blue artichoke

We didn't actually have Russian food today for Wandering Gullet. I'm by myself for dinner as GC is off skiing in St. Louis. Yes, there are actually places to ski in St. Louis.

However, we did have a great Russian meal in Las Vegas a few weeks ago, at Red Square in Mandalay Bay. The website describes the atmosphere as capturing the romance and intrigue of Imperialist Russia, but the giant hammer and sickle carved into the floor in the entrance and the giant painting of Lenin glorify Communism and the atrocities committed under Lenin's Red Terror. A weird thing to emphasize in a restaurant. But, the food was good.

After the very disappointing Russian Red Lentil soup I made, I felt I owed Russia another chance (culinarily, that is). I hoped to try vareniki, a favorite of Red Meat and Crawfish Etoufee, but it wasn't on the menu. So, I had chicken Kiev. Deeeelicious, although all the herb/butter mixture was concentrated in one spot, so I didn't find it until I was almost done, then BAM! - suddenly my chicken had mad flava. Someone else at the table got beef stroganoff. That was the best choice, by far. We all helped ourselves to each other's food and unanimously declared the BS to be the tastiest. GC got a duck dish, which probably earned second-best dish on the table even though it wasn't distinctly Russian.

Red Square also carried my favorite Polish vodka, Zubrowka, but at $16 a shot, it was too spendy for me. Plus, Polish vodka is a troublemaker. Polish beer is better. I have no experience with Russian beer. Or with real Russian vodka.

Getting to Know All About You: What's your favorite foreign beverage?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 10:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

First of all, let me tell you why there were no Sunday Muffins this week. Friday and Saturday, but mostly Saturday, I dove into holiday baking and baked up a storm. When the flour settled, I was too tuckered out to break another egg or measure another teaspoon of baking soda. No muffins. I do, however, have a beautiful cookie tray. More on that tomorrow, when I have pictures of my glorious creations.

Last night's Wandering Gullet dinner was selected with the baking frenzy in mind. I knew I wouldn't be up for anything overly complicated or time-consuming, so I chose a slow-cooker meal: Russian Red Lentil Soup. I assembled the ingredients and started it cooking at 4:00 yesterday afternoon. Though the recipe said to cook on low for 3 hours, I started it on high (because I like to heat things quickly to minimize time spent in the danger zone of 40-140F). I intended to turn down the heat after an hour, but I got sidetracked with other things and left it on high for all three hours. Somehow, I think it was still a bit undercooked. The lentils were slightly crunchy and the onions were definitely crunchy. Maybe that's how Russians like their lentils and onions. I prefer them a bit softer. GC liked the soup well enough; I did not. I'm not convinced this is typical Russian fare, but if it is, I can understand why they waited for hours in lines for bread. I ate my popovers but decided the soup was not good enough to eat, so I fried a couple of eggs for my dinner. I'll not share the recipe with you.

Finally, happy birthday to Purple Fried Okra!

Getting to Know All About You: What food do you think it would be worth spending hours waiting in line for?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 10:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Although I'm not Jewish, I do like the food, so I celebrate Jewish holidays when it suits me. Hanukkah officially began at sundown last Tuesday, but it lasts eight days, so my Sunday holiday dinner was timely.

Hanukkah is the festival of lights, and celebrates "miracle of the container of oil" which had only enough consecrated oil to fuel the eternal flame for one day at the re-dedication of the Temple after the victory of the Maccabees over the Seleucid Empire, but miraculously burned for eight, giving them time to harvest and press more olive oil. As such a miraculous oil, the holiday is celebrated by guzzling as much olive oil as possible in eight days.

Now, if you're going to drink your body weight in oil, olive oil is the healthiest way to go, as monounsaturated fats have been linked to a reduction in the risk of developing coronary heart disease. As wise as those second-century Jews were, though, I'm pretty sure that olive oil is one of those good-in-moderation, more-does-not-equal-better health elixirs.

Our celebratory oil-consumption came via traditional potato latkes (shredded potatoes formed into patties and fried in, what else, olive oil), and a roast chicken rubbed with olive oil. The latkes were OK, but not special enough to share with you. I've made better. The chicken, though, was so simple and delicious that I'll definitely share. The skin was golden brown and crispy and the meat was tender and so juicy. Roasting a chicken is one of the easiest meals, but mine often come out somehow both dry and undercooked (thanks to an oven door that doesn't actually close all the way). This one was perfect.

Roast Chicken

2 3-4-pound chickens
3 lemons, cut into 1” chunks
1 head of garlic, separated into cloves
Olive oil
½ t. kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 bunch fresh thyme sprigs
½ c. white wine or dry vermouth

Rinse chicken; pat dry. Heat oven to 375.

Place the lemon and garlic in the chickens’ cavities. Tie the legs together. Rub the birds with some oil; sprinkle with salt and lots of pepper. Tuck some thyme sprigs between the breast and the thighs and wings. Put the remaining sprigs in the roasting pan and place the chickens on top. Roast for 1-½ h or until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the thickest part of a thigh reads 180°F. Remove the chickens to a platter. Pour any juices that accumulate back into the pan. Discard the thyme. Place the pan over med heat, add the wine; bring to a boil, scraping up any browned bits in the bottom of the pan.

Pour the pan juices into a cup and place in the freezer for ~10m to hasten the separation of the fat. Discard the fat and heat the remaining juices in a saucepan or in the microwave. Serve with one of the chickens. Wrap and refrigerate the other chicken for another meal.

Serves 4 with leftovers.

Real Simple, February 2004.

I halved the recipe, cooking only one chicken, and still had plenty of leftovers. We picked at the bird for a few meals, then today I stripped the old carcass of its meat and shredded it to use in a chicken casserole later this week. See, you don't have to be Jewish to be industrious. The oil might have lasted eight days, but this bird will last nine. At least.

Getting to Know All About You: Excluding Rudolph, who's your favorite reindeer? And why?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 07:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Last night I watched two episodes of Dexter, another dark tv show, and dreamed about a group of guys I hung out with in college and one guy I've known since we rode the bus together in middle school. Weird.

Anyway, GC has returned from San Antonio, so I got back into the kitchen to cook a real dinner, Portuguese-style. Yesterday morning was stormy, and after the rain passed, was just cold. A hot soup was in order, and this one, full of sausage, sweet potatoes, beans and kale warmed us up nicely. Using sweet potatoes instead of regular white potatoes and sweet turkey Italian sausage made the soup surprisingly sweet, in a good way. I halved the recipe, but we still have plenty of leftovers to be enjoyed on another cold and blustery day.

Sweet Potato, Sausage, and Kale Soup

This version of a traditional Portuguese soup uses sweet potatoes in place of white potatoes. For a thicker consistency, coarsely mash some of the beans before adding them to the soup.

2 tablespoons olive oil
4 cups chopped onion (about 2 large)
1 teaspoon salt, divided
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper
6 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 pound sweet turkey Italian sausage
8 cups coarsely chopped peeled sweet potato (about 2 1/4 pounds)
5 cups water
4 cups fat-free, less-sodium chicken broth
1 (16-ounce) package prewashed torn kale or 2 bunches kale, ribs removed, thoroughly washed and coarsely chopped
1 (16-ounce) can cannellini beans or other white beans, rinsed and drained

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add onion; sauté 5 minutes. Add 1/2 teaspoon salt, pepper, and garlic; sauté 1 minute. Remove casings from sausage; add sausage to pan. Cook 5 minutes or until sausage is lightly browned, stirring to crumble. Add potato, 5 cups water, and broth; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer 8 minutes. Gradually add kale; cook 10 minutes or until tender. Stir in remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and beans; cook 5 minutes or until thoroughly heated.

Yield: 10 servings (serving size: about 1 3/4 cups)

CALORIES 254 (29% from fat); FAT 8.2g (sat 2.1g,mono 3.4g,poly 1.4g); PROTEIN 14.2g; CHOLESTEROL 27mg; CALCIUM 132mg; SODIUM 797mg; FIBER 6.9g; IRON 2.9mg; CARBOHYDRATE 34.8g

Cooking Light, MARCH 2007

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 10:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I wasn't particularly in the mood to cook yesterday, but I forged ahead into Belgian territory. I made Carbonnade a la Flamande, aka Belgian Beef, Beer and Onion Stew. This stew almost didn't happen, because we drank the beer I had been reserving for this recipe. I couldn't just leave it out, it's part of the title! So, I sent my ever-helpful Gentleman Caller out on a beer run, and he returned with a Belgian winter brew: Full Moon, by Blue Moon (which, by the way, is a pretty good beer, even to my beer-phobic taste buds). So, the dinner went on as planned.

Carbonnade a la Flamande (Belgian Beef, Beer, and Onion Stew)

Top blade steaks (also called blade or flatiron steaks) are our first choice, but any boneless roast from the chuck will work. If you end up using a chuck roast, look for the chuck eye roast, an especially flavorful cut that can easily be trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces. Buttered egg noodles or mashed potatoes make excellent accompaniments to carbonnade. The traditional copper-colored Belgian ale works best in this stew. If you can't find one, choose another dark or amber-colored ale of your liking.

3 1/2 pounds blade steaks , 1 inch thick, trimmed of gristle and fat and cut into 1-inch pieces (see illustrations below)
Table salt and ground black pepper
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 pounds yellow onions (about 3 medium), halved and sliced about 1/4 inch thick (about 8 cups)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 medium cloves garlic , minced or pressed through garlic press (about 2 teaspoons)
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
3/4 cup low-sodium beef broth
1 1/2 cups beer (12-ounce bottle or can)
4 sprigs fresh thyme , tied with kitchen twine
2 bay leaves
1 tablespoon cider vinegar

1. Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position; heat oven to 300 degrees. Dry beef thoroughly with paper towels, then season generously with salt and pepper. Heat 2 teaspoons oil in large heavy-bottomed Dutch oven over medium-high heat until beginning to smoke; add about one-third of beef to pot. Cook without moving pieces until well browned, 2 to 3 minutes; using tongs, turn each piece and continue cooking until second side is well browned, about 5 minutes longer. Transfer browned beef to medium bowl. Repeat with additional 2 teaspoons oil and half of remaining beef. (If drippings in bottom of pot are very dark, add about 1/2 cup of above-listed chicken or beef broth and scrape pan bottom with wooden spoon to loosen browned bits; pour liquid into bowl with browned beef, then proceed.) Repeat once more with 2 teaspoons oil and remaining beef.

