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Posts from the ‘Sunday Night Special’ Category

Sunday Night Special: Black Bean Shrimp & Braised Eggplant

I take back what I said not too long ago about Sundays not counting calorically. After last weekend’s Super Bowl (I just realized that Superbowl isn’t one smooshed word, and I’m not about to go back and fix it) Sunday bounty, I had to cool my jets this weekend with healthy Chinese inspired recipes from A Spoonful of Ginger, a practical cookbook that tweaks Asian classics while retaining the spirit of the original. I should really use it more often.

Black_bean_scallopsI tweaked Nina Simonds adaptation of steamed shrimp with black bean sauce and substituted scallops. I didn’t have plain black beans but a prepared sauce that already contained garlic so I added slightly less of that ingredient. You briefly bake the seafood in a foil-covered dish, then allow it to steam for about ten minutes. Of course, I could’ve just used a steamer, but it’s one less thing to worry about on stovetop in a cramped kitchen. Supposedly, fermented black beans are good for depression, stress and ridding toxins. It couldn’t hurt to eat them every now and then.

Spicy_braised_eggplantA curried pumpkin dish was suggested as a side but I thought a stewy eggplant braise would be better. I spruced up the recipe by adding a small handful of chopped cilantro and a drizzle of chile oil at the end. The two layers of chile heat really popped and the eggplant was way more unctuous than you’d expect with the tiny amount of fat that was used. Hmm, the side note accompanying this recipe is a little less appetizing than the relieving depression bit from the former. It says that eggplant is used to ease bowl movements with hemorrhoids in Chinese medicine. Good to know, huh?

Baked Black Bean Shrimp

2 pounds large shrimp (16 to 20 per pound), shelled and deveined
Shrimp Marinade:
3 ½ tablespoons rice wine or sake
2 tablespoons minced fresh ginger

1 tablespoon canola or corn oil

Seasonings:
2 tablespoons fermented black beans, rinsed and drained
2 tablespoons minced scallions, white part only
1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon dried chile flakes

Sauce:
¾ cup chicken broth
2 ½ tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons rice wine or sake
1 tablespoon sugar
1 ½ teaspoons cornstarch

2 tablespoons minced scallion greens

Rinse the shrimp, drain, and pat dry. Using a sharp knife, carefully cut along the back and open each shrimp to butterfly it. Put the shrimp in a bowl and add the marinade. Toss lightly to coat, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F. Arrange the butterflied shrimp shell side down, with the flaps open, in 1 or 2 heatproof quiche or pie pans.

Heat a wok or heavy skillet over high heat, add the oil, and heat until very hot. Add the seasonings and stir-fry for about 10 seconds with a slotted spoon or spatula until fragrant. Add the premixed sauce and cook, stirring, to prevent lumps, until it has thickened. Then spoon the sauce over the butterflied shrimp and cover with aluminum foil. (Alternatively, you may place the fish pan in a steamer over boiling water.)

Bake the shrimp on the middle rack for about 8 to 9 minutes, or until they have become opaque. (Steam for 10 to 12 minutes.) Uncover the pan and sprinkle the minced scallion greens over the shrimp. Serve immediately with steamed rice and a vegetable.

Serves 6

Saucy Braised Eggplant

1 1/2 pounds eggplant, ends trimmed, and cut lengthwise into 1/2-inch thick slices
1 teaspoon salt

Seasonings:
1 1/2 teaspoons hot chile paste
1 1/2 tablespoons minced garlic
1 1/2 tablespoons minced fresh ginger

Braising Liquid:
1 1/2 cups chicken broth (vegetable broth can be substituted)
2 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 1/2 tablespoons rice wine or sake
1 tablespoon Chinese black vinegar or Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon cornstarch

1 tablespoon canola oil
2 cups red onion cut into 1/2-inch dice
1 medium red pepper, cored, seeded and cut into 1/2-inch dice
2 tablespoons minced scallion greens

Arrange eggplant slices on a cookie sheet lined with paper towels and sprinkle both sides with salt. Let them sit 1 hour, then pat them dry and cut into 1 1/2-inch-long pieces.

Prepare the Seasonings and mix the Braising Liquid ingredients in a bowl. Set by the stove.

Heat a large flame-proof casserole or Dutch oven. Add the oil and heat until hot. Add the chile paste and stir-fry for 5 seconds over high heat, then add the other seasonings and stir-fry until fragrant. Add the red onions and sauté about 1 1/2 minutes, then add the red pepper and sauté another minute. Add the eggplant cubes and stir-fry for 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the braising liquid, cover, and heat until boiling. Reduce the heat to medium, cover, and cook about 12 to 14 minutes, or until the eggplant is tender. Uncover, increase the heat to high, and cook until the sauce is reduced to a glaze. Transfer to a serving platter and sprinkle with the scallion greens.

Serves 6

Recipes from A Spoonful of Ginger by Nina Simonds. Knopf, 1999

Sunday Night Special: Superbowl Snacks

Cinci_chili Though sometimes I’m tempted to go a little overboard with ingredients and preparations, I decided that highbrow was no way to go on Superbowl Sunday. It’s just wrong, and with thirty or so guests (of varying acquaintance levels) crammed into a not large living room (and Rich who annually takes over our tiny kitchen with his big production Cincinnati chili), it’s also impractical. Crowd pleasing is wiser than challenging or exquisite. Originally, I wanted to only make Kraft recipes but I couldn’t bring myself to put Miracle Whip in a pecan-crusted cheesy football.

