do it in two batches if you need to, and pulse it, until you have a mix that looks like rough chopped meat. Put this into a bowl, and then add one finely diced onion, a teaspoon or so of salt, a half teaspoon of cayenne pepper, some finely ground black pepper, three eggs, and a half cup of panko bread crumbs. Mix this all together and take a bit and taste it. If it's not salty enough, add more. Again, as we have learned recently with crab, shellfish is frequently NOT salty. And if you prefer your fritters spicier, add some more hot spices. This is yet another one of those recipes, where you have to improvise. Look at the mix. Does it seem too wet? If it does, add some more panko. Mix it all together, and cover the bowl. Put it in the refrigerator for at least three hours to firm up and chill.
This is going to make about 20 nice sized fritters, and if you want to do them fast, Annalena suggests that you put two pans along side of each other, and fill them with about 1/4 inch deep of a neutral vegetable oil. Heat these, over medium high heat, until the oil is good and hot. You can test this by dropping a small bit of the mix into the oil, and seeing if the stuff crisps up. When it does, get a big tablespoon, and lop heaping spoons of the batter into the oil. "Lop" may be a bad verb here. Be gentle putting them in, so that you don't spatter. They will cook quickly: no more than two minutes to a side. Have a paper lined tray ready, and put them on after you've browned the critter/fritters on both sides.
Annalena made a tartar sauce of mayonnaise and mixed green spices, with a bit of hot pepper in it. You can do this as well, or you can serve them with slices of lemon and lime , or you can make your own dipping sauce. Whatever you do, try to eat them as soon as they come out of the pan as possible.
Not fond of looking for conch? Well, then start with two cups of clams. Here, while Annalena abjures canned goods, you might try using a good variety of canned clams, unless you are in the mood to shuck, shuck, shuck.
This is probably not something you're going to want to eat every night, or even every week, but I bet you'll integrate it into your cooking, so that you have it once in a while. Make them, try them, and go for it. Who doesn't like fried food?
Monday, February 20, 2012
Crabby pasta
The title, ragazzi, says it all. You're going to love this dish. I promise. And you're going to love something I tell you about it. Maybe a few things.
I'm not sure if the world breaks down into people who love lobster and hate crab, and those who love crab and hate lobster, or if there are intersects. Annalena cannot put lobster past her nose. Perhaps it is her peasant roots. But she LOVES crab. (Note that she did NOT say "crabs" so as to avoid any association with those foul parasites).
One of the things that Annalena learned this week, much to her surprise, and delight, is that crab is very low in calories. She is serious about that. Unadulterated crab meat (please note the adjective), has but 30 calories an ounce. Did you know that? Annalena certainly did not. You cannot eat a gum drop for 30 calories. So, if you control the "adulteration" (not an easy feat, Annalena admits), you have a low calorie, high protein food.
Please note that Annalena is speaking of REAL crab, not surimi, that disgusting product of fish by products that is molded and dyed red to resemble crab , and fails in so doing (as it does in taste).
You can secure crab in a number of ways, and depending upon your intended purpose for the product, you should choose one or the other. Of course, you can start with WHOLE crabs. Annalena must tell you, these are a trial to work with. They are fun, and the eating is communal, informal, and wonderful, but they are messy, live crabs are feisty, and you do have to dispatch them. Annalena likes to serve whole dungeness crab, perhaps the Emperor of all crabs. They weigh several pounds, have a very high meat yield (there is not that much meat in a crab), and have a very rich tasting meat. You may also use a variety such as the blue claw (most common here in the East), a Jonah crab or, what Annalena used this week, a "rock crab." (for this discussion, we are omitting stone crab claws. We are discussing the entire beast, or its meat). There are also king crab legs (a whole King crab will scare you and you do NOT have a pot large enough to cook it. Trust Annalena on this. And they are tougher than you), snow crab (a waste of money), and other forms. For most of us, however, we will go to the meat.
Choices abound here. Lump crabmeat is very expensive. This is the large pieces that come from whole claws. When your dish relies on visual appeal, like a crab cocktail, or something along those lines, this is what you use, and you prepare to spend upwards of 30.00 a pound.
Backfin crab, slightly less expensive, comes in smaller chunks. Again, where visual appeal is key, this is a variety to use.
We are not concerned with this in crabby pasta, and you use the cheapest variety, which comes under several names. "Cheapest" is a relative term, however, and you should still plan on 15-20 dollars a pound.
Why so much money? AH. If you did, what Annalena did, this weekend, you would know why. Confronted with four rock crabs from her buddies, the Karlins, she decided to pick the meat out. A half hour, a few damaged feelings, a hammer, two rolling pins, and a lot of clean up later, Annalena was the owner of 12 ounces of not so clean crab meat. Those four crabs probably weighed about five pounds in total.
Is it necessary to go on? So, perhaps you should buy your crabmeat prepared already, unless you want the one time challenge of this.
And once you have your crabmeat, here is how we prepare this pasta dish. You need one large leek, or two medium ones, a cup of peas, a half pound of crab meat, a half pound of fresh pasta, two tablespoons of butter, and one tablespoon of olive oil.
Melt one tablespoon of that butter with the oil in a large pan. Alongside of it, prepare a large pot of boiling water. When the butter has melted, add the sliced leek (use the white and pale green parts only. If you need to wash them, do). Saute' them at medium heat until they just begin to soften. Then add the peas. Stir this all together. Add the crabmeat and stir it all together. Taste, and adjust the salt. You WILL need to add salt. A common mistake made with seafood, is the belief that, since it comes from salt water, it is salty. All of these critters are equipped with organs which remove the salt that enters their body. Indeed, most shellfish is less salty than meat (there are biochemical reasons for that which Annalena shall explain to you offline if you like).
Now, drop the half pound of pasta (and whilst Annalena suggests fresh pasta for this, you can use dry, of course), bring the water back to the boil, and cook it to your desired state of al dente. Fresh pasta will take less than five minutes. A good quality dried pasta, maybe ten. Drain the pasta, toss it into that large pan with the other goodies, and stir it together.