2. Add remaining 1 tablespoon oil to now-empty Dutch oven; reduce heat to medium-low. Add onions, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and tomato paste; cook, scraping bottom of pot with wooden spoon to loosen browned bits, until onions have released some moisture, about 5 minutes. Increase heat to medium and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until onions are lightly browned, 12 to 14 minutes. Stir in garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add flour and stir until onions are evenly coated and flour is lightly browned, about 2 minutes. Stir in broths, scraping pan bottom to loosen browned bits; stir in beer, thyme, bay, vinegar, browned beef with any accumulated juices, and salt and pepper to taste. Increase heat to medium-high and bring to full simmer, stirring occasionally; cover partially, then place pot in oven. Cook until fork inserted into beef meets little resistance, about 2 to 2 1/2 hours.

3. Discard thyme and bay. Adjust seasonings with salt and pepper to taste and serve. (Can be cooled and refrigerated in airtight container for up to 4 days; reheat over medium-low heat.)

Serves 6.
Cook’s Illustrated, 11/2004

I halved the recipe and cut the beef into smaller chunks, because I had to reduce the cooking time from 2 1/2 hours to just 1 hour. Why? Because it took so long for me to assemble the second Belgian dish that I got a very late start on the stew. The stew is really good, dark and meaty, and very filling.

The other dish was a Belgian Prune Pie. Prune pie sounds kind of gross, but if you think of it as a dried plum pie, it's not so bad. I like prunes, and I wanted to know what desserts will be like when I become a crotchety old lady who measures time by bathroom visits. This recipe is the worst I've ever seen, more difficult to follow even than tipsy scrawlings on a damp bar napkin. It was from the book American Pie, which has lots of great pie recipes and stories, but this one is really confusing. The crust is made from mashed potatoes, and the instructions say to let the crust rise until doubled. It will rot before that happens, as there is no leavening agent included in the ingredients. There is flour, though, so I tried using self-rising flour. Not powerful enough to make potatoes double in size. The prune filling uses 1 1/2# of prunes, and makes about a half-gallon of filling. Just what sort of pie plate can hold this much filling? Don't know! The recipe doesn't say. I used a springform pan, anticipating the overflow of a pie plate. I still had too much filling, which is now in a bowl in the fridge. What the heck am I supposed to do with pureed prunes? Wander the streets looking for homeless babies to feed, I suppose. After I assembled the thing as best I could, the 20 minute baking time left me with a runny mess. After an hour of baking, it still wasn't done, but I was sick of it and took it out of the oven anyway because I was tired and wanted to go to bed. I was ready to chuck the whole thing in the trash, but GC's cooler head prevailed and we at least sampled the thing (that is, after the still-runny prune filling seeped out of the bottom of the springform pan all over the stove top). This "pie" pissed me off and made me hate baking. It took forever, dirtied all sorts of dishes, created unwanted leftovers, and wasn't even good. Boo! Worst pie ever.

Getting to Know All About You: What's your greatest culinary disaster?

P.S. I was "ma'am"ed at the gym today, and by a guy that I sort of know and have spoken to before! I feel old. Maybe it's time for the pureed prunes after all.

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 08:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Finally, I had a night where I wasn't too busy to cook, and we could enjoy the tastes of Scotland (no haggis!) that I had planned for last Sunday. I chose Scotland because I recently spoke with Magenta Green Goddess, a friend since elementary school. Though we have moved apart ideologically and geographically, we still keep in touch and see each other whenever we can. She's the kind of friend who will call up after several months of silence and invite you to go to Poland with her, on a whim. And I'm the kind of friend who says, "Poland? Bring it on!" So, why a Scottish meal instead of a Polish meal? Magenta Green Goddess studied in Scotland for a while, and the two were a good fit for each other. I think she feels the same way about Scotland as I do about eastern and southern Africa. Just give me a reason to go...

Anyway, I associate her with Scotland, so after a long catch-up phone call, I thought I'd try out some Scottish food. The entree was cockaleekie, a traditional Scottish stew made with a tough old foul that needs hours of cooking to tenderize. Some say that this stew was the fate of the losing bird in a cockfight, thrown into a pot with leeks for flavoring and served to the spectators. Hmmm... I kind of like that imagery, brutal as it is. I'm now going to think of a chicken processing plant as one big cockfighting ring, where the losers are scooped up, plucked, dismembered, packaged and sent into my awaiting arms. The winner wears a crown of flowers and struts around the plant. It seems more humane somehow; the chickens at least stand a chance against each other.

You don't need to go to the seedy back alley cockfights or find a tough old fowl for this dish. Using fresh, young, boneless, skinless chicken breasts makes this a quick-cooking and low-fat dish. Prunes are a traditional ingredient. You can omit them if you want, the dish will be good either way. I doubled the amount of prunes, and thought it was excellent.

Cockaleekie

2 whole skinned, boneless chicken breasts
2 T. veggie oil
4 leeks, white part only
2 c. water [I used 1 c. of water and 1 c. of chicken stock]
½ c. pearly barley, rinsed and drained
1 bay leaf
½ t. salt
¼ t. each dried thyme and white pepper
8 whole pitted prunes
2 T. minced fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 400. Cut each chicken breast into 4 pieces lengthwise. In a Dutch oven, brown the chicken pieces, a few at a time, in the oil. Remove the chicken.

Cut the leeks in half lengthwise and wash well; chop. Sauté the leeks in the Dutch oven until they are limp and lightly browned. Return the chicken to the pan and add the remaining ingredients, except the prunes and parsley.

Bring to a boil, cover and place in oven. Bake 30m. Add the prunes. Bake 15m, or until the barley is tender but still al dente. The chicken should be cooked through. [When adding the prunes, I roughly cut the chicken into smaller, bite-size pieces by using a fork to pull it into chunks. The big pieces just seem unwieldy.]

The stew can be prepared ahead and reheated in a microwave in a glass casserole for a few minutes or in a conventional oven for ~30m at 350.

Remove the bay leaf, sprinkle with parsley and serve.

Serves 4.

Superfoods: 300 Recipes for Foods that Heal Body and Mind, by Dolores Riccio

This was a pretty plain and straightforward chicken stew. I thought it would be kind of bland or boring, but I was pleasantly surprised at the depth of flavor. I'll definitely make this dish again.

The dessert, however, was just so-so, and I definitely will not make it again. I made a peach and raspberry cranachan, which is a traditional Scottish dessert. Nowadays it is usually made from a mixture of whipped cream, whisky, honey, and fresh raspberries topped with toasted oatmeal. Earlier recipes for cranachan or cream-crowdie are more austere, omitting the whisky and treating the fruit as an optional extra, leaving just the cream, honey and oatmeal. This version is made with low-fat pastry cream instead of whipped cream, but in true Scot fashion, I used Scotch whisky for the pastry cream flavoring. A little splash will do! I made the pastry cream two days in advance of serving, which meant that the Scotch flavor had 48-hours to develop. Not a Scotch drinker, I thought it was a bit too boozy for me.

Peach and Raspberry Cranachan

1 c. uncooked “old-fashioned” oats
2 T. brown sugar
¼ t. cinnamon
1# can cling peach slices packed w/o water, or 3 large fresh peaches, peeled and thinly sliced
1 ¼ c. pastry cream* flavored with 1 T. rum or, if you want to be really authentic, Scotch whisky
1 c. frozen raspberries, packed w/o sugar, unthawed but separated

Layer the oats in a baking pan and toast in a 350F oven until golden, 8-10m. Watch carefully that they don’t become brown. Put them in a bowl and stir in the brown sugar and cinnamon. Blend the mixture by rubbing it between your fingers.

Drain the peaches well.

Make the pastry cream. Put a heaping tablespoon of the pudding in each of 4 dessert bowls. Divide the drained peaches among the bowls. Top with the remaining pudding. Sprinkle with the frozen raspberries (which will thaw before serving). Press them down lightly. Chill until set, ~1h.

Just before serving, sprinkle the desserts with the toasted oat mixture.

Serves 4.

Pastry Cream

2 T. cornstarch
1 c. milk
2 egg yolks or ½ c. egg substitute
¼ c. honey, slightly warmed
1/8 t. salt
Flavoring

In a med-size saucepan, stir the cornstarch into the milk until there are no lumps. Whisk in eggs, honey and salt. Cook over med direct heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture bubbles and thickens. Lower the heat and cook 1m. Remove from heat and stir in the flavoring.

Let cool before using it as a filling, then chill it in the fridge until set.

Makes ~ 1-¼ c.

NB: The basic flavoring is 1 t. of vanilla and ½ t. of natural almond extract. Substitutions depend on the recipe in which the pastry cream is to be used. Instead of vanilla and almond, you may want to use on e of the following flavors: 1 T. liqueur or dark rum, 2 T. of a sweet wine such as Marsala, or 1 T. lemon juice with ½ t. grated lemon zest.

