There's a saying amongst cooks: "what grows together goes together," sort of a guideline for cooking seasonally. Well, it's right, if you don't take it too literally or too expansively. There are few combinations more inspired that dead ripe tomatoes and fragrant basil, both of which reach their peak at the same time. Pears or apples, and maple syrup is another combination, more appropriate to this time of year. But let's not get too carried away. Peaches and basil, for example, are at their peak at the same time, but I'm not sure that I'm more than intrigued by the combination.
Now, as we are literally in the midst of winter, choices are somewhat limited. And that makes it a little difficult to be creative. But sometimes, necessity compels creativity, and it works.
Local salad greens are not possible this time of year, and Guy and I love are salad. So I find myself stopping at Whole Foods to get arugula, baby spinach, romaine lettuce, chicories, things like that. It's not the same as getting it a day after it was in the ground, but "desperate times call for desperate measures," to exaggerate. And when I ran out of salad greens this week, and simply was too lazy to get to the store to get some more, I was pondering: what do I do for salad?
Looking into the fridge, I had an idea. I had a big bag of chioggia beets from the farmers market, and some fennel. Chioggia beets, when raw, slice in a pattern of red and white circles. Quite beautiful. They lose that stripe when they cook, but you get beets that are a beautiful pale pink/white in color. So I baked a bunch of them, the way I do in the RED entry on beets. Then I sliced up a whole bunch of fennel bulbs. They were small, so I used about six of them, to six small beets. Finally, one of the truly wonderful gifts of winter: a blood orange from the amazing Citrus Bomb , Ms. Kim. ( she called me a stud this week. She gets a bonus point or two for that). I put them to the side while I mixed up a dressing of apple cider vinegar , salt and olive oil (for my taste, when there's fruit in the salad, cider vinegar seems to do the best). Then, everything went in together, and I tossed it, with my God given tools (my hands), and VOILA. We had a wonderful salad to go with my kale spanokopita. It was perfect.
Now if you wanted to push this salad to main course level, I would suggest one, two, or all three of the following: goat cheese (a natural pairing with beets), walnuts (also), and bacon, cooked and crispy. If you use them all, you're moving out of temple food for sure, but you can always say "but all I'm eating for dinner is salad." And you'll get no argument for me, as long as you invite me to have some.
Enjoy it. Winter will be over before you know it, and you may find yourself regretting some of the wonderful things you can do with what looks like limited products.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
This can't be "temple food."
I'm still in the Temple Food mode, but I want to give you a recipe that shows you how you can transform a dish that you would never think of, when you're "abstaining" into something that you can in fact eat.
Spanokopita. Yes, spanokopita. That wonderful Greek dish that you don't make, because you think it's too hard, and you don't eat because you think it's too rich, and that you always feel disappointed about when you get it in a restaurant.
I agree with being disappointed in restaurants. And I agree that it's rich. But you know what? It's not hard to make. And there's a very good rule for taking a rich dish, and making it acceptable for "temple days". Ready for the secret: eat less of it.
Now, there are various ways of making sure that you do this. Here's mine. In my opinion, spanokopita that is not right out of the oven is dead spanokopita. So what I do when we're doing "Temple Days," is to put the spanokopita in the oven, and when it's just about done, serve a first course. Normally, we eat our salad after we eat the main dish, but in a situation like this, salad first is a good idea. Or soup. Just something to take up some room. And make less. You can make enough spanokopita to feed a small party. You don't have to. Many recipes can be cut in half without any problem. And change the proportions a little. Use more greens than the recipe calls for, and as I did in the scallop recipe, cut back on a few things a little.
Spanokopita calls for phyllo dough, which scares people. It shouldn't. Don't even think about making your own. If you happen to have a grandmother who has a good hand for it, by all means, have her show you. But if you don't, speak to a friend who is Middle Eastern or Greek and find out what brand they use (no one makes it from scratch anymore). If they say something like "but you can only get it at a store 250 miles from here, and I go once a month," ask them to bring you back some the next time they go.
Okay, here we go. You'll need about half a pound of phyllo. That's half of a package. And here, I'm going to be very wasteful. I throw out the rest, because it's too much of a hassle to keep it. If you know someone who'd be interested, share it. Or make a BIG one and share it. But if you're like me, you can't have the monstrous plate of that wonderful stuff around.
You'll need feta, a soft white cheese too, greens, eggs and butter. Now, I have made spanokopita with cottage cheese, with soft Greek cheese, and my favorite soft cheese is good quality ricotta. So get some of that (and again, NOT the stuff at the grocer that ends in "O." It's vile). You also need some good feta cheese. How do you know it's good? TASTE IT. Again, don't buy the packaged stuff. It's awful. Go to a good cheese store, and ask for a taste. If they won't give you one, go to another store.
To make a reasonable portion of this wonderful dish, you need half a pound of each of the cheeses. Break up the feta and mix it in with the ricotta. Taste it. It should be salty enough, but if it isn't, add some salt. If you are so inclined (I'm not), you can add some chopped scallions too. Now, add six eggs and mix this thoroughly.
Now you need your greens. For it to be spanokopita, you really should be using spinach. Well, at the Farmer's Market this weekend, I bought a bunch of "decorative party kale," as I call it. You know, those purple "ornamental cabbages." Well, they are edible. I cut away the leaves, and cooked them in boiling salted water, for fifteen minutes (that's a long time, but kale is a tough green). When it was nice and soft, I noticed that the purple had leached out and it was green like regular kale. When it was cool, I chopped it up, and added it to the cheese and eggs.
Now, here's how I do it, and there are differences of opinon on the layering technique. I take about eight sheets of phyllo, and I cut them down the middle, so that I now have sixteen squares.
Here's where the "OH MY GOD THAT IS SO RICH" comes into it. You need to melt a stick of unsalted butter. And brush a little of it on a small, glass or ceramic pan (9x9, or 8x8), and then put down your first half sheet of phyllo. Tradition calls for painting each sheet with butter. And it's good that way, but it's not temple food. So I alternate. I put down a second sheet, and brush that, and repeat, brushing every second sheet. Then, after I've got eight half sheets down, I add ALL of my filling. Then I cover it with the remaining eight half sheets. You then need to butter brush the top one, and make some really serious slashes through the top. This is going to bubble up, and you want to keep it neat.
Get it in the oven, on a baking sheet, and let it cook at 400 (a fairly high temperature, but you've got a fairly thick mass here), for 30-45 minutes. Is it done? You can check by seeing if anything has bubbled out, and if it is, is it firm? What you're trying to do is cook the eggs, because everything else has been cooked already, and eggs firm up when they're cooked. If it's not done, let it go for a bit longer, and then, let it rest for about ten minutes before you cut SMALL portions of it.
And there it is. It's richer than standard temple food, but use smaller plates, or anything you can to limit pigging out on this wonderful dish. And when you've finished your repentance for overindulging on the holidays, make a big one, and dig right on in.
You can go back to carrots and lentils whenever you need to!
Spanokopita. Yes, spanokopita. That wonderful Greek dish that you don't make, because you think it's too hard, and you don't eat because you think it's too rich, and that you always feel disappointed about when you get it in a restaurant.
