Ham Sandwich Indicted!

Foam Party!: Modernist Cooking at Home

2012-02-16T11:31:00.000-08:00

Pickled radishes with goat cheese foam

Modernist cooking (or modernist cuisine, or molecular gastronomy) has gradually been moving out of the realm of high end restaurants like Ferran Adria's "elBulli" or Grant Achatz's "Alinea" and into the kitchens of passionate amateurs (check out what the guys at Jet City Gastrophysics are doing) or science-minded home cooks. The publication of Nathan Myhrvold's epic tome, Modernist Cuisine last March stirred up a firestorm of interest in manipulating food using scientific techniques like centrifuging, and ingredients such as hydrocolloids and emulsifiers. These self-described modernist techniques allow us to reexamine how we prepare food, whether it is by finding a way to cook the perfect burger (you'll want 30 hours and a vacuum sealer) or by creating a platform that captures the absolute flavor and essence of an ingredient. These techniques also promote a sense of playfulness, encouraging the eater to question appearances and textures and forcing us to rethink how we believe food should look, taste, or even behave.

Unfortunately, many of the deeply impressive dishes produced by the Modernist Cuisine staff or chefs like Adria and Achatz require equipment that is out of range for the average home cook (liquid nitrogen dewers and refrigerated centrifuges, anyone?) but there are still some tools and ingredients that are easily accessible and relatively inexpensive. One of the most essential is the iSi whip/foam canister. The iSi allows the user to take any liquid and infuse it with carbon-dioxide or nitrous-oxide, turning it into a variety of foams. My brother-in-law and partner-in-mad-science picked up an iSi and we experimented with a series of recipes.

With the iSi, we created three dishes: a margarita with Cadillac foam, garlic cream "truffles," and radishes in edible dirt.

The margarita was the most straightforward, starting with a base of traditional margarita ingredients. Into the whipper we put egg whites, some orange juice, bitters, and Grand Mariner. Charged with a CO2 cartridge, we topped the base with fluffy, orange-infused foam, creating an airy layer of scent and flavor that preceded the actual base cocktail with each sip. It was delicious.

Up next were the garlic cream "truffles." The bro-in-law had prepped this course earlier in the day by steeping garlic cloves in olive oil, milk, and cream, then blending them all together, straining it, and infusing it in the iSi container for several hours. He had also made a coating of bread crumbs and dehydrated olives (that also made an appearance in the next dish). We piped the garlic mixture out of the iSi and into golf ball (truffle?) sized bites that we then rolled in the olives and crumbs.

The result were decadent bites of the thickest whipped cream you've ever had, infused with the taste of garlic that has had all the bite stripped away, leaving only the sweetness. The olive and crumb coating offered a necessary textural difference and enough salt to balance the fat in the cream. These were heavenly (if not really rich--one or two went a long way).

Finally, our last dish was a play on radishes in potting soil: we dehydrated Kalamata olives (we used an oven warming drawer, but you could use a food dehydrator) then chopped them into tiny pieces, giving the appearance of dirt. We quick-pickled some radishes (tops still on!) in a apple cider/sugar/salt solution for a few hours and also prepared a sauce of goat cheese and cream that we infused in the iSi canister.

Go ahead, eat the dirt!

Assembly was simple: "plant" a few radishes in a pot with the olive soil, then pile the rest (and a healthy mound of goat cheese foam) on a platter. Dip the radishes in the goat cheese, roll in the soil, then eat right off the stem. Amazing! Salty, briny, creamy, and crunchy all at once!

As you can probably imagine, these are not dishes you'd whip together after a long day at the office, but if you have a weekend day and some time to experiment, they're a lot of fun. Besides, once the prep is done, the assembly is really a breeze.

While you'll get no argument from me on the importance of appreciating food in a simpler, more natural state, exploring food using these non-traditional techniques is a fascinating education in and of itself. Many of these recipes are mini-lessons in chemistry..and it's the chemistry behind cooking that is helpful to understand, whether you're searing a steak on a grill or sous-vide cooking it in a vacuum sealed bag. By understanding how our cooking processes interact with our food, I believe that we can better prepare our meals, and thus develop a deeper appreciation for what we're eating. And who am I kidding, playing with foam is really fun...

Cauliflower's Day in the Sun (or Surf)

2012-02-06T17:29:00.000-08:00

(Is that a fractal I see?)

Cauliflower, I think, was for a long time an underrated vegetable. It's to be expected, I suppose, when your entire existence pretty much revolves around being placed on a raw credite platter to balance out all those other colors. I'm fairly confident that the only time I saw cauliflower in my house growing up was when it was slowly oxidizing on a vegetable plate with a bowl of Ranch dressing.

In the last few years, however, it seems like cauliflower is experiencing a sort of Renaissance. Elevated from its raw and odiferous existence by a good roast or a hot sear in a pan, cauliflower becomes tender and sweetly nuanced. "Rediscovery" might be a strong word, but it definitely seems to be experiencing an increase in popularity: Michael Ruhlman is roasting whole heads of it and basting it with brown butter, it's showing up in "steak" form as a vegetarian main dish, back in 2010, Michael Symon engaged in a cauliflower battle with John Fraser on Iron Chef, and a few weeks ago, this recipe was featured in Bon Appetit: Poor Man's Shrimp Cocktail.

The Poor Man's Shrimp Cocktail caught my eye for a number of reasons: the major seasoning ingredient is Old Bay Seasoning (and that stuff is delicious) and this seemed like a rather cost effective way to get the peel-and-eat shrimp vibe, without the peel-and-eat shrimp prices. Additionally, I have family members that are vegetarians and/or allergic to shellfish, and this seemed like a good way to let them partake.

After being blanched in the Old Bay brine, the chopped cauliflower florets cooled to a texture and temperature that was eerily reminiscent of actual shrimp, and dipped in cocktail sauce, the resemblance was startling. Once again, the lowly cauliflower proves itself to have another trick up it's sleeve.

Poor Man's Shrimp Cocktail (I prefer calling it Faux Shrimp Cocktail)

1 cup dry crab boil seasoning (such as Zatarain's or Old Bay)

1/4 cup kosher salt

2 yellow onions, quartered

6 garlic cloves

3 lemons, halved crosswise

2 1-pound heads of cauliflower, cored, trimmed into 2" florets

Cocktail sauce

1 lemon, sliced in wedges

Combine crab boil, salt, onions, garlic, and 6 quarts water in a large pot. Squeeze juice from lemons into pot and add lemon halves. Set pot over high heat and bring liquid to a boil. Cook for 10 minutes to let flavors meld. Using a slotted spoon, remove onions, garlic, and lemons from broth; discard. Return liquid to a rolling boil.