NB: To make 1 ½ x the recipe, use the following measurements:
3 T. cornstarch
1-½ c. milk
3 egg yolks or ½ c. egg substitute
1/3 c. honey
scant ¼ t. salt

Superfoods: 300 Recipes for Foods that Heal Body and Mind, by Dolores Riccio

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 09:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Sometimes I'm inspired to try a new country or experiment with new ingredients and flavors. Sometimes I'm not. This week I wanted comfort food, familiar and hardy. So, moussaka, which is Greek. I love moussaka, particularly the moussaka at the International Cafe, a local restaurant. I've tried many recipes, but this is the closest I've come to duplicating that recipe. This one is also the closest to a traditional moussaka as I've made: a bottom layer of sliced eggplants, topped with a layer of ground beef or lamb (I used beef) sauteed with onions, garlic, tomatoes, oregano, thyme and a bay leaf, and spiced with cinnamon, allspice and pepper, and topped with a layer of cheesy béchamel. This recipe included mint jelly or fresh mint; I used dried mint. Other variations I've made have included potatoes and zucchini; those are good, no doubt, but not the moussaka I seek. This one is. It is sort of time consuming to make, as the eggplant and ground beef are fully cooked before layering, but it's no more difficult than making a lasagna. Try it. You'll see.

Moussaka

3 medium eggplants, peeled and sliced ½-inch thick
Olive oil
6 tablespoons butter
6 tablespoons flour
3 cups milk
2 eggs plus 1 yolk, well beaten
Fresh nutmeg, to taste
1 pound ground beef or lamb
1 onion, peeled and chopped
3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
8 ounces tomato sauce
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon fresh parsley
2 tablespoons mint jelly or fresh mint
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
1 cup dry bread crumbs
2 cups mozzarella cheese, grated
2 tablespoon pecorino cheese

Salt the eggplant slices generously and drain in a colander for one hour while making béchamel and meat sauce. Rinse eggplant and sauté in olive oil on both sides until brown. Drain on paper towels.

For the béchamel sauce: In a saucepan over medium heat, melt butter with flour. Whisk until well blended and add milk. Gently bring to a boil, stirring, and simmer two minutes. Whisk a cup of this mixture into eggs and yolk. Whisk the egg mixture back into the white sauce and bring up to a gentle simmer, whisking until thick. Do not boil. Add nutmeg. Let cool. It will be thick. This can be prepared a day ahead and refrigerated.

For the meat sauce: Brown meat in heavy frying pan with a little olive oil. Drain grease, add onion and sauté until soft. Add garlic, sauté 30 seconds and add tomato sauce, seasonings and mint jelly. Simmer gently until quite thick. This can be prepared three days ahead and refrigerated.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Assemble: Line bottom of 9-by-13-inch pan completely with eggplant. Spread ½ of meat mixture on top. Spread 1/3 of béchamel over meat. Sprinkle with 1 cup cheese, 1/3 cup of crumbs. Repeat layers. Then put in the remaining eggplant, white sauce and crumbs. Cover and bake one hour, uncover and bake until browned and bubbly. Serve with a light green salad.

This recipe freezes well.

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 06:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sunday was the last night of the German Oktoberfest Wandering Gullet meals. I made just two recipes, a soup and a dessert. The soup was a fairly typical beef and vegetable variety, plus tiny dumplings. I hated making the dumplings, mostly because it took several false starts to find the right equipment. See, the dumplings really are tiny, formed by pressing the dough through small holes in, say, a colander. My colander has really tiny holes, so the dough cooked on the inside of the colander before I could even press it through the holes. No good. I tried just cutting off tiny portions of dough from a big lump, but the dough was too runny. Next, I tried squeezing the dough through a pastry bag fitted with my smallest round tip and cutting off the dough in small bits as it squeezed out, like making gnocchi. That was OK, but the dough wasn't really thick enough to cut, so it ended up looking like odd strips. Finally, I found a tool that worked well:

This is a strainer that I found when I lived at my grandmother's house and took with me when I moved, because I thought it was neat. I usually use it to drain grease after browning ground beef in a skillet, but now it is my official spätzle -maker. (By the way, there are tool specifically for making spätzle . Check them out if you find yourself in need of another kitchen-cluttering gadget). If this strainer didn't work, my next attempt would be to use a food mill fitted with the disc with the largest holes. I think that would have worked as well, or better, than my strainer, but it wasn't in arm's reach at the time. For an even easier method of making tiny dumplings, I recommend buying a vacuum-packed package of gnocchi and cutting them into smaller chunks. Yes, cutting gnocchi is tiresome, but much, much easier and faster than making your own spätzle .

After dirtying up most of the dishes in my kitchen, I really hoped this soup would be terrible, so I wouldn't be tempted to make it again. It was good, really good. The dumplings totally make the soup, so if you consider leaving them out, there's no need to make the soup at all. The recipe says that it serves 4, but we have enough leftovers to serve four. The dumplings soaked up most of the broth, so I'll have to add water or beef stock when I serve it again.

Gaisburger Marsch (Vegetable-Beef Soup with Tiny Dumplings)

1# boneless beef chuck, cut into 1” cubes
1# beef marrow bones, sawed, not chopped, into 1” pieces
2 qt cold water
1 large onion, peeled and pierced with 2 whole cloves
1 small bay leaf
1 t. salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 c. coarsely diced peeled celery root
½ c. coarsely diced scraped carrots
½ c. coarsely diced scraped parsnips
1 c. coarsely diced leeks, including 2” of the green top
2-½ c. coarsely diced potatoes
Once recipe Spätzle*
1 T. finely chopped parsley

In a heavy 5- to 6-qt flameproof casserole or soup pot, bring the beef, bones and water to a boil over high heat, skimming off foam and scum as they rise to the surface. Reduce the heat to the lowest possible point, add the onion pierced with cloves, bay leaf, salt and a few grindings of pepper; simmer, partially covered, 1 ½ hours, skimming whenever necessary. Remove the onion and bay leaf, discard them, and transfer the bones to a plate.

With a small spoon or the tip of a knife, scoop out the marrow from the bones; add it to the soup and discard the bones. Add the celery root, carrots, parsnips, leeks and potatoes; simmer, undisturbed for 30m, or until veggies and meat are tender. Stir the Spätzle into the simmering soup and cook 1-2m longer to heat them through. Add the parsley, taste for seasoning and serve from a large heated tureen or in individual soup bowls.

Serves 4.

Spätzle (Tiny Dumplings)

3 c. flour
1 t. salt
¼ t. ground nutmeg
4 eggs
1 c. milk

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, ½ t. of salt and nutmeg.

Break up the eggs with a fork and beat into the flour mixture. Pour in the milk in a thin stream, stirring constantly with a large spoon, and continue to stir until the dough is smooth.

Bring 2 quarts of water and remaining ½ t. salt to a boil in a heavy 4- to 5-qt saucepan. Set a large colander, preferably one with large holes, over the saucepan and with a spoon press the dough a few tablespoons at a time through the colander directly into the boiling water. Stir the Spätzle gently to prevent them from sticking to each other, then boil briskly for 5-8m, or until tender. Taste to make sure. Drain the Spätzle thoroughly in a sieve or colander.

Makes ~ 4 cups.

Foods of the World: The Cooking of Germany, by Nika Standen Hazelton and the Editors of Time-Life Books. NY: Time Life, 1969.

I omitted the celery root, because I couldn't find any at either of the grocery stores I went to, and I didn't feel like driving all over town to track it down. Also, this was my first known encounter with beef marrow. Not bad.

For dessert, I made hazelnut macaroons. Macaroons are small, round cookies with a crunchy outside and soft inside. Traditionally made with ground almonds, sugar and egg whites, they are often flavored with coffee, chocolate, nuts or fruit. Originally from Venice, perhaps the use of hazelnuts instead of almonds makes these German in character. These are flavored with chocolate, and are fantastic.

Haselnussmakronen (Hazelnut Macaroons)

2 t. butter, softened
2 egg whites
¾ c. sugar
1 ½ c. shelled hazelnuts, preferably blanched, pulverized
6 T. unsweetened cocoa
2 t. finely grated lemon peel
Pinch salt
1 t. vanilla

With a pastry brush or paper towel, coat a large baking sheet with 2 t. of soft butter and sit it aside. In a large bowl, beat the egg whites with a wire whisk or electric beater until they foam and thicken slightly. Sprinkle the sugar over them and continue to beat until the whites form stiff, unwavering peaks on the beater when it is lifted out of the bowl. Combine the ground hazelnuts with next 4 in a small bowl, and whit a rubber spatula, gently but thoroughly fold the mixture into the whites, using an over-under cutting motion. To make the cookies, drop the dough by the tablespoon onto the prepared baking sheet, spacing them ~1” apart. Let the cookies rest at room temp for 1h before baking.

Preheat the oven to 300. Bake in the middle of the oven for 30m, or until firm. With a spatula, carefully transfer cookies to a rack to cool. Can be stored for several weeks in tightly sealed jars or tins.

Makes ~20 cookies.

Foods of the World: The Cooking of Germany, by Nika Standen Hazelton and the Editors of Time-Life Books. NY: Time Life, 1969.

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Woohoo Oktoberfest!
Last night we had another German meal. I won't go so far as to say that German is my favorite cuisine, but I am a big fan of meat and potatoes, especially when the weather is cold. Unfortunately, yesterday was quite warm. GC and I went for a scramble-hike along the Pinnacles. GC is an expert scrambler; I'm slower and more cautious, in part because that's my nature and in part because I was wearing shoes inappropriate for running up rocks covered in dead leaves. It was so windy that I got scared standing on top of the rock formations, so my hike was more like a crab-walk in parts. Anyway, we worked up a good appetite.

I made a meat dish (beef in spiced sour-cream sauce), a potato dish (potatoes with apples) and a dessert (lemon cream). All were pretty good, but the dessert was outstanding.