I agree with being disappointed in restaurants. And I agree that it's rich. But you know what? It's not hard to make. And there's a very good rule for taking a rich dish, and making it acceptable for "temple days". Ready for the secret: eat less of it.
Now, there are various ways of making sure that you do this. Here's mine. In my opinion, spanokopita that is not right out of the oven is dead spanokopita. So what I do when we're doing "Temple Days," is to put the spanokopita in the oven, and when it's just about done, serve a first course. Normally, we eat our salad after we eat the main dish, but in a situation like this, salad first is a good idea. Or soup. Just something to take up some room. And make less. You can make enough spanokopita to feed a small party. You don't have to. Many recipes can be cut in half without any problem. And change the proportions a little. Use more greens than the recipe calls for, and as I did in the scallop recipe, cut back on a few things a little.
Spanokopita calls for phyllo dough, which scares people. It shouldn't. Don't even think about making your own. If you happen to have a grandmother who has a good hand for it, by all means, have her show you. But if you don't, speak to a friend who is Middle Eastern or Greek and find out what brand they use (no one makes it from scratch anymore). If they say something like "but you can only get it at a store 250 miles from here, and I go once a month," ask them to bring you back some the next time they go.
Okay, here we go. You'll need about half a pound of phyllo. That's half of a package. And here, I'm going to be very wasteful. I throw out the rest, because it's too much of a hassle to keep it. If you know someone who'd be interested, share it. Or make a BIG one and share it. But if you're like me, you can't have the monstrous plate of that wonderful stuff around.
You'll need feta, a soft white cheese too, greens, eggs and butter. Now, I have made spanokopita with cottage cheese, with soft Greek cheese, and my favorite soft cheese is good quality ricotta. So get some of that (and again, NOT the stuff at the grocer that ends in "O." It's vile). You also need some good feta cheese. How do you know it's good? TASTE IT. Again, don't buy the packaged stuff. It's awful. Go to a good cheese store, and ask for a taste. If they won't give you one, go to another store.
To make a reasonable portion of this wonderful dish, you need half a pound of each of the cheeses. Break up the feta and mix it in with the ricotta. Taste it. It should be salty enough, but if it isn't, add some salt. If you are so inclined (I'm not), you can add some chopped scallions too. Now, add six eggs and mix this thoroughly.
Now you need your greens. For it to be spanokopita, you really should be using spinach. Well, at the Farmer's Market this weekend, I bought a bunch of "decorative party kale," as I call it. You know, those purple "ornamental cabbages." Well, they are edible. I cut away the leaves, and cooked them in boiling salted water, for fifteen minutes (that's a long time, but kale is a tough green). When it was nice and soft, I noticed that the purple had leached out and it was green like regular kale. When it was cool, I chopped it up, and added it to the cheese and eggs.
Now, here's how I do it, and there are differences of opinon on the layering technique. I take about eight sheets of phyllo, and I cut them down the middle, so that I now have sixteen squares.
Here's where the "OH MY GOD THAT IS SO RICH" comes into it. You need to melt a stick of unsalted butter. And brush a little of it on a small, glass or ceramic pan (9x9, or 8x8), and then put down your first half sheet of phyllo. Tradition calls for painting each sheet with butter. And it's good that way, but it's not temple food. So I alternate. I put down a second sheet, and brush that, and repeat, brushing every second sheet. Then, after I've got eight half sheets down, I add ALL of my filling. Then I cover it with the remaining eight half sheets. You then need to butter brush the top one, and make some really serious slashes through the top. This is going to bubble up, and you want to keep it neat.
Get it in the oven, on a baking sheet, and let it cook at 400 (a fairly high temperature, but you've got a fairly thick mass here), for 30-45 minutes. Is it done? You can check by seeing if anything has bubbled out, and if it is, is it firm? What you're trying to do is cook the eggs, because everything else has been cooked already, and eggs firm up when they're cooked. If it's not done, let it go for a bit longer, and then, let it rest for about ten minutes before you cut SMALL portions of it.
And there it is. It's richer than standard temple food, but use smaller plates, or anything you can to limit pigging out on this wonderful dish. And when you've finished your repentance for overindulging on the holidays, make a big one, and dig right on in.
You can go back to carrots and lentils whenever you need to!
Monday, January 7, 2008
What's up DOC?
Carrots. We all have them in the fridge right now, don't we? For nibbling on "to lose weight." (Remember the whole negative calorie thing?), or for making soup stock, or for shredding into salads. Or, if you bag lunch, what week goes by without a carrot stick or two in there? But who really pays attention to them? In fact, when I was thinking about this piece, I thought about titling it "The bridesmaid in the orange dress."
We all love that beautiful color. Is it too much? Because I have to ask, not rhetorically, when did carrots play a major role on your dinner plate? I bet I know the answer: when you were a kid. When mom defrosted a box of those disgusting frozen crinkle cuts, put a pat of margarine on them, and plopped a spoonful on your plate, telling you they were good for your eyes.
The texture did you in, didn't it? Somewhere between cardboard and soap. And they were probably overcooked and didn't taste like anything.
Time to rethink this. I am as guilty of it as anyone else. Last Saturday, I came back from the Farmer's Market with an unbelievable hoarde of goodies. I did not expect to do as well as I did with the veggies: I had kale, cabbage, potatoes, celery roots, jerusalem artichokes, leeks, beets, and carrots. Now, with this haul in the house, I began planning meals for the week, and starting thinking "OH HELL. I didn't buy enough vegetables. What am I gonna serve with the scallops?" (the cabbage is for duck breast, and the kale is going into spanokopita, of which more will be said later). So I was planning on a run to Whole Foods to get some broccoli or something.
In a "WOW. I coulda had a V-8 " moment (and I'll pass on the V-8, thank you very much), I thought "WHAT ABOUT CARROTS?" And why not? They're easy to cook (I'll show you in a minute), they qualify as "temple food" if you don't dress them like a slut (hard to avoid), and they taste good if you treat them right. And next to the white asparagus, a welcome splash of color.
There are a million recipes for carrots, and earlier in this blog, I talked about a salad with cumin and lemon, but here's a basic, cooked carrot recipe. I think once you make this, you will want it again.
Take a pound of carrots. At this time of year, you really do have to peel them. These are storage carrots, and their skin is tough. After you've peeled them, cut them crosswise into coins, maybe 1/3 of an inch thick. Get about an inch of salted water boiling, and toss in the carrots. Cover the pot and cook them until they're just a bit firmer than you would like.
Now, for a truly temple day side dish, you drain these, and add some lemon juice, and some chopped herbs. But if the rest of your meal isn't too rich, what you do after you have poured off the water, is toss in a tablespoon or so of butter (maybe two, for a pound of carrots,) and stir them into the butter. Brown them a little, if you wish, or add a big tablespoon of brown sugar. Less if you like them less sweet. The carrots will carmelize nicely, and you'll have a beautiful side dish.
And you're done. Remember. They help your vision, they're loaded with vitamins, and they are supposed to be a "negative calorie" food (okay, okay, okay. The butter took care of that).
