I’ve really slacked on posting lately, and I've mentally exhausted every conceivable excuse to sit on my ass and watch the replay of this weekend's NHL All Star Game. I can't justify going another day without sharing with my readers, so I’ll give you a simple, quick recipe - no backstory, no history, no flowery description, just a wonderful, health-conscious recipe that requires under 10 minutes of prep time. Enjoy!
Marinated Salmon with Lemongrass & Mint
1 lb. wild salmon fillet, skin removed, sliced ¼” thick across the grain
¼ c. thinly sliced red onion
¼ c. Boston Olive Oil Company Lemongrass Mint White Balsamic Vinegar
1 t. coarse kosher salt
1 t. cracked black peppercorns
Combine all the ingredients in a large, nonmetallic bowl with a lid. Secure the lid tightly, shake vigorously, and let marinate for 4-24 hours in the refrigerator, shaking occasionally. Serve cold, either on a dramatic black serving plate, or on a bed of looseleaf lettuce.
If you are not comfortable with the idea of eating uncooked fish, you can lightly steam or lightly broil the fish for an equally delicious dish!
Monday, January 30, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Ingredient Spotlight - Chanterelle Mushrooms
This is yet another one of those occurrences in which I never intended to create a blog-worthy recipe but ended up doing so. It all started with a basketful of chanterelle mushrooms on display at Whole Foods. Being a mushroom lover and never having cooked chanterelles, I picked one up, placed it in a produce bag, tossed it in my basket, and drifted over to the jicamas and peppers…and then I inched my way back to the chanterelles, putting another large mushroom in the bag. And another. With a shoplifter’s quick hand and shifty eyes scanning the periphery, I loaded up an entire produce bag as if I was trying to get away with wrongdoing. I guess I felt kind of guilty about taking most of the Chanterelles and depriving my fellow shoppers.
Other wild mushrooms such as morels, black trumpets, and truffles may garner all the accolades, but chanterelles are stars in their own right. When I took the first bite, I was overwhelmed, in a good way. The flavor was not what I expected, and the texture was absolutely delightful. Tasting a chanterelle for the first time was only comparable to meeting that one special person who cements in your mind the reason why it never worked out with any of your past loves and lovers and erases any doubts you had about whether or not you made the right call in holding out for something more congruent.
It’s no surprise that the flavor of a food that grows on the floors of coniferous forests amongst damp and decomposing plant debris would be characterized as “woodsy” or “earthy,” but I cannot think of a better description. The flavor is delicate; chanterelles are neither pungent nor musty. Unlike a porcini or a truffle, a chanterelle would not overpower other flavors in a recipe. When sautéed, chanterelles have a texture similar to slightly past its prime lemon meringue pie filling - delicate, but still firm.
When I cooked these, I planned on simply sautéing the chanterelles in a ton of butter with some sliced garlic. About two minutes into the cooking process, I splashed a bit of the Pouilly-Fuisse in my wine glass into the pan with the mushrooms, adding a bit more moisture and flavor to the mix. While stirring with one hand and using the other to peruse the ‘net for info on chanterelles via iPhone, I decided to add a few crushed juniper berries to the mix so that the flavor would be reminiscent of the pine forests in which the mushrooms grow. I didn’t stop at juniper berries. All these flavors needed a piquant boost; I achieved this by adding an ever-slight dash of finely ground white pepper, then I added a splash of light cream to fuse the whole dish together. This was definitely not what I had in mind as I was hoarding chanterelles at Whole Foods like a crack fiend, but it turned into a cohesive dish with flavor combinations that seemed like a big “DUH” after the fact. I am not exaggerating when I say that my eyes rolled back in my head with pleasure when I took the first bite. This is one of the best side dishes I’ve ever created. Hell, this is one of the best recipes I’ve created, period. I’m very proud of this one.
As an aside, the entire time that I was eating my ego-inflating chanterelle creation, I couldn’t stop thinking about roast chicken. This dish would pair extremely well with a very subtly seasoned roast chicken. Try this recipe if you can get your hands on fresh chanterelles!