Remember that extra tablespoon of butter? Now's your chance. Go ahead. You deserve it. It's a festive meal, made healthy by the peas, and since Annalena has absolved you from guilt on the calories from crab, add it. If you're making this for two people, it appears you are still in rather safe waters for calories for a meal, and if for three (and they'd best be small appetites), you are definitely on the lean side.
And you know what? If you have measured all your ingredients aforehand, you shall have dinner on the table, in fifteen minutes. Go back through the recipe, and count.
Please do not put grated cheese on this dish. There is ample opportunity to put cheese on crab in other, non-Italianate preparations, but please try this first. If you must put pearls on the lady, Ananlena suggests that you slice up a jalapeno pepper or two, and stir that in with the dish. She also suggests that your pasta be one of the shorter ones, like ziti, or penne, or something along those lines.
All one really needs with this meal is a light green salad. Perhaps endive with sliced kumquats or something along those lines?
Do enjoy this. Yes, it is expensive, but now that we are all hearing of the 20.00 starbucks drinks we can purchase if we choose, and with the price of popcorn in a movie theatre being WHAT???? stay home and make a good meal. You will reward yourself and your loved ones.
Baci e alla prossima
I'm not sure if the world breaks down into people who love lobster and hate crab, and those who love crab and hate lobster, or if there are intersects. Annalena cannot put lobster past her nose. Perhaps it is her peasant roots. But she LOVES crab. (Note that she did NOT say "crabs" so as to avoid any association with those foul parasites).
One of the things that Annalena learned this week, much to her surprise, and delight, is that crab is very low in calories. She is serious about that. Unadulterated crab meat (please note the adjective), has but 30 calories an ounce. Did you know that? Annalena certainly did not. You cannot eat a gum drop for 30 calories. So, if you control the "adulteration" (not an easy feat, Annalena admits), you have a low calorie, high protein food.
Please note that Annalena is speaking of REAL crab, not surimi, that disgusting product of fish by products that is molded and dyed red to resemble crab , and fails in so doing (as it does in taste).
You can secure crab in a number of ways, and depending upon your intended purpose for the product, you should choose one or the other. Of course, you can start with WHOLE crabs. Annalena must tell you, these are a trial to work with. They are fun, and the eating is communal, informal, and wonderful, but they are messy, live crabs are feisty, and you do have to dispatch them. Annalena likes to serve whole dungeness crab, perhaps the Emperor of all crabs. They weigh several pounds, have a very high meat yield (there is not that much meat in a crab), and have a very rich tasting meat. You may also use a variety such as the blue claw (most common here in the East), a Jonah crab or, what Annalena used this week, a "rock crab." (for this discussion, we are omitting stone crab claws. We are discussing the entire beast, or its meat). There are also king crab legs (a whole King crab will scare you and you do NOT have a pot large enough to cook it. Trust Annalena on this. And they are tougher than you), snow crab (a waste of money), and other forms. For most of us, however, we will go to the meat.
Choices abound here. Lump crabmeat is very expensive. This is the large pieces that come from whole claws. When your dish relies on visual appeal, like a crab cocktail, or something along those lines, this is what you use, and you prepare to spend upwards of 30.00 a pound.
Backfin crab, slightly less expensive, comes in smaller chunks. Again, where visual appeal is key, this is a variety to use.
We are not concerned with this in crabby pasta, and you use the cheapest variety, which comes under several names. "Cheapest" is a relative term, however, and you should still plan on 15-20 dollars a pound.
Why so much money? AH. If you did, what Annalena did, this weekend, you would know why. Confronted with four rock crabs from her buddies, the Karlins, she decided to pick the meat out. A half hour, a few damaged feelings, a hammer, two rolling pins, and a lot of clean up later, Annalena was the owner of 12 ounces of not so clean crab meat. Those four crabs probably weighed about five pounds in total.
Is it necessary to go on? So, perhaps you should buy your crabmeat prepared already, unless you want the one time challenge of this.
And once you have your crabmeat, here is how we prepare this pasta dish. You need one large leek, or two medium ones, a cup of peas, a half pound of crab meat, a half pound of fresh pasta, two tablespoons of butter, and one tablespoon of olive oil.
Melt one tablespoon of that butter with the oil in a large pan. Alongside of it, prepare a large pot of boiling water. When the butter has melted, add the sliced leek (use the white and pale green parts only. If you need to wash them, do). Saute' them at medium heat until they just begin to soften. Then add the peas. Stir this all together. Add the crabmeat and stir it all together. Taste, and adjust the salt. You WILL need to add salt. A common mistake made with seafood, is the belief that, since it comes from salt water, it is salty. All of these critters are equipped with organs which remove the salt that enters their body. Indeed, most shellfish is less salty than meat (there are biochemical reasons for that which Annalena shall explain to you offline if you like).
Now, drop the half pound of pasta (and whilst Annalena suggests fresh pasta for this, you can use dry, of course), bring the water back to the boil, and cook it to your desired state of al dente. Fresh pasta will take less than five minutes. A good quality dried pasta, maybe ten. Drain the pasta, toss it into that large pan with the other goodies, and stir it together.
Remember that extra tablespoon of butter? Now's your chance. Go ahead. You deserve it. It's a festive meal, made healthy by the peas, and since Annalena has absolved you from guilt on the calories from crab, add it. If you're making this for two people, it appears you are still in rather safe waters for calories for a meal, and if for three (and they'd best be small appetites), you are definitely on the lean side.
And you know what? If you have measured all your ingredients aforehand, you shall have dinner on the table, in fifteen minutes. Go back through the recipe, and count.
Please do not put grated cheese on this dish. There is ample opportunity to put cheese on crab in other, non-Italianate preparations, but please try this first. If you must put pearls on the lady, Ananlena suggests that you slice up a jalapeno pepper or two, and stir that in with the dish. She also suggests that your pasta be one of the shorter ones, like ziti, or penne, or something along those lines.
All one really needs with this meal is a light green salad. Perhaps endive with sliced kumquats or something along those lines?
