A Love Letter

Dear Nopa,

Hi. So, it's been just over a week since we last met, and I'm still thinking about you. In fact, I think about you almost daily. I realize that we've only had our one date, but I really think we (well, you) have something special.

I knew that our relationship was off to a good start when I called and made reservations a couple of weeks before our date. Your hostess was incredibly nice when we spoke on the phone--I didn't get that "oh, you're not from around here" attitude that you sometimes get from fancy restaurants when they realize you have a non-local phone number and are not famous/powerful/a restaurant critic. She even said she'd do what she could to get us in at the Chef's Table--four seats right there in front of the kitchen, in the middle of the action.

When D and I arrived for our date, Nopa, it was immediately clear that you were the coolest kid on the block; your suitors were literally coming out the door. Never mind that, however, when I told your hostess we were there--a good half hour early--she seemed thrilled to see us, confirmed our request for the Chef's Table and told us that she could probably get us in sooner than our actual reserved time.

At your long, shiny bar, we admired your extensive collection of micro-distilled liquors, homemade bitters, and three bartenders, all making their drinks with a dedication and passion normally only seen in NFL Fantasy Football fans. Your bar area was packed with admirers, all enthusing over your handcrafted cocktails, yet the Brown Label Shrub that I ordered came back quickly and perfectly--a tart, tangy, pear flavored aperitif served in a champagne flute. Just as D and I finished our first cocktails, your smiling hostess appeared, indicating that not only was our table ready 10 minutes early, but we DID have seats at the Chef's Table...our first date was going even better than expected!

Sitting down at the glass fronted bar seats that overlooked a calm, efficient kitchen, we perused your menu, almost every ingredient sourced from the San Fransisco Bay area...the famous pork chop, about which we had heard nothing but rave reviews; a home made tagliatelle pasta; the burger, made with grass fed, locally raised meat; and a roast chicken, that we watched turn golden on the giant rotisserie directly in front of us.

D and I were seated directly to the right of your expo station, where, we eventually discovered, your chef was finalizing each plate as it came out of the kitchen. He offered us an amuse bouche of an almond butter and persimmon spread crostini lightly sprinkled with Maldon sea salt...Sweet, creamy, and salty in one delightful bite...are you always this generous on your first date? We chatted with your chef, Lawrence, who while keeping a close eye on everything going on in front of him, still made us feel welcome, like we were regulars that he had known for years. We started with your flatbread, I picked the tagliatelle with homemade fennel sausage. We had discussed trying the gigante beans with tomato and feta, but feared it would be too much. Much too our surprise and delight, what appeared just before our flatbread appetizer but a complementary dish of those same beans. "On the house," was all your chef said with a smile. Oh, Nopa...you flirt, you!

By the time our entrees arrived, you had me completely under your spell, and with that first bite of tender, creamy pasta and spicy sausage, I vowed that our first date would not be our last. A bite of your pork chop--two and a half inches thick, barely pink in the middle, and melt-in-your-mouth delicious, and I was ready to devote myself to you. Could I sweep your floors? Scrub your potatoes? Cut your lemons for the bar?

My only regret is that we had to part ways, and I don't know when I'll see you next. They say that long distance relationships do not always work out, but I'm still dreaming of those creamy, tomato-y beans with their crust of toasted breadcrumbs, and I know that we'll beat the odds and see each other again soon.

In the meantime, I wish you all the best, and remain,

Your Ham Sandwich

Quice, Pears, and Jam-o-rama

What you are seeing above, my friends, is a quince turnover that I made this weekend. Quince! How exciting! I've never used/bought/tried a quince before! For the unitiated, a whole quince is pictured below:

They're a strange little fruit that's described as a cross between a pear and an apple. This might be true, with the exception that they are hard as rocks and must be cooked down before you can do anything with them. Taste wise, they're a little more tart than a pear or an apple--really delicious and really interesting.

I was able to enjoy this quince thanks to Jaime at Wayward Seed Farm. When I picked up my share this past weekend, we got to talking about the end of the season (sob!) and what to expect for our last week. One thing led to another and she offered me one of the quince (quinces?) that she had recieved from a friend. (Thanks again, Jaime!!!) After taking the quince home and contemplating it for a few days, I decided what I would do--one quince isn't really enough for jam or jelly, and I wanted to do something that would really let me taste the fruit. With a sheet of frozen puff pastry in the freezer, the game plan fell into place: turnovers.

A brief sidebar here--frozen puff pastry is awesome, and I can't really ever picture a need to make it from scratch. Seriously, Pepperidge Farm does such a great job making it themselves, why go through all the hassle yourself?