Chanterelles with Juniper Cream Sauce
2 T. butter
2-3 cloves garlic, sliced
1 lb. Fresh chanterelle mushrooms, sliced
Splash Pouilly-Fuisse, Chardonnay, or other oaked white wine
1/8 t. finely ground white pepper
4-6 juniper berries, crushed with the back of a spoon*
2 T. light cream
Pinch sea salt
Mild paprika, to garnish**
Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the garlic and sauté for a 2-3 minutes, or until the garlic has turned slightly golden. Add the mushrooms, wine, white pepper, and juniper berries. Sauté, stirring gently but frequently, for approximately 10 minutes, or until the mushrooms are no longer firm. Add the cream and sea salt; sauté for a minute or two longer. Serve on individual plates, and garnish with a dash of mild paprika.
* If you cannot locate juniper berries, simply add a teaspoon or two of gin, or purchase them online.
** If you have a jar of paprika that has lost its flavor, don’t throw it away - use it as a colorful yet flavorless garnish.
Fresh chanterelle |
It’s no surprise that the flavor of a food that grows on the floors of coniferous forests amongst damp and decomposing plant debris would be characterized as “woodsy” or “earthy,” but I cannot think of a better description. The flavor is delicate; chanterelles are neither pungent nor musty. Unlike a porcini or a truffle, a chanterelle would not overpower other flavors in a recipe. When sautéed, chanterelles have a texture similar to slightly past its prime lemon meringue pie filling - delicate, but still firm.
Chanterelles cooking |
As an aside, the entire time that I was eating my ego-inflating chanterelle creation, I couldn’t stop thinking about roast chicken. This dish would pair extremely well with a very subtly seasoned roast chicken. Try this recipe if you can get your hands on fresh chanterelles!
Chanterelles with Juniper Cream Sauce
2 T. butter
2-3 cloves garlic, sliced
1 lb. Fresh chanterelle mushrooms, sliced
Splash Pouilly-Fuisse, Chardonnay, or other oaked white wine
1/8 t. finely ground white pepper
4-6 juniper berries, crushed with the back of a spoon*
2 T. light cream
Pinch sea salt
Mild paprika, to garnish**
Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the garlic and sauté for a 2-3 minutes, or until the garlic has turned slightly golden. Add the mushrooms, wine, white pepper, and juniper berries. Sauté, stirring gently but frequently, for approximately 10 minutes, or until the mushrooms are no longer firm. Add the cream and sea salt; sauté for a minute or two longer. Serve on individual plates, and garnish with a dash of mild paprika.
* If you cannot locate juniper berries, simply add a teaspoon or two of gin, or purchase them online.
** If you have a jar of paprika that has lost its flavor, don’t throw it away - use it as a colorful yet flavorless garnish.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Cavatappi with Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce
Great tomatoes in January, in Boston. If you're a serious foodie, that sentence probably just made you raise your eyebrows and question my credibility; as well you should have. However, I've been buying these tomatoes for quite some time, and I've never been disappointed in them, even in January.
Grown locally by Backyard Farms, these tomatoes are packed with flavor and rival some tomatoes I've had in August. I probably go through at least one box of their cocktail tomatoes per week, if not two or three. The other day, I got the idea to roast them and make a garlicky tomato sauce, and the idea evolved into this quick, easy, and delicious pasta recipe. Try this one the next time you're able to find good tomatoes!
Cavatappi with Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce
1/2 lb. cavatappi, or other textured short pasta
8 cherry tomatoes, quartered
1/4 c. butter
1 c. dry white wine
1/3 c. tomato paste
1 c. grated pecorino romano
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
generous amount coarsely ground black pepper
salt (if necessary)
handful fresh basil leaves, chiffonade-cut*
additional basil leaves, for garnish
Cook the pasta in heavily salted water. In the meantime, preheat the oven's broiler. Arrange the cherry tomatoes on a foil-lined baking sheet with one cut side down (as shown in picture above). Broil the tomatoes for 7-10 minutes, or until the tomatoes' skins have begun to blister and blacken. Remove from oven and set aside.