Würzfleisch (Beef in Spiced Sour-Cream Sauce)

4 T. flour
1 t. salt
½ t. pepper
2 # top round steak, sliced ½” thick and cut into 4 pieces
3 T. lard [I used butter-BA]
½ c. finely chopped onions
1 t. paprika
6 whole black peppercorns
3 whole allspice
½ small bay leaf
1 whole clove
2 c. water
1 c. sour cream
1 T. Madeira

In a mixing bowl, combine 3 T. flour with s/p. Dip in the pieces of beef 1x1; shake off excess (vigorously!). In a heavy 10-12” skillet, melt 2 T. of lard over high heat until a light haze forms above it. Add the beef and brown on both sides, regulating the heat so meat browns quickly and evenly without burning. Remove meat to a platter; add remaining tablespoon lard to the skillet. Drop in onions and cook over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, 5-8m, or until onions are soft and slightly brown. Add paprika, peppercorns, allspice, bay leaf and clove. Pour in the water and bring to a boil, meanwhile scraping into it any browned bits in the skillet.

Return the meat to the pan, reduce heat to low and cover tightly. Simmer 1 ½ -2h, basing occasionally. When beef can easily be pierced with the tip of a fork, transfer it to a plate and cover with foil to keep warm.

Strain the cooking liquid through a fine sieve into a small bowl, pressing down hard on the onions with the back of a spoon before discarding them. There should be 1 ½ - 2 c. of liquid in the bowl. If less, add canned or fresh beef stock; if more, boil the liquid briskly over high heat until reduced to 2c. Return the liquid to the skillet, bring to a simmer over high heat, then reduce heat to low.

With a whisk, beat the remaining tablespoon of flour into the sour cream. A few tablespoons at a time, beat the sour cream into the simmering liquid and cook, whisking constantly, until sauce is hot and slightly thickened. Don’t let it boil. Return the beef to the skillet; baste well with sauce and cook just long enough to heat it through. Sit in the Madeira and taste for seasoning. To serve, arrange the meat on a heated platter. Moisten the slices with a few tablespoons of sauce and serve the rest separately in a sauceboat. Traditionally, Würzfleisch is accompanied by dumplings or boiled or mashed potatoes.

Serves 4.
Foods of the World: The Cooking of Germany, by Nika Standen Hazelton and the Editors of Time-Life Books. NY: Time Life, 1969.

I halved the recipe, because we are but two, and I'm glad we didn't have any leftovers. It seems that I am not such a fan of boiled meat. It was kind of bland. The sauce was good, though.

Himmel und Erde (Potatoes with Apples)

1 T. sugar
2 t. salt
½ t. freshly ground black pepper
2 c. cold water
9 med boiling potatoes, ~3#, peeled and cut into 1” cubes
1# tart cooking apples, peeled, cored and quartered
½# lean bacon, cut into ¼” dice
2 med onions, peeled and sliced 1/8” thick and separated into rings
1 t. cider vinegar

In a heavy 12” skillet, combine sugar, 1 t. of salt and the pepper in 2 c. of water. Then drop in the potatoes and apples and bring the water to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to moderate and cover the skillet tightly. Simmer, undisturbed, until potatoes are tender but not falling apart.

Meanwhile, in an 8- to 10” skillet, cook the bacon over moderate heat until brown and crisp. With a slotted spoon, spread it out on a double thickness of paper towels to drain. Add the onions to the fat remaining in the skillet and cook over moderate heat, stirring frequently, for 8-10m, or until the rings are soft and light brown.

Just before serving, stir the remaining teaspoon of salt and the teaspoon of vinegar not the potatoes and apples; taste for seasoning. Then transfer the entire contents of the skillet to a heated bowl and serve topped with the onion rings and bacon.

Serves 8.
Foods of the World: The Cooking of Germany, by Nika Standen Hazelton and the Editors of Time-Life Books. NY: Time Life, 1969.

I also halved this recipe. I used a Rome apple, which is supposed to be pretty good for cooking, but it got really mushy. It was also sweeter than I'd like for this dish. I think with a different apple, one tarter and better suited for cooking, this recipe would be great.

Zitronencreme (Lemon-Cream Dessert)

1 envelope unflavored gelatin
¼ c. cold water
3 egg yolks
½ c. + 3 T. sugar
¼ c. fresh lemon juice
2 t. finely grate lemon peel
1 c. heavy cream
3 egg whites
1 lemon, cut lengthwise into halves and cut crosswise into paper-thin slices, optional
½ c. heavy cream, optional
1 t. icing sugar, optional

In a heatproof measuring cup or small bowl, sprinkle gelatin over ¼ c. cold water. When softened for 2-3m, set the cup in a small skillet of simmering water and stir until gelatin dissolves completely. Remove skillet from heat, but leave cup of gelatin in the skillet.

With a whisk or electric beater, beat egg yolks with ½ c. of sugar until yolks are pale yellow and thick enough to fall back in a ribbon when beater is lifted from bowl. Stir in the dissolved gelatin, lemon juice and peel. With the same whisk or beater, whip the cream in a large chilled bowl until firm enough to hold it shape softly. With a spatula, gently but thoroughly fold the cream into the lemon and egg mixture, using over-under cutting motion rather than a stirring motion.

Wash and dry the whisk or beater; in a separate bowl, use it to beat the egg whites until frothy. Sprinkle in the remaining 3 T. sugar and continue beating until egg whites are stiff enough to stand in unwavering peaks when whisk is lifted from bowl. Gently fold egg whites into lemon mixture and continue to fold until no trace of white can be seen in the mixture.

Spoon the lemon cream into six individual dessert dishes or into a large serving bowl. Cover tightly and refrigerate for 3h before serving.

If you like, you may garnish with lemon slices and whipped cream. Whip the cream with a wire whisk or beater until it holds its shape softly, sprinkle with icing sugar and beat until stiff. With a pastry bag fitted with a decorative tip, pipe rosettes or swirls of whipped cream on top of the dessert.

Serves 6.
Foods of the World: The Cooking of Germany, by Nika Standen Hazelton and the Editors of Time-Life Books. NY: Time Life, 1969.

This recipe was the star of the meal. Though it uses a lot of bowls, it has to be made so far in advance that you have plenty of time to clean up and put away all the bowls. Like a mousse, the texture of this lemon cream is really light and fluffy. The flavor is rather bright and acidic, making it a nice light end to a heavy meal of meat and potatoes. I'll definitely make this dessert again. I probably will make the potato and apple dish again, with some tweaks; it is unlikely that I'll make the meat dish again. Though good enough the first time around, I don't think it was special enough to make again.

Getting to Know All About You: What's your favorite beer? Or, if not a beer drinker, what's your drink of choice?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 02:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I can't make it to Oktoberfest, the annual 16-day festival in Munich, Germany, but I can devote this month's Wandering Gullet meals to German food. Though we were out of town last weekend, we had our share of German food in Rhode Island. GC and I went to the rather overpriced Newport Oktoberfest, where we ate brats, drank beer and listened to German polka music. We marveled briefly at the 65-foot grill capable of cooking 2500 brats in an hour, but the grill was set up next to the karaoke stage and the screechings of some drunk party girls chased us into the polka tent. The brats we sampled were good, but the best food came from the grill at the Brazilian food booth. There we got a sampler basket filled with grilled chicken and pork.

Back home, I decided to continue in the Oktoberfest tradition. We had our German meal last night, because the pork loin hadn't thawed in time for dinner on Sunday night. I made a pork loin braised with cabbage, bohnensalat (a green bean salad) and a ginger cake. The pork and the cake recipe included beer as ingredients; instead of being authentic and choosing German beers, I went with the more familiar Irish Guinness and Harp.

The pork entree was really good, and somehow spicy, even though there aren't any hot spices in the recipe. I halved the recipe, and even though it should have then served 4 people, GC and I ate it all. It's that good.

Pork Loin Braised with Cabbage

Pork is typically served with cabbage at the German table. Use red cabbage, if you like, for slightly sweeter flavor. You can prepare the dish a day ahead, and chill overnight. Cut the roast into 1/4-inch slices. Gently reheat the meat in cabbage mixture in a Dutch oven over medium-low heat.

4 teaspoons Hungarian sweet paprika, divided
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme, divided
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, divided
1 1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper, divided
1 teaspoon chopped fresh sage
1 (2-pound) boneless pork loin, trimmed
Cooking spray
3/4 cup diced Canadian bacon (about 4 ounces)
14 cups thinly sliced cabbage (about 2 pounds)
2 1/2 cups thinly sliced onion (about 2 medium)
3/4 cup thinly sliced carrot (about 1)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds
1 (12-ounce) bottle dark lager (I used Harp)

Preheat oven to 350°.

Combine 2 teaspoons paprika, 1 teaspoon thyme, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon pepper, and sage; rub over pork. Heat a large ovenproof Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Coat pan with cooking spray. Add pork to pan; cook 5 minutes, browning on all sides. Remove pork from pan.

Add bacon to pan; cook 3 minutes. Add cabbage, onion, and carrot. Cover, reduce heat to medium, and cook 15 minutes or until cabbage begins to wilt, stirring occasionally. Stir in tomato paste, remaining 2 teaspoons paprika, remaining 1 teaspoon thyme, remaining 1/2 teaspoon pepper, caraway seeds, and lager. Return pork to pan. Cover and bake at 350° for 2 hours or until tender. Sprinkle with remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt.

Yield: 8 servings (serving size: 3 ounces pork and 3/4 cup cabbage mixture)

CALORIES 255 (32% from fat); FAT 9g (sat 3.3g,mono 4g,poly 0.8g); PROTEIN 28.7g; CHOLESTEROL 76mg; CALCIUM 84mg; SODIUM 596mg; FIBER 3.7g; IRON 1.7mg; CARBOHYDRATE 11.9g

Cooking Light, OCTOBER 2006

The green bean salad was also pretty good, but not stellar. I didn't have any summer savory, so I omitted it. I also didn't chill for an hour before serving because I was too impatient.