Buffalo_wingsJames manned the deep-fryer and made classic buffalo wings followed by a few batches of fried chicken as the evening wound down. We were thankful for the chocolate mousse cake brought from Bay Ridge’s Aunt Butchies. But I cracked it out a bit late, after people started leaving, and now I have nearly half the cake in the refrigerator (I thought my 2007 plan to slowly lose half a pound a week would be ridiculously easy, yet last week I gained weight. Why can some people peacefully coexist with baked goods and fried food while others lose their shit?).

Bacon_datesI’ve wanted to make some version of bacon-wrapped dates for a while (ruamki too, but no one will eat chicken livers) but it’s not the type of thing you whip up for yourself. There appears to be an east west debate over this snack: A.O.C.’s version with parmesan or Red Cat’s take with a goat cheese and almond stuffing. The goat cheese sounded messier to prep so I went the hard cheese route but substituted manchego and used fresh jumbo dates from Sahadi’s that you could eat like candy (I totally don’t understand date haters—they’re definitely my favorite dried fruit). I also picked up a half pint of hummus and baba ganouj. Sure, I've made both from scratch before and considered doing so this Sunday along with some salsa, but really, during tv watching events involving lots of alcohol it's not worth the effort. Plus, Sahadi's versions are better than my homemade style, and tomatoes aren't in season, anyway.

QuesadillasAt least one meatless dish seemed in order since I was expecting around five vegetarians. Keeping with the simple, non-fancy theme, I went with monterey jack and corn quesadillas. A little boring and inoffensive, though I spruced them up with a quick side dip using sour cream, lime juice and a chopped chipotle. Easy.

Sunday Night Special: Green Fish Curry & Spiced Carrots

It’s strange that there were two Costco stories in the New York Times on Sunday. Technically, only one, “Spending: 24 Rolls of Toilet Paper, a Tub of Salsa and a Plasma TV,” was specifically about Costco. But they did choose to illustrate the article about Islam in the suburbs with an imam, his wife and a giant bag of Tostitos. And also printed one of my favorite quotes ever:

“The Prophet said, ‘Whoever is frugal will never suffer financially,’ ” said the imam, who shops weekly at the local store and admits to praying for its owners. He smiled. “These are the people who will go to heaven.”

So telling that he speaks fervently of a New Jersey location. I don’t know if anyone affiliated with the Brooklyn branch (that he apparently had the good sense to stay away from during his many years in Bay Ridge, just one neighborhood away from the borough’s only Costco) will be seeing pearly gates in their future.

James got up early and ventured to the soul-sucking Sunset Park location for Superbowl wings. I stayed in bed because I don’t do NYC Costcos (while still crowded, the one in Edison, NJ is a dream. They have a huge wine department and you can actually get samples because in the suburbs customers aren’t deranged and mobbing for slices of Uncrustables, thimble-sized paper cups of squash soup, organic apple wedges and kielbasa slivers).

Later in the afternoon, I did naively try to run in and out of the Red Hook Fairway for a few items. Big mistake. I ended up sweaty and angry and minus dashi and pita bread (though I had an epiphany in the organic baking aisle where I accidentally ended up after being shoved around a bit. I’d been looking for frozen grated or shredded unsweetened coconut, which you sometimes find in Asian shops and frequently find in Latin American stores. Neither exists in Carroll Gardens and the bag I had stashed in the freezer had gone bad and tasted like earwax. I’m glad I tested a pinch before using it. But you can find non-frozen shredded coconut with no added sugar near things like Newman-O’s and spelt pasta, if you happen to have those types of groceries where you shop. I try to stay away from such things).

I haven’t posted one of these look at what I made missives in a while because I haven’t done any heavy-duty weekend cooking lately. I decided to take to the kitchen this Sunday, primarily as procrastination tactic. I’m supposed to turn in some writing by end of month but would rather tackle Indian recipes than come up with punchy ways to describe non-descript dining rooms.

I bought Mangoes & Curry Leaves some time ago, and while it’s pretty to look at I haven’t cooked a single thing from the book (there might be a correlation between glossiness and perceived usefulness. Years ago I received a paperback review copy of Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweetand cooked from it a ton. Maybe if I had the whopping, coffee table version I would’ve been hesitant to use it).

I’ve been trying to eat more fish and use up forgotten freezer items so green curry tilapia was perfect. I had everything I needed except the above-described shredded coconut. The curry leaves I’d frozen ages ago seemed to have held up ok. When I was in Kuala Lumpur I visited a family that had fragrant things like curry leaves and pandan just growing in their backyard. While no fan of farming or gardening, it would be pretty cool to just step outside and snip or pluck what you need for any given recipe. I swapped flounder for tilapia because that’s what I happened to have.

The recipe ended up being more labor intensive than I’d anticipated but that’s often a hallmark of a chosen Sunday meal. I took the suggested side dish literally and made spiced grated carrots, which furthered my thrifty use things up theme. I’m scared to death of mold and passed pull by dates but I had a full fat Fage yogurt in the refrigerator that had expired four days earlier that I couldn’t bear to toss out because it was $1.79 (20 cents cheaper at the weirdo desolate Italian store on Court St. than at the Korean deli next store). I didn’t realize it wasn’t the 2% version until after I bought it and couldn’t fit it into my recent strict-ish eating regimen without like not eating breakfast, lunch and snacks for a day. So, it smelled and tasted fine (I’ve gotten a bad Greek yogurt, it’s pretty unmistakable) and I was thrilled to save it from the trash. In case you were wondering, I don’t worry about fat grams and calories on Sundays (honestly, I don’t worry about them half as much as I should during the week either. I’m not a Cathy about what I consume and you couldn’t pay me to eat Tasti D Lite. I’m not buying that Pinkberry bullshit either—frozen yogurt is not food). Sheesh, it’s the day of rest.