Do enjoy this. Yes, it is expensive, but now that we are all hearing of the 20.00 starbucks drinks we can purchase if we choose, and with the price of popcorn in a movie theatre being WHAT???? stay home and make a good meal. You will reward yourself and your loved ones.
Baci e alla prossima
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The stuff left behind: cauliflower stem salad
I hope the title got your interest. This is a dish which was inspired by a similar one which the Guyman and Annalena ate at Barbuto.
Years ago, at a sermon, Annalena heard a preacher say something which has stayed with her for well over 20 years "relationships are a lot like cooking vegetables. You work, and work, and at the end there's SO much you just have to throw away, and then, you have to hope what's left is good. And we all still eat our vegetables so there's something good there."
Indeed. Not to be glib, but relationships as an artichoke. It is NOT after all a bad image.
And those of us who cook vegetables do have to concede that, when all is said and done, there is much waste. We wish there were something we could do with that "compost,"and sometimes there is. But it is more work. For example, Annalena uses the pods of green peas to make broth. So, too, with corn cobs. But try as she may, Annalena has not found a use for fava bean pods. Or eggplant skin (which, she knows is edible, but...). And so on and so forth.
Now, for many of us, the vegetables aforementioned are not part or our regular repertoire. It is too easy to purchase preprepared artichokes, for example, or frozen peas, kernel corn, and so forth. But then there are others, like broccoli and cauliflower where, while one CAN buy a bag of preprepared, raw florets, we wonder: (or at least we should): how old are they? And of course, when one compares the price of the florets to the whole vegetable, one may pause and reconsider (recently, Annalena saw broccoli florets at 3.99 for a 12 ounce package. Broccoli was on sale at 2 bunches for 5.00. So, too, with cauliflower).
What does one do with those stems from these cruciferous vegetables? Soup comes to mind, but let us be honest: how many of us are going to stash away the stems of the vegetables until we get around to making soup, and who among us stands in the kitchen, trying desperately to make dinner and get it on the table and says "Hmmm. Broccoli stems. I KNOW. I'll make soup."
Any of you who put up a hand, is lying. Annalena knows.
So, when Barbuto served Annalena a "crudo" of cauliflower, she was intrigued. See, when the plate came to the table, it was not florets. It was very thinly sliced... stems. Other ingredients were in it, as we shall discuss below, but Annalena was struck by the practical brilliance of using those stems to make something that was delicious. She had cauliflower in her refrigerator, and as soon as possible, got to work re-creating the dish. And here is her version.
You need a piece of kitchen equipment which Annalena urges you to buy and to BE CAREFUL with. This is a "benriner." A benriner, for lack of a better description, is a mandoline for beginners. Mandolines, if you see them in serious gourmet kitchens or in restaurants, are very large, heavy, machines which are designed to allow you to slice things very thinly. They cost upwards of 200.00, come with instructions that are written in French or in laughable translations, and rust if you let them get wet.
Enter the benriner, which is plastic, does not do ALL the mandoline does, but does the trick of thin slicing. It comes with a hand guard. PLEASE USE IT until you get the hang of it, and follow the "Zen of kitchen" approach when making this. For those unfamiliar with this, the Zen of Kitchen states, simply "when you cook the rice, cook the rice."
Wakarimasu ka? Understand? PAY ATTENTION WHEN YOU USE THESE. Annalena has a lovely friend who lost part of her thumb by not. But Annalena uses the device every week, and has not injured herself. And they cost no more than about 40.00.
Get out your new toy, and the stems of a large bunch of cauliflower. Cut away the florets and use them for something else (you know what to do with them). Run the stems over the slicing blade of the benriner, and you will come away with very small, thin, white slices of cauliflower. Proceed slowly at first, but as you get the hang of it (it is easy), you can move faster, and will probably mow through that bunch of cauliflower in all of about five or ten minutes.
While you are slicing away, put a cup of walnuts into the oven, at 350, and toast them. For walnuts, they are ready when you smell the toasty nuttiness. Protect your hand, take them out, and pour them into a bowl (do not let them stay on the baking sheet. They will continue to cook, and may burn).
Now, get some cheese: Annalena prefers pecorino romano, because cauliflower is a vegetable she associates with southern Italy, and this is a Southern cheese. If you prefer parmigiano, or something else, please feel free. You will want half to 3/4 cup of this.
Finally, make a STRONG acid dressing. What does this mean? Well,most of the salad dressings you will encounter in restaurants, or make, will use the classic recipe of 1 part acid (vinegar, lemon juice, etc), to three parts oil. It will also use half a teaspoon of salt for every half cup of dressing you are making. In a dressing for this salad, increase the amount of acid. Perhaps not to 1:2, but somewhere in between 1/3 and 1/2, and up the salt. Taste the dressing as you're going along, keeping in mind that there are some very bland flavors here, and a large volume.
When you are ready, put the cauliflower into a bowl, and pour the dressing over it. Toss it, and then add the walnuts, and toss them. Finally, sprinkle the cheese over everything. No tossing now.
And you're done. If you happen to have some croutons, but of course. Or, if there's a fennel bulb in your fridge begging to be used, gratify it and stir it in, after you prep it the same way you did the cauliflower.
You may very well find yourself asking "what am I to do with the florets?" Indeed, Annalena found herself vexed by this very question. Reader, I pickled them
Years ago, at a sermon, Annalena heard a preacher say something which has stayed with her for well over 20 years "relationships are a lot like cooking vegetables. You work, and work, and at the end there's SO much you just have to throw away, and then, you have to hope what's left is good. And we all still eat our vegetables so there's something good there."
Indeed. Not to be glib, but relationships as an artichoke. It is NOT after all a bad image.
And those of us who cook vegetables do have to concede that, when all is said and done, there is much waste. We wish there were something we could do with that "compost,"and sometimes there is. But it is more work. For example, Annalena uses the pods of green peas to make broth. So, too, with corn cobs. But try as she may, Annalena has not found a use for fava bean pods. Or eggplant skin (which, she knows is edible, but...). And so on and so forth.