How hard is that? And you've met an old friend, in a new place. I bet you'll do it again.
We all love that beautiful color. Is it too much? Because I have to ask, not rhetorically, when did carrots play a major role on your dinner plate? I bet I know the answer: when you were a kid. When mom defrosted a box of those disgusting frozen crinkle cuts, put a pat of margarine on them, and plopped a spoonful on your plate, telling you they were good for your eyes.
The texture did you in, didn't it? Somewhere between cardboard and soap. And they were probably overcooked and didn't taste like anything.
Time to rethink this. I am as guilty of it as anyone else. Last Saturday, I came back from the Farmer's Market with an unbelievable hoarde of goodies. I did not expect to do as well as I did with the veggies: I had kale, cabbage, potatoes, celery roots, jerusalem artichokes, leeks, beets, and carrots. Now, with this haul in the house, I began planning meals for the week, and starting thinking "OH HELL. I didn't buy enough vegetables. What am I gonna serve with the scallops?" (the cabbage is for duck breast, and the kale is going into spanokopita, of which more will be said later). So I was planning on a run to Whole Foods to get some broccoli or something.
In a "WOW. I coulda had a V-8 " moment (and I'll pass on the V-8, thank you very much), I thought "WHAT ABOUT CARROTS?" And why not? They're easy to cook (I'll show you in a minute), they qualify as "temple food" if you don't dress them like a slut (hard to avoid), and they taste good if you treat them right. And next to the white asparagus, a welcome splash of color.
There are a million recipes for carrots, and earlier in this blog, I talked about a salad with cumin and lemon, but here's a basic, cooked carrot recipe. I think once you make this, you will want it again.
Take a pound of carrots. At this time of year, you really do have to peel them. These are storage carrots, and their skin is tough. After you've peeled them, cut them crosswise into coins, maybe 1/3 of an inch thick. Get about an inch of salted water boiling, and toss in the carrots. Cover the pot and cook them until they're just a bit firmer than you would like.
Now, for a truly temple day side dish, you drain these, and add some lemon juice, and some chopped herbs. But if the rest of your meal isn't too rich, what you do after you have poured off the water, is toss in a tablespoon or so of butter (maybe two, for a pound of carrots,) and stir them into the butter. Brown them a little, if you wish, or add a big tablespoon of brown sugar. Less if you like them less sweet. The carrots will carmelize nicely, and you'll have a beautiful side dish.
And you're done. Remember. They help your vision, they're loaded with vitamins, and they are supposed to be a "negative calorie" food (okay, okay, okay. The butter took care of that).
How hard is that? And you've met an old friend, in a new place. I bet you'll do it again.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
More Temple Days
The ravages of the holiday season are not undone in a day. We all know that. We all also know of how the best intentions and the highest minded New Year's Resolutions wind up failing (I've already broken two of mine, but I'm working on getting restarted, on the theory that the year really doesn't begin until Monday, January 7th).
Trying to stay with "Temple Days," or just eating better and healthier generally calls upon you to do something very, VERY important: you have to enjoy what you're eating. If you don't, you won't eat it, you'll go and eat something bad for you and POOF goes the good intentions.
So, you'll need more than one recipe. And you shouldn't be relying completely on me for them. An easy way to make all of your recipes healthier is to drop a tablespoon of fat from anything you cook, if it calls for multiple tablespoons. Taking out all of the fat won't work. Your dish will not work, it will not taste good, and you'll just put it back in. And if you look at a recipe that you think would be good, IF the fat were dropped, then drop it.
I have in front of me a recipe for scallops in a sauce of shallots and grapefruit juice. Scallops, and any fish , are a very good choice for temple days. And if you are allergic to fish, or will not eat it for some reason, as is true for some of my blog readers, substitute the scallops with chicken tenders, or chunks of chicken, or any small, quick cooking piece of skinless chicken. It will work, and it will be good.
The recipe I am looking at serves four, and calls for EIGHT TABLESPOONS of olive oil. As Grace used to say when she was flustered on Will and Grace: "WHOOOOA" On reading the recipe, six of those tablespoons are used to saute shallots.
Well, shallots DO need fat for preparation, but SIX TABLESPOONS for THREE shallots? HUH????? No. We will NOT do that here. Here is how you would do the recipe for two people. Two very generous portions. Double it to cook for four. And as I will always do in these blogs, I will tell you when, in my opinion , the recipe fails, or where it can be improved.
You need 1/4 cup of diced shallots. Use a dry cup measure for this, or frankly, just estimate. Two nice sized shallots will give you a very generous quarter cup. More than you'll need. So if you like the taste, use two, and if you don't really care that much for them, use one. And instead of the eight tablespoons of olive oil that this recipe calls for, you're going to use two.
You also need 1/4 cup of fresh grapefruit juice. That's the juice that a good sized grapefruit will give you, plus more. Use a red or pink grapefruit. And if you get more than 1/4 LIQUID cup, drink it down. It's good for you. You will also need 1/4 cup of white wine vinegar. I am partial to champagne vinegar, but use what you have. Then you need a pound of day, or "dry" scallops. Get them from the fish market. DONT TRUST THE SUPERMARKET. The stuff you get there has almost always been treated with chemicals, and when you cook them, it will show up as tons of unappetizing liquid in your pan. If you're not a fish eater, use the chicken, like I mentioned above. Whether you use the scallops, or the chicken, pat it very dry with paper towels, and just before you're ready to cook it, sprinkle it with salt and pepper (you do this at the end because the salt will draw out liquid. Liquid keeps protein from searing).
Ok, here we go. If you are lucky enough to have a saute pan and a nonstick pan, have them ready. If not, use the nonstick. Heat one tablespoon of the olive oil in the pan, and then add the shallots. Saute them for about four minutes, and then, taking that pan off of the heat, add the grapefruit juice and put this aside.
Now, get your salted peppered, scallops ready. Add the second tablespoon of oil to the nonstick pan, and then add the scallops to the pan, when it's hot. You MAY have to do this in two batches, and if you do, add another tablespoon of oil when you're cooking them. Saute for four minutes on the first side, and then for two on the other. This will give you a nice sear. Add the grapefruit sauce to the scallops, and you're ready to go. And if you're using chicken, just make the substitution.
The normal accompaniment for this, would be simple white rice. But try couscous, for example, or perhaps some boiled potatoes. And as your vegetable, something I will talk about in the next blog. A very overlooked vegetable: carrots. Yup, carrots. When's the last time you had them other than as sticks? Time to get reacquainted with an old friend.
Trying to stay with "Temple Days," or just eating better and healthier generally calls upon you to do something very, VERY important: you have to enjoy what you're eating. If you don't, you won't eat it, you'll go and eat something bad for you and POOF goes the good intentions.
So, you'll need more than one recipe. And you shouldn't be relying completely on me for them. An easy way to make all of your recipes healthier is to drop a tablespoon of fat from anything you cook, if it calls for multiple tablespoons. Taking out all of the fat won't work. Your dish will not work, it will not taste good, and you'll just put it back in. And if you look at a recipe that you think would be good, IF the fat were dropped, then drop it.