Add cauliflower; turn off heat, cover pot tightly, and let stand until cauliflower is crisp-tender, 5–10 minutes. Drain; spread out cauliflower on a rimmed baking sheet and let cool completely. DO AHEAD: Cauliflower can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.

Arrange room-temperature or chilled cauliflower on a platter with cocktail sauce for dipping. Finish with a squeeze of lemon if so desired.

Pimento Cheese, or How to Win Friends and Influence People

2012-02-03T06:11:00.000-08:00

It's Super Bowl weekend, and maybe you care profoundly about the outcome, and maybe you don't. But regardless, someone you know is probably having a party as an excuse to eat a bunch of ridiculous food and check out some commercials that you've probably already seen online.

If you're expected to bring something to a party this weekend (or hell, any party, ever), you should probably bring pimento cheese. Those of you from the South are probably familiar with pimento cheese, a spread/dip of shredded cheddar cheese, mayo, and chopped, roasted red peppers. And chances are, if your mom/aunt/grandma made it, you have very strong feelings about how it should taste. If you're from Yankee territory, you might have heard of it via any of of the articles/magazines declaring Southern food last year's (and probably still this year's) big "thing." Maybe you're intrigued, maybe you're grossed out. You should be the former.

True, this is a dip that that Diva of Diabetes, Paula Deen, would be proud of. But don't let that stop you from making it. First, it's incredibly easy. Second it's good on everything. EVERYTHING. Crackers? Sure, but why stop there. How about on a sandwich? Or AS a sandwich? Veggie dip? Yeah, if you want to be healthy about it. Baked potato, hot dog, or burger topping? Now you're talking. Third, people may pretend to be coy and do the "oh, I'll just have a bite," but that first bite will not be their last. You'll turn around and find them using their finger to wipe the last cheesy bits off of their cocktail plate. They will love you.

Here's what I did, but the recipe is flexible, and can be suited to your tastes. Roasted, minced garlic might be nice, or maybe some thin sliced white onions. Any seasonings can be adjusted to taste, depending on how smokey/spicy you like it.

Pimento Cheese

1/2 pound of sharp white cheddar
1/2 pound of sharp yellow cheddar
1 cup mayonnaise (if you're feeling ambitious you can make your own...it ups the decadence level considerably)
1/4 cup chopped pimento (roasted red peppers...you can find them jarred, or on olive bars)
1-2 tsp of pimento brine
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4-1/2 tsp smoked paprika or ancho chili powder
salt and pepper to taste

Grate the cheese into a large bowl, fold in mayo, pimentos, brine, and seasonings, being sure to combine everything well. Refrigerate for a few hours (or overnight) to let the flavors blend. Serve on any and everything. Makes about two pint jars worth.

Grilled Winter Veggie Pizza

2012-02-01T06:11:00.000-08:00

It's the first of February, but yesterday it was fifty-some degrees and sunny. With weather that nice in mid-winter, in Ohio, there's only one thing to do: fire up the grill. My freezer had a complete dearth of grillable items, however, but thankfully, The Greener Grocer at the North Market has this great thing called the Weekly Fresh Market Bag. It's essentially a mini-CSA, and they offer a summer and winter season, with seasonal, if not local produce, grains, and cheeses. I don't have a WFMB myself, but am lucky enough to have a boyfriend that does, and is willing to share. Since this week's bag had (among other things) kale, shiitake mushrooms, and fingerling potatoes in it, we decided to throw an impromptu grilled, winter veggie pizza party. Topped with a variety of cheeses pulled out of my fridge (fontina, goat, and Parmesan) and infused with the smoke from a super-hot grill, it made for a delightful taste of winter with the slightest hint of the promise of spring.

If you're doing a veggie pizza like this, I'd recommend chopping the kale into bite size pieces, then blanching it for a few minutes to get it tender. Same thing with the potatoes: slice them thin and par-boil them--they'll finish cooking on the pizza. For the shiitakes, we cooked them low and super-slow in a skillet with a knob of butter...they gradually caramelized into tasty little nuggets of mushroomy goodness. Finally, since onions make everything better, we also added some caramelized red onions, slow cooked on low heat until they were browned and super soft.

My go-to dough recipe is below...and I'm not going to lie, it's a Giada DeLaurentiis' recipe, but it's quick, easy, and pretty versatile. (You can roll it out thin for a crispier dough, or keep it thick for a chewier, softer pizza.)

Basic Pizza Dough (makes two 12-14 inch pies)

3/4 cup warm water (105°F to 115°F)
1 envelope active dry yeast

2 cups (or more) all purpose flour
1 teaspoon sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons olive oil
Pour 3/4 cup warm water into small bowl; stir in yeast. Let stand until yeast dissolves, about 5 minutes. Brush large bowl lightly with olive oil. Mix 2 cups flour, sugar, and salt in processor. Add yeast mixture and 3 tablespoons oil; process until dough forms a sticky ball. Transfer to lightly floured surface. Knead dough until smooth, adding more flour by tablespoonfuls if dough is very sticky, about 1 minute. Transfer to prepared bowl; turn dough in bowl to coat with oil. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and let dough rise in warm draft-free area until doubled in volume, about 1 hour. (A cold oven with the oven light on is a great place to do this.) Punch down dough. When ready to use, roll out on a floured surface, add desired toppings and cook in an oven at 450, or on a closed grill on high heat.

If you want more information on The Greener Grocer's Weekly Fresh Market Bag, check out their website. They also have a newsletter you can sign up for, that lists what you're getting each week, as well as recipes and suggestions for how to use your loot.

Dal Bhat Tarkari: Nepal, in Your Kitchen

2012-01-31T10:18:00.000-08:00

Dal bhat tarkari. It's essentially the national dish of Nepal, and if you're a nerdy food dork, you might refer to it as DBT. (NB: I am a nerdy food dork.) If you ever journey to Nepal, you'll eat a lot of DBT...possibly for breakfast, and most likely for dinner. It's comprised of three parts: dal, a lentil soup that can be curried and seasoned in a variety of ways, bhat, or rice, and tarkari, an assorted mix of seasonal vegetables. It's usually accompanied by a side of pickled vegetables, or chutney (called achar).

DBT really is a staple, and for good reason...it's healthy, filling, and delicious. Ginger, garlic, garam masala, fenugreek, cumin, chili peppers, coriander, cinnamon, and asafoetida all make appearances in dal and tarkari, with varying degrees of spicyness based on the number and variety of chili peppers used.