Bohnensalat (Green Bean Salad)

3 T. red or white wine vinegar
3 T. olive oil
½ c. chicken stock
2 t. salt
Fresh pepper
1 t. finely chopped fresh dill
1 t. finely chopped parsley
1# fresh green beans
1 sprig fresh summer savory or ¼ t. dried summer savory

In a small bowl, combine first 3 with 1 t. of salt and few grindings of pepper; beat vigorously with a whisk to blend thoroughly. Stir in the dill and parsley; taste for seasoning. Cover and set aside.

Trim the ends off the beans; cut into 2” lengths. In a 3- to 4-qt saucepan, bring 2 qt water, remaining 1 t. salt and summer savory to a bubbling boil over high heat. Drop the beans in by the handful. Return the water to a boil, reduce the heat to moderate and boil beans, uncovered, 10-15m, or until tender but still slightly firm. Don’t overcook. Immediately, drain the beans and rinse in cold water. Spread on paper toweling and pat dry.

Transfer to a large mixing bowl and pour the dressing over them. Stir to coat well, taste for seasoning, and chill 1h before serving.

Serves 4.
Foods of the World: The Cooking of Germany, by Nika Standen Hazelton and the Editors of Time-Life Books. NY: Time Life, 1969.

And, finally, the cake. A ginger cake, this is pretty much a boozy gingerbread. I'm not sure how much the Guinness adds to the flavor; the cake is good, but not as good as some other (non-beer) gingerbreads I've made. I made it a day ahead; it does keep well.

Ginger Cake

To prepare this cake a day ahead, cool completely, wrap it with plastic wrap, and store at room temperature. Frost the cake with whipped topping just before serving.

Cooking spray
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (about 5 1/2 ounces)
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
4 1/2 tablespoons butter, softened
1 large egg
1/3 cup applesauce
1/4 cup molasses
1/3 cup flat Guinness stout
3/4 cup frozen reduced-calorie whipped topping (such as Cool Whip Lite), thawed

Preheat oven to 350°.

Coat a 9-inch round cake pan with cooking spray; line bottom of pan with wax paper. Coat wax paper with cooking spray; set aside.

Lightly spoon flour into dry measuring cups; level with a knife. Combine flour, ginger, cinnamon, baking soda, and salt in a bowl, stirring with a whisk.

Place brown sugar and butter in a large bowl, and beat with a mixer at medium-high speed until well blended (about 3 minutes). Add the egg, and beat well. Beat in the applesauce and molasses (batter may look slightly curdled). Reduce mixing speed to low. Add one-third of the flour mixture, and beat just until blended. Repeat procedure with remaining flour mixture. Add Guinness stout, and beat just until combined.

Scrape batter into prepared pan. Bake at 350° for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes; remove from pan. Cool completely. Spread cake with whipped topping. Cut into 8 wedges.

Yield: 8 servings (serving size: 1 wedge)

CALORIES 244 (30% from fat); FAT 8g (sat 5g,mono 1.9g,poly 0.4g); PROTEIN 3g; CHOLESTEROL 43mg; CALCIUM 43mg; SODIUM 295mg; FIBER 0.8g; IRON 2mg; CARBOHYDRATE 40.1g

Cooking Light, OCTOBER 2006

Of those three recipes, I'll definitely make the pork loin again, maybe make the green beans, but only if I'm looking for a German side dish, and, though the cake is good, probably will choose a different dessert or a better gingerbread. Fortunately, Oktoberfest lasts all month long at the Blue Artichoke home, so I'll try out some new German recipes in next weekend's installment of Wandering Gullet.

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 11:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Did you know that Missouri has a state dinosaur?

I saw it last weekend, wandering around Powell Gardens, just east of Kansas City. The Hadrosaur or "duck billed" dinosaur is one of the least fearsome of dinosaurs. Big, yes, but a herbivore with 1,000+ teeth to tear through tough vegetation. It wandered around Missouri 75 million years ago. I'm glad that our state legislators can find things to keep themselves busy. Designating official state dinosaurs, fossils, vertebrates, butterflies and the like are a great way to earn their salaries during the slow months.

Saturday was an ideal day for wandering around a botanical garden discovering dinosaurs. The temperature was in the low 80s and windy. There wasn't a whole lot in bloom, but even the dead and dying plants were really interesting. My favorite was a field of thick grasses with seed pods that rattled like maracas. I was tempted to bring home a few seed pods to plant in my yard, just to see what they look like alive; I refrained.

Saturday night I went to see Peter & the Wolf, aka Red Hunter, a guy GC and I have known for years. He plays shows here fairly often, always with a different line-up and usually with a new album to promote. He played in another friend's back yard; again, it was the perfect night for clearing aside the acorns and sitting on the ground with friends to listen to some good music. The host had made some chili, cornbread and apple pie. I skipped the chili and cornbread, but sampled the apple pie. I'm not usually a fan of apple pie, but this one was great. Maybe I'll have to try making one of my own sometime.

Sunday was spent doing massive amounts of laundry and helping GC inventory his clothes and organize his dresser and closet. I've been working on rearranging the basement, so we reconfigured and repositioned the weight bench for maximum utility. Once I get in the cleaning/organizing mode, I lose track of time, and so, as I too often do, started dinner late. When I gathered the ingredients for our Wandering Gullet meal, I discovered the chicken was still partially frozen. I put it in a pan of water in the sink for an hour, but that didn't fully thaw the thighs, so I defrosted them in the microwave. I love braising, mostly because I love the flavor and texture of braised meat, but also because the bulk of the preparation is at the beginning, so I'm free to clean up, then sit down on the couch, put my feet up and flip through a cooking magazine or watch some tv while dinner busily braises away on the stove top. I started so late, though, that we didn't sit down to eat until almost a quarter to nine. Dinner was really good, and would have been even better had I been able to start earlier and enjoy preparing it. By the time we ate, I was beyond starving.

Chicken Do-Piaza is a classical Indian curry dish. "Do" means double and "piaz" means onion; this dish is characterized by lots of onions, usually added in two stages. The first, in this recipe, is spicy curry-onion broth, which acts as the braising liquid; the second stage is thinly sliced onions added at the end, just long enough to lose their bite but retain some crunch. Though the recipe doesn't call for it, this would be good served over rice.

Chicken Do-Piaza, Indian-Spiced Chicken Smothered in Onions

All About Braising: The Art of Uncomplicated Cooking by Molly Stevens, 2004

1 c. plain whole-milk yogurt
2 large white or yellow onions, ~1#
½ c. freshly squeezed oj
¼ c. water
1 T. grated fresh ginger
3 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 t. coriander seeds, lightly toasted and ground
1 t. ground turmeric
¼ t. cayenne, or to taste, or 1 small dried red chile
Coarse salt
8 bone-in, skinless chicken thighs, ~3#
2 T. ghee, clarified butter or veggie oil

Draining the yogurt, 4-6h in advance: Set a small mesh sieve over a tall med bowl so that the bottom of the sieve sits at least 1 ½” above the bottom of the bowl. Line the strainer with cheesecloth or sturdy paper towels; pour the yogurt into the sieve. Set the assembly in the fridge to drain. After 4-6h, the yogurt will be the consistency of soft cheese and will have released ~ ¼ c. of liquid. Discard the liquid.

The onions and braising liquid: Thinly slice 1 onion, place the slices in a strainer or colander and rinse thoroughly with cold water. Set aside to drain over a bowl or in the sink. Coarsely chop the other onion and place it in a blender. Add the oj, next 6 and 1 t. salt. Blend on high until it becomes a smooth puree. You can also do this in a food processor. The texture of the sauce will be a bit coarser but the flavors will be the same.

Browning the chicken: Rinse the chicken pieces with cool water; dry thoroughly with paper towels. If not thoroughly dry, they won’t brown and may stick to the pan when you sear them. Season with salt. Heat the ghee in a heavy-based lidded skillet or shallow 4-qt braising pan over med-high heat. When the fat is almost shimmering, add the thighs in batches so as to not crowd the pan, and brown lightly on both sides, 6-8m total/batch. Transfer to a large plate to catch the drips. When all the chicken is browned, pour off all but about a tablespoon of fat from the pan. Because the chicken is skinless, there wont’ be many browned bits on the bottom of the pan, but there will be some, don’t pour these out with the fat.

Heating the braising liquid: Return the pot to med-high heat; gradually our in the onion-orange puree. Stand back, b/c it will sputter and splatter. Simmer 5m, scraping the bottom and stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon.

The braise: Add the chicken to the sauce, along with any juices that accumulated. Turn the pieces with tongs to coat with the sauce and return to a soft simmer. Cover tightly, reduce the heat to low and simmer gently. Check the pan after 10m to make sure that the simmer is quiet and not turbulent; turn down heat if necessary. After 20m, turn the chicken piece sand continue braising until the chicken is fork-tender, 40-45m total time.

Finish: Transfer the chicken pieces to a platter to catch any drips; cover loosely with foil to keep warm. Add the reserved onion slices to the pan and stir gently, working the onions evenly into the sauce. Replace the cover and set aside, off the heat undisturbed for 5m. This gives the raw onion slices just enough time to lose their bite while remaining crisp and mildly pungent.

Stir in the drained yogurt with a wooden spoon, working the thickened yogurt through the onions and sauce. Heat the sauce very gently over med heat until the yogurt is warmed through. Don’t let the sauce boil, or it will take on a curdled look. Taste for salt and cayenne. Return the chicken pieces to the pan, turning them to coat with the sauce and onions. Serve the chicken, spoon the onions and sauce over the top.

Serves 4.

Variation: Chicken Breasts Do-Piaza
Use bone-in skinless chicken breasts in place of the thighs. Braise for only 30-35m in step 5.