I have in front of me a recipe for scallops in a sauce of shallots and grapefruit juice. Scallops, and any fish , are a very good choice for temple days. And if you are allergic to fish, or will not eat it for some reason, as is true for some of my blog readers, substitute the scallops with chicken tenders, or chunks of chicken, or any small, quick cooking piece of skinless chicken. It will work, and it will be good.
The recipe I am looking at serves four, and calls for EIGHT TABLESPOONS of olive oil. As Grace used to say when she was flustered on Will and Grace: "WHOOOOA" On reading the recipe, six of those tablespoons are used to saute shallots.
Well, shallots DO need fat for preparation, but SIX TABLESPOONS for THREE shallots? HUH????? No. We will NOT do that here. Here is how you would do the recipe for two people. Two very generous portions. Double it to cook for four. And as I will always do in these blogs, I will tell you when, in my opinion , the recipe fails, or where it can be improved.
You need 1/4 cup of diced shallots. Use a dry cup measure for this, or frankly, just estimate. Two nice sized shallots will give you a very generous quarter cup. More than you'll need. So if you like the taste, use two, and if you don't really care that much for them, use one. And instead of the eight tablespoons of olive oil that this recipe calls for, you're going to use two.
You also need 1/4 cup of fresh grapefruit juice. That's the juice that a good sized grapefruit will give you, plus more. Use a red or pink grapefruit. And if you get more than 1/4 LIQUID cup, drink it down. It's good for you. You will also need 1/4 cup of white wine vinegar. I am partial to champagne vinegar, but use what you have. Then you need a pound of day, or "dry" scallops. Get them from the fish market. DONT TRUST THE SUPERMARKET. The stuff you get there has almost always been treated with chemicals, and when you cook them, it will show up as tons of unappetizing liquid in your pan. If you're not a fish eater, use the chicken, like I mentioned above. Whether you use the scallops, or the chicken, pat it very dry with paper towels, and just before you're ready to cook it, sprinkle it with salt and pepper (you do this at the end because the salt will draw out liquid. Liquid keeps protein from searing).
Ok, here we go. If you are lucky enough to have a saute pan and a nonstick pan, have them ready. If not, use the nonstick. Heat one tablespoon of the olive oil in the pan, and then add the shallots. Saute them for about four minutes, and then, taking that pan off of the heat, add the grapefruit juice and put this aside.
Now, get your salted peppered, scallops ready. Add the second tablespoon of oil to the nonstick pan, and then add the scallops to the pan, when it's hot. You MAY have to do this in two batches, and if you do, add another tablespoon of oil when you're cooking them. Saute for four minutes on the first side, and then for two on the other. This will give you a nice sear. Add the grapefruit sauce to the scallops, and you're ready to go. And if you're using chicken, just make the substitution.
The normal accompaniment for this, would be simple white rice. But try couscous, for example, or perhaps some boiled potatoes. And as your vegetable, something I will talk about in the next blog. A very overlooked vegetable: carrots. Yup, carrots. When's the last time you had them other than as sticks? Time to get reacquainted with an old friend.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
My Temple Days: Lentil chili
One of my favorite television food personalities is Nigella Lawson. She seems so "real" to me, nothing arch or phony, and she sure seems to enjoy "playing with her food." I love how she gets into it, tastes, smacks her lips, gets messy. ITS A COOKING SHOW YOU PERV. Seriously, those lines remind me how close eating and sex are (and how often they.. OH NEVER MIND). Anyway, she is one of those people who, if I could invite them over for dinner, I would. (As I think of the television cooking personalities I would invite, the only man is Jacques Pepin. Marianne Esposito would be on the list, as would Lidia Bastianich. And Ina Garten. I've met everyone of them but Pepin. And there's a reason they project as "real" on TV. They are).
But as usual, I digress. In her books, and on her show, Nigella talks about how, after days of indulgence, she has what she calls her "temple days," where she prepares and eats very simple, very healthy food, to try to clear away the ravages of the excess (that's her phrase, not mine. But I'll steal it).
As we are emerging from the frenzy of Thanksgiving/Xmas/New Year's, it is indeed time for "Temple Days" for us all. For me, that means trying to stick to vegetables and legumes as much as possible, olive oil instead of butter, simple vegetables, fresh fruit, etc.
If you're going to eat that way, the food better be damn good.
Which brings me to the subject of spices and spicy food. I use a LOT of spices. And I use them dry, as compared to herbs, which I try to use fresh ALWAYS. What's the distinction? Oh, I KNEW you were gonna ask me that. MY distinction is that if it's a leaf I'm using , it's an herb . If it's a flower, a seed, a fruit, etc, it's a spice. It may be artificial, but that's what I use to distinguish them. And if it's a spice, I'll use it dry.
Americans are not good with spices. I think the reason for that is that getting spice into food takes time. And for us Yanks, it's all about rush rush RUSH. Even though, as I hope to show you, it doesn't take MUCH time.
The other reason I think we're not good with spices is that we equate spicy with hot. And that simply is not a good equation. Spicy food is not always hot, and vice versa. Go to a good Indian restaurant. A GOOD Indian restaurant and ask them to bring you an assortment of dishes, from mild to hot. ALL of them will be imbued with spice. And all of them take time to prepare. And, and perhaps this is another reason why Americans don't cook much with spice, most of them have very soft textures, because of the long cooking time. We all want to hear the "crunch," the "snap," when we eat. There are all kinds of studies that companies that make things like potato chips have carried out to maximize "crunch." So if instead of "crunch" our teeth sink into something very soft, we feel like we're eating baby food. What a shame.
The dish that follows is something I saw in a cooking magazine, with a few modifications (of course). I like the recipe because it qualifies as "temple food." Not much fat, lots of fiber, despairingly healthy. And it's tasty. And it gives us a chance to play with spices.
I've written before of my love of lentils. For this recipe, you want the simple brown ones - you know, the ones that cost a buck a pound. This is also a very economical dish if you have the spices on hand. And if you don't , get them.
You can half this recipe with ease. And you can ease up on the spices, because there's a real zing to this preparation. But I would suggest that you make it as written, and then if it's too hot and/or spicy, mix some steamed vegetables into it, or eat it with lots of rice. And if you want to have it on a day that is not a "temple day" for you, add some sour cream, or cheese, or both to it. Dairy always mollifies heat and spices.
So, here we go. You need one onion, four garlic cloves, and two dry cups of lentils. For spices, you will need FOUR tablespoons of chili powder (what strength is up to you. Ask the merchant how hot it is. Ask for a taste if you can), and you'll also need two tablespoons of ground cumin. Also, about a quarter teaspoon of cayenne pepper. (The recipe also called for dried oregano, but I didn't see the point, so I left it out). Finally, a cup of either tomato sauce, or crushed tomatoes (remember my rule: get the whole tomatoes and crush them yourself). Finally, one of the most important ingredients in cooking: water. You'll need eight cups.
Now, chop the onion, and also the garlic, but keep them separate. Heat four teaspoons (that's a tablespoon and a teaspoon) of olive oil in a big pot, and add the onions. Cook them at medium heat for two minutes, and then add the garlic for another half minute or so.