While the pasta cooks and the tomatoes broil, combine the butter, wine, and tomato paste in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Whisk vigorously until the tomato paste has completely broken down and blended with the wine and the butter has melted. Turn heat down to low and add the pecorino, garlic, and pepper (you probably won't need salt; pecorino is a salty cheese. Taste for seasonings and only add salt if absolutely necessary). Continue to whisk until the pecorino has completely melted. Once the pasta is cooked, drain it and add it to the sauce along with the roasted tomatoes and the chiffonade-cut basil leaves. Stir a few times until all the pasta is coated, then serve hot, garnished with fresh basil leaves.
* Chiffonade-cut is a technique often used on fresh herbs. To cut basil, stack the leaves on top of each other, roll up lengthwise, and cut into 1/8" strips. By placing the largest leaf on the bottom of the stack, the smaller leaves will be contained in the roll and the leaves will be easier to slice.
Grown locally by Backyard Farms, these tomatoes are packed with flavor and rival some tomatoes I've had in August. I probably go through at least one box of their cocktail tomatoes per week, if not two or three. The other day, I got the idea to roast them and make a garlicky tomato sauce, and the idea evolved into this quick, easy, and delicious pasta recipe. Try this one the next time you're able to find good tomatoes!
Cavatappi with Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce
1/2 lb. cavatappi, or other textured short pasta
8 cherry tomatoes, quartered
1/4 c. butter
1 c. dry white wine
1/3 c. tomato paste
1 c. grated pecorino romano
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
generous amount coarsely ground black pepper
salt (if necessary)
handful fresh basil leaves, chiffonade-cut*
additional basil leaves, for garnish
Cook the pasta in heavily salted water. In the meantime, preheat the oven's broiler. Arrange the cherry tomatoes on a foil-lined baking sheet with one cut side down (as shown in picture above). Broil the tomatoes for 7-10 minutes, or until the tomatoes' skins have begun to blister and blacken. Remove from oven and set aside.
chiffonade-cut basil |
* Chiffonade-cut is a technique often used on fresh herbs. To cut basil, stack the leaves on top of each other, roll up lengthwise, and cut into 1/8" strips. By placing the largest leaf on the bottom of the stack, the smaller leaves will be contained in the roll and the leaves will be easier to slice.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Stuffed Plantain Rolls with Callaloo, Bacon and Warm Chipotle Butter
This Christmas, Santa brought me some books on Puerto Rican and Floridian cooking. While I'm familiar with the names of most of the ingredients, I haven't had the experience of cooking with some of them, particularly plantains. I love plantain - whether it's fried, mashed, or grilled, I've always been a fan of their starchy, semi-sweet flavor. So when I saw plantains in my produce department with a "4 for $1" tag, I threw a few into my basket. Talk about an offer I couldn't refuse!
For those of you unfamiliar with plantains, they look almost identical to bananas. However, they do not taste like bananas, nor can they be eaten raw - plantains must be cooked. The great thing about plantains is that they can be eaten from their green stage to their fully black stage, each stage of ripeness offering different flavors and textures. When green, they are starchy and potato-like; when black, they are much sweeter and less firm. I like them best in the in-between phase, when the skins are starting to turn brown and spotted.
Unsure of how I wanted to cook my plantains, I reached out to my friends and my Baconbutterbooze.com Facebook followers for input, but in the end, a spark of inspiration (and my compulsion to spike everything with bacon) led me to create the recipe below. If you can find ripe plantains and callaloo, this recipe is one that I highly recommend!