Variation: Chicken Do-Piaza with Undrained Yogurt or No Yogurt
Skip step 1 and use undrained yogurt. The sauce will be a bit thinner in taste and texture. It is also good without any yogurt at all, but it will be less creamy and rich.

Wine Notes: Fruity white that’s off-dry to slightly sweet without any oak flavors, such as Chenin Blanc from CA or WA, or a slightly sweet Riesling from Germany.

Getting to Know All About You: What's your favorite dinosaur?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 05:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

What? Two Wandering Gullets in a row? In matters of taste, there is no dispute. In matters of the gullet, there is no restraint. Sometimes the gullet wanders far, sometimes near, and sometimes off-schedule.

Recent rains brought cool weather, cool enough to celebrate by turning on the oven! Wednesday nights are my Muay Thai classes, so dinner has to be something I can prepare ahead of class or fix quickly when I get home. Wednesday nights are also when my healthy-eating plan usually gets derailed. Last night, for example, we had Ohio Spaghetti, a baked spaghetti dish. I precooked the spaghetti, browned the ground beef, cooked the bacon and prepared the sauce, mixed everything together and dumped it into a casserole dish that went into the fridge until after class. When I got home, I preheated the oven while I showered, then baked the spaghetti while I sat down and relaxed after an hour of kicking, punching and abdominal circuits. For such an easy dish, it was pretty good. My only complaint is the sauce. Cans of tomato soup mixed with water are too bland for this casserole. Next time, I'll substitute a jar of spaghetti sauce or homemade sauce; it will do wonders for the dish.

Ohio Spaghetti

Saint Louis Taste of the Town, Junior League of St. Louis to benefit the Women’s Self-Help Center, 1986

I halved the recipe, and was able to mix everything in the same 12" skillet I used to cook the bacon, onions and mushrooms and brown the beef. If making the full recipe, you'll have to mix the ingredients in a rather large bowl. The bacon adds a rich, smoky flavor. Also, I used tomato-basil flavored thin linguine; regular spaghetti would be fine, I just didn't have any on hand. As I said above, don't use the canned tomato soup; it's bland. Instead use some homemade or jarred spaghetti sauce. It will make all the difference in the world.

2# ground round beef
6 slices cooked bacon, crumbled, + reserved grease
2 c. sliced mushrooms, optional
4 med onions, finely chopped
4-5 cans Campbell’s tomato soup
1-½ -2 c. water
2 bay leaves
1 large pkg spaghetti, [easier if broken into thirds before cooking]

Sauté onions in bacon grease until soft; add mushrooms and sauté lightly. Remove veggies from grease and set aside. Stir and sauté beef in bacon grease until browned; drain of grease.

Cook spaghetti in boiling water 10 minutes and drain.

Combine all, mix well; place in large casserole, cover and bake at 350 for 30 minutes.

Serves 8.

Getting to Know All About You: Do you use your microwave to cook (more than just reheating leftovers)?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 08:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I've never been curious about Korean food, never had the hankerin' for kimchi and probably would never go out of my way to track down a Korean restaurant. Maybe it just seems too foreign, or maybe I've heard too many jokes about being served dog. I haven't amassed a bevy of Korean recipes in my collection, so I had to go looking for a recipe. My first stop was the international cookbook I mentioned previously. There were several, and none showcased dog as the main ingredient. I picked Bul-Ko-Kee (aka Bul-Go-Gee), a basic Korean food. It was a good introduction to Korean food, because I liked it very much. Not only was it super simple and fast, but it had familiar flavors and was easy to eat.

Bul-Ko-Kee

International Cooking: Recipes from the International Women of Riyadh Saudi Arabia

1 ½ kilo beef, sliced very thin, 1” long (1 kilo - 2.2#)
½ c. soy sauce
2 T. sesame oil
1 t. sesame seed
4 T. sugar
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 green onions, sliced
1 onion, sliced
2 carrots, sliced
¼ t. pepper

Place ingredients in med-sized mixing bowl. Mix thoroughly. Place in refrigerator and allow to marinate 4 hours to overnight.

When ready to cook, place in frying pan and cook at medium heat until meat has reached desired doneness. When meat is done, the other ingredients are also done.

Serve on a plate along with rice.

Serves 4.

I used a 3/4" thick 1-1/2# steak, essentially halving the meat amount, but left the rest of the ingredients the same. The mixture was a bit saucy, but the rice soaked up the liquid. Perfect! I used baby carrots, quartered lengthwise, and an onion cut in thick slices.

I also made a dessert called Sal-Bak-Song, which is pretty much Rice Krispies balls, except that my liquid mixture wasn't enough to make the cereal sticky enough to form into a ball. This was really messy to make; I'm still finding Rice Krispies stuck to various surfaces in my kitchen. I went out this morning to buy a bag of mini marshmallows to try to salvage the dessert by making it into Rice Krispies treats.

Sal-Bak-Song (Rice Cookie)

International Cooking: Recipes from the International Women of Riyadh Saudi Arabia

1 box rice crispies cereal
½ c. honey
1 c. sugar
¼ c. water
1 c. Spanish peanuts

Combine sugar and water; heat until sugar melts. Allow to stand until slightly cooled, then mix all other ingredients into the sugar water.

Roll mixture into balls and let cool.

Despite the textural difficulties of the dessert, it tasted fine. Both of these dishes make me more inclined to try Korean food again, though I don't know that I'm ready for kimchi. Fermented cabbage? Ugh.

Getting to Know All About You: How often do you eat dessert?

Update: I tried to look up information on the bul-ko-kee before I wrote the post, but because of the odd spelling of my recipe, I couldn't find anything. With the more traditional spelling, bulgogi (offered in the comments by Red Meat), I've been able to find out more information. For starters, it means "fire meat" in Korean and is the stuff of Korean barbecue, considered by foreigners to be the national dish of Korea. It is traditionally grilled, but broiling and pan-cooking are also common. Garlic, onions and green peppers are often cooked alongside the meat, then served together with lettuce and other side dishes. No mention of a fried egg, though kimchi is often a common accompaniment.

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 11:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

If this is any indication, Iranian food is awesome, but designed for people with nothing better to do than sit around boiling and peeling nuts all day. Not a cuisine for people who do things like work or attend baby showers. I found the recipe in a book my mom bought when we lived in Saudi Arabia. It's called International Cooking: Recipes from the International Women of Riyadh Saudi Arabia, and you can only buy it here. These are the first recipes I've tried, but I'm sure you'll be seeing more from the book in future Wandering Gullet entries. There don't seem to be any serving sizes indicated in the recipes, so I made a whole mess o' Iranian food. I should have been tipped off by the ingredient amounts listed in kilos (2.2# for you Americans). I used my brain, kitchen scale and estimating prowess, but not my note-taking abilities (my librarian grandmother would be ashamed), so I can't share with you an exact replica of my meal. But I can set you loose on the recipes I started from. Recipes are mere suggestions, anyway.

Shireen Polow (Iran)

International Cooking: Recipes from the International Women of Riyadh Saudi Arabia
I used an assortment of chicken parts in my freezer: two thighs, two drumsticks, two boneless, skinless breasts and one mystery cut. Altogether, they weighed ~2 1/2#. Though the recipe doesn't say it, if you choose to use a 2-3# chicken, it will be much easier to cook, serve and eat if you cut it into pieces first. I forgot to slice the almonds, but after cooking them, they didn't really need it. Also, I don't know why the recipe calls for almonds and pistachios; after cooking, they sort of lose their flavor and really just provide texture. You could just use one nut (almonds are cheaper). This recipe is very time-consuming and produces lots of dirty dishes. The end result is worth it, but maybe only for special occasions or when you want to make some Iranians nostalgic for home. Or when you want to combine dinner with dessert; this dish is very sweet.

150 g. shelled almonds
150 g. shelled pistachio nuts
Peel of 3 oranges (remove all white)
½ kilo carrots
300 g. sugar
2-3# chicken or chicken breasts
10 g. saffron
300 g. cooking oil
2 T. butter
1 kilo rice, long grain
S/p, as desired
2 t. cinnamon

Put almonds and pistachio nuts in enough boiling water to cover and cook for 5m. Drain, remove skins, slice almonds and set aside. Put orange peel in a pan of boiling water and simmer 5m. Drain and repeat procedure. Simmer for 10m; then drain. Peel carrots and slice julienne style. Mix orange peel, carrots and nuts with ½ c. water; add sugar and boil 3 minutes.

Cook chicken in large vessel with enough water to cover chicken and add s/p. When chicken is approximately half cooked, dissolve ½ of the saffron in a small amount of hot water and pour the solution over the chicken. Then set aside.

Cook and drain the rice. In a deep saucepan pour in oil, a layer of the orange peel mixture, then add a layer of chicken pieces and sprinkle with cinnamon. Repeat the layers until all of the ingredients are used. Then place pot on low heat to steam cook. After approximately 40 minutes, mix the remaining saffron (dissolved in hot water as before) with the butter (melted) and pour the mixture over the rice. Serve hot.

Borani Spinach (Iran)

International Cooking: Recipes from the International Women of Riyadh Saudi Arabia
GC liked this dish a lot; me, not so much. I think it might have been too much of a contrast with the sweet chicken dish; it confused and bewildered my taste buds. It was very garlicky (I used 2 cloves) and almost astringent. I used a few fistfuls of spinach and only ~2 T of yogurt, just enough to pull it together. This would pair better with a savory dish.

1 kilo spinach, washed well or 2 (10 oz.) pkg of chopped, frozen spinach
3 sprigs celery leaves, chopped or 2 T. dried celery leaves
½ L yogurt
S/p as desired
1 clove garlic, chopped

Chop spinach and celery; cook with garlic until tender, if necessary add 1 T. of water to prevent sticking to the pan. Make certain all water has evaporated. Then mix with yogurt. Add s/p. Chill in refrigerator and serve.