Sidebar: asafoetida (which I sadly did not have on hand this time around) is a spice derived from the dried latex gum exuded from the underground root of a perennial herb called ferula. You can find it Indian and Middle Eastern grocery stores. It has a strong odor and flavor in its raw state, but once cooked it mellows out. Also, it "reduces the growth of indigenous microflora in the gut, reducing flatulence." So, you have that going for you, which is nice.

A few days ago, my friend and Nepal-expert Kerry posted on Facebook that she was making DBT for dinner. And because I'm easily influenced, I determined that I had to make some myself asap. I riffed on a couple of recipes from a lovely cookbook I picked up in Kathmandu (but is also available on Amazon) called Taste of Nepal. If you're looking for a easily accessible, yet comprehensive introduction to Nepali cooking, Jyoti Pathak's 2007 book is a wonderful resource. It is divided into several parts (Bread, Snacks, Rice Dishes, Poultry, Sweets, Drinks, etc.) and also includes a Nepali-English glossary, ingredient and kitchen equipment lists, as well as menus for planning your own Nepali feast. Each recipe is prefaced by an explanation that gives insight to the dish, and suggestions for its preparation.

DBT is also great because it's an easy introduction to Nepali cuisine...the flexibility it offers in flavor means it's pretty hard to mess up. For dal, you can pick up basic green lentils at any grocery store, but if you get yourself to an Indian grocery, there will be myriad varieties to try. Simply toss them in enough water to cover them by an inch or so, add any spices or aromatics you'd like (chopped garlic and ginger, a couple teaspoons of garam masala, cumin, and coriander, plus any chilies or chili powder you desire) bring to a boil, then simmer until the lentils are tender and the consistency is to your liking...Nepali dal tends to be more soupy, I like mine with less liquid. Served with bhat and some veggies, and you have a flavorful, authentic meal...all without the three day flight to the other side of the world.

If you're looking for some more info on traditional Nepali/Newari dishes, swing by Moti Eats, a tumblr blog by the lovely Kerry. She documented many of her meals during her last trip to Nepal, offering photos and explanations about what she ate and what it all means.

Nest Eggs, Two Ways

2012-01-11T08:46:00.000-08:00

Skillet-Baked Eggs w/Spinach, from Bon Appetit (This is their pic, not mine...my camera is on the fritz.)

For Christmas this year, my food-obsessed brother-in-law (and partner-in-crime) gave me a copy of Jean-Georges Vongerichten's latest book, Home Cooking with Jean-Georges: My Favorite Simple Recipes. It's a collection of what are, in all reality, pretty simple recipes that highlight fresh ingredients and can be accomplished with a minimum of time and effort. The photos are beautifully shot, and the recipes, while occasionally so basic they're obvious (I'm not sure heirloom tomato crostini warrants an actual recipe..), for the most part give creative little twists on elementary concepts. You definitely can't fault Mr. Vongerichten for his overall concept, though--the presentation of simple, satisfying meals for his friends and family that require few fancy ingredients and no complicated techniques.

Take, for example, the dish that apparently prompted my bro-in-law to buy the book for me in the first place: Fried Eggs with Crisp Croutons, Bacon, and Asparagus. It's essentially a skillet of toasted bread cubes, asparagus, and bacon (we subbed in mushrooms for the vegetarians) with eggs cracked on top. What takes the dish to the next level of deliciousness, however, is the addition of chopped dill and finely diced hot peppers. When we put this together for Christmas day brunch, the reviews were rave--the crispy croutons were a wonderful foil for the softer asparagus, mushrooms, and runny-yolked eggs. The dill added a nice herbal element, and the hot peppers brightened the whole thing up with a decidedly potent kick. (The second time I made the dish, I used the thick-cut bacon from the North Market's Bluescreek Farms...mindblowing. What would happen if we used thick-cut bacon in every dish that called for regular bacon? World peace? We should find out.)

In keeping with the theme (and now obsessed with the eggs-in-a-skillet concept) I made brunch a couple weeks later with some friends, the main dish being based on this recipe from January's Bon Appetit. It's essentially the same idea as Jean-George's, but with spinach instead of asparagus (I also included bread cubes). I also upped the amount of leeks and scallions considerably (reflected in the second recipe below). Oh, and I added some chanterelle mushrooms--just to be fancy. The thing that really, really makes this particular version is the garlic yogurt and the chili butter, and I think that those two condiments could be applied to a lot of dishes to really amp up the flavor.

In the introduction to his cookbook, Vongerichten highlights the joys he's found in cooking for his friends and family, and reflects on the satisfaction that he finds in the kitchen, surrounded by his loved ones. His goal is "to spend as much time as possible with my family while cooking and eating good food." It doesn't get any better than that, does it?

Fried Eggs with Crisp Croutons, Bacon, and Asparagus
(serves 2, can be doubled or tripled)

INGREDIENTS
4 slices of bacon
1 slice day-old sourdough bread, cubed (we used a country french)
2 large asparagus spears, trimmed and sliced on the bias
Kosher salt
1 green onion, sliced on the bias
4 eggs
1 tablespoon sliced, fresh, long red chili
1 tablespoon chopped, fresh dill

PREPARATION

Cook the bacon in a non-stick skillet over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until pieces are golden and fat is rendered. Add the bread and asparagus and season with a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the bacon and bread are evenly browned and crisp, about 7 minutes. Stir in the onion and cook until tender and fragrant, about 2 minutes.

Break the eggs into the pan, letting the whites run together. When the bottom just sets, sprinkle the chili, dill, and a pinch of salt over the eggs. Cook until the whites are set and the yolks are runny, 3-4 minutes. Serve hot.

Skillet-Baked Eggs with Spinach, Leeks, and Chanterelles
(adapted from Bon Appetit, serves 2)

INGREDIENTS

2/3 cup plain Greek-style yogurt
1 garlic clove, roughly chopped
Kosher salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
2 tablespoons olive oil
1- 1 1/2 cups day old, cubed bread
2 chopped leeks (white and pale-green parts only)
3-4 chopped scallions (white and pale-green parts only)
1 cup chopped mushrooms (your choice)
10 cups fresh spinach (10 ounces)
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
4 large eggs
1/4 teaspoon kirmizi biber (Turkish chili powder--I used dried Alepo chili pepper, you can find it at Penzy's), or 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes and a pinch of paprika
1 teaspoon chopped fresh oregano

PREPARATION

Mix yogurt, garlic, and a pinch of salt in a small bowl. Set aside.
Preheat oven to 300°. Melt 2 tablespoons butter with oil in a large heavy skillet over medium heat. Add bread cubes, cook until lightly toasted. Add leeks and scallions and mushrooms; reduce heat to low. Cook until soft, about 10 minutes. Add spinach and lemon juice; season with salt. Increase heat to medium-high; cook, turning frequently, until wilted, 4–5 minutes.
Make 4 deep indentations in center of spinach in larger skillet or 2 indentations in each small skillet. Carefully break 1 egg into each hollow, taking care to keep yolks intact. Bake until egg whites are set, 10–15 minutes.
Melt remaining 2 tablespoon butter in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Add kirmizi biber (or other spice of your choice) and a pinch of salt and cook until butter starts to foam and browned bits form at bottom of pan, 1–2 minutes. Add oregano and cook for 30 seconds longer. Remove garlic halves from yogurt; discard. Spoon yogurt over spinach and eggs. Drizzle with spiced butter.