Prepping the quince was fairly easy (I say fairly because they are extremely hard to cut--apparently quince related finger injuries are not uncommon)--I peeled, cored, and chopped it into pieces then threw them into a sauce pan with about 1/4 c. of sugar and one-third of a vanilla bean. I let it simmer down for about 10 minutes, to the point where there was hardly any liquid left and the quince was the consistency of apple pie filling.
While that was going on, I preheated the oven to 400, defrosted the puff pastry, rolled it out so that it was about 12" square, and cut circles out that were about five inches or so in diameter (I used a small bowl). Then, I just spooned the quince filling (remove the vanilla bean!) onto the circles, and sealed them using an egg wash (you can see it in the picture above). Fold, press, seal, and into the oven they went for about 15 minutes....Et voila!
******
Pear-stravaganza!

This past weekend, I also stopped over at the Ham Sandwich parental homestead. While there, I was informed that the neighbor's pear tree was inundated with pears, and we were encouraged to go pick some:So we did, probably 30 or so pounds worth:

I hope everyone likes canned pears for Christmas!

******
Finally, capping off a rather fruit-filled weekend, I made a couple jars each of apricot and pear jam.
Most of my canning recipies have been from Well Preserved, which has lots of really lovely small batch canning recipies and ideas. I just used her standard apricot jam recipe, and tried the gingered pear jam one as well--both were quite delicious. For the gingered pear jam, the recipe just calls for 1/4 c. chopped crystallized ginger to be cooked with the pears, as well as some whole cloves and a cinnamon stick tied up in a cheesecloth bag. The resulting jam was a heady mix of sweet and spicy, and will be delicious on some buttermilk biscuits in late December and January...

Why I Bake, Chapter 2: Cheaper Than Therapy

A good therapist can run you about $100 an hour, while a bag of chocolate chips, some flour, sugar, butter, and eggs will cost about $7, and at the end of 60 minutes you'll have delicious chocolate chip cookies...

...If that's not a reason to get in the kitchen when you're stressed/angry/depressed/frustrated, I don't know what is.

I remember that I first started baking as a means to relaxation while I was in grad school. Mixing together cookies and brownies was a good way to take a break from paper writing, allow some thoughts to distill and sort themselves out, and, when everything was out of the oven, a little sugar boost was very helpful in pushing through those last few hours of a late night. In law school, baking kept me sane--anchoring me to a former (better?) self that wasn't obsessed with tort cases, legal writing, and journal notes. There's something comforting in the process of mixing disparate ingredients into a cohesive, delicious dough--you may not be able to remember the "Mailbox" rule in contracts, but the recipe on the back of the Toll House Chocolate Chip bag will never fail you.

Now, I've found that if I go too long without being in the kitchen, I get a little antsy. Baking (and canning and cooking as well), is so completely removed from my day job, that it's pretty easy to slip into a calmer frame of mind while I contemplate what I can make for dinner/a friend's birthday/dessert with the ingredients in my cupboard and fridge. Besides, how can you feel bad when there's a slice of warm tart tatin and a glass of wine waiting for your attention by the couch? ...Thanks doc, I feel much better now.

The Wonders of Tart Tatin on the Bitten Blog at The New York Times

Taco Truck Bandwagon

I'm on it!....and yes, it's true, what all the other bloggers, foodies, and Columbus insiders say--it's an awesome ride. Why aren't you on board yet?

Last night, DF and I hit up two of the most popular trucks on the West side....Los Potosinos and Los Gauchos. Los Potosinos is in the parking lot of a tiny strip mall, on Lincoln Park Ct., just off of Georgesville Rd. and Broad St. (For maps and more details of many of Columbus' fine taco establishments, check out Taco Trucks Columbus.) At Los Potosinos, we shared an order of the pollo al carbon, juicy, grilled chicken that was deliciously seasoned and accompanied by tortillas, refried beans, rice, lettuce, tomatoes, avocados, and two amazing sauces--a salsa verde with a mild, but noticeable zing, and a thick, creamy, orange-tinted, and super spicy (but also delicious) habanero sauce. Actually, the habanero sauce was so tasty, and we only needed the slightest bit of it, that we took the rest of the container home for future enjoyment.

The cost of all of this? $8. (Including the two bottled waters we ordered.) Typically, the pollo would have been $8 itself, but the fine folks at Los Potosinos were (maybe still are) running a special--as the young lady behind the counter said "Everything's on sale!"