Now, for many of us, the vegetables aforementioned are not part or our regular repertoire. It is too easy to purchase preprepared artichokes, for example, or frozen peas, kernel corn, and so forth. But then there are others, like broccoli and cauliflower where, while one CAN buy a bag of preprepared, raw florets, we wonder: (or at least we should): how old are they? And of course, when one compares the price of the florets to the whole vegetable, one may pause and reconsider (recently, Annalena saw broccoli florets at 3.99 for a 12 ounce package. Broccoli was on sale at 2 bunches for 5.00. So, too, with cauliflower).
What does one do with those stems from these cruciferous vegetables? Soup comes to mind, but let us be honest: how many of us are going to stash away the stems of the vegetables until we get around to making soup, and who among us stands in the kitchen, trying desperately to make dinner and get it on the table and says "Hmmm. Broccoli stems. I KNOW. I'll make soup."
Any of you who put up a hand, is lying. Annalena knows.
So, when Barbuto served Annalena a "crudo" of cauliflower, she was intrigued. See, when the plate came to the table, it was not florets. It was very thinly sliced... stems. Other ingredients were in it, as we shall discuss below, but Annalena was struck by the practical brilliance of using those stems to make something that was delicious. She had cauliflower in her refrigerator, and as soon as possible, got to work re-creating the dish. And here is her version.
You need a piece of kitchen equipment which Annalena urges you to buy and to BE CAREFUL with. This is a "benriner." A benriner, for lack of a better description, is a mandoline for beginners. Mandolines, if you see them in serious gourmet kitchens or in restaurants, are very large, heavy, machines which are designed to allow you to slice things very thinly. They cost upwards of 200.00, come with instructions that are written in French or in laughable translations, and rust if you let them get wet.
Enter the benriner, which is plastic, does not do ALL the mandoline does, but does the trick of thin slicing. It comes with a hand guard. PLEASE USE IT until you get the hang of it, and follow the "Zen of kitchen" approach when making this. For those unfamiliar with this, the Zen of Kitchen states, simply "when you cook the rice, cook the rice."
Wakarimasu ka? Understand? PAY ATTENTION WHEN YOU USE THESE. Annalena has a lovely friend who lost part of her thumb by not. But Annalena uses the device every week, and has not injured herself. And they cost no more than about 40.00.
Get out your new toy, and the stems of a large bunch of cauliflower. Cut away the florets and use them for something else (you know what to do with them). Run the stems over the slicing blade of the benriner, and you will come away with very small, thin, white slices of cauliflower. Proceed slowly at first, but as you get the hang of it (it is easy), you can move faster, and will probably mow through that bunch of cauliflower in all of about five or ten minutes.
While you are slicing away, put a cup of walnuts into the oven, at 350, and toast them. For walnuts, they are ready when you smell the toasty nuttiness. Protect your hand, take them out, and pour them into a bowl (do not let them stay on the baking sheet. They will continue to cook, and may burn).
Now, get some cheese: Annalena prefers pecorino romano, because cauliflower is a vegetable she associates with southern Italy, and this is a Southern cheese. If you prefer parmigiano, or something else, please feel free. You will want half to 3/4 cup of this.
Finally, make a STRONG acid dressing. What does this mean? Well,most of the salad dressings you will encounter in restaurants, or make, will use the classic recipe of 1 part acid (vinegar, lemon juice, etc), to three parts oil. It will also use half a teaspoon of salt for every half cup of dressing you are making. In a dressing for this salad, increase the amount of acid. Perhaps not to 1:2, but somewhere in between 1/3 and 1/2, and up the salt. Taste the dressing as you're going along, keeping in mind that there are some very bland flavors here, and a large volume.
When you are ready, put the cauliflower into a bowl, and pour the dressing over it. Toss it, and then add the walnuts, and toss them. Finally, sprinkle the cheese over everything. No tossing now.
And you're done. If you happen to have some croutons, but of course. Or, if there's a fennel bulb in your fridge begging to be used, gratify it and stir it in, after you prep it the same way you did the cauliflower.
You may very well find yourself asking "what am I to do with the florets?" Indeed, Annalena found herself vexed by this very question. Reader, I pickled them
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Cooking extra, because... "Thai style" fried rice
Ragazzi, one of the things we all have to learn, as responsible citizens, is to not throw out food. There is in fact a commercial that is played often, which turns our habit of overbuying and overcooking into a joke . You know the one "four pounds of sirloin, please, but just wrap 2 and throw out the rest."
Not funny. But a fact. So when Annalena tells you to cook more of something than you need, and deliberately, there must be a good reason.
And so there is. The next time you cook rice make extra. It will keep very well. Annalena has kept leftover rice in her fridge for a week (actually, she's kept it for longer, but let's not go there), and apparently, you can freeze it too. So if you make rice at all, make double what you need, so you can make this recipe.
And if you have that rice, you can make an absolutely outstanding dish in such little time, you may very well have to be revived with smelling salts, or the sauce you use here.
The other benefit of this, is that it avoids all of the YUCK that we associate with fried rice. For Annalena, that YUCK includes the use of eggs, which she doesn't really like, and certainly does not like pieces of gunky scrambled egg showing up in her fried rice (Do any of you out there remember "subgum" fried rice? Know what that is. "Subgum" is Cantonese for "ten ingredients." Among Chinese, however, it is called 'garbage' rice. It's where the leftovers go in the restaurant. So if you order anything "subgum." Just sayin...)
OK, so here we go. Now, there are many OPTIONAl ingredients in this recipe. The only required item is the onions and scallions. Annalena is serious about that. You can leave out anything , substitute anything, and you can change the quantities. Here we go.