German S Cookies: Revisiting a Holiday Classic

2011-12-19T12:40:00.001-08:00

It's the holiday season, kids...the time of year to dig out old traditions, dust off old recipes, and wax poetic about the past. Unexpectedly smacked by a wave of nostalgia, this past weekend I channeled the ghost of my paternal grandmother, Bertha, and busted out a classic German cookie recipe. We called them "German S Cookies" and after searching the Internet for recipes, apparently so does everyone else...I guess it goes to the practicality of the German mindset. They're not much more than a basic shortbread, with the addition of egg yolks and lemon zest, but it's their simplicity that makes them so enjoyable. They're just slightly sweetened, the sort of cookie you can graze on absentmindedly while enjoying some eggnog at a holiday party.

As far as I can tell, the "s" shape might relate to similar cookies called Spritzgebäck that are made with a cookie press and shaped into random letters/shapes. One recipe (this one), refers to them as Allgäuer Butter S cookies, and was what I used as the basis for mine. Maybe these originated in the Allgäu region of Germany? Considering the fact that the Allgäu is a region in the states of Bavaria/Baden-Württemberg, and is the ancestral home of my grandmother and her family, it would make sense that she made these.

I remember Bertha baking dozens--hundreds--of S cookies every Christmas,rolling and shaping them on auto pilot as she coached me and my considerably less-adept fingers. As it's been several years since I made them, it took a while to get accustomed to the dough, but after the first dozen or so, I found a rhythm: instead of rolling out long strands of dough then cutting them into shorter strands, I rolled just enough for a single "s" at a time. It might have been more time consuming, but it allowed for greater control over the thickness of each cookie.

Here's the recipe I used, and while I don't think it's exactly like the one she had (I still haven't gotten around to translating her cookbook), it worked well enough and the end result tasted very similar to what I remember.

German S Cookies

Ingredients:
9 tablespoons butter, softened to room temp
1/2 cup sugar
3 eggs, yolks and whites separated
1 teaspoon lemon zest (essentially from one lemon)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 3/4 cup flour
Sprinkles, nonpareils, etc.

Directions:
Combine the butter and sugar in a bowl, beating until creamy. Add the egg yolks, lemon juice and zest, then knead in the flour. Cover the dough with plastic wrap and let is relax in the fridge for about an hour.

Preheat the oven to 375. Taking about a teaspoon or so of dough, roll into a 3 inch long "snake," shape into an "S" and place on a parchment covered cookie sheet. You can line the cookies up close together--they don't do a whole lot of rising or spreading. Brush them with the egg white and sprinkle with the nonpareils/sprinkles. Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until they're just lightly browned.

Allow to cool, then eat! They'll keep for several days if well wrapped and several weeks if frozen.

Fröhliche Weihnachten!

Let Me Entertain You: Brunch as a Superior Social Gathering (and also, Cinnamon Rolls Make Great Gifts)

2011-12-06T12:36:00.001-08:00

Brunch. That amazing combination of breakfast (eggs a million ways, waffles, sausage gravy) and lunch (Bloody Marys) that is situated just late enough in the day that you don't have to set an alarm to get to it on time. Fancy or casual, eggs Benedict or eggs over easy, it's easily tailored to suit your mood (or degree of hangover).

If you're a brunch fan--and seriously, who isn't?--the talented (and wonderfully dedicated to a cause) Nick Dekker just published a spectacular book (Breakfast with Nick, natch) on all the great places in Columbus to get your breakfast (and by proxy, brunch) fix. He does an excellent job covering everything from greasy spoons, to doughnut shops, to upscale brunches. If you love breakfast, you should totally buy this book--it's an excellent reference guide, showcasing off the beaten path holes-in-the-wall as well as classic standbys. Reading it on an empty stomach will make you very, very hungry.

...Anyway, while Nick has shed a lot of light on the great morning dining experiences in the 'Bus, I'm offering one that I don't think made his book: my house. Well, your house, or anyone's house, for that matter. Sure, going out for brunch is definitely awesome, but sometimes you don't want to fight the crowds or even change out of your pajamas. Conversely, maybe you're thinking of hosting a holiday/New Year's gathering that doesn't lock you in to an all-night eggnog-a-thon: the brunch is here to help you.

As it happens, over the course of the last several months the TNDC crew has expanded their get-togethers from Thursday nights to the occasional Sunday morning, finding that we like each other not only in dark bars, but also in the harsh light of mid-morning. The format is simple, and requires very little planning: someone hosts, and everyone brings something. It's extra casual, since hell, everyone pretty much just woke up, and there's no worry about rushing through your meal so you don't get the stink-eye from people waiting for your table. Also, the mimosa refills are free.

Our first go around at "TNDC: Brunch Edition" centered on some cured salmon I made, based on Michael Ruhlman's recipe in Twenty. My guests brought bagels and knishes from Katzinger's, and coupled with a large pot of coffee and a pepper and onion fritatta, it made for a lovely way to start the day. Plus, everyone was done and out of the house by by 1pm and I had the rest of the day open to contemplate my next curing project.

For our most recent brunching, I pulled out the superior cinnamon roll recipe from Ree Drummond AKA The Pioneer Woman. If you are looking for something ciminally delicious to bring to brunch (and a vehicle for adult onset diabetes) these rolls are the way to go. Her insanely good recipe makes an ungodly amount (six or seven 9"x9" trays of 9 rolls each) but they can be frozen for later and/or given out as gifts. And if you give them as gifts, people will love you. Bonus.

This is what Ree's 9cups-of-flour dough looks like on it's second rise. Impressive, and only mildly intimidating. The dough is rolled out in a rectangle, slathered in butter, sugar, and cinnamon, then rolled and sliced. At this point, these are really ideal for their flexibility: you can let them rise and bake, then freeze, or keep in the fridge for a day or two then bake, or wrap tightly in foil and freeze. Just defrost for an hour before you bake them and your kitchen (or your friend's) will be redolent of cinnamon...and coupled with some frying bacon, it's a perfect olfactory wake-up.

