Really, I've got to give myself a pat on the back for the clever title.
In retrospect, I should have thrown together a cute little side salad of lettuces, French beans, radishes, and parsley - the things that naughty little Peter Rabbit munched on in Mr. MacGregor's garden - but instead, I simply had these rich, delicious pita sandwiches with a glass of slightly chilled Chardonnay. Mr. MacGregor, you can keep your lettuces - but if you catch any mischievous rabbits, I'll help Mrs. MacGregor turn them into a delicious treat!
So what made me decide to put rabbit in a pita pocket? Top Chef! Rabbit was the ingredient assigned to all the contestants, and as they scrambled to create their dishes, I thought about a creative dish I could make with rabbit, which was difficult, because although I've eaten rabbit, I've never cooked it. This, ladies and gentlemen, presented a challenge that I gladly accepted. I decided that I would learn to cook rabbit, and I'd make something creative. Maybe the composition of the dish was not creative, but I liked the idea of a unique theme - Pita Rabbit, which sounds like a Bostonian speaking the words "Peter Rabbit." Drumroll, please...
Rabbit isn't one of those things you're likely to find at the mega-mart, so unless you know a hunter (as not many of us city folk do), you have to seek it out at butcher shops or by mail order. I called several of my tried-and-true butcher shops, and Savenor's was the only one that had any fresh rabbit on hand. I know that many of the butcher shops in Boston sell rabbit, especially Boston's North End, but not everyone has rabbit in stock at all times, so I'm glad I decided to call in advance. After all, rabbit isn't a popular meat.
I took the advice of the butcher at Savenor's, who cautioned me about the presence of tiny pinbones and recommenced cooking the meat "slow and low," which means cooking something for a long time at a low temperature. I cooked the rabbit with a sauteed shallot in wine, chicken, and lemongrass mint vinegar for about four hours, then I let it cool overnight.
The next day, I shredded the cooked rabbit meat with my fingers and served it in warmed pitas with traditional Greek/Mediterranean accompaniments. These sandwiches are packed full of healthy ingredients, yet extremely rich and satisfying. If you're squeamish about cooking rabbit, feel free to make these with dark meat chicken, but the flavor will not be the same. The recipe below will fill two whole pita pockets, or four halves. When all the ingredients are prepared in advance, these make a super-quick, super-easy meal!
Braised Rabbit
1 T. butter
1 shallot, minced
1/2 - 1 lb. rabbit parts
1/2 c. white wine
1/2 c. chicken broth
splash lemongrass & mint vinegar or juice of 1/2 lemon
pinch each salt and pepper
In a large, heavy bottomed pot, melt the butter over medium-high heat, then add the shallot. Saute for 3-4 minutes, or until the shallot has softened. Add the rabbit parts and brown for 5-7 minutes.
Add the wine, chicken broth, vinegar. Reduce heat to low and cover. Simmer for at least two hours, longer if possible, checking every 30 minutes or so. If the liquid is evaporating too quickly, go ahead and add an extra splash of wine throughout the process.
Once the rabbit has simmered for at least two hours, remove from heat. Serve as-is or let cool if you're using the meat for Pita Rabbit sandwiches.
Pita Rabbit
2 pita breads, warmed in the oven and cut in half
shredded rabbit or chicken (dark meat)
minced red onion
grated cucumber
chopped mint
seeded & chopped tomato
chopped kalamata olives
crumbled feta cheese
Greek dressing (recipe below)
Fill each pita bread half with your choice of the ingredients listed above.
Greek Dressing
1 T. plain yogurt
1 large or 2 small garlic cloves, pressed
1 T. chopped fresh mint
1 T. fresh oregano (or 1 t. dried)
1/4 t. ground sumac berries* (optional)
pinch salt
freshly ground black pepper
1/2 c. olive oil
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 t. toasted sesame oil
Whisk the ingredients in a small bowl. Use to dress pita sandwiches or salads. Also delicious on steamed veggies, fresh chopped tomatoes, cold pasta or rice, etc.
* Sumac is a tart spice commonly used in Middle Eastern and Mediterranean cooking. If you can't find it at your local market, you can order it from Penzey's.
Showing posts with label bizarre foods. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bizarre foods. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Bizarre Foods?
I like “bizarre” foods. No, I’m not talking about the TV show, I’m referring to foods uncommon to my region and my culture. Although I do enjoy the TV show - it gives me ideas!
I’ve been eating “bizarre” foods since I was a child. I was the farthest thing from a picky eater - when most preschoolers wanted to bring brownies and chocolate milk for snack day, I wanted to bring New England clam chowder. My parents always let me try new foods, even if they suspected that I wouldn’t like them. The things I didn’t get to try were snack cakes, fast food, and sodas - well, I tried them, but only when my friends’ parents rained on my mom’s parade and fed me Little Debbie and Frito Lay. My mom always made sure I was eating healthy meals, and she put together some really excellent lunches for me. One of the best lunches she packed contained what she liked to call a “healthy” sandwich,” which was avocado slices, cheese, sliced tomato, and alfalfa sprouts on whole grain bread. Those sandwiches were delicious, although you must remember that this was the 80’s - whole grain bread had not gone mainstream yet, so naturally, some of my classmates looked at my lunches and asked me why I ate “weird” food. I usually replied, “It’s good, wanna try it?”
These days, I still eat “weird” food, mainly because I’m a curious person by nature, and I hate the idea that I could be missing out on something good. So, I try “weird” foods. I’ll try pretty much anything - I’ve had jellyfish, bottarga (air-dried mullet roe), sea urchin, pig’s feet, sweetbreads, liver, tripe, you name it. Most recently, I tried duck tongues. Yes, that’s the mystery food in the picture to the right - seasoned duck tongues. Is there a line I wouldn’t cross? Well, I’m hesitant to try any animal parts from the nervous system due to concern over mad cow and other prion diseases, I really have no desire to try insects, and I won't willfully eat trans-fats. But most other foods are fair game.
I’ve been eating “bizarre” foods since I was a child. I was the farthest thing from a picky eater - when most preschoolers wanted to bring brownies and chocolate milk for snack day, I wanted to bring New England clam chowder. My parents always let me try new foods, even if they suspected that I wouldn’t like them. The things I didn’t get to try were snack cakes, fast food, and sodas - well, I tried them, but only when my friends’ parents rained on my mom’s parade and fed me Little Debbie and Frito Lay. My mom always made sure I was eating healthy meals, and she put together some really excellent lunches for me. One of the best lunches she packed contained what she liked to call a “healthy” sandwich,” which was avocado slices, cheese, sliced tomato, and alfalfa sprouts on whole grain bread. Those sandwiches were delicious, although you must remember that this was the 80’s - whole grain bread had not gone mainstream yet, so naturally, some of my classmates looked at my lunches and asked me why I ate “weird” food. I usually replied, “It’s good, wanna try it?”
These days, I still eat “weird” food, mainly because I’m a curious person by nature, and I hate the idea that I could be missing out on something good. So, I try “weird” foods. I’ll try pretty much anything - I’ve had jellyfish, bottarga (air-dried mullet roe), sea urchin, pig’s feet, sweetbreads, liver, tripe, you name it. Most recently, I tried duck tongues. Yes, that’s the mystery food in the picture to the right - seasoned duck tongues. Is there a line I wouldn’t cross? Well, I’m hesitant to try any animal parts from the nervous system due to concern over mad cow and other prion diseases, I really have no desire to try insects, and I won't willfully eat trans-fats. But most other foods are fair game.
One thing that kills me is how American culture turns its collective nose up to organ meats, but barely thinks twice about eating packaged foods whose list of ingredients more closely resembles that of a shampoo bottle than a recipe (P.S. - if you want to know what you’re actually eating, I highly recommend Steve Ettlinger‘s 2007 book “Twinkie, Deconstructed”).
One thing that kills me is how American culture turns its collective nose up to organ meats, but barely thinks twice about eating packaged foods whose list of ingredients more closely resembles that of a shampoo bottle than a recipe (P.S. - if you want to know what you’re actually eating, I highly recommend Steve Ettlinger‘s 2007 book “Twinkie, Deconstructed”).
How is “partially hydrogenated soybean oil” perfectly normal, but chicken hearts are “weird?” How is it “normal” to eat an irradiated pork chop cut from a genetically modified hog and injected with something concocted in a test tube, but it’s “weird” to eat tripe? How do we determine what’s normal and what’s weird? I’m gonna go out on a limb here and put my money on classism and xenophobia, but another explanation could simply be that a lot of people in America don’t cook, they simply eat what’s fed to them (side note: I’m completely aware that that’s a loaded statement with many interpretations).