We start with the presumption that you have 3 cups of left over, cooked rice. Jasmine rice is really good, but use what you got. You will also need a half pound, or more, of peeled shrimp. Remember Annalena prefers the medium ones, but use what you l ike. You also need a large onion, sliced into the "half moon" cut. Annalena prefers a red one here.A couple of scallions, sliced up, and at least two minced cloves of garlic. Now, you will also need an item you may not have in your house. Get it. It's useful. That is Asian fish sauce. It gives a depth of flavor to things that will surprise you. Annalena thinks of it as Asian worcester sauce. Measure 2 tablespoons out, as well as a bit of hot sauce of your liking. You will also need a half cup of nuts. Annalena did this with cashews, but almonds or peanuts would be good, too. They need to be roasted.
A digression here. Annalena learned, from Zuni Cafe', that even when nuts are sold as "roasted" you should roast them again. It is not hard. Turn your oven to 350, spread the nuts on a sheet, and put them in for five or six minutes . You'll smell them, and the oil will come out to the top. DONE.
Now, you will also need some soy sauce. When Annalena made this, the soy sauce blackened all the rice and the dish was a bit salty. That was for FIVE cups of rice, and with half a cup of soy sauce. For three cups, use 1/4 cup.
Trust Annalena here, measuring your ingredients has taken more time than cooking this dish will. Put two tabelspoons of neutral oil in a big pan, and when it begins to shimmer, add the shrimp. Do not move them for two minutes, then stir them, and cook them for another minute. Out they go, to a bowl, and add the onion slices. Stir, for about two minutes, then add the scallions, for half a minute and then add your garlic, the fish sauce, the hot sauce and cook for another thirty seconds. Now add the rice. You'll want a big spoon here, because you are going to stir, and break up and clumps of rice (and there will be some. ) . It will take you all of two minutes. Promesso.
Now, off the heat, stir in the shrimp and, if you like this, add about two cups of chopped pineapple. Or apple. Or pear. Or whatever fruit you like. You may also want to stir in up to a cup of green peas, or some other smallish vegetable, to make this a bit more nutritious. Add the soy sauce, and stir it all together. And now, the nuts, on top.
Taste it. If you want more hot sauce, please. Or soy. Or fish sauce. Or whatever you like.
Don't care for shrimp? Don't use them. Use scallops. Or cubes of tofu. Or, ground meat. Whatever you like. Annalena already told you that the nuts were switchable. And so on , and so forth.
If you know a bad week is ahead of you, making the extra rice will give you just what you need when you come home, need dinner, and need it fast. So put this one on your list, ragazzi. It will serve you well.
Why it is "Thai" style is something that Annalena cannot begin to fathom
Not funny. But a fact. So when Annalena tells you to cook more of something than you need, and deliberately, there must be a good reason.
And so there is. The next time you cook rice make extra. It will keep very well. Annalena has kept leftover rice in her fridge for a week (actually, she's kept it for longer, but let's not go there), and apparently, you can freeze it too. So if you make rice at all, make double what you need, so you can make this recipe.
And if you have that rice, you can make an absolutely outstanding dish in such little time, you may very well have to be revived with smelling salts, or the sauce you use here.
The other benefit of this, is that it avoids all of the YUCK that we associate with fried rice. For Annalena, that YUCK includes the use of eggs, which she doesn't really like, and certainly does not like pieces of gunky scrambled egg showing up in her fried rice (Do any of you out there remember "subgum" fried rice? Know what that is. "Subgum" is Cantonese for "ten ingredients." Among Chinese, however, it is called 'garbage' rice. It's where the leftovers go in the restaurant. So if you order anything "subgum." Just sayin...)
OK, so here we go. Now, there are many OPTIONAl ingredients in this recipe. The only required item is the onions and scallions. Annalena is serious about that. You can leave out anything , substitute anything, and you can change the quantities. Here we go.
We start with the presumption that you have 3 cups of left over, cooked rice. Jasmine rice is really good, but use what you got. You will also need a half pound, or more, of peeled shrimp. Remember Annalena prefers the medium ones, but use what you l ike. You also need a large onion, sliced into the "half moon" cut. Annalena prefers a red one here.A couple of scallions, sliced up, and at least two minced cloves of garlic. Now, you will also need an item you may not have in your house. Get it. It's useful. That is Asian fish sauce. It gives a depth of flavor to things that will surprise you. Annalena thinks of it as Asian worcester sauce. Measure 2 tablespoons out, as well as a bit of hot sauce of your liking. You will also need a half cup of nuts. Annalena did this with cashews, but almonds or peanuts would be good, too. They need to be roasted.
A digression here. Annalena learned, from Zuni Cafe', that even when nuts are sold as "roasted" you should roast them again. It is not hard. Turn your oven to 350, spread the nuts on a sheet, and put them in for five or six minutes . You'll smell them, and the oil will come out to the top. DONE.
Now, you will also need some soy sauce. When Annalena made this, the soy sauce blackened all the rice and the dish was a bit salty. That was for FIVE cups of rice, and with half a cup of soy sauce. For three cups, use 1/4 cup.
Trust Annalena here, measuring your ingredients has taken more time than cooking this dish will. Put two tabelspoons of neutral oil in a big pan, and when it begins to shimmer, add the shrimp. Do not move them for two minutes, then stir them, and cook them for another minute. Out they go, to a bowl, and add the onion slices. Stir, for about two minutes, then add the scallions, for half a minute and then add your garlic, the fish sauce, the hot sauce and cook for another thirty seconds. Now add the rice. You'll want a big spoon here, because you are going to stir, and break up and clumps of rice (and there will be some. ) . It will take you all of two minutes. Promesso.
Now, off the heat, stir in the shrimp and, if you like this, add about two cups of chopped pineapple. Or apple. Or pear. Or whatever fruit you like. You may also want to stir in up to a cup of green peas, or some other smallish vegetable, to make this a bit more nutritious. Add the soy sauce, and stir it all together. And now, the nuts, on top.
Taste it. If you want more hot sauce, please. Or soy. Or fish sauce. Or whatever you like.
Don't care for shrimp? Don't use them. Use scallops. Or cubes of tofu. Or, ground meat. Whatever you like. Annalena already told you that the nuts were switchable. And so on , and so forth.