Now, the spicing. Toss all of your spices in with the onions and garlic and stir. You're going to get a wonderful aroma coming off from the pot, and the onions will get completely coated with this wonderful red "stuff." What the recipe I worked with neglects to tell you is that if you don't add a couple of tablespoons of water at this point, your spices will burn and the dish will taste miserable. Every Indian and Mexican cook knows this. Now, you do too. Stir things for about three minutes (that wasn't too long for you, was it), and now add the lentils, the tomatoes, and the water. Cover the pot so it comes to a boil faster. When it does, lower the heat, put the cover back on, and let it bubble away for about half an hour, or until the lentils are cooked to a tenderness that you like. Let the dish sit, and here, adjust the dish with salt and pepper. (The reason we didn't do this early on is because the vegetables will pick up the salt first, and they can only hold so much. You want the spice to get IN the onions and also IN the lentils).
As this sits, it will thicken, and you'll get something that really feels and looks like a very thick soup. You'll also get about 2.5 quarts of it. Thats a LOT of temple food, but that's okay because you probably have friends who are in the same situation.
That certainly was easy, wasn't it? You can eat this, as I say, as a meal onto itself, with rice and/or steamed vegetables, but I think you could also poach a nice piece of fish and put it right on top of a mound of the lovely stuff. Something like monkfish, or cod, or one of the milder white fishes.
Of course, I should be counseling you to drink water with this, but it's a Temple day , not a Day of Moritification. Have a beer, or some gewurztraminer, or a nice, light spicy red, like a zinfandel, or even pinot noir. But just have one glass.
We're on our way. Now we can make something rich and fattening next time.
But as usual, I digress. In her books, and on her show, Nigella talks about how, after days of indulgence, she has what she calls her "temple days," where she prepares and eats very simple, very healthy food, to try to clear away the ravages of the excess (that's her phrase, not mine. But I'll steal it).
As we are emerging from the frenzy of Thanksgiving/Xmas/New Year's, it is indeed time for "Temple Days" for us all. For me, that means trying to stick to vegetables and legumes as much as possible, olive oil instead of butter, simple vegetables, fresh fruit, etc.
If you're going to eat that way, the food better be damn good.
Which brings me to the subject of spices and spicy food. I use a LOT of spices. And I use them dry, as compared to herbs, which I try to use fresh ALWAYS. What's the distinction? Oh, I KNEW you were gonna ask me that. MY distinction is that if it's a leaf I'm using , it's an herb . If it's a flower, a seed, a fruit, etc, it's a spice. It may be artificial, but that's what I use to distinguish them. And if it's a spice, I'll use it dry.
Americans are not good with spices. I think the reason for that is that getting spice into food takes time. And for us Yanks, it's all about rush rush RUSH. Even though, as I hope to show you, it doesn't take MUCH time.
The other reason I think we're not good with spices is that we equate spicy with hot. And that simply is not a good equation. Spicy food is not always hot, and vice versa. Go to a good Indian restaurant. A GOOD Indian restaurant and ask them to bring you an assortment of dishes, from mild to hot. ALL of them will be imbued with spice. And all of them take time to prepare. And, and perhaps this is another reason why Americans don't cook much with spice, most of them have very soft textures, because of the long cooking time. We all want to hear the "crunch," the "snap," when we eat. There are all kinds of studies that companies that make things like potato chips have carried out to maximize "crunch." So if instead of "crunch" our teeth sink into something very soft, we feel like we're eating baby food. What a shame.
The dish that follows is something I saw in a cooking magazine, with a few modifications (of course). I like the recipe because it qualifies as "temple food." Not much fat, lots of fiber, despairingly healthy. And it's tasty. And it gives us a chance to play with spices.
I've written before of my love of lentils. For this recipe, you want the simple brown ones - you know, the ones that cost a buck a pound. This is also a very economical dish if you have the spices on hand. And if you don't , get them.
You can half this recipe with ease. And you can ease up on the spices, because there's a real zing to this preparation. But I would suggest that you make it as written, and then if it's too hot and/or spicy, mix some steamed vegetables into it, or eat it with lots of rice. And if you want to have it on a day that is not a "temple day" for you, add some sour cream, or cheese, or both to it. Dairy always mollifies heat and spices.
So, here we go. You need one onion, four garlic cloves, and two dry cups of lentils. For spices, you will need FOUR tablespoons of chili powder (what strength is up to you. Ask the merchant how hot it is. Ask for a taste if you can), and you'll also need two tablespoons of ground cumin. Also, about a quarter teaspoon of cayenne pepper. (The recipe also called for dried oregano, but I didn't see the point, so I left it out). Finally, a cup of either tomato sauce, or crushed tomatoes (remember my rule: get the whole tomatoes and crush them yourself). Finally, one of the most important ingredients in cooking: water. You'll need eight cups.
Now, chop the onion, and also the garlic, but keep them separate. Heat four teaspoons (that's a tablespoon and a teaspoon) of olive oil in a big pot, and add the onions. Cook them at medium heat for two minutes, and then add the garlic for another half minute or so.
Now, the spicing. Toss all of your spices in with the onions and garlic and stir. You're going to get a wonderful aroma coming off from the pot, and the onions will get completely coated with this wonderful red "stuff." What the recipe I worked with neglects to tell you is that if you don't add a couple of tablespoons of water at this point, your spices will burn and the dish will taste miserable. Every Indian and Mexican cook knows this. Now, you do too. Stir things for about three minutes (that wasn't too long for you, was it), and now add the lentils, the tomatoes, and the water. Cover the pot so it comes to a boil faster. When it does, lower the heat, put the cover back on, and let it bubble away for about half an hour, or until the lentils are cooked to a tenderness that you like. Let the dish sit, and here, adjust the dish with salt and pepper. (The reason we didn't do this early on is because the vegetables will pick up the salt first, and they can only hold so much. You want the spice to get IN the onions and also IN the lentils).
As this sits, it will thicken, and you'll get something that really feels and looks like a very thick soup. You'll also get about 2.5 quarts of it. Thats a LOT of temple food, but that's okay because you probably have friends who are in the same situation.
That certainly was easy, wasn't it? You can eat this, as I say, as a meal onto itself, with rice and/or steamed vegetables, but I think you could also poach a nice piece of fish and put it right on top of a mound of the lovely stuff. Something like monkfish, or cod, or one of the milder white fishes.
Of course, I should be counseling you to drink water with this, but it's a Temple day , not a Day of Moritification. Have a beer, or some gewurztraminer, or a nice, light spicy red, like a zinfandel, or even pinot noir. But just have one glass.
We're on our way. Now we can make something rich and fattening next time.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
risotto
Ok, what's going on? You may ask. For the last few months of 2007, we were making things like quiche, and roasted beets, and lasagna. Nice, simple comfort foods. Now, it's 2008 and we did DUCK. And now RISOTTO. What's going on?
Well, what's going on is a "minor chord" here, as I try to explain that these dishes that no one makes, because they're too complex, and winds up eating in restaurants, at very high prices, are really extremely easy. I told my Italian teacher that I was going to blog risotto, and he looked at me and asked "do people really need to be told how to make THAT?'