Stuffed Plantain Rolls with Callaloo, Bacon and Warm Chipotle Butter
4 c. cooked callaloo leaves*
4 chipotles in adobo, minced
1 T. adobo sauce
2 t. ground ginger
1 t. garlic powder
1/2 t. ground allspice
generous amount finely ground black pepper
1/2 t. salt
2 T. bread crumbs
2 semi-ripe plantains, peeled and cut lengthwise in 4 thin slices
8 slices thick-cut bacon
8 pats butter
Warm Chipotle Butter (recipe below)
Preheat the broiler to high, and soak 16 toothpicks in water. In the meantime, make the stuffing. If the cooked callaloo has any moisture, drain it in a colander, pressing any remaining liquid out. Once drained, place it in a mixing bowl with the minced chipotles, adobo sauce, ginger, garlic powder, allspice, pepper, salt, and bread crumbs. Mix well and set aside.
Now, assemble the plantain rolls. Take each strip of plantain, create a ring, and secure with a toothpick, as shown in the photo to the left. Stuff the center with the callaloo stuffing, packing it in - it should be packed in tightly. Next, stretch a slice of bacon around the plantain, and secure with a second toothpick. Push the toothpicks in so that only the ends of each toothpick are visible - they have a tendency to burn. Finally, top each roll with a pat of butter.
Broil 3-4 minutes per side, using barbecue tongs to turn. Turn them over carefully so that you don't squish the plantains or lose the stuffing mid-turn. Once both sides are broiled, remove from the oven, turn the broiler to low, and finish under the broiler for about 10-15 more minutes.
Remove from oven, drizzle with Warm Chipotle Butter, and serve hot.
* If you cannot find fresh callaloo leaves, canned callaloo can be purchased online.
Warm Chipotle Butter
3 T. butter
1 T. adobo sauce, from can of chipotles in adobo
1 T. malt vinegar
Melt the butter in a small saucepan. Whisk in the adobo sauce and malt vinegar. Continue whisking until the vinegar's aroma has dissipated, and drizzle the hot melted butter over the Plantain Rolls.
semi-ripe plantain |
Unsure of how I wanted to cook my plantains, I reached out to my friends and my Baconbutterbooze.com Facebook followers for input, but in the end, a spark of inspiration (and my compulsion to spike everything with bacon) led me to create the recipe below. If you can find ripe plantains and callaloo, this recipe is one that I highly recommend!
Stuffed Plantain Rolls with Callaloo, Bacon and Warm Chipotle Butter
4 c. cooked callaloo leaves*
4 chipotles in adobo, minced
1 T. adobo sauce
2 t. ground ginger
1 t. garlic powder
1/2 t. ground allspice
generous amount finely ground black pepper
1/2 t. salt
2 T. bread crumbs
2 semi-ripe plantains, peeled and cut lengthwise in 4 thin slices
8 slices thick-cut bacon
8 pats butter
Warm Chipotle Butter (recipe below)
Preheat the broiler to high, and soak 16 toothpicks in water. In the meantime, make the stuffing. If the cooked callaloo has any moisture, drain it in a colander, pressing any remaining liquid out. Once drained, place it in a mixing bowl with the minced chipotles, adobo sauce, ginger, garlic powder, allspice, pepper, salt, and bread crumbs. Mix well and set aside.
Now, assemble the plantain rolls. Take each strip of plantain, create a ring, and secure with a toothpick, as shown in the photo to the left. Stuff the center with the callaloo stuffing, packing it in - it should be packed in tightly. Next, stretch a slice of bacon around the plantain, and secure with a second toothpick. Push the toothpicks in so that only the ends of each toothpick are visible - they have a tendency to burn. Finally, top each roll with a pat of butter.
Broil 3-4 minutes per side, using barbecue tongs to turn. Turn them over carefully so that you don't squish the plantains or lose the stuffing mid-turn. Once both sides are broiled, remove from the oven, turn the broiler to low, and finish under the broiler for about 10-15 more minutes.
Remove from oven, drizzle with Warm Chipotle Butter, and serve hot.
* If you cannot find fresh callaloo leaves, canned callaloo can be purchased online.