Back to the classism/xenophobia thing, I know I’m not the only foodie who sees the irony in the fact that some of the foods that were common among impoverished immigrant and ethnic groups are now served at pricey restaurants. Organ meats, meats from heritage livestock, and heirloom vegetable varieties are springing up left and right on the menus at some of the country’s best restaurants. TV shows like “Bizarre Foods” and “Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations” have certainly fueled the trend. Also adding to the acceptance of “weird" foods are cooking challenge TV shows, which often challenge contestants to cook dishes featuring uncommon ingredients or less popular cuts of meat. More power to everyone who tries to take the mystery, stigma, and fear away from food!
Other than sheer curiosity, one of my other reasons for seeking out and eating “weird” cuts of meat springs from the fact that I’m an animal lover. This sounds counterintuitive, I know, but I think it is insanely disrespectful to slaughter an animal only to discard its parts that won’t sell well in individually-wrapped Styrofoam packages at White Bread Mart in East Bumf***. Doing my part to make sure that the whole animal is used alleviates some of my conflicted feelings about eating meat.
In sum, I encourage everyone to try some of these “bizarre” foods - if you don’t like them, that‘s fine, but please don’t shy away from foods that don’t show up on the menu at your local dime-a-dozen-pieces-of-flair chain restaurant. If you’re unsure of how to prepare and cook some of these uncommon items, or if you don’t trust the freshness/turnover rate on such items at your local market, try them at a restaurant. And I’ll do my best to post recipes and instructions for cooking less-than-common foods. Open your minds and your mouths - a whole new world of flavors and textures awaits you!
Other than sheer curiosity, one of my other reasons for seeking out and eating “weird” cuts of meat springs from the fact that I’m an animal lover. This sounds counterintuitive, I know, but I think it is insanely disrespectful to slaughter an animal only to discard its parts that won’t sell well in individually-wrapped Styrofoam packages at White Bread Mart in East Bumf***. Doing my part to make sure that the whole animal is used alleviates some of my conflicted feelings about eating meat.
In sum, I encourage everyone to try some of these “bizarre” foods - if you don’t like them, that‘s fine, but please don’t shy away from foods that don’t show up on the menu at your local dime-a-dozen-pieces-of-flair chain restaurant. If you’re unsure of how to prepare and cook some of these uncommon items, or if you don’t trust the freshness/turnover rate on such items at your local market, try them at a restaurant. And I’ll do my best to post recipes and instructions for cooking less-than-common foods. Open your minds and your mouths - a whole new world of flavors and textures awaits you!
Friday, November 11, 2011
A Guessing Game
Last night, I tried something new and unusual, and I took a photo of this new and unusual dish. Can you guess what's on this plate? I will give you three clues: 1) It's fatty, 2) I ordered this plate at a Chinese restaurant, and 3) good luck finding the main ingredient in a big-box grocery store.
Feel free to leave your guesses in the comments field below, on Twitter, or on Facebook!
Feel free to leave your guesses in the comments field below, on Twitter, or on Facebook!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Ingredient Spotlight - Bitter Melon
"Ugh, I HATE bitter melon!" my friend proclaimed, inspiring a sarcastic "Once again, with feeling!" from me. "My mom makes bitter melon, I think she only cooks it when she's mad at me," he said.
We were chatting about fruits and vegetables that are hard to find in the US, and my mention of bitter melon sparked an immediate, and quite heated, reaction. That was the moment I knew I had to get my hands on a bitter melon and see for myself why it was my friend's most hated vegetable.
Bitter melon is technically a fruit, although it is eaten as a vegetable. Interestingly, it is also widely used as a medicinal plant. Some cultures use bitter melon to treat ailments and diseases such as malaria, cancer, and some viruses. Bitter melon does in fact contain compounds that are useful in medicine. The fruit grows in tropical and sub-tropical climates and looks like a pale, ridged cucumber. Some specialty stores and higher-end markets will sell bitter melon from time to time, but you're far more likely to find it if you live in a city with a good-sized Asian population. I found mine in Boston's Chinatown.
Once it was time to taste-test this new and exciting veggie, I realized that I had no clue how to prepare it - does the skin stay on? Are there seeds, and if so, are they edible? Those were questions for Google. Turns out, the skin is edible, and while the seeds and the pith are technically edible, removing them takes away the overwhelming bitterness. Just slice lengthwise and remove the seeds as you would from a cucumber (I, however, cut a cross-section so that you could see what the inside looked like).
The verdict? I loved it! It keeps the crunchy, watery texture of a cucumber when stir-fried, and I thought it tasted like a grassy cross between artichokes and chicory. When I mentioned that to my bitter melon-hating friend, his reaction was, "Exactly. I don't know why you would want to eat that." I liked bitter melon for the same reason I love broccoli rabe, escarole, and radicchio - no, not because they're Italian - I like the taste of bitter vegetables. Bitter melon is certainly not for everyone; it's one of those veggies you either love or you hate. That being said, if you ever see a bitter melon, try it and decide for yourself!
Bitter Melon Stir-Fry
boiling water
10 dried shiitake mushrooms
10 dried tree ear mushrooms*
2 T. coconut oil or vegetable oil
2 shallots, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 T. dried shrimp (optional)
1 bitter melon, sliced
For the stir-fry sauce:
1/4 c. low sodium soy sauce
2 T. rice wine or dry sherry
1/2 t. szechuan peppercorns
1 t. red chili flakes
1 t. grated ginger
1/4 t. white pepper
1 t. cornstarch
1 T. cold water
cooked rice, to serve
toasted sesame seeds, to garnish
First, prepare the dried mushrooms by placing them in a bowl and covering them with boiling water (approx. 1/2 cup). Let them soak for about 10 minutes. In the meantime, prepare the stir-fry sauce by combining all ingredients but the cornstarch and water in a bowl. In a separate bowl, blend the cornstarch into the cold water, then add this to the sauce.
Now, drain the mushrooms and squeeze out any excess water. Slice them into 1/4" strips and set aside.
Heat a wok or large frying pan over high heat. Add the coconut or vegetable oil, and once it is melted, add the shallots, garlic, and dried shrimp, if using. Stir-fry for a minute or so, then add the bitter melon and the sliced mushrooms. Stir-fry for an additional 3-4 minutes.
Finally, add the stir-fry sauce and continue to stir-fry until all the vegetables are coated and the sauce has thickened up a bit, approximately 2 minutes.
Spoon into individual bowls of cooked rice and sprinkle with a generous pinch of toasted sesame seeds.
* These may also be labelled "cloud ear mushrooms" or simply "black fungus."
![]() |
| Bitter melon |
Bitter melon is technically a fruit, although it is eaten as a vegetable. Interestingly, it is also widely used as a medicinal plant. Some cultures use bitter melon to treat ailments and diseases such as malaria, cancer, and some viruses. Bitter melon does in fact contain compounds that are useful in medicine. The fruit grows in tropical and sub-tropical climates and looks like a pale, ridged cucumber. Some specialty stores and higher-end markets will sell bitter melon from time to time, but you're far more likely to find it if you live in a city with a good-sized Asian population. I found mine in Boston's Chinatown.
Once it was time to taste-test this new and exciting veggie, I realized that I had no clue how to prepare it - does the skin stay on? Are there seeds, and if so, are they edible? Those were questions for Google. Turns out, the skin is edible, and while the seeds and the pith are technically edible, removing them takes away the overwhelming bitterness. Just slice lengthwise and remove the seeds as you would from a cucumber (I, however, cut a cross-section so that you could see what the inside looked like).
The verdict? I loved it! It keeps the crunchy, watery texture of a cucumber when stir-fried, and I thought it tasted like a grassy cross between artichokes and chicory. When I mentioned that to my bitter melon-hating friend, his reaction was, "Exactly. I don't know why you would want to eat that." I liked bitter melon for the same reason I love broccoli rabe, escarole, and radicchio - no, not because they're Italian - I like the taste of bitter vegetables. Bitter melon is certainly not for everyone; it's one of those veggies you either love or you hate. That being said, if you ever see a bitter melon, try it and decide for yourself!
Bitter Melon Stir-Fry
boiling water
10 dried shiitake mushrooms
10 dried tree ear mushrooms*
2 T. coconut oil or vegetable oil
2 shallots, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 T. dried shrimp (optional)
1 bitter melon, sliced
For the stir-fry sauce:
1/4 c. low sodium soy sauce
2 T. rice wine or dry sherry
1/2 t. szechuan peppercorns
1 t. red chili flakes
1 t. grated ginger
1/4 t. white pepper
1 t. cornstarch
1 T. cold water
cooked rice, to serve
toasted sesame seeds, to garnish
![]() |
| Dried mushrooms |
Now, drain the mushrooms and squeeze out any excess water. Slice them into 1/4" strips and set aside.