Well, yes and no. As I hope this will explain, risotto is easy. It's absurdly easy. And it can be very inexpensive. And you can play with it as you like. And finally, as with so many foods, the myths that have grown up around this dish are like the forest that grew around Sleeping Beauty's palace: just a little perserverance, and they're gone.
To make risotto, you need four basic ingredients: fat, an onion, rice and a flavored liquid. EVERYTHING ELSE IS OPTIONAL!!!! The one I'm describing here is the most basic of basic risottos, sometimes called "risotto milanese," although it doesn't feel Milanese to me.
Let's start with fat. Risotto, again, for reasons I will never understand, is considered a NORTHERN Italian dish. That means butter, instead of olive oil. Okay, so let's use butter. No, wait. Let's use a mix. The reason for the mix is that this is a preparation that is done on the stove, and butter burns. Adding olive oil to the butter makes it harder to burn it. Let's take half and half - say two tablespoons of each.
Now, to the onion. It can be an onion, a leek, a handful of scallions, garlic greens, shallots, any kind of onion type vegetable you have around. Whatever you use, chop it as finely as you can. Don't turn it into paste, but do a nice, small chop as best as you can. Garlic is optional, and depending on what other options you put in the risotto, you may decide to add it, or not. Let's leave it out for now.
Turning to the rice, the one MUST is to use an Italian variety of rice. These varieties are short grain (you can tell if you compare one of them to a standard rice, or to basmati right away). Short rices have a fair amount of starch in them, and the grains stick together. This is a good thing when you're making risotto. The most common one is arborio, and this makes really good risotto. A grade up from that is carnaroli, and to my taste, it makes the best risotto. Nanno is considered the king of the Italian rices, but I think it makes a wimpy risotto. Start with arborio, because it's least expensive, and if you enjoy this process - and it's a very enjoyable process - move up to carnaroli. For enough to feed four people as a first course or a side dish, you'll need a good cup of this rice.
Finally, the liquid. This should be something that tastes good on its own. NEVER water. Traditional is broth. Chicken broth. But you can use beef broth, you can use fish stock, you can use wine, and you can use squid ink in combination with other things. Again, it depends on what else you're putting into the final product. For the one I'm explaining now, use chicken stock, or use a light vegetable stock. I'm not kidding when I say this: for the one cup of rice, you should have six cups of liquid ready. Put the pot with the liquid in it next to the burner where you're cooking the risotto, and keep the liquid hot. Have a ladle ready.
Okay, now we start cooking, and as the myths explode, I will tell you. Melt the butter into the olive oil, at a medium heat. When it's melted, add the onion element, and cook it very briefly, just until it begins to go translucent. Add the rice and stir it into the fat. Keep stirring. (they always forget to tell you this, but starch burns, so rice burns. Keep it moving). You WILL see a change in the color of the grains: they will go from translucent, to a white color. That's what you want. You've "toasted" the rice.
Now, we come to the part that everyone knows about risotto, and the reason why no one wants to do it. Get your ladle, and add a nice, heaping bowlful of liquid right into the rice. Stir. You'll see it steam up and disappear. When it does so, add some more. Keep doing this, and stirring, until the liquid doesn't disappear right away. It will probably take no more than four ladles of this. Lower your heat.
We are not going to bust the biggest myth of risotto making: how many recipes have you seen that say "stir constantly?" You don't have to. If you keep the heat low, and keep an eye on the liquid, once you've gotten through those 3 or 4 ladles, you're fine. You have to keep on adding liquid, and you add it when you can draw a line with your spoon, through the rice, and it doesn't flow back together again. Keep on doing this, until you've used up about four cups of the liquid. Then taste a few grains of the rice. Does it taste just a little harder than you want it to? If it does, then it's ready. If it's not, add more liquid until it gets to "just more than aldente." When you get there, turn off the heat, add one more half ladleful of broth, and let it sit. While it's sitting, you can gussy it up. For example, this is where you "Mount" the risotto" by adding a couple more tablespoons of butter, or olive oil. Also, now that the heat is off, you can stir in grated cheese.
And you're done. If you do a classic milanese, you will have crushed and stirred a nice sized teaspoon (I get extravagant and use a tablespoon) of saffron to the stock, and your finished product will be a beautiful golden color. Recipes talk about serving this immediately, and it really IS best eaten right away. But if you don't, that's fine too. It WILL keep. Just don't add the cheese until the last minute.
Different styles of risotto are characteristic of different regions. In Venice, for example, a proper risotto is supposed to be wet enough so that you can "form a wave" in your plate. In the south, it's much drier. You can make the pick and make it wetter, if you like, by adding more stock to the finished dish (the e xtra two cups are there, for that, or if you need more than the standard four cups to one cup of rice to get it soft enough. It does happen).
And there you are. Now you have a delicious new dish in your repertoire, that probably took you less than thirty minutes to do.
Actually, you now have a FAMILY of dishes, because you can play with this. You can add meat to risotto. If you do, I would add it ten minutes into the cooking of the rice, and then you would use beef stock, or a mix of beef stock and/or chicken stock, and red wine. You can also use ALL red wine, and make a stunning risotto. You can use fish stock, or clam juice, and then add fish at the very end of the cooking time. No cheese in this one, if you please, but put some chopped fennel fronds, or some dill, or something lovely and green and fresh at the end. You can use a vegetable. Here, when you put the vegetable in depends on how firm the vegetable is. For example, if you make my favorite squash blossom risotto, put them in at the end. They're very delicate. If you're using beets (golden beet risotto with chicken stock and cheese? Yes, thank you, I'll have a second portion), you would add them early, and in small cubes, so that they cook all the way through, and you WOULD add cheese. And so on and so forth. There are dessert risotti which, to be honest, I find vile. What's wrong with rice pudding? (and you CAN use this rice variety to make wonderful rice pudding). Stick to savories.
Risotto milanese is classically served with osso bucco, a dish we MAY get to, at some point, but I serve it sometimes just as it is, in a big bowl, for our dinner. As one of Guy's favorite vegetables is green peas, I will make a hybrid of a classic saffron risotto and a dish called "risibisi" (rice and peas. We'll do that one in the spring), by tossing a big handful of fresh (or, at this time of year, frozen), peas into the risotto at the end.
Have some fun. Make a risotto. And yes, you CAN use the leftovers. You may like the leftovers better. What do you do? You stir in an egg, a little more cheese, get a pan hot, and make rice fritters.
YUM
Well, what's going on is a "minor chord" here, as I try to explain that these dishes that no one makes, because they're too complex, and winds up eating in restaurants, at very high prices, are really extremely easy. I told my Italian teacher that I was going to blog risotto, and he looked at me and asked "do people really need to be told how to make THAT?'
Well, yes and no. As I hope this will explain, risotto is easy. It's absurdly easy. And it can be very inexpensive. And you can play with it as you like. And finally, as with so many foods, the myths that have grown up around this dish are like the forest that grew around Sleeping Beauty's palace: just a little perserverance, and they're gone.