The two dishes were a smart pairing. The fish was hotter than I’d expected (I didn’t seed the chiles), sharp flavors slightly mitigated by the 4 tablespoons of butter/ghee you use for “tempering” the dish. The carrots were sweet and tangy. Both had earthy qualities from the black mustard seed and curry leaves. Unfortunately, I forgot that in a moment of hippiness I bought brown basmati rice at Trader Joe’s. It actually has a nice chewy quality and psychologically counterbalanced the butter and yogurt that laced everything else on my plate.

Green_fish_curry
I took quite a few photos of this meal, but no matter what they came out mildly unappetizing. I'm not sure if that's due to a lack of plating or photography skills.

Tilapia Green Curry

Ingredients
About 1 1/2 pounds tilapia or other fish fillets
1/4 cup coconut oil or vegetable oil
2 teaspoons black mustard seeds
1/2 cup fresh or frozen curry leaves
2 cups water (1 cup if using tomato)
4 to 6 pieces fish tamarind, or substitute 1 cup chopped (preferably green) tomatoes
1 1/4 teaspoon salt

Masala Paste:
3 tablespoons chopped ginger
1 tablespoon chopped garlic
1/2 cup chopped shallots
6 green cayenne chiles, seeded and coarsely chopped
1/2 cup packed coriander leaves and stems
1/2 cup fresh or frozen grated coconut, or substitute dried shredded coconut mixed with 1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon turmeric

Tempering:
About 4 tablespoons ghee or butter
4 to 6 fresh or frozen curry leaves
1/2 cup sliced shallots
2 tablespoons minced garlic or garlic mashed to a paste
3 green cayenne chiles, stemmed and cut in half

Rinse the fish fillets, cut into 2-inch pieces, and set aside.

To prepare the masala paste, place the ginger, garlic, shallots, chiles, and fresh coriander in a food processor, mini-chopper, or stone mortar and process or grind to a coarse paste. Add the coconut and process or grind to a paste (if the mixture seems dry, add a little water as necessary to make a paste). Transfer to a bowl and stir in the ground coriander and turmeric; set aside.

To prepare the tempering, heat the ghee or butter in a medium heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Toss in the curry leaves, wait a moment, then add the shallots and garlic. Lower the heat to medium and cook until starting to soften, for about 4 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the chiles and cook until the shallots are very soft and touched with brown, about 5 minutes more. Set aside.

Heat the oil in a wok or karhai or a heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the mustard seeds, and when they have popped, add the curry leaves and masala paste. Lower the heat to medium and cook, stirring occasionally, until the oil rises to the surface, about 5 minutes. Add the water and fish tamarind or tomatoes and bring to a boil. Add the salt and the fish and simmer, turning the fish once, for 3 to 5 minutes, until just barely cooked through.

Add the tempering mixture and simmer for a minute, then serve hot.

Serves 4-5

Spiced Grated Carrots, Kerala Style

Ingredients
2 tablespoons raw sesame oil or vegetable oil
1 teaspoon black mustard seeds
Abuot ½ cup minced onion
¼ teaspoon tumeric
1 tablespoon minced ginger or giner mashed to a  paste
2 green cayenne chiles, slit lengthwise and seeded
About 10 fresh or frozen curry leaves
3 to 4 medium carrots, coarsely grated (About 1 ½ cups)
½ teaspoon salt, or more to taste
Coarsely ground black pepper (optional)
About ½ cup plain yogurt, preferably full-fat

Heat the oil in a medium heavy skillet or a wok or karhai over medium-high heat. Add the mustard seeds and partially cover until they pop, then add the onion and turmeric and stir-fry for 2 minutes. Add the ginger, chiles, and curry leaves and stir-fry until the onion is very soft, about another 5 minutes. Toss in the carrots, salt, and pepper, if using. Stir-fry for about 5 minutes, or until the carrots are very soft.

Turn the heat to very low. Add the yogurt and stir for a minute or so to warm the yogurt through and blend flavors; do not allow it to boil.

Serve in a shallow bowl.

Serves 4

Recipes from Mangoes & Curry Leaves by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid. Artisan, 2005.

Sunday Night Special: Rabbit Etouffée & Cheese Grits

RabbitIt’s a two-fer. Man cannot live on pie alone so there had to be prequel to the baked apple dessert. Around Thanksgiving I was surprised to see rabbit prominently displayed on an end shelf in the walk-in meat locker at Western Beef. I don’t recall seeing it there before, but really, I’ve never looked. Rabbit’s a weirdo meat (though hardly in the realm of pony flesh) that I’d order in a restaurant but don’t consider cooking at home. But I think that’s just because it’s not typically in stores (I thought I was remembering incorrectly, but I could’ve sworn being mesmerized by a tidy box labeled Pel-Freez Rabbit in the lean-over not stand-and-face freezer case when I was a kid. I used to wonder if it was really rabbit or a misnomer like Welsh rabbit. I’m thrilled to see that this product is real) that I patronize.

Presented with the opportunity, we had to snatch a plastic-wrapped hare up to freeze for later. Later came last night when we decided to give it the etouffée treatment. Many rabbit recipes could be interchangeable with chicken. Matched with the recommended cheese grits, this was a rich, Cajun-ish (I won’t say Creole since that’s become hotly debated in the past month) stew that seemed just right for rabbit. Of course, practically any protein would taste good smothered in buttery bacon laced gravy. I didn’t notice until after starting the recipe that it was from Jacques-Imo’s (their website hasn’t been updated in eons and was as such pre-Katrina) a New Orleans restaurant that cooks incredibly creamy, sauced and decadent dishes like alligator cheesecake. I knew the rabbit etoufeée would be good based on its roots alone.