If you know a bad week is ahead of you, making the extra rice will give you just what you need when you come home, need dinner, and need it fast. So put this one on your list, ragazzi. It will serve you well.
Why it is "Thai" style is something that Annalena cannot begin to fathom
Thursday, February 16, 2012
The wind beneath my....
Ragazzi, you don't need too many smarts for what this one is going to be about, do you? And, truth to be told, it's a good one.
When she was a wee thing, Annalena's favorite part of the chicken, was the wing. Indeed, it still is, and it is only by sheer force of her titanic will, that Annalena does not rip the wing from the Guyman's portion of chicken, when we have our weekly roasted bird. Annalena's mamma, however, liked wings as well, so things being what they were....
And it was also a time, that long ago, when wings were popular for reasons that are not clear in Annalena's mind. As a result, her Nana frequently could NOT get wings from the butcher, or could get very few. So, it was one of those things that just did not cross the table.
Years pass, and wings have gone out, and in, to favor. Of course, we are all now aware of the ubiquitous buffalo wings, hot wings, and so on, and so forth. Annalena generally avoids these because (i) inevitably they are hideous (ii) the ingredients used in them make Annalena feel like each wing has 500 calories, and (iii) notwithstanding (i) and (ii), to paraphrase Chaka Khan "once she gets started, oh baby she's hard to stop." Those six hundred calorie MoFos go down Annalena's throat like , well, never mind.
So, anyway, a few weeks ago, on the advent of the Superbowl, one of Annalena's favorite chefs, David Tanis, posted a recipe for , as he called it "spicy lacquered chicken wings.' Annalena decided to try to make it.
TRY to find a chicken wing the week before Superbowl Sunday. You would have more luck finding Annalena at Costco.
So, it waited, until we had a dinner party this week, and Annalena served these as a "tidbit" before the main course. They were a success. And Annalena is glad that people were there, because she would have easily eaten all 24 of them. Having said that, if you look through the recipe, there is no fat added to this dish. All the fat is in the wings itself, plus some in the sugar. So when you do your calorie counts, keep that in mind. And now, let us get to work.
You will need a few odd ingredients here. One is rice wine (for which you can use mirin or even a sweet rice wine vinegar). You will also need "five spice powder." Annalena forgets what is in five spice powder, but if you ever go into a GOOD Chinese restaurant and wonder "MMMM. What is that smell?" and you are not talking about the grease, you are smelling five spice. Get yourself a small jar, and use it here, and substitute it for cinnamon, using half as much five spice as you would normally use the cinnamon. Your world will explode, in a good way.
Let's make a marinade. Mix together three tablespoons of soy sauce (low sodium is fine), and an equal amount of that rice wine, or sherry. Then 3 tablespoons of brown sugar, dark or light (dark makes a nicer wing). Add a tablespoon of grated ginger, 6 very finely minced garlic cloves, a half teaspoon of the five spice, a quarter teaspoon of cayenne pepper (you can up this, if you want them spicier), and a bit of grated orange zest. Mix this all up together and then pour it over 3 pounds of what are now called "party wings." These are the wings with the little tip taken off. You will get anywhere between 18 and 24 wings in 3 pounds (which should make you appreciate, or be frightened of, Annalena's appetite. Yes, she could have eaten all of these).
Stir everything together, and put them in the fridge overnight, or leave it at room temperature for an hour. Preheat your oven to 375, and look for an appropriate pan. Annalena used a 9x13 metal roasting pan. Anything that has enough of a surface area so that the wings can lie in one layer is fine, but DON'T use a baking sheet here. You will burn everything if you do.
Pour the stuff into the pan and, unlike many of Annalena's recipes, this is not one where you can go away and read "War and Peace," or create a card castle, etc. No, you have to peak in on these, every 8 minutes or so. Chef Tanis suggests using a brush, and painting them with the sauce that comes off of the wings. You can do that. Annalena simply shook her pan vigorously, so that the wings started to move around, the top became the bottom (don't go there, please), and then repeat this, for 40-45 minutes.
Over the course of that baking, these guys will darken, and your home will take on that mysterious smell of a GOOD Chinese restaurant.
When they are ready, Chef Tanis suggest an elaborate salad with oranges, and cilantro and cucumbers to put them over. More power to you if you choose to do this. They are just fine as they are. And they are fine cold. And they are fine warmed up and served a day later.
IF your sauce thickens while these flappers are cooking, then pour a few tablespoons of water in. This is important, because there are a lot fo carmelizing agents here, and your pan will get very ugly if you don't keep an eye on things.
Yum, yum yum. I do believe that Ms. Gilda may find herself making these this weekend. Just have that feeling. Annalena is making a second batch herself, but she is making sure the Guyman is there, so that they make it to their intended recipients.
Flap, flap, flap.
When she was a wee thing, Annalena's favorite part of the chicken, was the wing. Indeed, it still is, and it is only by sheer force of her titanic will, that Annalena does not rip the wing from the Guyman's portion of chicken, when we have our weekly roasted bird. Annalena's mamma, however, liked wings as well, so things being what they were....
And it was also a time, that long ago, when wings were popular for reasons that are not clear in Annalena's mind. As a result, her Nana frequently could NOT get wings from the butcher, or could get very few. So, it was one of those things that just did not cross the table.
Years pass, and wings have gone out, and in, to favor. Of course, we are all now aware of the ubiquitous buffalo wings, hot wings, and so on, and so forth. Annalena generally avoids these because (i) inevitably they are hideous (ii) the ingredients used in them make Annalena feel like each wing has 500 calories, and (iii) notwithstanding (i) and (ii), to paraphrase Chaka Khan "once she gets started, oh baby she's hard to stop." Those six hundred calorie MoFos go down Annalena's throat like , well, never mind.
So, anyway, a few weeks ago, on the advent of the Superbowl, one of Annalena's favorite chefs, David Tanis, posted a recipe for , as he called it "spicy lacquered chicken wings.' Annalena decided to try to make it.
TRY to find a chicken wing the week before Superbowl Sunday. You would have more luck finding Annalena at Costco.