Heat a wok or large frying pan over high heat. Add the coconut or vegetable oil, and once it is melted, add the shallots, garlic, and dried shrimp, if using. Stir-fry for a minute or so, then add the bitter melon and the sliced mushrooms. Stir-fry for an additional 3-4 minutes.
Finally, add the stir-fry sauce and continue to stir-fry until all the vegetables are coated and the sauce has thickened up a bit, approximately 2 minutes.
Spoon into individual bowls of cooked rice and sprinkle with a generous pinch of toasted sesame seeds.
* These may also be labelled "cloud ear mushrooms" or simply "black fungus."
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Ingredient Spotlight - Ghost Peppers
"Would you like an atomic pepper, Mr. Mentolino?"
Remember that scene in "Dumb & Dumber?" I'm pretty sure the atomic peppers consumed by the movie's two lovable losers were bhut jolokia, better known as 'ghost peppers.' Native to India, these fiery fruits set a record in the Guinness Book of World Records in 2007 for being world's hottest pepper. At 1,041,427 heat units, ghost peppers are approximately 400 times hotter than tabasco sauce on the Scoville scale, which measures a chili's heat based on how much sugar water is needed to neutralize its heat. To put into perspective just how hot ghost peppers really are, consider that habaneros register 100,000 - 350,000 heat units, while law-enforcement grade pepper spray falls in the 500,000 - 5,000,000 heat unit range. Rumor has it that biting into a ghost pepper can trigger a heart attack, but according to web sources, it isn't the heat of the pepper that could kill you, it's the potential that the concentration of capsaicin could cause anaphylaxis in some individuals and lead to suffocation.
That was small comfort as I paid for a 50g carton of ghost peppers at Savenor's Market on Beacon Hill. Operation "Woman vs. Food" had officially commenced.
With a tall glass of sugared milk by my side, wearing my large-lensed sunglasses to protect my eyes in case any bits of chili went flying, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation, I pierced a ghost pepper's thick, slightly tough flesh with the blade of my paring knife, then held the cold metal blade against my tongue. "That's not so bad," I thought. The pepper tasted bright, almost citrusy, whereas I did not expect to be able to experience any discernible flavor through the fire. That's when I learned why they're called ghost peppers - boy, do these babies sneak up on you! The heat hit, but it didn't deliver a burn so much as a tingle. The heat resonated throughout my mouth, spreading from the point of contact where I'd licked the blade of my knife, and a slight sting crept across my lips. I sipped some sugared milk to snuff out the heat, then decided I should to try the ghost pepper again, only for real this time. I sliced off a piece of pepper about the size of a grain of risotto rice, placed it on my tongue, bit into it, and sloshed it around in my mouth, letting the fire spread.
Add the peppers and the oil to a clean, resealable glass bottle. Shake and allow to sit for 24 hours. Use sparingly, adding drop-by-drop to any dish that could use some heat. Great for bloody marys!
Remember that scene in "Dumb & Dumber?" I'm pretty sure the atomic peppers consumed by the movie's two lovable losers were bhut jolokia, better known as 'ghost peppers.' Native to India, these fiery fruits set a record in the Guinness Book of World Records in 2007 for being world's hottest pepper. At 1,041,427 heat units, ghost peppers are approximately 400 times hotter than tabasco sauce on the Scoville scale, which measures a chili's heat based on how much sugar water is needed to neutralize its heat. To put into perspective just how hot ghost peppers really are, consider that habaneros register 100,000 - 350,000 heat units, while law-enforcement grade pepper spray falls in the 500,000 - 5,000,000 heat unit range. Rumor has it that biting into a ghost pepper can trigger a heart attack, but according to web sources, it isn't the heat of the pepper that could kill you, it's the potential that the concentration of capsaicin could cause anaphylaxis in some individuals and lead to suffocation.
That was small comfort as I paid for a 50g carton of ghost peppers at Savenor's Market on Beacon Hill. Operation "Woman vs. Food" had officially commenced.
With a tall glass of sugared milk by my side, wearing my large-lensed sunglasses to protect my eyes in case any bits of chili went flying, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation, I pierced a ghost pepper's thick, slightly tough flesh with the blade of my paring knife, then held the cold metal blade against my tongue. "That's not so bad," I thought. The pepper tasted bright, almost citrusy, whereas I did not expect to be able to experience any discernible flavor through the fire. That's when I learned why they're called ghost peppers - boy, do these babies sneak up on you! The heat hit, but it didn't deliver a burn so much as a tingle. The heat resonated throughout my mouth, spreading from the point of contact where I'd licked the blade of my knife, and a slight sting crept across my lips. I sipped some sugared milk to snuff out the heat, then decided I should to try the ghost pepper again, only for real this time. I sliced off a piece of pepper about the size of a grain of risotto rice, placed it on my tongue, bit into it, and sloshed it around in my mouth, letting the fire spread.
These peppers make "Dave's Insanity" look like "Dave's mild, completely manageable neuroses."
The ghost pepper's effect was not nearly as devastating as I imagined - after all, I'd pictured myself screaming and scrambling for ketchup and mustard bottles, just like Harry and Lloyd in Dumb & Dumber - but keep in mind that I only consumed a minuscule amount. If you can get your hands on ghost peppers, try them if you dare, even if only to satisfy your curiosity.
Not knowing if I could handle the heat if I chopped them and added them directly to a dish, I decided to use my ghost peppers to make a batch of hot pepper oil. With the kind of heat ghost peppers pack, only a few drops will add a spicy kick to any food!
2 ghost peppers, quartered*
2 cups olive oil
* Be very careful when working with chiles. If possible, wear gloves, and do not let the chiles, or anything the chiles have touched, come into contact with your eyes.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Ingredient Spotlight - Skate Wings
It is not often that I will use the words "skate" and "wings" in a sentence that has nothing to do with a hockey team from Detroit - but today, I will do so as I write about a new seafood item that I tried recently. Skates, those weird, flat, diamond-shaped, bottom-dwelling sea creatures that you may have touched during a visit to an aquarium's touch pool, make a pretty delicious main course!
Previously thought of as a "trash fish," meaning a fish with little market value in the food arena, skate has gained popularity in recent years. Similar in flavor to a mild whitefish, such as haddock, but firmer in texture, skate wings are extremely versatile and compatible with many flavor combinations and cooking methods. Last time I visited my mom's house, I spotted these at the local fish market and decided to see what the fuss was all about.
There are many different forms and flavors my skate wings could have taken, but when I cook with a new ingredient, I like to keep the recipe as simple as possible so I can experience the flavor and texture of the ingredient as close to its natural state as possible. If you spot skate wings at your fish market, pick up a few and try them simply prepared with a little butter, lemon, and capers, as I did in the recipe below.
Skate Wings with Lemon & Capers
2 T. butter
2 skate wings
juice of 1 lemon
1 T capers, chopped
salt & pepper, to taste
In a heavy-bottomed frying pan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add both skate wings, flat side down, then add the lemon juice and capers. Cover, then cook for about 5 minutes, or until the skate wings flake easily with a fork. Remove the wings with a spatula, transfer to serving plates, then add the salt and pepper to the pan juices. Stir a few times, then pour the sauce onto the plated skate wings.
Previously thought of as a "trash fish," meaning a fish with little market value in the food arena, skate has gained popularity in recent years. Similar in flavor to a mild whitefish, such as haddock, but firmer in texture, skate wings are extremely versatile and compatible with many flavor combinations and cooking methods. Last time I visited my mom's house, I spotted these at the local fish market and decided to see what the fuss was all about.
There are many different forms and flavors my skate wings could have taken, but when I cook with a new ingredient, I like to keep the recipe as simple as possible so I can experience the flavor and texture of the ingredient as close to its natural state as possible. If you spot skate wings at your fish market, pick up a few and try them simply prepared with a little butter, lemon, and capers, as I did in the recipe below.