Warm Chipotle Butter
3 T. butter
1 T. adobo sauce, from can of chipotles in adobo
1 T. malt vinegar
Melt the butter in a small saucepan. Whisk in the adobo sauce and malt vinegar. Continue whisking until the vinegar's aroma has dissipated, and drizzle the hot melted butter over the Plantain Rolls.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Dried Mushroom Crisps
When I was 11, I didn't want clothes or Barbies or video games for Christmas; I wanted a food dehydrator. Weird, right? I blame it on the fact that A) I played waayyy too much "Oregon Trail" at school, B) Kirsten, the Swedish pioneer girl, was my favorite American Girls character (now discontinued...*crying*), and C) I was home sick a lot that year and developed quite an obsession for "Little House on the Prairie" reruns. I believe that those three things led me to my fascination with the American Frontier period. This meant that A) I would never be popular crowd material, and B) although I enjoyed reading fictional and nonfictional accounts of that time period, I wanted to understand the experience. I wanted to eat what they ate; hence the food dehydrator.
Humans have used drying as a food preservation method since the dawn of time, but drying was especially important to the Pioneers who set out across the country on wagon trains. Dried food was lightweight and compact, leaving more room in their wagons for other necessary supplies, like guns and whiskey.
Back to the early 90's. Along with my food dehydrator, my mom bought me a book called "How to Dry Foods" by Deanna DeLong, which I have since learned is practically the Bible of food drying manuals. Ms. DeLong offers a comprehensive guide on prep procedures and drying times for dozens of fruits and vegetables, as well as guides for making meat and fish jerky, fruit leathers, and many other helpful recipes, tips, and ideas. I tried many of them, and even at age 11, I wanted to try to do things my way (hint - orange segments do not dehydrate well).
Of all the foods I dried, sliced mushrooms produced my favorite result by far. Crisp and earthy, these babies always satisfied my crunch cravings. Because I dry my mushrooms in order to use them as snacks, my process is a bit different than that of the Italians and Chinese, who dry mushrooms simply so that they are available for use in recipes when fresh mushrooms are not in season. Imagine that - what my ancestors did out of necessity, I now do simply because I want a tasty snack! You don't even need a food dehydrator; you can do this in your oven as well. Not only is this snack delicious, it's great for all you New Year's Resolution dieters who are looking to replace your artificially flavored, partially hydrogenated, genetically engineered, deep-fried corn and potato crisps. Give this snack a shot!
* Food dehydrators are available for purchase at many major department stores and housewares stores; they can also be purchased online.
Dried Mushroom Crisps
2 c. boiling water
1 T. mild vinegar
2 t. salt
2 t. seasoning blend of your choice
1 pound button mushrooms, sliced 1/4" thick
Combine everything but the mushrooms in a mixing bowl, and blend until the salt has dissolved. Add the mushrooms. Give them a few stirs so that each of the slices are submerged momentarily. The mushrooms will float, so give them a few stirs every 10 minutes or so, and let marinate for one hour.
Once the mushrooms have marinated, drain them from the brine and follow the drying method of your choice.
Food Dehydrator Method:
Place the mushrooms on the racks of a food dehydrator with all air vents fully open. Dry for 36-48 hours, or until they are crisp and no moisture remains.
Oven Method:
Preheat the oven to 190. In the meantime, prepare the mushrooms. The mushrooms will fall through a standard oven rack, so pierce a sheet of foil every half-inch or so and place the tinfoil on a rack. Arrange the mushrooms on the tinfoiled rack and place in the oven. Leave the oven door ajar (you can keep it lodged open with a wooden spoon) and bake for 6-8 hours, or until the mushrooms have dried.
These are delicious alone, but you can also dip them in traditional chip and veggie dips!
Humans have used drying as a food preservation method since the dawn of time, but drying was especially important to the Pioneers who set out across the country on wagon trains. Dried food was lightweight and compact, leaving more room in their wagons for other necessary supplies, like guns and whiskey.
mushrooms on drying rack |
Of all the foods I dried, sliced mushrooms produced my favorite result by far. Crisp and earthy, these babies always satisfied my crunch cravings. Because I dry my mushrooms in order to use them as snacks, my process is a bit different than that of the Italians and Chinese, who dry mushrooms simply so that they are available for use in recipes when fresh mushrooms are not in season. Imagine that - what my ancestors did out of necessity, I now do simply because I want a tasty snack! You don't even need a food dehydrator; you can do this in your oven as well. Not only is this snack delicious, it's great for all you New Year's Resolution dieters who are looking to replace your artificially flavored, partially hydrogenated, genetically engineered, deep-fried corn and potato crisps. Give this snack a shot!