Almond Cookies (Iran)

International Cooking: Recipes from the International Women of Riyadh Saudi Arabia
I planned to make these for dessert, but didn't have time.

250 g. flour
200 g. butter
200 g. blanched, peeled and chopped almonds
2 egg yolks
100 g. icing sugar
1 small pkg vanilla
¼ t. salt (if using unsalted butter)

Mix all until you have a soft dough. Let rest in fridge, then roll out and shape in your favorite mold – horseshoe, star, diamond, etc. (bite-size). Place on cookie tray. Warm oven to 400F and place in oven to 10-14m depending on thickness or until they turn light brown. While warm, sprinkle a little icing sugar mixed with a little vanilla powder.

Getting to Know All About You: What Snackdown do you want to see next?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 12:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Back on track here at the Blue Artichoke HQ. I returned from my trip back east just in time to get sick with GC. We moped around the house, popping pills and tossing tissues, from Wednesday through Saturday. We thought we were better on Saturday, until a trip to the farmer's market used up all our energy and tuckered us out for the rest of the day. Sunday we were much improved, and took in a round of disc golf to get us outside and moving in the fresh air. I felt well enough to cook (and eat!), so we wandered to China for some Kung Pao Pork.

Kung Pao is a Sichuan dish named after Ding Baozhen (1820–1886), who served as governor of Sichuan province under the title Gōng Bǎo ("palatial guardian"). The name "Kung Pao" is derived from this title. Usually made with chicken, Kung Pao's characteristic heat comes from Sichuan peppercorns and dried red chiles, which are flash fried in hot oil, then removed before the meat and vegetables are added to the now-fragrant hot oil. This dish follows the traditional method, but omits the peppercorns and adds the blackened chiles back at the end of cooking. Kung Pao recipes also traditionally include roasted peanuts or cashews, originally raw nuts roasted in the hot oil before adding the rest of the vegetables. Nuts are still included in the Westernized version, but usually are preroasted and tossed in at the last minute.

This dish was easy and quick to make, but I think I used the wrong kind of chiles because the meal was actually sort of bland. Often I can't order Kung Pao from Chinese restaurants because I'm a spice-wimp, so I thought I'd give it a whirl at home where I can control the heat. I used 3 giant dried chiles in place of the 8 small ones called for in the recipe. Maybe with the proper chiles, you'll have better luck.

Kung Pao Pork

Dried whole red chiles are often packaged in small jars and sold in the spice section of the supermarket.

1 tablespoon sugar
3 tablespoons water
3 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
2 tablespoons dry sherry
1 tablespoon white vinegar
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 1/2 teaspoons dark sesame oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 pound pork tenderloin
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 tablespoon low-sodium soy sauce
1 tablespoon vegetable oil, divided
8 dried whole red chiles
2 cups coarsely chopped green bell pepper
3/4 cup vertically sliced onion
1 teaspoon minced peeled gingerroot
1/2 cup unsalted dry roasted peanuts
6 cups hot cooked rice

Combine first 8 ingredients in a small bowl; stir until well-blended. Set aside.

Trim fat from pork. Cut pork into 1-inch cubes. Combine pork, 1 tablespoon cornstarch, and 1 tablespoon soy sauce in a bowl; stir well. Cover and marinate in refrigerator 15 minutes.

Heat 1 teaspoon vegetable oil in a wok or large nonstick skillet over high heat. Add chiles; stir-fry 1 minute or until blackened. Remove from pan with a slotted spoon; set aside. Add remaining oil and pork mixture to pan; stir-fry 2 minutes. Add bell pepper, onion, and gingerroot; stir-fry 1 minute or until vegetables are crisp-tender. Add sherry mixture; stir-fry 1 minute or until thick and bubbly. Remove from heat; stir in chiles and peanuts. Serve over rice.

Yield: 6 servings (serving size: 3/4 cup pork mixture and 1 cup rice)

CALORIES 449 (23% from fat); FAT 11.7g (sat 2.1g,mono 4.9g,poly 3.8g); PROTEIN 23.8g; CHOLESTEROL 49mg; CALCIUM 45mg; SODIUM 398mg; FIBER 3.3g; IRON 3.7mg; CARBOHYDRATE 60.4g

Cooking Light, MAY 1996

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 09:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Favored in the Middle East, particularly in Turkey; Imam Bayildi translates literally to “the priest fainted.” There are several interpretations to the name. Some say that the Imam fainted from sheer gastronomical delight when presented with this dish. Others maintain he loved the dish so that he fainted when he was refused the dish. Another line is that he fell flat on the floor when he realized how much olive oil was used in the dish and how much it cost. The Greeks have eaten this dish for hundreds of years, using the Turkish name. Why? Because the Greeks maintained that the Imam tasted the dish in Greece, and fainted there!

GC and I ate this dish without fainting, although the bits of torn-up bay leaves did pose a choking hazard. I'd recommend leaving the bay leaves whole and removing before serving. This dish is OK. I like it because it looks nice, uses lots of healthy summer vegetables and is pretty much left alone to cook, once assembled. I omitted the currants because I couldn't easily find any.

Imam Bayildi (Eggplant Turkish Style)

4 med ripe tomatoes
3 med eggplants, ~1# each
2 T. salt for draining
2 T. olive oil
4 garlic cloves, crushed
3 med yellow onions, peeled and sliced
¼ c. chopped parsley
¼ c. dried currants, optional, but delicious
S/p, to taste
½ c. olive oil
½ t. whole thyme
2 bay leaves, crumbled
1 t. sugar
Juice of 1 lemon

Dice tomatoes; drain in colander for 1 hour. Discard the juice.

Choose long and narrow eggplants, if possible. Cut off the stems and cut the plant in half, the long way. Using a vegetable peeler, remove 3 long pieces of the peel, each ~1” wide, the long way. Move the peeler back and forth. This will help moisture flow out of the eggplant. Using a large metal spoon, scoop out a bit of the eggplant, leaving a boat with thick sides and bottom. Coarsely chop the scrapings and reserve.

Sprinkle the salt equally on each boat and set on a rack to drain, skin side up, for 45 minutes. In the meantime, prepare the filling.

Heat a large frying pan and add the 2 T. olive oil and garlic. Sauté for a moment and add the onions and chopped pulp from the eggplant. Sauté until onions are transparent, but not discolored. Remove from heat. Place the onions, garlic, eggplant scrapings, tomatoes, parsley and currants in a bowl. Mix gently. Add s/p to taste.

Wipe out the eggplant boats with paper towels. Fill each with an equal amount of the filling and place in an ovenproof casserole just big enough to take them comfortably. [I used a heavy 12" skillet with a lid.] Mix the ½ c. olive oil with ½ c. water, thyme, bay leaves, sugar and lemon juice. Pour 2 T. of this mixture on the top of each boat and pour rest in bottom of pan. Bring to a simmer, cover and simmer until eggplants are quite soft, ~1 hour and 15 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool with the lid on. Serve cold or at room temp.

Great as a veggie meal or as an appetizer.

Serves 6 as a meal, more as an app.
The Frugal Gourmet Cooks with Wine, Jeff Smith, 1984

We had a wonderful windstorm last night, with gusts as fast as 60 mph in some places (not here). It blew down my neighbor's tree and knocked down lots of tree limbs and branches. I rushed outside to see what was going on and saw my potted plants flying across the porch. I hurried to bring them in (only 2 broke!), and to tell GC that it was really scary outside, come see! Our across-the-street neighbors were watching from their porch; we all convened in the street to watch the lightening and listen to the cracking of tree branches. One branch hit my neighbor in the face, cutting him in an almost Harry Potter lightening-bolt on the forehead. We were all jealous of his injury. The wind eventually died down and we went inside, to snuggle in our warm bed in our cool bedroom, safe from flying tree limbs.

Getting to Know All About You: Do you have any neat scars?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I've been curious to try out this recipe for a while, but had been unable to find tamarind puree. Tamarind is a tropical tree native to east Africa but prolific throughout Asia, Australia, Latin America and the Caribbean. It produces a seed pod full of fruit pulp and hard seeds; it is the pulp that is used in cooking, and as a spice ingredient in Worcestershire sauce and Jamaican Pickapeppa sauce. It is most often used in Indian cooking, and can be found in Indian grocery stores. Or, in my case, the local international foods grocery store.

Dried tamarind

I first tasted tamarind in the form of a powdered juice packet, bought in Mexico along with other "exotic" fruit juice flavors such as guava, hibiscus, coconut, mango and peach. All the juice flavors tasted similar, though, rather like watermelon (except the coconut, which tasted like cinnamon milk), so I really had no idea what tamarind tasted like going in to this recipe. As it turns out, it tastes sweet-tart, and is difficult to describe. Here's the recipe:

Picadillo Con Carne de Res (Potato-and-Beef Hash)

2 pounds small red potatoes, cubed
1/2 pound ground round
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped green bell pepper
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup Tamarind Purée
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
Tangy Tamarind Sauce

Place the potato cubes in a Dutch oven; add water to cover, and bring to a boil. Cook for 8 minutes or until tender. Drain and set potato cubes aside.