Skate Wings with Lemon & Capers
2 T. butter
2 skate wings
juice of 1 lemon
1 T capers, chopped
salt & pepper, to taste
In a heavy-bottomed frying pan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add both skate wings, flat side down, then add the lemon juice and capers. Cover, then cook for about 5 minutes, or until the skate wings flake easily with a fork. Remove the wings with a spatula, transfer to serving plates, then add the salt and pepper to the pan juices. Stir a few times, then pour the sauce onto the plated skate wings.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Inspiration on 'Roids - New England Nicoise, Nicoise Peruvienne
Yup, this bacon, butter, steak, mayonnaise, sour cream, cheese, and pork rind-loving blogger is writing an entire post about salad. But I'm not writing about rabbit food; I'm writing about new twists on an old favorite, and I'm writing about a salad that is substantial enough to take center stage. I'm writing about Salade Nicoise. No lightweight, this French classic contains potatoes, green beans, hard-cooked eggs, olives, tomatoes, tuna and anchovies, nestled in a bed of rich butter lettuce and dressed with tangy dijon vinaigrette. This is not a dish that will leave you hungry.
So what happens when this French salad meets ingredients native to my side of the Atlantic? Magic. Pure magic happens. The two salads I created were not planned; rather, I got a boatload of inspiration during one random food shopping excursion and decided to try something new, and the results may be two of my favorite creations to date.
It all started with a batch of purple potatoes.
We've all seen red and yellow potatoes, but purple ones are far less common, at least here in Northern New England. However, in Peru, the potato's homeland, potatoes come in a variety of colors spanning the rainbow. When I saw purple potatoes at the market, I loaded them into my basket. I had no idea what I'd do with them, but I never worry about that until after I'm home and all my groceries are put away. I started to think - I could boil them? I could bake or roast them? Potato salad? Boring, boring, boring. I then started to scan my brain for recipes containing potatoes where the color would really stand out, and I came up with salade nicoise. I felt wicked smart until I thought, "Purple potatoes in a salad? So f***ing what?" I knew color alone wouldn't lift my dish from ordinary to extraordinary, but then it hit me - I could add a little aji. Aji is a traditional Peruvian condiment made from chiles, garlic, and olive oil, and it turns everything it touches to gold. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it's really damn good. Once I had aji on my brain, my ideas started snowballing until I realized that I could replace tuna with ceviche, another Peruvian specialty. And just like that, I created a recipe.
I couldn't wait to test my recipe, so I ran to the store to pick up all the ingredients I'd need for the ceviche, the aji sauce, and the salad itself. Cod? Check. Chiles? Check. Tomatoes? Check. Wait - what's that in that bin over there? Ohhh Lord...I found fiddleheads.
For those of you who don't live in Northern New England, fiddleheads are the edible fronds of young ostrich ferns. You cannot visit a market in Maine during late spring without seeing at least one basket of fresh fiddleheads. When steamed or lightly boiled, they retain their bright grass-green color and crunch, and they taste like a green bean/artichoke hybrid. And face it - they look wicked awesome!
Back to my market trip - I saw the fiddleheads and knew I had to have them. While picking through the basket for the smallest, most tightly coiled fiddleheads, my mental wheels began turning and trying to come up with a plan for the fiddleheads. They're good with just a little salt, pepper, and butter; they're great with hollandaise, and they can replace green beans in any dish.
Waaaiiittt a minute - green beans are used in salade nicoise...use the fiddleheads instead of green beans, and voila! New England Nicoise. Hmm, what other ingredients scream "New England?" and would also work in a salad? Duhhh, lobster! I'm sure the other market patrons were quite amused seeing this tiny little girl talking to herself out loud and stopping dead in her tracks to turn around and go pick up another ingredient when the light bulb went off over her head, but that's how I roll when inspiration skyrockets. I whirled around the store like a madwoman, throwing ingredients into my basket and at the same time writing memos to myself on my iPhone so I wouldn't forget my ideas.
Getting inspired was the easy part. The hard part was the prep work, especially for Nicoise Peruvienne, which is a recipe within a recipe within a recipe. While nothing in these recipes is difficult, the process is time consuming. The most important part of preparing this dish is your mise en place, which is a fancy-schmancy chef term meaning "having one's $#!t together." Once all the prep work is out of the way, this salad goes together in under 10 minutes, but if you try to assemble it while boiling potatoes, cooking eggs, making vinaigrette, etc., you'll be making a lot of extra work for yourself, and the process will be needlessly stressful.
If you come across fiddleheads or purple potatoes, do try these two salads. They are delicious, fun to make, and both are guaranteed to be great talking points if you serve them to guests.
New England Nicoise
2-4 cups butter lettuce, torn
1/2 lb. baby potatoes, quartered
2 roma tomatoes, quartered lengthwise
2 hard-cooked eggs, quartered lengthwise
1/2 lb. fiddleheads, steamed
1 lb. cooked lobster meat, chopped
8 black olives, pitted
vinaigrette
Boil the potatoes and steam the fiddleheads in advance. Let chill for at least two hours.
Assemble the salads. Fill 2 large bowls with equal amounts of lettuce, then arrange the potatoes, tomato, and egg in a decorative pattern along the edge of the bowl. Add the fiddleheads and lobster meat to the center, then dress with desired amount of vinaigrette.
Vinaigrette
1 garlic clove, smashed
1 t. dijon mustard
2 T. tarragon vinegar
1/3 c. olive oil
salt & pepper
Whisk all the ingredients in a bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside for at least an hour. Remove the garlic clove, whisk again, then use to dress New England Nicoise.
Nicoise Peruvienne
2-4 c. butter lettuce, torn into bite-sized pieces
2 roma tomatoes, quartered lengthwise
1 avocado, sliced lengthwise
2 hard-cooked eggs, quartered lengthwise
1/4 lb. green beans, steamed
2-4 purple potatoes, quartered lengthwise
2 cups ceviche
aji vinaigrette
Begin prep at least 4 hours, and up to 24 hours, ahead. Prepare the ceviche style whitefish, hard-cooked eggs, and the aji vinaigrette (recipes below). Boil the potatoes and steam the green beans, let both cool to room temperature, then refrigerate until it is time to assemble the salads.
Assemble the salads. Fill 2 large bowls with equal amounts of lettuce, then arrange the tomato, avocado, and egg in a decorative pattern along the edge of the bowl. Add the potatoes, green beans, and ceviche, then dress with desired amount of aji vinaigrette.
Ceviche
1/2 lb. cod or other firm whitefish, cut into chunks
1 serrano chile, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
1/3 c. freshly squeezed lime juice
salt and pepper
Combine all the ingredients in a nonmetallic bowl. Cover and let marinate in the fridge, stirring occasionally. Marinate at least 4 hours; preferably overnight.
Aji Vinaigrette
1T. aji sauce (recipe below)
1 clove garlic, minced
juice of 2 limes
1/2 c. olive oil.
Combine all ingredients in a bowl and whisk until blended. Use to dress Nicoise Peruvienne. Any leftover vinaigrette can be used on chicken, fish, potatoes, vegetables, rice...you name it.
Aji Sauce
5 habanero peppers (can use a milder pepper if you can't take the heat of habaneros)
2 cloves garlic
1 T. chopped cilantro
salt & pepper
splash olive oil
Combine ingredients in a blender and puree until a thick, consistent paste is formed. Use in Aji Vinaigrette.
So what happens when this French salad meets ingredients native to my side of the Atlantic? Magic. Pure magic happens. The two salads I created were not planned; rather, I got a boatload of inspiration during one random food shopping excursion and decided to try something new, and the results may be two of my favorite creations to date.
It all started with a batch of purple potatoes.
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| Purple potato cross-section |
We've all seen red and yellow potatoes, but purple ones are far less common, at least here in Northern New England. However, in Peru, the potato's homeland, potatoes come in a variety of colors spanning the rainbow. When I saw purple potatoes at the market, I loaded them into my basket. I had no idea what I'd do with them, but I never worry about that until after I'm home and all my groceries are put away. I started to think - I could boil them? I could bake or roast them? Potato salad? Boring, boring, boring. I then started to scan my brain for recipes containing potatoes where the color would really stand out, and I came up with salade nicoise. I felt wicked smart until I thought, "Purple potatoes in a salad? So f***ing what?" I knew color alone wouldn't lift my dish from ordinary to extraordinary, but then it hit me - I could add a little aji. Aji is a traditional Peruvian condiment made from chiles, garlic, and olive oil, and it turns everything it touches to gold. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it's really damn good. Once I had aji on my brain, my ideas started snowballing until I realized that I could replace tuna with ceviche, another Peruvian specialty. And just like that, I created a recipe.
I couldn't wait to test my recipe, so I ran to the store to pick up all the ingredients I'd need for the ceviche, the aji sauce, and the salad itself. Cod? Check. Chiles? Check. Tomatoes? Check. Wait - what's that in that bin over there? Ohhh Lord...I found fiddleheads.