Ultimately, the long and short of this all is, get some friends, pick a house, share some breakfast. Host a holiday brunch and celebrate the season with your friends over some biscuits and a pan of fluffy scrambled eggs. Give Ree's cinnamon rolls a shot, try your hand at curing some salmon, or just whip up a stack of pancakes, put out a copy of the Sunday New York Times and confirm that someone is bringing the vodka and Bloody Mary mix. And, if all else fails and the eggs burn or the bacon blackens, just make sure you have a copy of Breakfast with Nick handy.

Love Your Friends, Make Them Marshmallows

2011-12-05T08:02:00.001-08:00

What exactly is a marshmallow? We toss them in hot chocolate, melt them into Rice Krispie treats, and top our sweet potato casseroles with them. They're obviously made with (a lot) of sugar, but what else gives them that soft, melty-chewy texture? And can you make them at home? (The answer to that last one is an unequivocal 'yes.')

Per Wikipedia (and other assorted websites), the marshmallow first appeared in ancient Egypt, where Egyptians used sap extracted from the marsh-growing mallow plant (Althaea officinalis) to create a type of candy; in the Middle Ages they used it medicinally to soothe sore throats. The French later used the sap in combination with whipped egg whites and sugar to produce a meringue called pâte de guimauve, but it was apparently very labor intensive to whip to the desired consistency. Sometime in the 1800s, producers determined that they could use gelatin mixed with corn starch to get to the right chewy/fluffy consistency, and thus avoid the need for the mallow-plant extracts.

Today, marshmallows are exclusively made with gelatin, which makes them an incredibly easy treat to make at home. The best part is that they can be colored and flavored in any way that you would like, and coated in any number of toppings. The texture of homemade marshmallows is infinitely better than those you buy at the store--they're softer (more tender?) and while sweet, are lacking that processed-sweetness that you get with the Jet-Puffed variety. I've been making marshmallows for several years now, tweaking my recipe from this one from Gourmet Magazine. The only semi-special equipment you'll need is a stand mixer (a hand mixer works too, but you'll have to hold it for 15 minutes) and a candy thermometer. After I made this last batch (flavored with almond extract/Amaretto and Kahlua), I realized I could probably increase the flavor content by soaking the gelatin in my liquor of choice instead of water. I haven't tried it yet to see if it will work, but it's definitely worth an experiment next weekend...

Fluffy Homemade Marshmallows

Ingredients:
3 (1/4-ounces) envelopes unflavored gelatin
1 cup water, divided
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup light corn syrup
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

Optional:
2 teaspoons of any flavor extract (mint, maple, orange, etc.) OR
2 tablespoons or so of your favorite flavored liquor
A few drops of food color or food gel

Directions:
Line a 9" x 13" pan with foil then spray liberally with non-stick cooking spray.

Sprinkle gelatin over 1/2 cup water in bowl of mixer and let soften while making syrup.

Heat sugar, corn syrup, salt, and remaining 1/2 cup water in a small heavy saucepan over low heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Bring to a boil over medium heat, without stirring, washing any sugar crystals down side of pan with a pastry brush dipped in cold water. Put thermometer into syrup and continue boiling, without stirring, until it registers 240°F (soft-ball stage). Remove from heat and let stand until bubbles dissipate.

With mixer at low speed, pour hot syrup into gelatin in a thin stream down side of bowl. Increase speed to high and beat until very thick, about 15 minutes. Add vanilla and other optional extracts and beat 1 minute more.

Spoon marshmallow into baking pan and press evenly with dampened fingertips or a sptaula dipped in water to smooth top (it will be very sticky).

Let stand, uncovered, at room temperature until firm, about 2 hours.

Dust the top with powered sugar (or cocoa powder or toasted coconut) and invert onto a cutting board. Cut into 3/4-inch-wide strips, then cut each strip into 3/4-inch squares and toss in a bowl or dish to completely cover each square with powdered sugar.

Honey Harvesting, or Why You Should Thank a Bee Keeper

2011-11-02T08:04:00.000-07:00

For this past weekend's adventure, I headed east to Newark, OH with my equally adventuresome brother to partake in some honey extracting. Out in God's Country, in a garage heated up to 90 or so degrees by a wood-burning stove, I met the incredibly informative and entertaining Aaron Kirkingburg and his assorted family members. Aside from an extensive knowledge of hunting, fishing, and trapping, Aaron's been keeping bees since he was a kid, and was happy to show this wanna-be homesteader what goes into a honey harvest. For the record, it's a lot of work, and the amount of honey collected is entirely dependent on the weather, other natural elements (predators, parasites), and the temperament of the bees themselves.

The whole art of beekeeping is another story entirely, so I'm just going to focus on the process used to extract the honey from the honeycombs. When my brother and I arrived at the Kirkingburg farm, Aaron had already started a fire in the garage stove, heating up the space to help the honey move more freely. He'd also taken two 'supers'--the boxes in the picture above--and cleared them of bees. It was a very nice move on his part.

The first thing to do when extracting is to scrape the propolis from the frames. Propolis is a resinous mixture made by the bees to help seal small spaces in the hive. It's tacky and is impossible to get out of clothing. (If you're planning on extracting honey, consider wearing clothes to which you have no emotional attachment.)

After clearing the propolis, the frames are pulled out of the super. This was a rough year for bees, as the early rains in the spring really impacted the pollen production, and thus honey production. Aaron's yield was a lot less than it normally is (he's harvested up to 1000 pounds of honey in the past), and our project that day was only two supers worth of frames.

The frame above was only half-filled with honey, the frame below was slightly better. One of the surprising things about the whole process was realizing how heavy the more filled frames were. You don't expect them to weigh as much as they do (a good 4-5 pounds), since you don't (or at least I didn't) picture beeswax honeycomb as particularly heavy. But when it's filled with honey, it is.

The next step in the process is capping the comb. It's done over a plastic bucket with a grate, using an electric "knife" to slice off the top layer of the comb and expose the honey. Aaron's been doing this his whole life, so he could zip the knife right up the comb, but a noob like me took a little more time to get the hang of it. We munched on pieces of the capped comb as we worked, chewing up the wax to get the honey out. (Kind of like those wax bottles with that crappy food-dye sugar water in them, but about one million times more delicious.) The honey was dark, rich, and very flavorful...completely different from your standard clover honey purchased at the grocery store.

After running the knife up both sides of the frame, you use a metal pick (not unlike a comb you'd use to fluff out your 'fro) to pop open any combs not capped by the knife. It's important to make sure every comb has been capped, otherwise you're not going to get honey from the unopened ones. We had 20 frames to cap and that part alone took probably an hour or two....granted, Aaron is probably much more efficient without the Ham Sandwich family getting involved, but still, it's hot, slow, careful work, where the (obvious) goal is to extract as much honey as possible. Aaron also melts down and filters the wax when he's done processing to make beeswax candles. Nothing is wasted.