Cook meat, onion, bell pepper, and garlic in pan over medium heat until browned, stirring to crumble. Stir in potato cubes, Tamarind Purée, chopped cilantro, cumin, salt, and pepper. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 5 minutes or until thoroughly heated, stirring occasionally. Serve with Tangy Tamarind Sauce.
Yield: 6 servings (serving size: 1 cup)

CALORIES 230 (27% from fat); FAT 6.9g (sat 2.7g,mono 2.9g,poly 0.4g); PROTEIN 11.3g; CHOLESTEROL 26mg; CALCIUM 44mg; SODIUM 236mg; FIBER 4g; IRON 3.6mg; CARBOHYDRATE 31.8g

Cooking Light, APRIL 1995

Tamarind Purée

1 (8-ounce) package wet tamarind pulp
2 cups hot water

Combine tamarind and hot water. Let stand 1 hour; then using your fingers or a fork, break tamarind into small pieces while it is still in the water. Let tamarind soak an additional 3 hours.
Press tamarind mixture through a sieve, reserving liquid; discard seeds and fibers.
Yield: 1 1/2 cups

Cooking Light, APRIL 1995

Tangy Tamarind Sauce
Serve this sauce with Gallo Pinto (rice & beans), grilled meats, chicken, or fish, or use it as a marinade.

1/2 cup Tamarind Purée
6 tablespoons water
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1 large jalapeño pepper, halved and seeded
1 garlic clove

Combine all ingredients in a blender, and process until smooth.

Yield: 1 cup (serving size: 1 tablespoon)

CALORIES 5 (0.0% from fat); FAT 0.0g (sat 0.0g,mono 0.0g,poly 0.0g); PROTEIN 0.1g; CHOLESTEROL 0.0mg; CALCIUM 3mg; SODIUM 74mg; FIBER 0.1g; IRON 0.1mg; CARBOHYDRATE 1.1g

Cooking Light, APRIL 1995

The meal was good, but rather potato-heavy. I used slightly less than 2# potatoes, in a mix of red, yellow and purple. I halved or quartered them, but should have cubed them smaller to mix in better. I also used a whole pound of extra-lean ground beef because 1/2# seemed rather paltry with all those potatoes. It was better with the Tangy Tamarind Sauce. I probably won't make this recipe again. It was good, and interesting, and a nice introduction to tamarind, but I just wasn't wild about it. I do have 1/2# of tamarind puree left over, so I'll try to find a good use for that soon.

By the way, did you notice the tamarind picture? That's the very first picture I've put on my blog, because I've been too lazy to learn how. It's much easier than I anticipated. Look forward to seeing more.
30 New Things #11: Learned to post pictures on my blog.

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 02:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Despite the forecast of thunderstorms, I chanced a meal prepared on the grill. I'm such a daring risk-taker. I grilled tandoori-style chicken and mangoes. I've never really branched out into grilling fruit, but my curiosity was piqued by Bon Appetit's July cover recipe (from a Top Chef contestant) that included grilled cantaloupe. Hmmm... I like grilled plantains, though I've always grilled them on a grill pan on the inside stove. But cantaloupe? Interesting. I'll try it someday, but I kicked off my grilled fruit adventure with mangoes. They're really good, but get a little chewy if you let them char too much. The chicken was good, but kind of dry. I've yet to decipher juicy, yet fully cooked, grilled chicken. This month's Cook's Illustrated has an article about grilled chicken, so hopefully my next attempt will yield better results. The chicken was really good, mind you, just a bit dry. And the thunderstorm? Never happened.

Grilled Tandoori-Style Chicken And Mangoes With Mango Jasmine Rice

Mangoes are used two ways in this Indian dish — grilled with the chicken and tossed into rice.

1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
4 garlic cloves
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon sweet paprika
1 tablespoon coarse kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

2 (2 1/2-pound) chickens, quartered

2 large ripe mangoes, peeled; 1 cut into 1/2-inch-thick slices, 1 cut into 1/2-inch cubes

2 cups jasmine rice
3 cups water
1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted

6 fresh cilantro sprigs

Purée first 7 ingredients in processor. With machine running, gradually add oil through feed tube and process until blended. Transfer 1/4 cup herb mixture to small bowl; reserve. Add yogurt and lemon juice to remaining mixture in processor and blend.

Place chicken in 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Pour yogurt mixture over chicken; turn to coat. Cover and refrigerate 1 hour.

Prepare barbecue (medium heat). Place chicken, skin side down, on grill. Cover and grill until chicken is cooked through, turning every 5 minutes, about 30 minutes total. Grill mango slices 2 minutes per side; set aside. Meanwhile, combine rice, 3 cups water, and reserved 1/4 cup herb mixture. Bring to boil. Reduce heat to low; cover and simmer until tender, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat; let stand, covered, 5 minutes. Fold in mango cubes and pine nuts.

Arrange chicken on large platter; garnish with grilled mango slices and cilantro sprigs. Serve mango jasmine rice alongside.

Makes 8 servings.

Bon Appétit
May 2007

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 02:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I had a great weekend, culinarily and otherwise. First, there was no Sunday Muffin post, not because I didn't make muffins, but because they weren't good enough to share the recipe. I made banana-blueberry muffins in my little toaster oven to avoid heating up the house. I had to make them in batches, but they baked up just fine, except that the banana flavor was missing and they weren't great as just a blueberry muffin. So, no recipe.

Saturday night I made a Gentleman Caller's Request dinner to celebrate his birthday from earlier in the month. He chose my Pork Adobo tacos and his mama's Chess Pie. Both were excellent, as usual, and I'm polishing off the last piece of pie right now for breakfast. Sweet! After dinner we went to watch some amateur mixed martial arts cage fights, which were awesome.

But on to the best meal of the weekend, the Wandering Gullet: Philippines. This is a recipe that I actually wasn't really excited about because I couldn't imagine how it would turn out. I've had it in the roster for several weeks, though, but it kept getting pushed aside for other, perhaps more exciting, countries. Finally, though, I had all the fixins and the entire afternoon at home, free to spend in the kitchen. Though the recipe takes a long time to make, it doesn't actually require a whole lot of time in the kitchen. Just time near the kitchen, like, say, on the hammock in the back yard with a good book. The recipe uses chicken and pork, but GC and I both agree that the pork is far and away superior to the chicken, which is still very good. But the pork is awesome. The next time I make this (and there will definitely be a next time), I'll use only pork.

Chicken & Pork Adobado

Philippine-Style Braised Chicken and Pork

All About Braising: The Art of Uncomplicated Cooking by Molly Stevens, 2004

6 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
½ c. white wine vinegar
½ c. water
2 T. soy sauce (not “lite”) -I used low sodium
2 t. grated lime zest
2 bay leaves, each torn in half
2 t. brown sugar
½ t. coarse salt
½ t. cracked black pepper
6 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs, ~2 ¼# total
1 ½# boneless country-style pork ribs -I cut each rib into thirds for easier handling
2 T. peanut oil
Tomato relish, optional* -Relish is wholly unnecessary. Don't bother.

Prepare the marinade, 1-2 hours in advance: In a gallon bag, combine first 9. Zip bag and shake to dissolve sugar and combine all ingredients. Rinse the chicken thighs and pork ribs; dry thoroughly with paper towels. Add the meats to the marinade in the bag, turning to coat; set aside to marinate 1 hour, turning every 20 minutes. If your kitchen is hotter than 75°, marinate in the fridge for 2 hours.

The braise: Transfer the chicken and pork, along with all the seasonings and liquid, to a large lidded skillet or other shallow braising pan (12-13” skillet or 4 ½-qt capacity). Put the pan over med-high heat and, as soon as bubbles appear, lower the heat to a quiet simmer and cover tightly. Every 10-15 minutes, get off of the hammock and return to the kitchen to lift the lid and turn the meat so that they braise evenly. Continue to braise at a gently simmer until the chicken and pork are tender and the meat pulls easily away from the bone, 45-50 minutes total. If at any time the liquid is simmering too aggressively, lower the heat or set a heat diffuser beneath the pan.

The sauce: Using tongs, transfer the meat to a shallow platter to catch the juices. Skim the surface fat from the braising liquid and bring to a boil over med-high heat. Boil the sauce until reduced by ~2/3 to the consistency of a thin syrup, 12-15 minutes. If you happen to have your back to the oven and let the sauce reduce a bit too much, add a tablespoon or so of water to bring it back to the desired consistency. Taste. It should be quite sharp and lively. Remove the bay leaves if desired. Keep the sauce warm over low heat.

Meanwhile, brown the meat: Heat the oil in a large sauté pan, preferably nonstick, over med-high heat. Pat the chicken and pork thoroughly dry with paper towels. When the oil is shimmering, add as many pieces (skin side down) as will fit without crowding; fry until they acquire a crisp, lacquered crust, ~3 minutes/side. The meat will splatter quiet a bit as it fries; if you own a splatter screen, this is a good time to use it. Transfer to the same large plat and repeat with the remaining pieces of chicken and pork.

Finish: Slip the browned meat into the sauce and add any accumulated juices. Turn each piece of meat to coat with sauce; heat through over med-high heat. Serve over rice and spoon the sauce on top. Pass the relish, if using, at the table.

Serves 6

Wine Notes: Lightly and fruity red without too much tannin, such as a lighter-style Shiraz (Syrah) or Shiraz-Grenache blends from Australia; or lighter easy-drinking Zinfandels from CA

Tomato Relish

¾ c. finely chopped white onion
2 ripe tomatoes, ~1#, cored and chopped into ¼” dice
1/3 c. loosely packed chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
1 T. fresh squeezed lime juice, plus more as needed
Coarse salt

Put the onion in a strainer and rinse well with cold water. Transfer to the center of a clean dishtowel. Bring up the edges and squeeze the onion to eliminate as much moisture as you can.

Place the onion in a med bowl. Add the rest and stir to combine. Season with salt. Taste and add additional lime juice or salt as needed.

Serves 6.

The tomato relish is unnecessary, and perhaps a bit of a detractor. I wouldn't bother with it. This recipe does create an awful lot of dirty dishes, which isn't such a problem for those civilized folks with a dishwasher, but for those whose dear husband is the dishwasher, it seemed a mountain. But worth it. This recipe is going into my Top 5.

Getting to Know All About You: How was your weekend?

Posted by Blue Artichoke at 09:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)