![]() |
| Fiddlehead |
Back to my market trip - I saw the fiddleheads and knew I had to have them. While picking through the basket for the smallest, most tightly coiled fiddleheads, my mental wheels began turning and trying to come up with a plan for the fiddleheads. They're good with just a little salt, pepper, and butter; they're great with hollandaise, and they can replace green beans in any dish.
Waaaiiittt a minute - green beans are used in salade nicoise...use the fiddleheads instead of green beans, and voila! New England Nicoise. Hmm, what other ingredients scream "New England?" and would also work in a salad? Duhhh, lobster! I'm sure the other market patrons were quite amused seeing this tiny little girl talking to herself out loud and stopping dead in her tracks to turn around and go pick up another ingredient when the light bulb went off over her head, but that's how I roll when inspiration skyrockets. I whirled around the store like a madwoman, throwing ingredients into my basket and at the same time writing memos to myself on my iPhone so I wouldn't forget my ideas.
Getting inspired was the easy part. The hard part was the prep work, especially for Nicoise Peruvienne, which is a recipe within a recipe within a recipe. While nothing in these recipes is difficult, the process is time consuming. The most important part of preparing this dish is your mise en place, which is a fancy-schmancy chef term meaning "having one's $#!t together." Once all the prep work is out of the way, this salad goes together in under 10 minutes, but if you try to assemble it while boiling potatoes, cooking eggs, making vinaigrette, etc., you'll be making a lot of extra work for yourself, and the process will be needlessly stressful.
If you come across fiddleheads or purple potatoes, do try these two salads. They are delicious, fun to make, and both are guaranteed to be great talking points if you serve them to guests.
New England Nicoise
2-4 cups butter lettuce, torn
1/2 lb. baby potatoes, quartered
2 roma tomatoes, quartered lengthwise
2 hard-cooked eggs, quartered lengthwise
1/2 lb. fiddleheads, steamed
1 lb. cooked lobster meat, chopped
8 black olives, pitted
vinaigrette
Boil the potatoes and steam the fiddleheads in advance. Let chill for at least two hours.
Assemble the salads. Fill 2 large bowls with equal amounts of lettuce, then arrange the potatoes, tomato, and egg in a decorative pattern along the edge of the bowl. Add the fiddleheads and lobster meat to the center, then dress with desired amount of vinaigrette.
Vinaigrette
1 garlic clove, smashed
1 t. dijon mustard
2 T. tarragon vinegar
1/3 c. olive oil
salt & pepper
Whisk all the ingredients in a bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside for at least an hour. Remove the garlic clove, whisk again, then use to dress New England Nicoise.
Nicoise Peruvienne
2-4 c. butter lettuce, torn into bite-sized pieces
2 roma tomatoes, quartered lengthwise
1 avocado, sliced lengthwise
2 hard-cooked eggs, quartered lengthwise
1/4 lb. green beans, steamed
2-4 purple potatoes, quartered lengthwise
2 cups ceviche
aji vinaigrette
Begin prep at least 4 hours, and up to 24 hours, ahead. Prepare the ceviche style whitefish, hard-cooked eggs, and the aji vinaigrette (recipes below). Boil the potatoes and steam the green beans, let both cool to room temperature, then refrigerate until it is time to assemble the salads.
Assemble the salads. Fill 2 large bowls with equal amounts of lettuce, then arrange the tomato, avocado, and egg in a decorative pattern along the edge of the bowl. Add the potatoes, green beans, and ceviche, then dress with desired amount of aji vinaigrette.
Ceviche
1/2 lb. cod or other firm whitefish, cut into chunks
1 serrano chile, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
1/3 c. freshly squeezed lime juice
salt and pepper
Combine all the ingredients in a nonmetallic bowl. Cover and let marinate in the fridge, stirring occasionally. Marinate at least 4 hours; preferably overnight.
Aji Vinaigrette
1T. aji sauce (recipe below)
1 clove garlic, minced
juice of 2 limes
1/2 c. olive oil.
Combine all ingredients in a bowl and whisk until blended. Use to dress Nicoise Peruvienne. Any leftover vinaigrette can be used on chicken, fish, potatoes, vegetables, rice...you name it.
Aji Sauce
5 habanero peppers (can use a milder pepper if you can't take the heat of habaneros)
2 cloves garlic
1 T. chopped cilantro
salt & pepper
splash olive oil
Combine ingredients in a blender and puree until a thick, consistent paste is formed. Use in Aji Vinaigrette.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Tamarind + Margaritas = TamaRitas!
What would you do if you had about a pound of tamarind pods in your fridge? Probably not a question you're likely to hear if, like me, you live in New England, but this is a question I had to ask myself. When I created my Spiced Beef with Tamarind recipe, I wanted to use real tamarind rather than concentrated paste from a jar, so I bought a one-pound box. I only needed about 4 pods for the recipe, so I had a lot of tamarind on my hands. Quick - what could I possibly create that would use up the rest of the tamarind?
Not knowing how long homemade tamarind paste can be stored, I was reluctant to use my fruits simply for for that purpose, but I drew a blank on other recipes I could create. What could I do with my tamarind that would be consumed immediately and not linger in my fridge?
Oh, yeah - drinks! Drinks don't last long in the Bacon, Butter & Booze household. I did make tamarind paste (click here for instructions), which I watered down and used as a base for a my favorite summertime drink - margaritas, or in this case, Tama-Ritas! I added a little New England touch to the tamaritas using just a splash of blueberry syrup, which not only gave it a more complex flavor, but sweetened up what would otherwise be a pretty sour drink. These drinks may not be the most aesthetically pleasing cocktail out there, but boy, do they taste great!
Tama-Ritas
4 T. freshly made tamarind paste
1.5 c. cold water
2-3 oz. tequila (depends how strong you like your 'ritas)
splash triple sec
splash blueberry syrup (Stonewall Kitchen makes a good one)
kosher salt to rim glasses
Combine all ingredients except the salt in a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake vigorously for 30 seconds, then strain into 2 margarita glasses rimmed with salt.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Ingredient Spotlight - Shad Roe
No, I didn't get sucked up into the heavens during the rapture, I fell ill and I've been busy playing catch-up at work. My apologies for neglecting the site. Anyway, let me back up - a little over a week ago, I excitedly posted on Facebook and Twitter that I would be picking up my order of shad roe from Mercato del Mare. Foodies everywhere know how exciting it is to be able to get their mitts on fresh shad roe - after all, it is highly perishable and has a limited season - so you can imagine my excitement when I got my "Today's Catch" newsletter and saw shad roe on the list. Not surprisingly, the ladies at Mercato recommended that orders be placed in advance.
What is shad roe? For those of you who aren't food nerds like me and didn't spend your adolescence leafing through your mom's 1970's printing of James Beard's New Fish Cookery, I'll give you the biologist's answer - shad roe is the egg sac of the female shad, an ocean fish related to herring. A cook, however, would tell you that shad roe is a prized delicacy. Knowing this, I called Mercato to place my order immediately, for I feared that all the other gastro-geeks would beat me to it. I picked up my order after work and rushed home so I could get started on making a mess of my kitchen. I developed a great original recipe, but before I got around to posting it I contracted Ebola or Rift Valley Fever or something else equally horrific (OK, it was just a sinus infection, but it still sucked).
Uncooked shad roe resembles a chicken liver in the way that it comes in a pair, attached by a thin membrane. The sight of the roe caused my brain to drift back to my childhood. My dad loved going fishing, and I vividly remember him bringing his catch down to his work station in our basement where I'd watch him clean the fish (most often trout). He always threw the egg sacs to Snoopy, the most curious of our three cats. (Side note: If Snoopy had lived through the 90's, I most definitely would have nicknamed him "Snoop Catt.") Looking back, the chef in me can't believe that we threw away such a delicious part of the fish. However, the alarmist in me can't believe we thought it was OK to eat anything that came out of Lake Erie, which was once declared dead. It still shocks me that my Pops never reeled in anything resembling the radioactive man-worm featured in the all-time creepiest episode of "The X Files." But radioactivity/heavy metal toxicity aside, I can't help but wonder what sort of culinary magic could have been conjured up if we'd held on to that roe.
What is shad roe? For those of you who aren't food nerds like me and didn't spend your adolescence leafing through your mom's 1970's printing of James Beard's New Fish Cookery, I'll give you the biologist's answer - shad roe is the egg sac of the female shad, an ocean fish related to herring. A cook, however, would tell you that shad roe is a prized delicacy. Knowing this, I called Mercato to place my order immediately, for I feared that all the other gastro-geeks would beat me to it. I picked up my order after work and rushed home so I could get started on making a mess of my kitchen. I developed a great original recipe, but before I got around to posting it I contracted Ebola or Rift Valley Fever or something else equally horrific (OK, it was just a sinus infection, but it still sucked).