EtouffeeNot only have I never made rabbit, I’ve never had a grit set foot in my house either. This recipe combines a pot of quick cooked grains with two types of cheese (I broke down and bought some six-year-aged Quebec white cheddar [there was also a 3 ½ year version and I was torn] instead of going for the cheapo Tropical brand like I might normally do because I don’t eat cheddar with any frequency. That makes no sense, right? My new thing is that if I buy something rarely I can justify spending more on it. Like I don’t eat eggs often so I bought the pricier brown organic ones. I’m still not clear on why brown equals healthier to consumers, though) milk and eggs and gets baked until semi-firm and browned. Grits purists might object, but it was a nice treatment of ground corn.

This very second I’m working the night shift and eating a dreaded grapefruit (yes, I brought other things to snack on—I’m not a total citrus martyr). All I can think about is getting home for a post-midnight snack of grits and rabbit.

Sunday Night Special: Apple Pie

I hate (well, don’t love) fruit in general, but I hate waste even more so I’ve been trying to come up with uses for the unwelcome 15-pound bag of grapefruit and 10-pound sack of red apples that were recently brought into my house. I ate a grapefruit for breakfast last week and brought apples to work a couple of times but that’s enough. An apple pie seemed like the perfect solution to this un-tasty dilemma. The grapefruit, I’m still thinking on.

I don’t think I’ve ever made an apple pie. Baking has never done much for me, somehow it feels more like drudgery than cooking. Usually, I turn to the web for inspiration but with something so straightforward as an apple pie, I thought I’d paw through my cookbook standards that rarely get used because I’ve outgrown them.

The New Basics Cookbook seemed like a good pie recipe candidate. It was one of the first non-used cookbooks I bought for myself, probably when I was nineteen or so. At the time, I didn’t want traditional like Joy of Cooking (though the new release is on my Christmas wish list) or pathetic like but I was looking for standards and explanations. The soft cover, 849-paged, The New Basics fit my criteria, plus I thought it was terribly sophisticated. Now it reads kind of like a time capsule.

Published in ’89 and purchased in ’91, I probably haven’t cracked it open in a decade (except for the instructions on how to poach a chicken breast). It was written by New York caterers (I just saw Silver Palate jarred sauce at Fairway on Friday so I guess they’re still cashing in) so there is a bent towards entertaining and presentation. The recipes include lots of fruity vinaigrettes, pestos, high-end pizzas (very Wolfgang Puck) and twists like using Asian pears in a waldorf salad and. I wasn’t even familiar with things like kohlrabi, celeriac or sorrel (and I’ve still never cooked with any of those items).

Something that stands out was an hors d'oeuvre called beggars purses, which was essentially a crepe filled with caviar and crème fraiche and bundled up like a mini bag and tied with a chive. I hadn’t given this finger food any thought until the early ‘00s when an old college friend of James’s mentioned that she’d just attended the wedding of a mutual friend who’d married some old rich restaurateur and that they served beggars purses at the reception. This was relayed kind of mockingly like “how ‘80s.” The critical detail that I’m fuzzy on was whether or not the groom was the inventor of beggars purses, which I swear was what this woman said. If so, that’s amusing to me because the recipe in The New Basics was titled Barry Wine’s Beggar’s Purses and the headnote reads, “Barry and Susan Wine have one of the most stunning restaurants in the country, New York’s Quilted Giraffe.” This was a big deal place two decades ago, not that I would know first hand, I was just reading about it in The United States of Arugula. Did this girl marry Barry Wine? Ha, I think she did. I don’t know her name, but Johns Hopkins was the common denominator among this group of people and the Catskills is ringing a bell.

Wow, enough unnecessary asides. (Is not being able to focus on one topic for any length of time and constantly being distracted by unimportant bits an affliction that can be cured with pharmaceuticals? I would be a much more productive person if I could stay on track. And I don’t mean A.D.D., which I definitely don’t have despite hating to wait and take turns and feeling restless—who doesn’t?) I just wanted to make a pie, not a boring pie, and be done with it so I could eat the damn thing. With the addition of grated cheddar and a touch of dry mustard in the crust, the Apple of Her Eye Pie sounded interesting (the name is mildly retarded but many of the recipes in this book are kind of cutesy) without being over the top.

Apple_pie

I ultimately had trouble with the crust. It fell apart a little and I had to do some dough spackling on the top so it’s not picture perfect. I must’ve done something wrong because it wouldn’t hold together when I cut it either. Of course none of these cosmetic traumas affected the taste. The overall flavor was sweet and more vanilla-y and candied than I would’ve expected. I suspect sharper green apples (which I do like) would’ve been more fitting but it was lame red delicious that needed using up.

I was excited to be able to get rid of eight apples but it turned out that my pie plates were 9” rather than the 10” called for in the recipe so I had filling overload. I only managed to squeeze in about five apples and now am faced with a plastic container jammed with leftover sweet-spiced fruit.