To make risotto, you need four basic ingredients: fat, an onion, rice and a flavored liquid. EVERYTHING ELSE IS OPTIONAL!!!! The one I'm describing here is the most basic of basic risottos, sometimes called "risotto milanese," although it doesn't feel Milanese to me.
Let's start with fat. Risotto, again, for reasons I will never understand, is considered a NORTHERN Italian dish. That means butter, instead of olive oil. Okay, so let's use butter. No, wait. Let's use a mix. The reason for the mix is that this is a preparation that is done on the stove, and butter burns. Adding olive oil to the butter makes it harder to burn it. Let's take half and half - say two tablespoons of each.
Now, to the onion. It can be an onion, a leek, a handful of scallions, garlic greens, shallots, any kind of onion type vegetable you have around. Whatever you use, chop it as finely as you can. Don't turn it into paste, but do a nice, small chop as best as you can. Garlic is optional, and depending on what other options you put in the risotto, you may decide to add it, or not. Let's leave it out for now.
Turning to the rice, the one MUST is to use an Italian variety of rice. These varieties are short grain (you can tell if you compare one of them to a standard rice, or to basmati right away). Short rices have a fair amount of starch in them, and the grains stick together. This is a good thing when you're making risotto. The most common one is arborio, and this makes really good risotto. A grade up from that is carnaroli, and to my taste, it makes the best risotto. Nanno is considered the king of the Italian rices, but I think it makes a wimpy risotto. Start with arborio, because it's least expensive, and if you enjoy this process - and it's a very enjoyable process - move up to carnaroli. For enough to feed four people as a first course or a side dish, you'll need a good cup of this rice.
Finally, the liquid. This should be something that tastes good on its own. NEVER water. Traditional is broth. Chicken broth. But you can use beef broth, you can use fish stock, you can use wine, and you can use squid ink in combination with other things. Again, it depends on what else you're putting into the final product. For the one I'm explaining now, use chicken stock, or use a light vegetable stock. I'm not kidding when I say this: for the one cup of rice, you should have six cups of liquid ready. Put the pot with the liquid in it next to the burner where you're cooking the risotto, and keep the liquid hot. Have a ladle ready.
Okay, now we start cooking, and as the myths explode, I will tell you. Melt the butter into the olive oil, at a medium heat. When it's melted, add the onion element, and cook it very briefly, just until it begins to go translucent. Add the rice and stir it into the fat. Keep stirring. (they always forget to tell you this, but starch burns, so rice burns. Keep it moving). You WILL see a change in the color of the grains: they will go from translucent, to a white color. That's what you want. You've "toasted" the rice.
Now, we come to the part that everyone knows about risotto, and the reason why no one wants to do it. Get your ladle, and add a nice, heaping bowlful of liquid right into the rice. Stir. You'll see it steam up and disappear. When it does so, add some more. Keep doing this, and stirring, until the liquid doesn't disappear right away. It will probably take no more than four ladles of this. Lower your heat.
We are not going to bust the biggest myth of risotto making: how many recipes have you seen that say "stir constantly?" You don't have to. If you keep the heat low, and keep an eye on the liquid, once you've gotten through those 3 or 4 ladles, you're fine. You have to keep on adding liquid, and you add it when you can draw a line with your spoon, through the rice, and it doesn't flow back together again. Keep on doing this, until you've used up about four cups of the liquid. Then taste a few grains of the rice. Does it taste just a little harder than you want it to? If it does, then it's ready. If it's not, add more liquid until it gets to "just more than aldente." When you get there, turn off the heat, add one more half ladleful of broth, and let it sit. While it's sitting, you can gussy it up. For example, this is where you "Mount" the risotto" by adding a couple more tablespoons of butter, or olive oil. Also, now that the heat is off, you can stir in grated cheese.
And you're done. If you do a classic milanese, you will have crushed and stirred a nice sized teaspoon (I get extravagant and use a tablespoon) of saffron to the stock, and your finished product will be a beautiful golden color. Recipes talk about serving this immediately, and it really IS best eaten right away. But if you don't, that's fine too. It WILL keep. Just don't add the cheese until the last minute.
Different styles of risotto are characteristic of different regions. In Venice, for example, a proper risotto is supposed to be wet enough so that you can "form a wave" in your plate. In the south, it's much drier. You can make the pick and make it wetter, if you like, by adding more stock to the finished dish (the e xtra two cups are there, for that, or if you need more than the standard four cups to one cup of rice to get it soft enough. It does happen).
And there you are. Now you have a delicious new dish in your repertoire, that probably took you less than thirty minutes to do.
Actually, you now have a FAMILY of dishes, because you can play with this. You can add meat to risotto. If you do, I would add it ten minutes into the cooking of the rice, and then you would use beef stock, or a mix of beef stock and/or chicken stock, and red wine. You can also use ALL red wine, and make a stunning risotto. You can use fish stock, or clam juice, and then add fish at the very end of the cooking time. No cheese in this one, if you please, but put some chopped fennel fronds, or some dill, or something lovely and green and fresh at the end. You can use a vegetable. Here, when you put the vegetable in depends on how firm the vegetable is. For example, if you make my favorite squash blossom risotto, put them in at the end. They're very delicate. If you're using beets (golden beet risotto with chicken stock and cheese? Yes, thank you, I'll have a second portion), you would add them early, and in small cubes, so that they cook all the way through, and you WOULD add cheese. And so on and so forth. There are dessert risotti which, to be honest, I find vile. What's wrong with rice pudding? (and you CAN use this rice variety to make wonderful rice pudding). Stick to savories.
Risotto milanese is classically served with osso bucco, a dish we MAY get to, at some point, but I serve it sometimes just as it is, in a big bowl, for our dinner. As one of Guy's favorite vegetables is green peas, I will make a hybrid of a classic saffron risotto and a dish called "risibisi" (rice and peas. We'll do that one in the spring), by tossing a big handful of fresh (or, at this time of year, frozen), peas into the risotto at the end.
Have some fun. Make a risotto. And yes, you CAN use the leftovers. You may like the leftovers better. What do you do? You stir in an egg, a little more cheese, get a pan hot, and make rice fritters.
YUM
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
"Quacking" in the New Year
So we get to 2008. We have finished our annual New Year's Day party, which, by any standard, I would say was a success. It always amazes me, and also thrills me, when I put food out on the table, buffet style, and it disappears. Every year I think a new record is set, and the same is true this year. After cooking for three days, Guy and I had sandwiches for dinner. In the past, it's been pizza or Chinese takeout. This year, our friend Dan brought us a container of minestrone and tortellini, knowing that this kind of thing happens. Honestly, the sandwiches were just easier. Deep breaths now. Because now I have to deal with what is in the market, most of which will not be local, and have to deal with the most difficult months for me to cook in: December through April. And I'm spoiled. I can get vegetables. I think of people now, and before, who couldn't. Is it no wonder that canned and frozen vegetables became so popular.
But I digress. Moreso than usual. The topic for today is duck.
People do not cook duck at home. I think I understand why. They have the correct image of the bird as being very fatty, very bony, and not at all practical if you're cooking for more than two people.