* Food dehydrators are available for purchase at many major department stores and housewares stores; they can also be purchased online.
Dried Mushroom Crisps
2 c. boiling water
1 T. mild vinegar
2 t. salt
2 t. seasoning blend of your choice
1 pound button mushrooms, sliced 1/4" thick
Combine everything but the mushrooms in a mixing bowl, and blend until the salt has dissolved. Add the mushrooms. Give them a few stirs so that each of the slices are submerged momentarily. The mushrooms will float, so give them a few stirs every 10 minutes or so, and let marinate for one hour.
Once the mushrooms have marinated, drain them from the brine and follow the drying method of your choice.
Food Dehydrator Method:
Place the mushrooms on the racks of a food dehydrator with all air vents fully open. Dry for 36-48 hours, or until they are crisp and no moisture remains.
Oven Method:
Preheat the oven to 190. In the meantime, prepare the mushrooms. The mushrooms will fall through a standard oven rack, so pierce a sheet of foil every half-inch or so and place the tinfoil on a rack. Arrange the mushrooms on the tinfoiled rack and place in the oven. Leave the oven door ajar (you can keep it lodged open with a wooden spoon) and bake for 6-8 hours, or until the mushrooms have dried.
These are delicious alone, but you can also dip them in traditional chip and veggie dips!
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Culinary Adventure: Escargot
Tonight, for the first time, I ate escargot¾a/k/a snails. Yup, the little slithery things that roam through your gardens when the dew is still fresh in the grass. The little things with the antennas that shrink up into their shells when you touch them. Gary, SpongeBob's pet. I consumed him.
I've always wanted to try snails, not because I'd heard anything about their wondrous qualities; as with most of my culinary adventures, my curiosity got the best of me. How could I miss out on something that other cultures have enjoyed for centuries?!? Life is too short to pass up something I might enjoy just because a few onlookers might raise their unadventurous eyebrows. So, when I saw escargot at Whole Foods tonight, I ordered a half dozen. If I liked them, it was a good enough portion that I wouldn't feel shortchanged, and if I hated them (fat chance), it wouldn't be too much of a waste. The openings of the snails' shells* were already filled with a garlic & herb butter; I'm pretty sure the herbs used were parsley and chervil.
I had no idea how to cook these things, and the guy at Whole Foods surprisingly wasn't much help (I'm going to assume that he was either new, or he was having a crappy day - Whole Foods employees are generally a knowledgeable, delightful bunch). So, I did it the modern way and googled it. According to several potentially credible sources, 10 minutes in a 400-degree oven is the way to achieve gastropod greatness.
Here's a helpful hint - if you're going to eat escargot, make sure you have a seafood fork. Seafood forks are smaller than regular forks, and the tines span about half an inch (1.3cm), making it easy for the eater to pierce meat that is lodged inside a shell. When me and my salad fork finally got a snail out of the shell, I bit into it, hoping it was worth the effort. Had I used a seafood fork, it would have been! A salad fork was a bit too laborious for my ever-so-impatient soul. The texture was similar to calamari or fried clams, but the flavor was not at all fishy - very earthy, in fact, almost like a wild mushroom.
Since I didn't cook these myself, I can't offer you a recipe in good conscience. What I can do, however, is offer you a photo journal. Here are the pics I snapped throughout tonight's escargot adventure.