Our next stop was Los Gauchos, and we were wooed there by Taco Trucks Columbus' mention of spit-roasted al pastor. (Picture a giant spindle of flame-grilled, rotating meat a la a gyro shop, but with South-of-the-Border seasonings.) Los Gauchos is just up the road from Los Potosinos, tucked in the back corner of a large parking lot. Needless to say, we had the tacos al pastor. These delicious little circles of heaven came topped with a sizable pile of meat, chopped onions, cilantro, and a little slice of pineapple...which was the perfect sweet accent to the savory, spicy meat. A wide variety of salsas and toppings was available to add yourself: cucumbers, marinated onions, radishes, peppers, salsa verde, a fantastic chipotle sauce, and limes. Los Gauchos was apparently also in discount mode, as the al pastor tacos were 2 for 1. (At $1.50 each.) We each had two tacos al pastor, and one each with carne asada, bringing that total up to $6. Amazing!

By that point, we were both stuffed to the gills, and supremely satisfied with our mini-adventure. The folks at both trucks were super nice, and very patient with our lack of Spanish skills. If you're looking to try some seriously authentic Mexican food, you really must take a trip out to the West Side, or the Morse Rd./161 area--there's a swarm of trucks in that part of town as well. As frequently seems to be the case, some of the best food comes from some of the most unassuming locations, so load some friends into the car, head west, and enjoy the ride.

Upside Down Plum Tart & Spiced Pear Zucchini Bread

My fruit CSA from Wayward Seed Farm has been just prolific over the past few weeks--pears, apples, plums, and melons have been piling up on my dining room table. To cope, I dug out two of my favorite recipes and refitted them for use with my current bounty. First, a plum tart that I modified from a New York Times pear tart recipe:

Upside Down Plum Tart

1/4 cup honey
5-6 plums, peeled, quartered lengthwise and cored
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon allspice
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a 9-inch ovenproof skillet (not nonstick), simmer honey until it begins to reduce, caramelize and darken in color, 6 to 10 minutes. Don't let it burn!
2. Arrange plums, close together and cut-side down, in a circular pattern in skillet.
3. Meanwhile, in a large bowl, whisk together sugar and spices. Whisk in eggs and vanilla. Fold in flour and salt; stir in 1/2 cup butter.
4. Gently pour batter over the plums. Bake until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes. Let cake cool for 30 minutes in pan. Run an offset spatula along edges of pan to loosen cake; carefully invert cake onto a serving platter. Serve warm or cooled.

Second, a way to use some really ripe pears and the ubiquitous summer/fall zucchini. Don't get me wrong, I love zucchini as much as the next girl, but can only stand so much of it sauteed, grilled, or carpaccio-ed. (Not a real word, I know.) I have found that I can quite happily eat my weight in zucchini bread, and have made a half dozen or so loaves over the past few months. This time around, I decided to forgo the usual chocolate chips and cherries and go for a more "autumnal" theme...Hence the pears and an extra dose of spices.

You may notice that this is the second zucchini bread recipe I've posted here, but I've tweaked this one even more, cutting down on the sugar and butter--my vain attempt at being "healthy." Ha! (Sorry, I forgot to take a picture.)

Spiced Pear Zucchini Bread (makes two standard loaves)

3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon allspice
1 1/2 cups white sugar (divided)
1/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup melted, cooled butter
4 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup plain yogurt
2 cups grated zucchini (sugared and drained, see below)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 pears, peeled, cored, and diced
1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a colander, toss 1/2 cup white sugar and shredded zucchini, allow to drain 15-20 minutes. In a large bowl, combine flour, salt, nutmeg, baking soda, cinnamon, allspice, brown sugar, and remaining 1 cup white sugar. In a separate bowl, combine butter, eggs, yogurt, lemon juice, and vanilla. Mix wet ingredients into dry, wring out zucchini in a paper towel to release any remaining liquid and and fold into batter with pears and nuts if desired. Bake in 2 standard loaf pans, sprayed with nonstick spray or lined with parchment paper, for 1 hour, or until a tester comes out clean.

Additional Discussion on Loan Repayment Programs

A couple weeks ago, I came across an article by Elie Mystal, the editor of abovethelaw.com, offering some alternative ideas on how to cope with the crushing student loan debt that I (and many of my cohorts) are dealing with right now.