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| Lobe of uncooked shad roe. |
So what does shad roe taste like? It tastes like a combination of very mild liver laced with mild whitefish. It has a delicate texture that could easily be overpowered if you overseason it, so don't go crazy with the accoutrements, just let its flavor shine. While it's traditional to cook it simply in bacon fat or butter, try my twist - Shad Roe Saltimbocca!
Shad Roe Saltimbocca
1 T. bacon fat
2 T. butter, divided in half
several fresh sage leaves, minced
2 pairs shad roe
4 slices prosciutto
splash dry white wine
lemon wedges, to serve
Prepare the shad roe by dividing the pairs into individual lobes, being careful not to tear the membrane. Using a pin or the tip of a very sharp knife, poke several microscopic holes in each lobe of roe - this will prevent them from bursting.
Preheat your broiler. In the meantime, melt the bacon fat and 1 T. of the butter. Pour this into a casserole dish to coat the bottom. (Hint: You'll want to use a casserole dish that just barely fits the roe - you don't want much space between each lobe of roe or between the roe and the sides of the dish.)
Sprinkle the minced sage into the greased casserole dish, then add the shad roe. Divide the remaining butter into 4 pats and place one on top of each lobe of shad roe, then top each lobe with a slide of prosciutto. Pour a quick splash of dry white wine into the dish, shake the dish to distribute the wine, then throw the dish under the broiler for 5-7 minutes or until the proscuitto is crisp and the roe has firmed up and lost its pink color.
Serve with lemon wedges - a quick squirt of lemon juice really perks up the flavor!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Ingredient Spotlight - Cactus Pads (Nopales)
Artichokes. Asparagus. Fresh peas. I doubt many of my fellow New Englanders would add cactus to this list of veggies we associate with spring, but if we lived in Mexico, we might change our tune. Cactus pads, or nopales, are grown and sold in Mexico and are at their best in the spring, but they are neither common nor easy to find in the U.S., especially the northern U.S. This is unfortunate. If you ever see nopales at the market, do yourself a favor and pick up a few. Just be careful picking them up - after all, they ARE cactii, and they WILL stab you.

Preparing nopales is a pain in the you-know-what (and the hands, if you're careless), but I'm willing to put up with a little aggravation in order to experience new tastes and textures. I found that nopales taste like a cross between a green bean and an artichoke, with the texture of cold Chinese-style jellyfish...wait, what? OK, I guess I could compare it to just-barely-cooked calamari...but the jellyfish comparison is far more accurate, so if you haven't tried jellyfish, get on that! Anyway, to prepare fresh nopales, simply trim the edges and slice off the spines using a small, sharp paring knife, then slice into bite-sized pieces, boil in salted water for about 10-15 minutes, and use in recipes of your choice. I've included two refreshing recipes below!
Nopales Salsa
1 lb. nopales, prepared as described above*
1/2 red onion, minced
1 cup canned tomatillos, drained and chopped
2 fresh serrano chiles, minced
1 t. dried oregano
juice of 1 lime
splash olive oil
handful chopped cilantro
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Combine all the ingredients in a glass bowl. Chill at least 24 hours to let the flavors blend, then serve as desired.
* If you cannot find fresh nopales, prepared nopales in a jar can be purchased online.
Individual Rice Bowls with Nopales Salsa
1 cup cooked rice, seasoned with Goya Adobo
1/2 c. shredded grilled chicken (you can also use pork, steak, or shrimp)
1/2 c. nopales salsa
avocado slices, to serve
sour cream, to serve
lime wedges, to serve
In a shallow bowl, place the rice, chicken and nopales salsa alongside each other. Garnish with the avocado slices, sour cream, and lime wedges.
Preparing nopales is a pain in the you-know-what (and the hands, if you're careless), but I'm willing to put up with a little aggravation in order to experience new tastes and textures. I found that nopales taste like a cross between a green bean and an artichoke, with the texture of cold Chinese-style jellyfish...wait, what? OK, I guess I could compare it to just-barely-cooked calamari...but the jellyfish comparison is far more accurate, so if you haven't tried jellyfish, get on that! Anyway, to prepare fresh nopales, simply trim the edges and slice off the spines using a small, sharp paring knife, then slice into bite-sized pieces, boil in salted water for about 10-15 minutes, and use in recipes of your choice. I've included two refreshing recipes below!
Nopales Salsa
1 lb. nopales, prepared as described above*
1/2 red onion, minced
1 cup canned tomatillos, drained and chopped
2 fresh serrano chiles, minced
1 t. dried oregano
juice of 1 lime
splash olive oil
handful chopped cilantro
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Combine all the ingredients in a glass bowl. Chill at least 24 hours to let the flavors blend, then serve as desired.
* If you cannot find fresh nopales, prepared nopales in a jar can be purchased online.
Individual Rice Bowls with Nopales Salsa
1 cup cooked rice, seasoned with Goya Adobo
1/2 c. shredded grilled chicken (you can also use pork, steak, or shrimp)
1/2 c. nopales salsa
avocado slices, to serve
sour cream, to serve
lime wedges, to serve
In a shallow bowl, place the rice, chicken and nopales salsa alongside each other. Garnish with the avocado slices, sour cream, and lime wedges.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Cooking for a Cause
The food I cook, the posts I write, and the general tone of this site is intended to be a celebration, a gastronomic gala, a tip of the hat to unapologetic hedonism. And that is fine - this isn't a newspaper, and it isn't a political forum. However, I would be remiss if I did not mention this week's tragedy in Japan. We can definitely put down our forks, knives, and wine goblets for a moment and acknowledge that people are suffering. As human beings, one of our more appealing qualities is our compassion, our instinctive drive to alleviate the suffering of our brothers and sisters. So I write this post today with a bit more purpose than usual. Enjoy the photos, enjoy the recipes, but don't stop there. Starting tonight, for every re-post or re-tweet, I will donate 50 cents to the Red Cross's relief efforts in Japan.*
If you live in a city with a great supermarket and/or a large Asian/Pacific Islander population, most of the ingredients I use should be fairly easy to locate. If you cannot find tamarind pods, you can buy whole tamarind pods online, or you can substitute prepared tamarind pulp. If you cannot find serrano chiles, 1/2 t. crushed red pepper flakes is pretty close to the heat level of one serrano chile.
Marinated Salmon with Coconut
1 lb. very fresh salmon, sliced into 1/3" strips
juice of 2 limes
1 T. fresh ginger, grated or very finely minced
1-2 shallots, sliced thin
1 serrano chile, seeded and thinly sliced
2 tomatoes, diced
2/3 c. coconut milk
splash sesame oil
salt and cracked black peppercorns
In a glass or ceramic bowl, combine all ingredients except the coconut milk, sesame oil, salt and pepper. Mix well, cover, and refrigerate for 2-3 hours, stirring occasionally.
Once the dish has chilled for at least two hours and the salmon looks "cooked" due to the lime juice, add the coconut milk, sesame oil, salt and pepper. Toss and serve. A few extra chile slices or a lime wedge would make a nice garnish.
Spiced Beef with Tamarind
4 oz. tamarind pods (or substitute 2 T. tamarind paste)
1 T. coconut oil
1 3-inch cinnamon stick
2 shallots, minced
2 serrano chiles (red or green), minced
2 T. fresh ginger, minced
1 lb. beef sirloin, sliced into thin strips
1/4" light rum
1 cup coconut milk
splash sesame oil
salt and pepper to taste
cooked rice (when you cook the rice, add a cinnamon stick to the water for additional flavor)
ground cinnamon, for garnish
If you are using fresh tamarind, the pulp must first be extracted from the pods. This is not a difficult process, but it does take a bit of time and effort and produces a product far superior to the concentrated paste you'll find in jars.
In the photo collage below, from left to right, you'll see the result of each of the numbered steps below:
1) Remove the papery husk from each pod. This will give you a sticky fruit that bears the shape of what you'd see after walking a 25-35 pound dog.
2) Remove the fibrous veins from the pods. These fibers look frighteningly like centipedes.
3) Pour boiling water over the prepared pods. Let soak for 20-30 minutes, or until the pulp is softened and looks even more like dog crap.
4) Using a wide-meshed strainer, drain the soaked tamarind pods. Discard the water. Holding the strainer over a bowl, press the pods into the mesh using a large spoon. The seeds should pop out; they look kind of like black chicklets. Discard the seeds.