I've always wanted to try snails, not because I'd heard anything about their wondrous qualities; as with most of my culinary adventures, my curiosity got the best of me. How could I miss out on something that other cultures have enjoyed for centuries?!? Life is too short to pass up something I might enjoy just because a few onlookers might raise their unadventurous eyebrows. So, when I saw escargot at Whole Foods tonight, I ordered a half dozen. If I liked them, it was a good enough portion that I wouldn't feel shortchanged, and if I hated them (fat chance), it wouldn't be too much of a waste. The openings of the snails' shells* were already filled with a garlic & herb butter; I'm pretty sure the herbs used were parsley and chervil.
* If you ever find yourself on Jeopardy and have to tell Alex (...or is it ask Alex? What is 'Go Ask Alex?'...) what the opening of a snail's shell is called, the correct anatomical term is "mantle."
I had no idea how to cook these things, and the guy at Whole Foods surprisingly wasn't much help (I'm going to assume that he was either new, or he was having a crappy day - Whole Foods employees are generally a knowledgeable, delightful bunch). So, I did it the modern way and googled it. According to several potentially credible sources, 10 minutes in a 400-degree oven is the way to achieve gastropod greatness.
Here's a helpful hint - if you're going to eat escargot, make sure you have a seafood fork. Seafood forks are smaller than regular forks, and the tines span about half an inch (1.3cm), making it easy for the eater to pierce meat that is lodged inside a shell. When me and my salad fork finally got a snail out of the shell, I bit into it, hoping it was worth the effort. Had I used a seafood fork, it would have been! A salad fork was a bit too laborious for my ever-so-impatient soul. The texture was similar to calamari or fried clams, but the flavor was not at all fishy - very earthy, in fact, almost like a wild mushroom.
Since I didn't cook these myself, I can't offer you a recipe in good conscience. What I can do, however, is offer you a photo journal. Here are the pics I snapped throughout tonight's escargot adventure.
P.S. Am I the only one who, upon hearing the word "escargot," immediately gets "Hypnotize" by Notorious B.I.G stuck in her head? "...escargot, my car go 160..." I digress...back to the food, kids.
Uncooked snails stuffed with garlic-herb butter |
Baked in strategically crumpled tinfoil so that the shells stay upright and the butter melts directly onto the snails. |
Cooked escargot |
Cooked escargot, snail removed from shell. They may look like something from the movie "Alien," but they taste great! |
Monday, January 2, 2012
Ingredient Spotlight - Beets
For many years, beets were not popular in American cuisine, but sometime during the past decade, a visionary chef decided to throw a few roasted baby beets on a plate with a handful of lettuce and about an ounce of some goat cheese made by ex-yuppies who now own a farm but still drive BMWs. A star was born! The baby beet salad soon became the trendy, modern bistro salad menu's Tickle Me Elmo - everyone had to have it.
Soon, another chef decided to one-up the original beet salad guy by using golden beets, and shortly after, shaved fennel, shaved parmesan, shaved truffle, shaved endive, shaved whatnot appeared. Meanwhile, the French, the Italians, and the Russians were most likely cracking up laughing, collectively cackling, “You A-holes JUST thought of that?!?” The French have been making salads of crisp lettuces, soft cheeses, and roasted root vegetables for eons. The Italians use beets to dye pasta and risotto, and they use the leaves in savory pies. And the Russians? Just ask NHL superstar Evgeni Malkin, who swears that his mom’s borscht brings him good luck.
Beets came into the spotlight for a while, but soon their small-plate dynasty was displaced by the ubiquitous mesclun salad with watermelon and feta. I hope that chefs continue to find creative ways to use beets; they’re lovely. Nutritious, sweet, and like a drag queen Midas, everything a beet touches turns hot pink (including your pee - I hate to be crass, but the strong red pigment in beets can affect the color of some people’s urine, so if you tinkle pink, don’t panic - it might just be the beets saying goodbye). It is a little-known fact in the U.S. that beets’ leaves and stems are not only edible, but delicious - cook them like you would cook chard. The recipe below uses the entire plant - the bulbs, stems, and leaves. Its bold flavor and fantastic magenta color reminded me of iconic fashion design legend Betsey Johnson, and if I ever had the opportunity to cook for her, this is what I would serve.