Aaron owns an extractor, which is essentially a giant honey centrifuge. As each frame is capped, it's placed in the barrel, and balanced by weight. Then you turn the thing on and wait. As the frames spin, the honey is whipped out of the combs and against the inside of the barrel, where it drips down the sides and collects at the bottom. We had the extractor running for a couple of hours, during which we took a break to eat, check out some of Aaron's beehives, and let me experience the fun of a bee sting. (Important lesson: Bees do not like it when you stand directly in front of their hive door. They assume you are a predator and don't care that you're just trying to take a nice picture.)

When we finally shut off the extractor, we set up a five gallon bucket with a double filter underneath the drain spigot and watched as our liquid gold flowed out in a sweet, steady stream. All told, after a full afternoon of work, Aaron probably ended up with about six gallons of honey, at about 12 pounds per gallon. (He was very kind to give me a container to take home for myself, which I'm saving to enjoy on some homemade bread or biscuits. Mmmm...) When he's done with everything, he wheels the extractor outside, and the bees will come and clean any leftover honey off the equipment, to be reused in their hives. Again, nothing is wasted, and everything gets reused. The whole experience was eyeopening, in that I had a chance to realize how much time and effort goes into making a jar of honey, and like so many of the livelihoods that rely on nature, it's full of risks and challenges. So, if you're at your local farmer's market and you see someone selling local honey, support the cause and pick up a jar. Your beekeeper will appreciate it, and my guess is, you will too.

*Thanks again to the entire Kirkingburg family for their hospitality! It was a great meeting you all and a wonderful learning experience...I hope you see you again soon!

Roadtrip to Ruhlman and Ramen

2011-10-25T13:49:00.000-07:00

Cleveland is home to a great many awesome things. Lake Erie. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Great Lakes Brewery's Christmas Ale. A bunch of fabulous restaurants (Greenhouse Tavern, anything by Michael Symon). The Flats. (Eh, maybe not so much that last one...it's not 1995.). It's also the hometown of Michael Ruhlman, writer, chef, and general food-lover. Maybe you've heard of Ruhlman because you watch No Reservations with chef/global traveler Anthony Bourdain...they're friends, and Bourdain frequently mentions Ruhlman on his show. Maybe you've seen him as a judge on Iron Chef, or maybe you've actually read a couple of his books.

Ruhlman started out writing non-fiction books on a variety of topics (all-boys high schools, wooden boat building) but began spending more of his time focusing on food after he did a stint at the Culinary Institute of America, then wrote about it in The Making of a Chef. Fourteen years and several more food-related books later, he has released his latest tome, Ruhlman's Twenty. Inside, he details a collection of the basic, no...essential techniques you need to make yourself into a pretty decent home cook. Some of them are ingredient based (Salt is vital! Onions and eggs can do amazing things!) and some are techniques (poaching, braising, chilling). His point is that the great chefs of today perfect their techniques and use of ingredients and then build and improvise based on those refined skills. Now, this doesn't mean that if you read his book, you can skip the CIA and just apply for a job at The French Laundry, but it will at least get you in the kitchen, encourage you to think about your food, and help you make it taste better.

Anyway, Ruhlman's been doing a book tour to promote Twenty, and he stopped off at the Columbia Branch Library up in Lorain County last Saturday morning to give a talk about how he ended up becoming a food writer. (Hint: like many things, it happened through a combination of good timing, luck, and lots of passion.) My travel/food/writing cohort SK and I made plans to go up for another Cannonball Run-style adventure and see the talk, fight the expected throngs and maybe get a book signed. Turns out, the expected throngs were really about 25 people at a very lovely and intimate discussion where Ruhlman talked for a bit then took questions from the audience. He emphasized a few points: that becoming a chef changes not only the way you think about food, but the very way you approach life--you are constantly striving for improvement and efficiency, and that you must, must respect your ingredients. Your dedication to your dish and your ingredients make (or break) your meal. Makes sense, no?

At one point during his talk, his wife called, and he answered, thinking that something was amiss. Turns out, she had forgotten he was giving a presentation and just wanted to let him know that she had picked up a big pork belly at the farmer's market to make some bacon. My friends, if that's not love, I don't know what is. After the Q & A, he spent a good half hour signing books and chatting with guests, and then, finally, SK and I presented him with some tokens of Columbus love: macarons from Pistacia Vera and mead from Brothers Drake Meadery. With luck, we convinced him to come back down to Columbus (he's already been a few times) and hit up some of our more recently opened restaurants and cocktail joints.

It was a really nice way to meet someone who's writing and research has so profoundly affected how I approach food and cooking. One guest succinctly (and accurately) summed up why Ruhlman's writing is so great when she told him that when she's reading his books, she feels like he is standing next to her, talking to her directly. His passion to his crafts (food and writing) are inspiring and he couldn't have been more gracious to two random ladies from Columbus. Ruhlman, we'll see you again soon.

After the Ruhlman love-fest, SK and I jumped back in the car, and zipped up to Cleveland proper where we dashed through the Westside Market (I'd never been!) taking time to snap some pics but that's about it. The WSM is pretty impressive...much bigger than our beloved North Market, with a variety of butchers, bakers, veggie vendors, and poultry purveors. However, since it was super crowded and our collective blood sugar was getting dangerously low we didn't spend a lot of quality time there. Also, I failed to bring a cooler to stock up on goodies.

(Assorted deliciousness available at the WSM.)

Based on SK's research, for lunch we headed to Johnathan Sawyer's Noodlecat, a ramen joint just around the corner from the his other excellent restaurant, Greenhouse Tavern. And since this post has already gone on for too long. I'll keep it simple. If you're in Cleveland, eat here. The ramen bowls are big, creative, and delicious (that's the pork belly bowl below, with rice "tater tots") and they have the to-die-for chicken wings similar to those served at Greenhouse. (Note, they are a little different, but still richly flavorful and fall-off-the-bone amazing.)

Finally, I really enjoyed their decor...a series of comic book-style paintings of a battle between the evil "Processasarus" and the hero of our story, Noodlecat. Awesome. Jonathan Sawyer and crew are are totally cool, and turning out some really delicious, really fun food.

So, Cleveland, as they say, rocks. Get thee to Noodlecat, order the kimchee salad, the chicken wings, and oh, the pickled veggie assortment was great as well. Pickled quail egg? Who knew you were so delicious?