Today, Elie was on a clip from FoxNews, making a case for changing the interest rate to 0% for government students loans. The UK just recently made a decision to do this, and Elie argues that it was a good one. By releasing some of the pressure on college/post-college graduates, you're enabling them to help increase the consumer spending needed to jump start the economy. On the front end, knowing that your debt isn't going to include excessive interest will (ideally) motivate more students to consider bettering themselves through higher education. In regards to law school grads, lower loan debt could mean more grads would be willing to take jobs in the public sector--I know from personal experience that some really great public defenders and prosecutors have left government work to go to the private sector just so they can afford to have a family...a complete travesty, in my opinion.

If you're one of those unfortunate souls up to your eyeballs in debt, take a moment, write to your senator/representative and ask that they consider some alternatives to make repayment of student loans or manageable. While you're at it (and you are or care about a prosecutor, district attorney, or public defender), ask them where they are with appropriations for the John R. Justice Prosecutors and Public Defenders Act--it was passed last August and I haven't heard peep about its status. The more law students and attorneys make their voices heard, the better chance we have for seeing some changes.

Salsa...CAN You Dig It?

One of the random talents of the Ham Sandwich family is salsa making. My mom's mom made jars and jars of salsa every summer with the tomatoes and peppers my grandpa would grow in their backyard garden. Salsa making talent reappeared in my brother, who not only made salsa, but hot sauce as well , AND made a viable company selling spicy condiments to folks that are apparently referred to as "chiliheads." This weekend, I dug deep into my genetic code and tried my hand at making and canning my own salsa...boiling water bath and all. Surprisingly, it was not that hard, and was rather satisfying. The only investment I had to make was a box of mason jars and the canning kit with a funnel, jar and lid grabber, and spatula. (Wal-Mart is good for some things...) I'd already inherited grandma's canning kettle, and the garden supplied me with just about all the ingredients.
The most time consuming part of all this is the prep: blanching, peeling and seeding the tomatoes, roasting the other veggies, and getting the canning pot boiling. Above, tomatoes getting ready to be blanched (the cuts help in peel removal). Below, naked tomatoes.
I consulted with my brother before undergoing this endeavor, and he recommend roasting the peppers I planned on using in the salsa. On hand, I had a couple green peppers, a whole slew of jalapenos, one left over poblano, and a pepper from my yellow pepper plant that had turned red. Splash of olive oil and into the oven on broil until charred:

While broiling, I started heating up the water in the canning pot--it takes a while, so get it started right away. Also, I put the jars and lids in the dishwasher and ran them through on the "hot/sanitize cycle." That way, they're hot, clean, and ready to go when it's time to fill them. For the tomato base, my brother recommends taking 1/3 of your chopped tomatoes and pureeing them in the food processor for a better texture in your finished product. Since I didn't have enough fresh tomatoes, I pureed two 14 ounce cans of chopped ones, then dumped those and the chopped, seeded tomatoes in my cooking pot:

He also recommended having all the other veggies pre-chopped and ready for dumping, which in this case included two smallish onions, the peppers (total of four jalapenos plus the other stuff), four cloves of garlic, one tablespoon of salt, some fresh pepper, and a half teaspoon of cumin. I also chopped up about 1/2 cup of fresh cilantro--but held off on adding it until the last second.

Simmer the tomatoes and pureed tomatoes until the reach 180 degrees, the add the bowl of chopped veggies. At this point, I also added 1/4 cup of red wine vinegar, just to up the acidity...high acidity keeps the toxins at bay, which in turn means you won't kill your friends with your salsa.

Bring the heat back up to 180 degrees and simmer for about 5-10 minutes, just keep an eye on the color--too long and your peppers will turn an unappetizing shade of grey.

Here's when you stir in the chopped cilantro. Take a quick taste to check the seasonings, then get ready to jar it up. Get the jars out of the dishwasher, and using a ladle and funnel, fill them up with 1/4" space left at the top. Screw the lids on securely but not too tight, then drop them into your (hopefully) boiling pot of water in the canning pot.

Set a timer and boil the jars for 20 minutes, then using the jar grabber, remove the jars from the water, place them on a rack or towel, and let them cool. If the jars are sealed you'll hear them "pop" as the seal gets sucked down. I found that if I barely touched the lids, they sucked themselves down....success!!!!

Now, I just have to try and avoid the temptation of digging in...Must. Save. For. Winter...

On a slightly promotional note--due to circumstances beyond my brother's control, his company Sauce Cartel is no longer producing hot sauce, but still has some inventory he's willing to sell--namely, his awesome jerk paste (great on ribs), as well as a large selection of hot sauces in various degrees of hotness. I think he still has some hot salsa left as well. If you're interested, he can be reached at redrocketz@gmail.com. Trust me, it's great stuff...there's some reviews of their product here and here.