5) Continue to press the pulp through the mesh until all the soft pulp has been extracted. Any pulp that comes through the mesh but does not drop into the bowl can be scraped off the outside of the strainer with your spoon.
Once you've extracted the tamarind pulp, set aside and continue with the recipe.
Heat the coconut oil over medium-high heat in a large frying pan until it has melted. Next, add the cinnamon stick, shallots, chiles, and ginger. Cook for a minute or two, stirring frequently, then add the beef strips. Cook for a few minutes, stirring frequently, until the beef is mostly brown on the outside.
Next, add the rum and the reserved tamarind pulp. Cook, stirring constantly, until the tamarind pulp is completely blended with the rum. Now, add the coconut milk, sesame oil, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, until the sauce thickens and the coconut milk begins to bubble. Remove from heat, and remove the cinnamon stick.
To serve, fill a greased measuring cup with cooked rice. Invert the cup in the middle of a bowl or plate. Spoon the beef and its sauce around the inverted rice mold, then sprinkle the rice with a dusting of ground cinnamon.
* Because money doesn't grow on trees, this is not without limits - but I'm going to do what I can!
| tamarind pods |
When I came up with this idea, the devastation was still unfolding and nobody knew who would be affected. Because this site has readers in at least 10 Pacific Rim countries, I decided to make this weekend's recipes using ingredients native to areas that either were, or could have been, affected by this tragedy. My readers mean the world to me, and if I can cook for a cause and do something to help, I will gladly do so. With that, I bring you two recipes - Marinated Salmon with Coconut, and Spiced Beef with Tamarind.
Marinated Salmon with Coconut
1 lb. very fresh salmon, sliced into 1/3" strips
juice of 2 limes
1 T. fresh ginger, grated or very finely minced
1-2 shallots, sliced thin
1 serrano chile, seeded and thinly sliced
2 tomatoes, diced
2/3 c. coconut milk
splash sesame oil
salt and cracked black peppercorns
In a glass or ceramic bowl, combine all ingredients except the coconut milk, sesame oil, salt and pepper. Mix well, cover, and refrigerate for 2-3 hours, stirring occasionally.
Once the dish has chilled for at least two hours and the salmon looks "cooked" due to the lime juice, add the coconut milk, sesame oil, salt and pepper. Toss and serve. A few extra chile slices or a lime wedge would make a nice garnish.
Spiced Beef with Tamarind
4 oz. tamarind pods (or substitute 2 T. tamarind paste)
1 T. coconut oil
1 3-inch cinnamon stick
2 shallots, minced
2 serrano chiles (red or green), minced
2 T. fresh ginger, minced
1 lb. beef sirloin, sliced into thin strips
1/4" light rum
1 cup coconut milk
splash sesame oil
salt and pepper to taste
cooked rice (when you cook the rice, add a cinnamon stick to the water for additional flavor)
ground cinnamon, for garnish
If you are using fresh tamarind, the pulp must first be extracted from the pods. This is not a difficult process, but it does take a bit of time and effort and produces a product far superior to the concentrated paste you'll find in jars.
In the photo collage below, from left to right, you'll see the result of each of the numbered steps below:
1) Remove the papery husk from each pod. This will give you a sticky fruit that bears the shape of what you'd see after walking a 25-35 pound dog.
2) Remove the fibrous veins from the pods. These fibers look frighteningly like centipedes.
3) Pour boiling water over the prepared pods. Let soak for 20-30 minutes, or until the pulp is softened and looks even more like dog crap.
4) Using a wide-meshed strainer, drain the soaked tamarind pods. Discard the water. Holding the strainer over a bowl, press the pods into the mesh using a large spoon. The seeds should pop out; they look kind of like black chicklets. Discard the seeds.
5) Continue to press the pulp through the mesh until all the soft pulp has been extracted. Any pulp that comes through the mesh but does not drop into the bowl can be scraped off the outside of the strainer with your spoon.
Heat the coconut oil over medium-high heat in a large frying pan until it has melted. Next, add the cinnamon stick, shallots, chiles, and ginger. Cook for a minute or two, stirring frequently, then add the beef strips. Cook for a few minutes, stirring frequently, until the beef is mostly brown on the outside.
Next, add the rum and the reserved tamarind pulp. Cook, stirring constantly, until the tamarind pulp is completely blended with the rum. Now, add the coconut milk, sesame oil, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, until the sauce thickens and the coconut milk begins to bubble. Remove from heat, and remove the cinnamon stick.
To serve, fill a greased measuring cup with cooked rice. Invert the cup in the middle of a bowl or plate. Spoon the beef and its sauce around the inverted rice mold, then sprinkle the rice with a dusting of ground cinnamon.
* Because money doesn't grow on trees, this is not without limits - but I'm going to do what I can!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Seafood en Espanol
In my travels two weeks ago, I found a Spanish cookbook on sale for $7.99. Since that purchase, I've wanted to give my cooking a little sabor espanol. Unfortunately, I haven't had time to sleep lately, much less cook and write, but when I found out that A) my weekend plans were pretty low-key and I'd actually have some time on my hands, and B) Mercato del Mare had razor clams (which I've never tried before), I put my mind to creating the feast of all feasts and seasoning each dish with a sprinkling of sunny Spain.
While most of the ingredients in these recipes are fairly common, you can make simple substitutions for the ingredients you cannot locate. For example, if you cannot find Manchego cheese, use an aged monterey jack. Any kind of firm sprouts can be used in place of the pea shoots, just don't use alfalfa sprouts - they're too flimsy. Any live clam can be used in place of the razor clam, and if you can't locate monkfish, use small (approx 2 oz) pieces of tuna, swordfish, or shark steaks.
Quinoa and Roasted Red Pepper Timbales
2 c. chicken broth or vegetable stock
1 c. uncooked quinoa, rinsed and drained
1/2 t. cumin seeds
1/2 t. smoked sea salt
1 T. smoked paprika
1/3 cup shredded Manchego cheese
1 fresh red chile, minced (optional)
2 roasted red bell peppers, minced (for instructions, click here)
olive oil
Bring the chicken broth to a boil, then add the quinoa and cumin. Stir, reduce heat, and let simmer for approximately 15 minutes, or until the liquid has completely evaporated. Stir in all remaining ingredients except the minced roasted red bell pepper and remove from heat.
Next, take a small drinking glass or measuring cup, pour in a little olive oil and cover the inside of the glass entirely. It should be very slippery. Add a layer of the cooked quinoa and pack in, but not too tightly or it could stick (you might want to practice this a few times - my first try was a disaster, but you develop a feel for it!). Next, add a layer of the minced roasted red bell pepper. Add more layers, alternating between quinoa and red pepper, as shown in photo to the left. Repeat until the cup is filled.
To serve, invert the molds on a plate (as shown in photo below), and garnish with any additional red pepper.
Steamed Razor Clams with Pimenton Gremolata
For the gremolata:
zest of 1 lemon
1/4 c. chopped parsley
1 large garlic clove, very finely minced
1 t. smoked paprika
1/2 t. smoked sea salt
For the clams:
1/4 c. olive oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 t. fresh red chile, minced
1/4 c. dry white wine
juice of 1 lemon
1 lb. razor clams
First, make the gremolata by combining all gremolata ingredients in a small bowl. Set aside.
In a large frying pan with a lid, heat the olive oil, then add the garlic and chile. Saute for a few minutes until the garlic becomes fragrant, but do not let the garlic burn. Now, add the wine and lemon juice. Stir to blend, then add the clams. Cover, then simmer for 3-5 minutes or until the shells have opened. Remove from heat, but keep warm.
Razor clams require a little more work than regular clams, so be sure to follow this step after steaming if using razor clams rather than regular clams. You'll see that the clam kind of splits into a "Y" shape - grab the arm of the "Y" that connects to the dark organs, and pull - this should separate the muscle part of the clam from the dark bits. Just pull and discard the dark bits, and if there is any dark matter remaining, squeeze or slice it away. Repeat with all the clams.
To serve, place the cleaned clams back into their shells, sprinkle with a pinch of the gremolata, and arrange on a plate, as shown in the picture above.
Pea Shoots with Garlic Dressing
1 bunch pea shoots
Reserved cooking liquid from steamed clams
Separate the pea shoots into small parcels, and find the longest shoot in each bunch. Use the long shoot to tie the others together. Spoon a few teaspoons of the clam cooking oil over each parcel, making sure to include some of the garlic and chile bits.