Kohlrabi "Latkes"

2011-10-18T12:38:00.000-07:00

Every Sunday evening, I get together with my sister and brother-in-law for dinner and some HBO viewing at what they've deemed "Sunday Night Wind Down." They've been hosting the Wind Down almost every week for the last several years, as they've moved from New York to Philadelphia to Columbus. It's an ideal way to start the week/end the weekend, especially since my bro-in-law also loves to cook and we work rather well together in the kitchen.

The soundtrack for our kitchen work varies from "This American Life" episodes to '90s hip-hop to obscure indie bands, depending on who is DJing. Wine and microbrews flow, several hunks of cheese get eaten while we're cooking, and we'll then troop into the living room to eat and catch up on the lives of the Stackhouses, Atlantic City gangsters, or the Starks of Winterfell.

Because the sibs and I both have CSA shares, we've got a lot of vegetables at our disposal, and it can be a challenge to find interesting ways to use some of our products. Like kohlrabi, for example. It made a good slaw earlier this summer, but now that it's cooler, slaw is less appealing, and roasting...well, we do roasting with a ton of other veggies already. After putting some thought into it, I realized that we could probably shred the kohlrabi and make it into faux-potato pancakes. We had a plethora of fresh dill on hand, so that was chopped up and added to the kohlrabi as well as the sour cream topping.

Mixed with some egg, flour, and shaped into finger sized cakes, the kohlrabi fried up nicely to serve as an amuse bouche while we worked on the rest of dinner. (For the record, it was this outstanding deconstructed pumpkin ravioli.) I would imagine that this would be equally good with any shred-able root veg--turnip? Rutabaga? Additionally, you could use whatever fresh herbs you have on hand to season it. It's pretty hard to screw up pan fried anything...

Kohlrabi "Latkes"

Latkes:
2 kohlrabi, peeled and shredded
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
2 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon fresh dill, chopped
pepper

Topping:
1/2 cup sour cream
1-2 tsp dill
salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon (more or less) lemon juice

1. Toss shredded kohlrabi with salt and allow to sit for 20-30 to drain excess moisture. Squeeze out as much liquid as possible. Add eggs, flour, dill, and pepper, stir to combine.

3. Combine the sour cream, dill, salt and pepper, and lemon juice to taste and keep in the fridge to allow flavors to blend.

2. In a skillet, heat a couple tablespoons of oil to medium heat. Form the kohlrabi into loosely packed cakes 1-2 inches in diameter and saute on both sides until browned.

4. Remove from heat, place on a paper towel to drain excess oil and top with a dollop of sour cream. Serve at your next fancy party or a weeknight dinner.

Feeling Cheeky? Try Some Braised Beef Cheeks!

2011-09-22T12:56:00.000-07:00

It's damn near impossible (at least for me) to take a picture of braised meat that looks half way decent, but you'll just have to trust that it tastes amazing.

Beef cheeks, you ask? Are those what I think they are? Yes, they are on-the-face-cheeks, not rear-end-cheeks. They're a tough, fat and sinew-marbled piece of meat, and are surprisingly big, as evidenced below:

Big hunks of meat, huh? (And that's just two.) Anyway, somewhere along the way I read an article about beef cheeks and decided to give them a go. After talking to the fine folks at Bluescreek Farms, I pre-ordered a "bunch" of cheeks and picked them up a week later...A bunch turned out to be about five and a half pounds for $18. A pretty good bargain, I'd say.

I took home my bag o'cheeks and surfed the internet for ideas. (Not happening: The French Laundry's "Tongue in Cheek"--not because I'm anti-tongue, but I was really not interested in a three day project.)

Essentially, you can treat these like you would a pot roast or a Boston Butt (if we're talking pork): season, sear, then braise low and slow for four or five hours. I went with a classic pot-roast flavor profile: sauteed onions, garlic, and celery in bacon fat (would have used carrots had I had them on hand), with a handful of whatever fresh herbs I had in the pots out front, some wine, tomatoes, and beef broth. (I used this Epicurious recipe as a jumping-off point.)

To prep the cheeks for cooking you have to trim the excess fat and silver skin off them (NB: make sure your knives are sharpened when you do this, it's a pain--and potentially dangerous--with dulled knives!), and cut them into manageable chunks. At this point, I decided to just cook about two and a half pounds of the cheeks and save the rest for another day.

Then, as I said, you season the meat really well with salt and pepper, sear it on all sides in a Dutch oven (or large pot with a lid) in olive oil or bacon grease (ANOTHER reason to save your bacon grease, see also these cookies), then remove the darkly browned meat, and cook the onions, celery, garlic, and carrots until soft. Add some broth and scrape up all the fond-y goodness (fond: a deposit of caramelized sugars, carbohydrates, and/or proteins forms on the bottom of the pan, along with any rendered fat, sucs, in French) since that's where a lot of your really great flavor is going to come from. Add the meat back to the pot, a little more broth, the tomatoes, whatever herbs/spices you have on hand, and put it all in the oven at about 300 degrees and ignore it for the bulk of your day.

It's done when you stick a fork in the meat and it falls apart. If you want to, you can remove the meat and simmer the cooking liquid until it reduces to more of a sauce, at which point I strongly encourage you to have a loaf of crusty bread on hand for dipping purposes. Severed over rice (as in the picture above) it's delicious, served over homemade pasta (or egg noodles or gnocchi) it's incredible. Leftovers are better the next day if you pop it in the fridge then reheat it in the oven.

So, get thee to your butcher, order up some beef cheeks and try your hand at one of nature's under-appreciated cuts. Your taste buds, your friends (and your wallet) will thank you.

It's Not About the Bike...Until It Is...

2011-09-14T11:01:00.000-07:00

Hey! A post not about food!

Sometime earlier this year, I decided to make the switch from being a runner (ha!) to being a triathlete (double ha!). Partially it was because I started swimming at my gym and remembered how much I enjoyed it and partially because I finally got a bike (free! from a friend!), but mostly because I was really starting to lose interest in the running-for-a-long-Fing-time thing.

I dipped my toe in the proverbial (and literal) water at a mini-sprint in July and had a blast. It was a .25 mile swim, a 7 mile bike, and a 2 mi. run. I did the whole thing in under an hour and felt pretty spectacular about myself. So much so that I signed up for a "regular" sprint (.4, 15, 3.1) that I completed last weekend. ...It was an altogether different experience. But, like every good race, it was a learning one. And now, at no cost to you, I'm going to share what I learned during that long, somewhat painful triathlon, so that you might learn from my mistakes.