Next time you’re at the market and you see beets with their leaves attached, put them in your basket and try this rich, colorful, stick-to-your-bones pasta - you might fall in love.
Pasta with Beets and Polish Sausage
1 lb. Dry fusilli or rotini
1 T. butter
12 oz. Polish sausage (Wellshire brand is fabulous!)
1 onion, sliced
3-4 beets with greens, beet bulbs diced, stems and leaves chopped
2 t. caraway seeds
½ t. garlic powder
¼ t. finely ground white pepper
1 t. smoked salt
Handful chopped fresh dill
8 oz. Sour cream
Cook the pasta. In the meantime, heat the butter over medium heat in a large, heavy bottomed pot. Once the butter has melted, add the sausage, onion, diced beet bulbs, and caraway seeds. Cook for 5-7 minutes, or until onion has softened up a bit. Add the beet greens and stems, garlic powder, white pepper, and smoked salt, along with a splash of the pasta water (approx ¼ cup). Cover, reduce heat to low, and cook for 10-15 minutes.
Once the beets, greens, and sausage have cooked, add the cooked pasta, the dill, and the sour cream. Stir, blending well until all the pasta is coated and has turned a bright shade of magenta. Serve with an extra dollop of sour cream and garnish with a sprig of fresh dill.
Soon, another chef decided to one-up the original beet salad guy by using golden beets, and shortly after, shaved fennel, shaved parmesan, shaved truffle, shaved endive, shaved whatnot appeared. Meanwhile, the French, the Italians, and the Russians were most likely cracking up laughing, collectively cackling, “You A-holes JUST thought of that?!?” The French have been making salads of crisp lettuces, soft cheeses, and roasted root vegetables for eons. The Italians use beets to dye pasta and risotto, and they use the leaves in savory pies. And the Russians? Just ask NHL superstar Evgeni Malkin, who swears that his mom’s borscht brings him good luck.
Beets came into the spotlight for a while, but soon their small-plate dynasty was displaced by the ubiquitous mesclun salad with watermelon and feta. I hope that chefs continue to find creative ways to use beets; they’re lovely. Nutritious, sweet, and like a drag queen Midas, everything a beet touches turns hot pink (including your pee - I hate to be crass, but the strong red pigment in beets can affect the color of some people’s urine, so if you tinkle pink, don’t panic - it might just be the beets saying goodbye). It is a little-known fact in the U.S. that beets’ leaves and stems are not only edible, but delicious - cook them like you would cook chard. The recipe below uses the entire plant - the bulbs, stems, and leaves. Its bold flavor and fantastic magenta color reminded me of iconic fashion design legend Betsey Johnson, and if I ever had the opportunity to cook for her, this is what I would serve.
Next time you’re at the market and you see beets with their leaves attached, put them in your basket and try this rich, colorful, stick-to-your-bones pasta - you might fall in love.
Pasta with Beets and Polish Sausage
1 lb. Dry fusilli or rotini
1 T. butter
12 oz. Polish sausage (Wellshire brand is fabulous!)
1 onion, sliced
3-4 beets with greens, beet bulbs diced, stems and leaves chopped
2 t. caraway seeds
½ t. garlic powder
¼ t. finely ground white pepper
1 t. smoked salt
Handful chopped fresh dill
8 oz. Sour cream
Cook the pasta. In the meantime, heat the butter over medium heat in a large, heavy bottomed pot. Once the butter has melted, add the sausage, onion, diced beet bulbs, and caraway seeds. Cook for 5-7 minutes, or until onion has softened up a bit. Add the beet greens and stems, garlic powder, white pepper, and smoked salt, along with a splash of the pasta water (approx ¼ cup). Cover, reduce heat to low, and cook for 10-15 minutes.
Once the beets, greens, and sausage have cooked, add the cooked pasta, the dill, and the sour cream. Stir, blending well until all the pasta is coated and has turned a bright shade of magenta. Serve with an extra dollop of sour cream and garnish with a sprig of fresh dill.
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