So, it waited, until we had a dinner party this week, and Annalena served these as a "tidbit" before the main course. They were a success. And Annalena is glad that people were there, because she would have easily eaten all 24 of them. Having said that, if you look through the recipe, there is no fat added to this dish. All the fat is in the wings itself, plus some in the sugar. So when you do your calorie counts, keep that in mind. And now, let us get to work.
You will need a few odd ingredients here. One is rice wine (for which you can use mirin or even a sweet rice wine vinegar). You will also need "five spice powder." Annalena forgets what is in five spice powder, but if you ever go into a GOOD Chinese restaurant and wonder "MMMM. What is that smell?" and you are not talking about the grease, you are smelling five spice. Get yourself a small jar, and use it here, and substitute it for cinnamon, using half as much five spice as you would normally use the cinnamon. Your world will explode, in a good way.
Let's make a marinade. Mix together three tablespoons of soy sauce (low sodium is fine), and an equal amount of that rice wine, or sherry. Then 3 tablespoons of brown sugar, dark or light (dark makes a nicer wing). Add a tablespoon of grated ginger, 6 very finely minced garlic cloves, a half teaspoon of the five spice, a quarter teaspoon of cayenne pepper (you can up this, if you want them spicier), and a bit of grated orange zest. Mix this all up together and then pour it over 3 pounds of what are now called "party wings." These are the wings with the little tip taken off. You will get anywhere between 18 and 24 wings in 3 pounds (which should make you appreciate, or be frightened of, Annalena's appetite. Yes, she could have eaten all of these).
Stir everything together, and put them in the fridge overnight, or leave it at room temperature for an hour. Preheat your oven to 375, and look for an appropriate pan. Annalena used a 9x13 metal roasting pan. Anything that has enough of a surface area so that the wings can lie in one layer is fine, but DON'T use a baking sheet here. You will burn everything if you do.
Pour the stuff into the pan and, unlike many of Annalena's recipes, this is not one where you can go away and read "War and Peace," or create a card castle, etc. No, you have to peak in on these, every 8 minutes or so. Chef Tanis suggests using a brush, and painting them with the sauce that comes off of the wings. You can do that. Annalena simply shook her pan vigorously, so that the wings started to move around, the top became the bottom (don't go there, please), and then repeat this, for 40-45 minutes.
Over the course of that baking, these guys will darken, and your home will take on that mysterious smell of a GOOD Chinese restaurant.
When they are ready, Chef Tanis suggest an elaborate salad with oranges, and cilantro and cucumbers to put them over. More power to you if you choose to do this. They are just fine as they are. And they are fine cold. And they are fine warmed up and served a day later.
IF your sauce thickens while these flappers are cooking, then pour a few tablespoons of water in. This is important, because there are a lot fo carmelizing agents here, and your pan will get very ugly if you don't keep an eye on things.
Yum, yum yum. I do believe that Ms. Gilda may find herself making these this weekend. Just have that feeling. Annalena is making a second batch herself, but she is making sure the Guyman is there, so that they make it to their intended recipients.
Flap, flap, flap.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Did you miss me? "Tuscan" Pot Roast
Ciao ragazzi. It has in fact been nearly a month that Annalena has been away, has it not? Shameful, regretful, necessary and all those things. To explain all the considerations would be akin to torture (which some of you would not mind), but let us leave it as: I DID MISS YOU!!!! Yes indeed, to the extent that folks comment, I did miss them. And now, let them begin again.
There is a tendency in cooking to apply adjectives to dishes, that ultimately do not make sense. Frequently, they are geographic. For example, last week, Annalena read of how the First Lady ( one of her favorite people), had "picked at a plate of Venetian apricot chicken."
Well, Annalena is no slouch at Italian food, but she is totally at a loss as to what makes a chicken dish "Venetian," and certainly does not understand the connection between Venice and apricots. Can anyone out there comment? Of course, this belies the question: was the dish any good?
In a similar fashion, Annalena pilfered this recipe from one of her favorite chefs, Joanne Weir, tweaked it a bit, and presents it to you. What makes it "Tuscan" rather than any other Italian region is a bit baffling to Annalena, who had been taught that "Tuscan" inevitably meant beans were involved. There are no such beans in this recipe, and honestly, the seasonings and additives sound distinctly Southern, except it IS a "pot roast," which means it is a large piece of beef, and that is distinctly NOT Southern Italian. And, as students of Annalena will know, large pieces of meat, in the Italian tradition, are usually Florentine, which is of course in Tuscany (Annalena begs you not to draw conclusions between culinary dishes and dishes of the ambulatory type).
In any event, it is indeed a wonderful dish, and you must make it. Really, you must. It is another one of those dishes that calls out for a cold day when you want something slow cooked for the morrow, that will warm your innards. Let us go to it.
The only exotic ingredient you will need, are some dried mushrooms. Chef Weir calls for porcini, and Annalena endorses this. Half an ounce, which is probably what you will get in those little tiny packets that you find at the store. Cover them with three cups of boiling water, and leave them alone.
You will need a large chuck roast here. Annalena used two, smaller, boneless ones, and that will work, as will a larger one. Ultimately, you want about four pounds of meat. If there is a bone in the roast, you will have to think in terms of five. If you can, salt and pepper it and leave it overnight in the fridge. If not, do it right before the next step, but please do it. And be generous.
Get a tablespoon of olive oil hot in a big, solid pot that will stand up to slow cooking. Le Creuset comes to mind. You know the others. Brown the meat well. Here, please take your time. Annalena spent a good 3-5 minutes per side . When it is done, put it aside for a few minutes.
You now take a chopped onion, a chopped carrot and a stalk of celery that has also been chopped (you can chunk these and put them in your food processor to break them down), and put them into the same pan, at medium heat. You cook them until they soften. Ms. Weir says fifteen minutes. Annalena advises against this. Five-six were all she needed . Now you add drained porcini mushrooms, but do not toss the liquid away. Also, add five, chopped garlic cloves.