Apple of Her Eye Pie

PASTRY:
3 cups unbleached all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon dry mustard
Pinch of salt
8 tablespoon unsalted butter, cold (1 stick)
1/3 cup shortening, cold
3/4 cup sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
6-8 tablespoons ice water

FILLING:
8 tart apples
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 teaspoon vanilla

TOPPING:
1 teaspoons sugar
Pinch of cinnamon

DIRECTIONS:
1. Prepare the pastry dough: Combine the flour, sugar, mustard & salt in a mixing bowl & toss well to blend. Using a pastry blender, 2 knives or your fingertips, cut in the butter & shortening until the mixture forms small clumps. Then add the cheese & work it in until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

2. Sprinkle the water, 2 tablespoons at a time, over the mixture & toss with a fork until the mixture can be gathered into a ball. Knead it once or twice in the bowl and divide it into slightly unequal halves. Wrap both halves & chill in the fridge for 45 min.

3. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

4. Prepare the filling: Peel, core and halve the apples; cut them into 1" chunks. Combine the apples & melted butter in a large bowl. Add the remaining filling ingredients and toss until the apples are evenly coated.

5. Roll the smaller portion of the chilled dough out on a lightly floured surface to form a 12" circle. Transfer it to a 10" pie plate & press it into the bottom and sides of the plate. Trim the dough, leaving a 1" overhang. Reserve any excess dough.

6. Roll the larger portion of dough out to form a slightly larger circle.

7. Fill the pie plate with the apple mixture, mounding it slightly. Brush the edge of the bottom crust with water, then transfer the top crust over the apples, tucking it slightly inside the rim. Trim off any excess, allowing a 1" overhang again. Seal the edges of the crusts together with a fork & crimp decoratively. Trim away any remaining excess pastry.

8. Prepare the Topping: Mix together the sugar & cinnamon. Prick the top crust with a fork in several places & cut a small vent in the center. Brush the top lightly with water & sprinkle it with the cinnamon sugar. If you like, cut out shapes, such as leaves or apples, from the dough trimmings & decorate the top crust with them.

9. Bake until the filling is bubbling and the top is golden, about 1-1/4 hours.

Borrowed from The New Basics Cookbook by Julee Rosso & Sheila Lukins. Workman Publishing, 1989.

Cut_pie

This was an opportunity to crack out the good china, ok, it was just the $16.99 Tord Boontje for Target dessert plates. I think that was a brilliant choice of designer for Christmas, considering how his style is so naturally wintery. I almost broke down and bought some of his “real” dishes last year. Do you think Target could commission a budget version of this $33,500 chandelier?

The only danger of baking is that if I make a pie, I will eat a pie. I was horrified a few episodes ago on Heroes when The Cheerleader and her mom threw away a batch of cupcakes because they were “too good.” What the fuck? There’s no such thing. And I’m assuming that’s why I don’t have a cheerleader figure. Is that how people (women) live? I’m going ten steps the other direction and plan on using the extra apple filling to make fritters later in the week. I’ve pretty much given up any attempts at health for December. With three weeks left in the year, I’m going to be carefree (or careless, depending on your temperament).

Sunday Night Special: All the Pretty Horses

From scratch used to be a mystery to me. When grade-school-aged, I overheard my mom incredulously telling a neighbor, “Marva makes cakes from scratch. That’s what Ron expects.” It sounded like a dirty secret and I wanted to know what scratch meant. “Not from a box” was the short answer. I had no idea you could even make a cake any other way so this was a startling concept. Looking back, I think my mom was stymied by the idea of going through the extra effort to please your husband.

Time-consuming baking or not, Ron and Marva already stood out on our street. For one, they were the only black people for blocks (possibly miles). Two, Marva had multiple sclerosis and when she wasn’t shaking and stumbling down the cul-de-sac, holding onto signposts for balance, she was riding around in an Amigo. And possibly oddest of all, Ron was a nurse. If scratch was strange, a male nurse was practically inconceivable to me.

Fonduemeat I like scratch now, but sometimes I like novelty even more. Hence, Sunday evening’s instant French-Canadian supper. While in Montreal over Labor Day weekend, we went nuts at run of the mill supermarkets and became fixated with fondue section. There was a freezer case with paper thin cuts of meat, cans of ready to heat bouillon and bottled dipping sauces. No prep to speak of. We even happened to have a packet of powered béarnaise sauce in the pantry to add to the readymade meal. Shabu shabu-style fondue (or steamboat, as they’d say in Singapore and Malaysia) is strangely popular in Montreal. Outside of the suburban Melting Pot chain, I’m not sure that cook-it-yourself meat is a huge American dining concept.

Cooking horses most definitely isn’t an American dining concept. Never having been much of a pony-loving girl, I guess I’m less sentimental about treating equines as a food source (I think pigs are much cuter and yet a plate of bacon doesn’t bother me).  In addition to picking up a tray of pre-sliced beef, there was no way we could pass up the exotica like bison and yes, cheval, a.k.a. old gray mare. And apparently horses are having the best week ever. Later last night I stumbled on this horsemeat taboo article on Chow and then saw a bit on The F Word about horse milk being the new thing. Yes, horse milk.

Fondue_1Honestly, it was difficult to ascertain exactly what horsemeat tasted like. The broth was distinctly flavored and permeated everything dunked in it. Béarnaise isn’t exactly light either (Arby’s Horsey Sauce as appropriate accompaniment?) so any natural essence was doubly masked. It didn’t taste like beef, though if someone fed it to me blindly I would likely peg it as such. The raw flesh is much redder and deeper in color (in photo: note pale beef on the left and burgundy horse on the right). The texture is chewier, maybe slightly tangy (there was a chalky aftertaste that I noticed while trying to fall asleep a good four hours after eating. I doubt it had anything to do with horse and more to do with our poor meat handling skills. Our packs started defrosting while in the hotel mini fridge, and not only were we nearly charged for every item removed to fit in the frozen flesh but blood had leaked all over the remaining tiny bottles and snacks). I forgot to take cooked photos. I’m so not a dedicated documentarian when it’s time to eat.