Monkfish Medallions with Sherried Roasted Red Pepper Sauce
For the sauce:
1 roasted red bell pepper, chopped
1/4 c. Amontillado sherry
1 garlic clove, chopped
2 t. smoked paprika
2 T. heavy cream
2 T. olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
For the monkfish:
1 monkfish tail, cut into 1.5 inch thick medallions
flour seasoned with salt and pepper, for dredging
olive oil, for frying
First, make the sauce. Combine all the ingredients in a blender, puree until liquefied, and set aside.
Take each of the monkfish medallions and dredge in the seasoned flour, making sure to shake off any excess flour. Set aside. Heat a large, heavy bottomed frying pan. When it is hot, add a generous splash of olive oil. Once the olive oil is heated and covers the entire surface of the pan, add the monkfish medallions and cook for 2-3 minutes per side until slightly golden. Remove from heat when they are done.
To serve, place 2-3 medallions on a plate and drizzle with the Sherried Roasted Red Pepper Sauce.
| live razor clams |
Quinoa and Roasted Red Pepper Timbales
2 c. chicken broth or vegetable stock
1 c. uncooked quinoa, rinsed and drained
1/2 t. cumin seeds
1/2 t. smoked sea salt
1 T. smoked paprika
1/3 cup shredded Manchego cheese
1 fresh red chile, minced (optional)
2 roasted red bell peppers, minced (for instructions, click here)
olive oil
Bring the chicken broth to a boil, then add the quinoa and cumin. Stir, reduce heat, and let simmer for approximately 15 minutes, or until the liquid has completely evaporated. Stir in all remaining ingredients except the minced roasted red bell pepper and remove from heat.
Next, take a small drinking glass or measuring cup, pour in a little olive oil and cover the inside of the glass entirely. It should be very slippery. Add a layer of the cooked quinoa and pack in, but not too tightly or it could stick (you might want to practice this a few times - my first try was a disaster, but you develop a feel for it!). Next, add a layer of the minced roasted red bell pepper. Add more layers, alternating between quinoa and red pepper, as shown in photo to the left. Repeat until the cup is filled.
To serve, invert the molds on a plate (as shown in photo below), and garnish with any additional red pepper.
Steamed Razor Clams with Pimenton Gremolata
zest of 1 lemon
1/4 c. chopped parsley
1 large garlic clove, very finely minced
1 t. smoked paprika
1/2 t. smoked sea salt
For the clams:
1/4 c. olive oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 t. fresh red chile, minced
1/4 c. dry white wine
juice of 1 lemon
1 lb. razor clams
First, make the gremolata by combining all gremolata ingredients in a small bowl. Set aside.
In a large frying pan with a lid, heat the olive oil, then add the garlic and chile. Saute for a few minutes until the garlic becomes fragrant, but do not let the garlic burn. Now, add the wine and lemon juice. Stir to blend, then add the clams. Cover, then simmer for 3-5 minutes or until the shells have opened. Remove from heat, but keep warm.
Razor clams require a little more work than regular clams, so be sure to follow this step after steaming if using razor clams rather than regular clams. You'll see that the clam kind of splits into a "Y" shape - grab the arm of the "Y" that connects to the dark organs, and pull - this should separate the muscle part of the clam from the dark bits. Just pull and discard the dark bits, and if there is any dark matter remaining, squeeze or slice it away. Repeat with all the clams.
To serve, place the cleaned clams back into their shells, sprinkle with a pinch of the gremolata, and arrange on a plate, as shown in the picture above.
Pea Shoots with Garlic Dressing
1 bunch pea shoots
Reserved cooking liquid from steamed clams
Separate the pea shoots into small parcels, and find the longest shoot in each bunch. Use the long shoot to tie the others together. Spoon a few teaspoons of the clam cooking oil over each parcel, making sure to include some of the garlic and chile bits.
Monkfish Medallions with Sherried Roasted Red Pepper Sauce
1 roasted red bell pepper, chopped
1/4 c. Amontillado sherry
1 garlic clove, chopped
2 t. smoked paprika
2 T. heavy cream
2 T. olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
For the monkfish:
1 monkfish tail, cut into 1.5 inch thick medallions
flour seasoned with salt and pepper, for dredging
olive oil, for frying
First, make the sauce. Combine all the ingredients in a blender, puree until liquefied, and set aside.
Take each of the monkfish medallions and dredge in the seasoned flour, making sure to shake off any excess flour. Set aside. Heat a large, heavy bottomed frying pan. When it is hot, add a generous splash of olive oil. Once the olive oil is heated and covers the entire surface of the pan, add the monkfish medallions and cook for 2-3 minutes per side until slightly golden. Remove from heat when they are done.
To serve, place 2-3 medallions on a plate and drizzle with the Sherried Roasted Red Pepper Sauce.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Ingredient Spotlight - Thai Eggplant
What is Thai Eggplant? From what I determined, it's a cuter version of common purple eggplant!
I stumbled across a bag of Thai Eggplant in the produce department of my grocery store. Each no larger than a tangerine, some as small as a golf ball, these shamrock green spheres speckled with white aroused my curiosity. Do they they taste any different from regular eggplant? Is their texture the same? What color is the flesh inside? I stopped staring at them and threw them into my basket, mentally shuffling my shopping list to include the ingredients for a traditional Thai green curry with beef.
While slicing the Thai Eggplant, I noticed that they contained more seeds than regular purple eggplant. This could be due to their small size. The flavor is exactly the same as purple eggplant, and so is the texture. My conclusion? Unless you want to add visual interest to a dish, there is no need to seek out these eggplants when you could simply use the easier to locate and easier to prepare common purple eggplant. That being said, here is the recipe I created with my Thai Eggplant.
Thai Eggplants in Beef Curry
1 T. coconut oil (can substitute vegetable oil)
1 lb. beef sirloin, sliced into 1/4" strips (also known as "stir-fry beef")
1 shallot or small onion, minced
2 lb. Thai eggplants, quartered or cut into eighths (or substitute diced purple eggplant)
1 can coconut milk
1t - 2T. Thai green curry paste (depends on how spicy you like it)
1t. grated fresh ginger
2 T. soy sauce
1 T. fish sauce
black pepper to taste
generous handful shredded basil leaves
red chile flakes (optional)
cooked rice noodles
Heat the coconut oil over medium-high heat in a large, heavy-bottomed pan. When heated through, add the beef strips and brown for 2-3 minutes. Add the shallot or onion and saute for another minute or so, or until the shallot is translucent. Now, add the eggplant and stir a few times to combine.
Add the coconut milk, curry paste, ginger, soy sauce, fish sauce, and pepper. Stir to combine, reduce heat to low, and simmer for about 10 minutes, or until the eggplant has softened and the sauce has thickened up a bit.
Spoon the curry over cooked rice noodles, and garnish each dish with shredded basil, and chile flakes if you prefer a little extra heat.
I stumbled across a bag of Thai Eggplant in the produce department of my grocery store. Each no larger than a tangerine, some as small as a golf ball, these shamrock green spheres speckled with white aroused my curiosity. Do they they taste any different from regular eggplant? Is their texture the same? What color is the flesh inside? I stopped staring at them and threw them into my basket, mentally shuffling my shopping list to include the ingredients for a traditional Thai green curry with beef.
While slicing the Thai Eggplant, I noticed that they contained more seeds than regular purple eggplant. This could be due to their small size. The flavor is exactly the same as purple eggplant, and so is the texture. My conclusion? Unless you want to add visual interest to a dish, there is no need to seek out these eggplants when you could simply use the easier to locate and easier to prepare common purple eggplant. That being said, here is the recipe I created with my Thai Eggplant.
Thai Eggplants in Beef Curry
1 T. coconut oil (can substitute vegetable oil)
1 lb. beef sirloin, sliced into 1/4" strips (also known as "stir-fry beef")
1 shallot or small onion, minced
2 lb. Thai eggplants, quartered or cut into eighths (or substitute diced purple eggplant)
1 can coconut milk
1t - 2T. Thai green curry paste (depends on how spicy you like it)
1t. grated fresh ginger
2 T. soy sauce
1 T. fish sauce
black pepper to taste
generous handful shredded basil leaves
red chile flakes (optional)
cooked rice noodles
Heat the coconut oil over medium-high heat in a large, heavy-bottomed pan. When heated through, add the beef strips and brown for 2-3 minutes. Add the shallot or onion and saute for another minute or so, or until the shallot is translucent. Now, add the eggplant and stir a few times to combine.
Add the coconut milk, curry paste, ginger, soy sauce, fish sauce, and pepper. Stir to combine, reduce heat to low, and simmer for about 10 minutes, or until the eggplant has softened and the sauce has thickened up a bit.
Spoon the curry over cooked rice noodles, and garnish each dish with shredded basil, and chile flakes if you prefer a little extra heat.
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