While these aromatics are cooking away, get a large bowl and mix up a can of tomatoes. Annalena used New Jersey pureed tomatoes, but you may use what you have, as long as the quality is good (a 28-35 ounce can, please), with the porcini liquid, a cup of a red wine (this being "Tuscan" chianti seems called for. Annalena used zinfandel), and a quarter cup of tomato paste. She left out the sugar that was called for. When you've stirred this together, put it in the pan with the vegetables, and then add the browned meat. Raise the heat to bring it to a boil, and then... immediately reduce the heat, to the slowest bubble you can achieve. If you happen to have a wonderful device, called a heat disperser (essentially a metal plate, to put under a pot), use it here. Cover the pot, and let it cook for an hour. Then, uncover, do not increase the heat, and let it bubble away, very slowly, for at least 2, or even 3 hours, or more. After 2 hours, prod it to see if it's tender. Annalena's grass fed, smaller pieces took a grand total of about 3.5 hours to cook, on Superbowl Sunday. This included the first hour, with the cover, and then the others. It is a question of tenderness here (is it not always?), and when you pierce the meat with a knife, it should "yield." You will know it when you feel it.
A braised roast like this (contradiction in terms, eh? "braised roast"), is always better the second day. Serve it with polenta, or pasta, or noodles, or spatzle, or just cut it into slices and eat it cold on Italian bread, for sandwiches.
This is good food. And it begs a question that Dave, the erudite farmer asked Annalena: "what is pot roast?"
Well, Annalena was stuck for an answer, and this of course raises questions beyond the adjective, but to the noun: what is.... (fill in your favorite blank). We could very well have a culinary existentialist crisis if we are doing things like this, but since Annalena is dedicating this recipe to Il Gattopardo, perhaps that is not the best thing to do.
There is a tendency in cooking to apply adjectives to dishes, that ultimately do not make sense. Frequently, they are geographic. For example, last week, Annalena read of how the First Lady ( one of her favorite people), had "picked at a plate of Venetian apricot chicken."
Well, Annalena is no slouch at Italian food, but she is totally at a loss as to what makes a chicken dish "Venetian," and certainly does not understand the connection between Venice and apricots. Can anyone out there comment? Of course, this belies the question: was the dish any good?
In a similar fashion, Annalena pilfered this recipe from one of her favorite chefs, Joanne Weir, tweaked it a bit, and presents it to you. What makes it "Tuscan" rather than any other Italian region is a bit baffling to Annalena, who had been taught that "Tuscan" inevitably meant beans were involved. There are no such beans in this recipe, and honestly, the seasonings and additives sound distinctly Southern, except it IS a "pot roast," which means it is a large piece of beef, and that is distinctly NOT Southern Italian. And, as students of Annalena will know, large pieces of meat, in the Italian tradition, are usually Florentine, which is of course in Tuscany (Annalena begs you not to draw conclusions between culinary dishes and dishes of the ambulatory type).
In any event, it is indeed a wonderful dish, and you must make it. Really, you must. It is another one of those dishes that calls out for a cold day when you want something slow cooked for the morrow, that will warm your innards. Let us go to it.
The only exotic ingredient you will need, are some dried mushrooms. Chef Weir calls for porcini, and Annalena endorses this. Half an ounce, which is probably what you will get in those little tiny packets that you find at the store. Cover them with three cups of boiling water, and leave them alone.
You will need a large chuck roast here. Annalena used two, smaller, boneless ones, and that will work, as will a larger one. Ultimately, you want about four pounds of meat. If there is a bone in the roast, you will have to think in terms of five. If you can, salt and pepper it and leave it overnight in the fridge. If not, do it right before the next step, but please do it. And be generous.
Get a tablespoon of olive oil hot in a big, solid pot that will stand up to slow cooking. Le Creuset comes to mind. You know the others. Brown the meat well. Here, please take your time. Annalena spent a good 3-5 minutes per side . When it is done, put it aside for a few minutes.
You now take a chopped onion, a chopped carrot and a stalk of celery that has also been chopped (you can chunk these and put them in your food processor to break them down), and put them into the same pan, at medium heat. You cook them until they soften. Ms. Weir says fifteen minutes. Annalena advises against this. Five-six were all she needed . Now you add drained porcini mushrooms, but do not toss the liquid away. Also, add five, chopped garlic cloves.
While these aromatics are cooking away, get a large bowl and mix up a can of tomatoes. Annalena used New Jersey pureed tomatoes, but you may use what you have, as long as the quality is good (a 28-35 ounce can, please), with the porcini liquid, a cup of a red wine (this being "Tuscan" chianti seems called for. Annalena used zinfandel), and a quarter cup of tomato paste. She left out the sugar that was called for. When you've stirred this together, put it in the pan with the vegetables, and then add the browned meat. Raise the heat to bring it to a boil, and then... immediately reduce the heat, to the slowest bubble you can achieve. If you happen to have a wonderful device, called a heat disperser (essentially a metal plate, to put under a pot), use it here. Cover the pot, and let it cook for an hour. Then, uncover, do not increase the heat, and let it bubble away, very slowly, for at least 2, or even 3 hours, or more. After 2 hours, prod it to see if it's tender. Annalena's grass fed, smaller pieces took a grand total of about 3.5 hours to cook, on Superbowl Sunday. This included the first hour, with the cover, and then the others. It is a question of tenderness here (is it not always?), and when you pierce the meat with a knife, it should "yield." You will know it when you feel it.
A braised roast like this (contradiction in terms, eh? "braised roast"), is always better the second day. Serve it with polenta, or pasta, or noodles, or spatzle, or just cut it into slices and eat it cold on Italian bread, for sandwiches.
This is good food. And it begs a question that Dave, the erudite farmer asked Annalena: "what is pot roast?"
Well, Annalena was stuck for an answer, and this of course raises questions beyond the adjective, but to the noun: what is.... (fill in your favorite blank). We could very well have a culinary existentialist crisis if we are doing things like this, but since Annalena is dedicating this recipe to Il Gattopardo, perhaps that is not the best thing to do.
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