Eating horsemeat freshly prepared by an experienced chef would probably be a fairer assessment of its charms (or lack thereof). But I don’t see that happening any time soon in NYC. Leave it to those freewheeling Canadians. I swear, if Americans knew what carnivorous horrors were going on up there, they’d build a 700-mile wall along our northern border too.

Sunday Night Special: Pork & Shellfish

Mussels_with_serrano I used to harbor fantasies of eating hors d’oeuvres for dinner (yes, my imagination is that lame). The dainty notion seemed mildly exotic when I was younger but now they just call the concept tapas, Spanish or not. As an adult I’ve grown to realize that putting together lots of tiny bites can be fussy and time consuming; fun for a party, not so much for mid-week dinner. But this was Sunday so it was ok.

I’m not sure what possessed him, but James went through two of my food magazines sitting on the coffee table and marked all these recipes to make. I’ve never seen such cooking enthusiasm so I didn’t made any comments to deter his sudden interest even though I did think it was odd that he picked three Gourmet recipes all on the same page with the same pork and seafood theme and that he only picked Cooking Light dishes from the roasting feature, but whatever.

Bacon_wrapped_scallops Since it turned freezing this weekend (how can it be 80s and 40s within ten days of each other?) I was gung ho on pot roast. That was the original Sunday night plan. But after eating braised lamb shoulder the evening prior at Flatbush Farm, I was totally stewed-out. We’d already tried the Grilled Pork Chops with Clams and Chorizo earlier in the week so all that remained were the two other Jew unfriendly double whammies from Gourmet. Sea Scallops with Spiced Bacon and Mussels with Serrano Ham it would have to be.

Bacon_scallops_close_upHowever, these were hors d’oeuvres. No matter, I was able to live out my mini food dream (who says I never what I hope for?). And tiny doesn’t mean light in my world. Just because there were two of us rather than the 60 intended for the mussels and 28 for the scallops, didn’t mean we scaled down our operation. It simply meant we had a shit load of bite sized treats to gorge on (and I wonder why I can’t get my B.M.I. down one point into the merely overweight category). Who needs a $12 per bitsy portion gouging? You can be thrifty and gluttonous when you recreate the small plates experience in your own home.

In case you’re wondering, we didn’t actually eat the whole damn slew in one sitting. Luckily, I’m not averse to day-old seafood. All that spice and acid–cayenne, curry powder, sherry vinegar–must preserve to some degree, right?

Sunday Night Special: Spicy Cold Noodles

I could've predicted that the second sick days were no longer a part of my life, I'd get sick. Last week was the first week that I was needed to come every day and I had to stay home Wednesday so I could lay in bed. I didn't even wake up until 12:30pm today and now I'm so exhausted I'm about to temporarily hit the hay and it's only 6pm.

Spicy_tripe I've been craving chewy spicy things like crazy. I think it's because I barely have any taste in my mouth and head's all stuffed up, so burning and chomping give me a boost. Today I've been eating spicy bamboo shoots from the jar and tripe from a plastic container. I'm not a fount of knowledge where Chinese food is concerned but I try and food hobbies keeps me out of trouble. (I'm so irked. This afternoon I wanted to watch the first installment of the new Gourmet show Diary of a Foodie, especially since it was a China episode, but something was wrong with channel 13; the image kept blinking and the sound was sputtering. I DVR'd it and now the episode is totally unwatchable. And to add insult to injury, both channels on either side were fine. Unfortunately, I had no desire Buried Secrets on 12/Lifetime or The Sandlot on 14/ABC Family.) I'm not clear how you're supposed to eat these often-pickled condiments. Do you put a couple spoonfuls over rice? Eat them on the side with other dishes?

Spicy_bamboo_shot_bottleI don't know who makes these bamboo shoots, the only English clue reads Hunan ZhuZhou Aolin Seasoning Foods Factory, which turns up zilch if you Google it. I might just be drawn to this brand because of the cute fire-breathing chile logo. I usually get their spicy radish variety, which comes with a red cap rather than a purple one. The ingredients listed are simply bamboo shoot slice, sesame oil, red pepper and salt but it seems like there's something else in there. The mushy, oily crunchy consistency almost feels like canned sardines.

Yesterday I went on one of my NJ shopping-for-things-I-could-find-in-NYC-but-don't-have-the-patience-to-do-so missions and hit Costco, Trader Joe's, Home Depot, Pathmark, Applebee's (more later) and Kam Man.

There are plenty of Asian grocery stores in NYC, just as there are numerous American grocery stores. And they're cramped and crowded and infuriating. Maybe it's because I didn't grow up in an urban setting nor a third world nation, so the charm of fighting for space and skimming shelves while being jostled is lost on me. Hong Kong Supermarket in South Plainfield is a lovable wide aisled gargantuan, my favorite, but I didn't make it out there yesterday. Kam Man in Edison isn't necessarily more spacious than its inner city counterparts, but it's more manageable by suburban default. It's easy to maneuver and the shoppers are relatively well behaved.

Kam_man_ingredients It can be painful trying to read packages or even stand still at the Hong Kong Supermarket in Sunset Park. No matter how you position yourself you're invariably in someone's way. Like I said, I'm no Chinese pro so I appreciated being able to leisurely scout out all the items on my list in peace. And almost everything I needed was strangely in a one foot radius: dried tsao-ko, which I'd never heard of but need for a red-braised dish, Sichuan peppercorns, dried chiles, Chinkiang vinegar and sesame oil.