Well, duck is fatty. But only parts of it are bony. And while a WHOLE duck is impractical for more than two people, the solution there is to cook parts of the duck. I will come to cooking duck legs in a future post, but as the year begins, and we're all looking for easy, let's start with duck breast.
A few other things. People believe that duck is expensive. Compared to chicken, it is. But that's an incorrect comparison, in my view. Duck has to be considered red meat. You must compare duck breast prices to the price of a good , tender steak. Because that is what it is closest to, in terms of quality of eating, how to prepare it, and so forth.
You can buy half breasts of duck almost everywhere. There are different breeds, and you should try things like Pekin or maillard or muscovy (if you can find it), to find what you like. Half of a duck breast is a rather large portion for one person, but most people can dispatch it without much difficulty. When we eat it, we are usually eating other things, to cut the richness of the duck (Yes, duck is VERY fatty), and we share one half breast between us. It is really up to you. I would suggest cooking two half breasts at the same time, and if there is any left, using the meat in a salad later in the week.
When you get the duck breasts out of their packages, you will notice right away how fatty and firm they are. Most of that fat is going to cook off, if you do it correctly. This is how. First, make a cross pattern of cuts, with a very sharp knife, down to the very red meat, without cutting into the meat. Then, salt and pepper the duck breasts.
Now, put them fat side down into a COLD pan that is big enough to hold both of them. No oil, no water, (although some writers say to start with water, I do not agree), and turn the heat to low. Within a minute or so, you'll see the breasts begin to release the fat. And continue to release it. And continue to release it. This is something that amazes me every time I cook duck breasts. I almost have a running debate with myself as to how much fat it's going to render. I think the most has been one whole cup for two half breasts.
Anyway, keep the slow cooking going for about 7 minutes. How long is exactly right? If you really want to know, what you should do is drain off the fat at two minute intervals, and when you see almost nothing coming off, you're done. Then, turn the halves over and cook, fat side UP, for about two minutes, no more. You'll see a wonderful dark color on the skin, and the kitchen will smell, well, gamy. That's duck for you.
Now is the time to "glaze" the duck. With what? Well, I'm partial to lavender honey, but you can use any glazing sauce you want. Cranberry sauce is not a bad thing. Neither is current jelly. Or apricot jam. Brush it on and watch it melt into the skin. Then leave the critters alone for five minutes, to rest.
You can serve the whole half breast to your guest or guests, but come on! You're serving a treat, and you haven't spent a lot of time here, so do it right. Cut the breast halves into thin slices on a sharp diagonal (you keep the crispy bits at the end for yourself). The easiest way to do this is to hold the breast half with a set of tongues, or with your hands (and if you use your hands, you get to lick the delicious glaze off at the end). Then fan the slices out on your plate with whatever else you're serving. A nice simple boiled green vegetable and a baked or boiled potato makes one helluva nice, weekday meal. And you can do this. Yes, you really can. You can be in and out of the kitchen in less than half an hour with a truly luxurious supper.
You DID promise to be good to yourself and to your loved ones in 2008, didn't you? Hmmmm?
Now, while I said duck breast is quick ( which it is), duck legs ain't. Like I said, I'll come back to this. Do keep in mind that the legs are the part of the duck that are working, all the time (unlike farmed chickens, even farmed ducks swim, and those legs are muscular). As a rule , lots of muscle means a braise, and a braise means long and slow. And that can be good. Like other things that are long and slow and good, but that's something else you promised yourself this year, isn't it? You know what I mean, the occasional bubble bath (yeah, right).
But I digress. Moreso than usual. The topic for today is duck.
People do not cook duck at home. I think I understand why. They have the correct image of the bird as being very fatty, very bony, and not at all practical if you're cooking for more than two people.
Well, duck is fatty. But only parts of it are bony. And while a WHOLE duck is impractical for more than two people, the solution there is to cook parts of the duck. I will come to cooking duck legs in a future post, but as the year begins, and we're all looking for easy, let's start with duck breast.
A few other things. People believe that duck is expensive. Compared to chicken, it is. But that's an incorrect comparison, in my view. Duck has to be considered red meat. You must compare duck breast prices to the price of a good , tender steak. Because that is what it is closest to, in terms of quality of eating, how to prepare it, and so forth.
You can buy half breasts of duck almost everywhere. There are different breeds, and you should try things like Pekin or maillard or muscovy (if you can find it), to find what you like. Half of a duck breast is a rather large portion for one person, but most people can dispatch it without much difficulty. When we eat it, we are usually eating other things, to cut the richness of the duck (Yes, duck is VERY fatty), and we share one half breast between us. It is really up to you. I would suggest cooking two half breasts at the same time, and if there is any left, using the meat in a salad later in the week.
When you get the duck breasts out of their packages, you will notice right away how fatty and firm they are. Most of that fat is going to cook off, if you do it correctly. This is how. First, make a cross pattern of cuts, with a very sharp knife, down to the very red meat, without cutting into the meat. Then, salt and pepper the duck breasts.
Now, put them fat side down into a COLD pan that is big enough to hold both of them. No oil, no water, (although some writers say to start with water, I do not agree), and turn the heat to low. Within a minute or so, you'll see the breasts begin to release the fat. And continue to release it. And continue to release it. This is something that amazes me every time I cook duck breasts. I almost have a running debate with myself as to how much fat it's going to render. I think the most has been one whole cup for two half breasts.
Anyway, keep the slow cooking going for about 7 minutes. How long is exactly right? If you really want to know, what you should do is drain off the fat at two minute intervals, and when you see almost nothing coming off, you're done. Then, turn the halves over and cook, fat side UP, for about two minutes, no more. You'll see a wonderful dark color on the skin, and the kitchen will smell, well, gamy. That's duck for you.
Now is the time to "glaze" the duck. With what? Well, I'm partial to lavender honey, but you can use any glazing sauce you want. Cranberry sauce is not a bad thing. Neither is current jelly. Or apricot jam. Brush it on and watch it melt into the skin. Then leave the critters alone for five minutes, to rest.
You can serve the whole half breast to your guest or guests, but come on! You're serving a treat, and you haven't spent a lot of time here, so do it right. Cut the breast halves into thin slices on a sharp diagonal (you keep the crispy bits at the end for yourself). The easiest way to do this is to hold the breast half with a set of tongues, or with your hands (and if you use your hands, you get to lick the delicious glaze off at the end). Then fan the slices out on your plate with whatever else you're serving. A nice simple boiled green vegetable and a baked or boiled potato makes one helluva nice, weekday meal. And you can do this. Yes, you really can. You can be in and out of the kitchen in less than half an hour with a truly luxurious supper.
You DID promise to be good to yourself and to your loved ones in 2008, didn't you? Hmmmm?
Now, while I said duck breast is quick ( which it is), duck legs ain't. Like I said, I'll come back to this. Do keep in mind that the legs are the part of the duck that are working, all the time (unlike farmed chickens, even farmed ducks swim, and those legs are muscular). As a rule , lots of muscle means a braise, and a braise means long and slow. And that can be good. Like other things that are long and slow and good, but that's something else you promised yourself this year, isn't it? You know what I mean, the occasional bubble bath (yeah, right).
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