I originally had plans to make a bunch of Sichuan dishes tonight but ended up solo this Sunday and hate making tons of food just for myself. Mondays I work till midnight. So, the beef and lotus roots will have to wait. Tonight I went simple made a cold noodle recipe from Land of Plenty.

Spicy_cold_noodles I suspect these noodles might be the dish pictured on the cover of the book. If so, mine don't resemble that aspirational model in the slightest. I tossed mine which gave them a murkiness instead of sheen and used a full 16-ounce package of noodles instead of the suggested half-pound so the overall appearance was dry, not that slick, chile oil Sichuan style. But hey, they still tasted good.

Spicy Cold Noodles with Chicken Slivers
Ji Si Liang Mian

About ½ pound fresh Chinese noodles, Shanghai-style, a little thicker than spaghetti
1 ½ tablesppons peanut or salad oil
3 ounces bean sprouts
1 small cooked chicken breast or some leftover chicken meat
4 scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced

Seasonings
2 tablespoons sesame paste, thinned with 1 tablespoon water
1 ½ tablespoon dark soy sauce
½ tablespoon light soy sauce
1 ½ tablespoons Chinkiang or black Chinese vinegar
1 tablespoon white sugar
2-3 cloves or garlic, crushed
½ teaspoon ground roasted Sichuan pepper
2-3 tablespoons chili oil with chile flakes
1 tablespoon sesame oil

Cook the noodles in plenty of boiling water until they are just al dente-take care not to overcook them. Rinse with hot water from the kettle, shake them in a colander and quickly spread them out to dry. Sprinkle over the peanut oil and mix it in with chopsticks to prevent the noodles from sticking together.

Blanch the bean sprouts for a few seconds in boiling water, then refresh in cold water. Drain them well. Squash the chicken breast slightly or whack it with a rolling pink to loosen the fibers, and tear or cut it into slivers about ¼ inch thick.

When the noodles and bean sprouts are completely cold, lay the bean sprouts in the bottom of your serving bowl or bowls. Add the noodles.

To serve, either combine all the seasonings in a bowl and pour the mixture over the noodles, or just scatter them over one by one. Top the dish with a small pile of chicken slivers and a scattering of scallions. Allow your guests to toss everything together at the table.

Serves 4 as a snack, 2-3 as a main lunch dish

Sunday Night Special: Crispy Watercress Salad

I'm no recipe writer/developer and have never had desire to be one. The concept is foreign to me, kind of like writing a song or making up music. I played instruments growing up: piano, clarinet, drums, but I've never had the foggiest idea how people create songs from scratch. I never imagined that it was too difficult (it seems like I constantly get random My Space invites from unheard of bands–there are more bands then seconds in the day) I just didn't have the urge.

Last Sunday I didn't have the wherewithal to actually go to Sripraphai, but I was dying for their crispy watercress salad, which is like nothing else I've ever had at an NYC Thai restaurant. It's not like you can just skim through a cookbook and find a recipe. So, I was forced to make one up (based upon recipes from numerous books). It wasn't spot on, but it wasn't bad either.

The original uses squid but we didn't have any so I added more chicken and shrimp. It was a little too poultry-heavy, which made a heartier salad. I also realized that Sripraphai uses way more watercress, mine ended up being more of an accent than a component.

Dressing
2 teaspoons chile paste (I used jarred namprik pao)
6 Thai chiles, chopped
2 tablespoons fish sauce
juice of one lime
2 teaspoons white sugar

Mix all the ingredients. These are approximate proportions. I'm still learning how to balance the hot, sweet, sour salty thing. I thought it tasted right, but when tossed with the salad the overall flavor seemed too tart and not spicy enough.

Salad
1 chicken breast, about 6 ounces
6 ounces shrimp, shelled
2 large handfuls of watercress
Small handful of cashews, salted is ok
¼ red onion, thinly sliced (shallots are more authentic but mine always rot on me)
2 tablespoons cilantro, chopped
4 tablespoons mint, chopped

First, poach the chicken breast. You just bring it to a boil in water and then turn off the heat and cover for an hour.

While the chicken is cooking, prepare the dressing, slice the onion and chop the herbs.

After the chicken is done and cool enough to touch, shred into bite size pieces.

Then it's battered, fried watercress time. Against my better judgment I used a tempura recipe from Tyler Florence (how do you trust a guy who calls jalapeños halapeenos. Bobby Flay also says peeno and it makes me nuts). It didn't adhere that well to the watercress. The original has a fairly heavy coating and isn't really tempura-like at all, now that I think about it. I fried the coated greens in a few inches of oil until golden, maybe a couple of minutes and then blotted on paper towels.

Lastly, briefly boil the shrimp, not longer than a minute.

Now you can toss everything together, the fresh stuff, cooked things and the dressing. Sprinkle with the cashews and enjoy.

This recipe could feed two people who really like crispy watercress salad or four as more of a dainty starter.

Salad_2
The Original

Watercress_salad
My Rendition

Sunday Night Special: Soy & Paella

Citrus_soy_chicken As is often the case, Sunday I was feeling bored and lazy and couldn’t be bothered to make anything too ambitious. I wanted to make do (urgh, or is that due—I’ve always been confused) with what was already in the house. I had a bunch of frozen drumsticks and a bunch of mint that was rapidly blackening.

I found something to make use of both in Terrific Pacific. I'm sure I've mentioned recipes (i.e. violated copyright) from this book before. It’s surprising, how much use I've gotten out of this collection over the years. It must be the accessible versions of Southeast Asian cuisine that manage to stay un-bastardized. Though I'll admit the name has never done much for me.

Sometimes I'm bothered when a cookbook is written by someone not native to the cuisine, but that’s never been the case with Anya Von Bremzen. Allowances are made in this book like using anchovy paste instead of shrimp paste, but it's a suggestion not mandatory. Plus, the book is a decade old—I think American tastes have expanded since the '90s.

Sweet Soy and Citrus Baked Chicken

3 ½ pounds chicken pieces
2 teaspoons ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
Salt, to taste
1/3 cup Ketjap Manis or sweet soy sauce
1 small seedless orange, peeled and chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon grated orange zest
1 tablespoon grated lime zest
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 ½ tablespoons maple syrup
¼ cup chopped fresh mint leaves
½ teaspoon dried red pepper flakes
½ cup chicken stock or canned broth, or more as needed.

Rinse the chicken pieces well and pat dry with paper towels. Prick the skin all over with tines of a fork.

In a small bowl, combine the coriander, cayenne and salt. Rub the chicken with the mixture. Set aside.

Combine the soy sauces, orange, garlic, orange and lime zests, vinegar, lime juice, maple syrup, mint and pepper flakes in a food processor and process to a puree.

Place the chicken in a large shallow dish, add the marinade and turn the pieces to coat well. Cover and refrigerate for 4 to 6 hours, or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Place the chicken and marinade in a roasting pan. Roast until the chicken begins to brown, about 15 minutes, then reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees F. Pour the stock into the pan and roast the chicken until cooked through, about 25 more minutes, basting with the pan juices. Add some more stock if the bottom of the pan looks dry.

Transfer the chicken to a serving platter, spoon the pan juices over it, and serve.

Serves 4 to 6

From Terrific Pacific by Anya Von Bremzen. Workman Publishing, 1995.

* * *

Paellafixings While vaguely on the topic of this cookbook author (whom I have a minor fixation with–and you thought I was just nutty for Malan Breton): In March, I bought James a slew of Spanish groceries like sweet and hot pimenton, saffron, squid ink, rice from Despaña for his birthday. I'd been wondering when they'd get put to use. Last week he used a paella recipe from Anya Von Bremzen’s most recent (I got it for Christmas) foray into Spanish cuisine, The New Spanish Table. I haven’t made anything from it, maybe I’m more intimidated by Spanish cooking than Asian.

Chiringuito Seafood Paella
Paella a la Marinera

About 5 cups shrimp shell stock or 3 ½ cups clam juice diluted with 1 ½ cups water
1 large pinch of saffron, pulverized in a mortar
5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
½ pound monkfish or other firm-fleshed fish, cut into 1-inch chunks
Coarse salt (kosher or sea)
4 to 6 ounces cleaned squid, bodies and tentacles cut into 1-inch pieces
10 medium-size garlic cloves; crushed with a garlic press, 2 minced
2 large, ripe tomatoes, cut in half and grated on a box grater, skin discarded
1 ½ teaspoon sweet (not smoked) paprika
1 ¾ cups short-to medium-grain rice
½ cup minced fresh flat-leaf parsley
12 small little neck clams, scrubbed
12 jumbo shrimp, shelled and deveined
2 lemons, cut into wedges, for serving
Allioli, for serving

Place the shrimp stock in a medium-size saucepan and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Add the saffron and keep the stock at a simmer until ready to use.

Place 3 tablespoons of the olive oil in a 15- or 16-inch paella pan set over a single burner and heat on medium until it starts to smoke. Add the monkfish and cook until barely seared, about 1 minute, seasoning it lightly with salt. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the fish to a bowl. Cook squid, stirring, until just seared, about 2 minutes, seasoning it with salt.

Push squid to edge of the paella pan, where it's not as hot. Add 1 tablespoon of the olive oil to center of the pan. Add crushed garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add tomatoes to the center of the pan, reduce heat to low, and cook, stirring the tomatoes several times, until thickened and reduced, 5 to 7 minutes. Using two wooden spoons, push squid toward center of pan and mix it up with the tomatoes. Add the paprika and stir for a few seconds.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Add the rice to the paella pan and stir it gently to coat with the pan mixture. Pour in 3 1/2 cups of simmering stock (5 cups if you are using bomba rice), keeping remaining stock simmering in case it is needed later. Set the paella pan over two burners, stir in parsley, and shake the pan gently to distribute the rice evenly. Cook over medium heat 5 minutes. Periodically move and rotate the pan so that the liquid boils evenly.

Press the clams and the monkfish into the top of the rice and cook until the cooking liquid is almost level with the rice but the rice is still rather soupy, another 2 to 3 minutes. If the liquid is absorbed too fast and the rice still seems too raw, sprinkle on some more stock.

Transfer the paella pan to oven and bake until the clams open and the rice is tender but still a little al dente, about 15 minutes. Check the paella a few times and sprinkle more stock over the rice if it seems too al dente. Remove the paella from the oven and discard any clams that have not opened. Cover the pan with aluminum foil and let stand for 5 minutes. Uncover the pan and let stand another 5 minutes (the rice gets better as it stands).

Paella While the rice is standing, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet or wok over high heat. Stir-fry shrimp, a few at a time, adding some of minced garlic to each batch, until shrimp are bright pink and just cooked through, 2 to 3 minutes per batch. Transfer the shrimp to a bowl and keep warm.

To serve, arrange lemon wedges around the edge of the paella and decorate the top with the shrimp. Serve paella straight from pan, along with the allioli, for stirring into rice.

Serves 6 as a first course, 4 as a main course

From The New Spanish Table by Anya Von Bremzen. Workman Publishing, 2005.