1. This first one's a no-brainer: Don't underestimate the value of training. I was doing really well for a while on 2/3 of the program...swimming and biking several times a week, usually longer than the race distance. What I wasn't doing was running. And I'm apparently one of those people who immediately lose her running chops if she doesn't stay on top of things. (sigh) And since I failed to do a complete trial tri before the race, I was not as aware as I should have been that transitioning from bike to run would have been painful. Like jelly-legs-for-the-first-mile painful. Lesson learned: more running, and less sleeping in and pie eating in the few weeks before the race.

2. Those guys in the bike-repair tent are there to help you. Use them. My current set of wheels is a mountain bike with road tires on it....which is fine, but generates a degree of insecurity when you're surrounded by dudes with bikes that look like they were borrowed from Lance Armstrong's bike corral...never mind the sleek helmets with the pointed back-ends they were all rocking. But I digress.

For some time prior to this, my bike had been doing this squeaky/rubbing thing where the brake pad meets the disk brake...probably because I take the front tire on and off when I'm loading it my car and it doesn't realign properly. Race day rolled around and I thought "eh, it'll be fine. How bad could a little extra friction be?" Answer: Real bad. When you're pedaling like a mad woman on a flat, smooth highway in your lowest gear and a fat kid in a BeerFest t-shirt passes you on some sort of hybrid/cruiser bike, you know something isn't right. Moral of the story: something out-of-whack on your bike? Take it to the race-day bike guys and let them take a look. They can probably save you some time, effort, and a lot of unnecessary exertion. (And also, don't snap judge the guy in the BeerFest t-shirt...there's no telling what he's capable of.)

3. Finally, doing a triathlon with a cold is hard. If you can avoid contracting any sort of respiratory illness the night before your race, I would strongly advise it.

All that aside, when I was done (in barely under two hours...oof), I felt like I'd accomplished something...even though I knocked over an ENTIRE bike rack full of bikes when I came into the transition are for the run. (Sorry! Sorry!) Besides, I learned a whole lot and will be better prepared for the next race. All I need now is one of those sleek, sporty bike helmets...

Food, Love, and Impeccable Timing

2011-09-07T11:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, the universe conspires so perfectly to create a weekend of such magnitude and blessings, that it is nothing short of breathtaking. Sometimes, the love, passion, and joy of six people is so great that a seventh one decides she has to join the party. That was the case this weekend, when I went up to Petoskey, on the far Northern tip of Michigan, to visit my very pregnant friend B, her husband, and his father and brothers that also happened to be in town.

Being that we're a group of people for whom food shortages are not an option (and because I couldn't sleep at 6am that morning), I brought up a peach-cardamom coffee cake, based essentially on this Cook's Illustrated recipe from The New Best Recipe cookbook.

I should have known I had no need for such worries as a lack of baked goods, however, as B married into an amazing family of very accomplished bakers and cooks, and for dinner that first night they 'threw' together a meal of homemade focaccia, ratatouille, and Gorgonzola pasta. It was an outstanding way to start a long weekend and was only the beginning of three days of non-stop eating.

You Can Never Have Enough Pie

My dear friend, three weeks shy of her due date, felt inspired to make a peach pie for dessert, and then figured that we should probably have a coconut cream pie from the local bakery, just in case. (There were four grown men in the house after all, one of whom had just finished a cross-country bike trip, and two others had just biked up the coast of Michigan.)

Good Campaigning

The coconut pie came from Jesperson's, and the baker is aparently running for mayor...clearly he is smart enough to know that every pie is a possible vote. Both pies were delicious...B's peach pie was full of sweet, locally grown peaches in a buttery crust, and the coconut cream was a fluffy, creamy decadence that had me licking the plate. (I wish I was kidding about that last part.)

The bulk of the weekend then passed in a lazy series of coffee (or wine, depending on the time of day) drinking, porch sitting, reading, catching up, and farmer's market shopping. To try to balance it out, I joined the boys on a twenty mile bike ride around Little Traverse Bay, with a pit stop for bloody Mary's halfway through. (One must stay hydrated, you know.)

Sunday rolled around and the house full of chefs/bakers began prepping for an end-of-the-weekend feast. Shortly before B and I were about to bottle two cases of a home brewed pale ale, however, she and her husband ran to the hospital for what they relayed to us was a minor issue. Her parting words were "I'm sure we'll be back in a little bit." Mildly concerned, but not too worried, the remaining gentlemen and I bottled the beer (she'd be so pleased to come home and find it done!) and set to work prepping dinner.

Italian Pillow Bread (or was it Feather Bread?)

D baked a beautiful Italian bread to accompany our dinner of a (giant) roasted pork loin with onions and apples. And then, just because it's what he does, he made several dozen oatmeal-cherry cookies.

Almond-Apricot Tart

His brother, J, took care of the pork, and made not one, but two desserts: an almond-apricot tart from 1,000 Italian Recipes and roasted peaches with amaretti cookies. I threw together a panzanella salad, we all drank several glassed of wine, and waited to hear from our hosts.

Amaretti Peaches

And then we got the call. It seemed that the newest member of the family would be joining us that evening, as an unscheduled and rather early arrival. Dinner, while incredibly delicious, was eaten in a hurry, then we cleaned up the kitchen and booked it to the hospital. Food is the centerpiece of every culture's celebrations the world over, and that night we were no different. We showed up in B's room with the tart, peaches, and leftovers for the new dad, welcoming the tiny, beautiful M just a few short hours after her birth with dessert, hugs, and a few tears.

While it's obviously scary that B had to go in for emergency surgery to bring her daughter into the world, I'd like to think that sweet, little M decided that she had heard enough of the fun going on around her all weekend and made an executive decision to join the party. Like her parents, she clearly appreciates a good gathering of friends and food, and realized that with a couple of uncles, a grandfather, and a good friend in town, she might as well make an appearance. We are so incredibly glad that she did.

And so, M, welcome to our world: you have an wonderful and loving of family and group of friends who are thrilled that you joined us ahead of schedule. I look forward to getting to know you, can't wait to watch you grow up and am excited to share some quality kitchen time with you. See you soon!

Food From a Truck is the Best Food: Food Truck and Cart Fest 2011

2011-08-29T06:58:00.000-07:00

While the East Coast was battening down the hatches, 12,000 Central-Ohioans came out to the Columbus Commons to celebrate the awesomeness that is food truck culture. Some of the local stand-bys were there, (Mikey's Late Night Slice, Jeni's, The Cheesy Truck) as well as some out of towners/newer offerings (Flippin' Eggroll, Kolache Republic, Lotsa Lobstah). What follows then, is a collection of images of what turned out to be a delicious and weather-perfect evening.

Taking orders at Flippin' Eggroll.

Teriyaki chicken and Ruben Egg rolls. Both were delicious.

Mojo TaGO had lines the whole night. But then, I think everyone did...

"Meating" up at The Sublime Smoker

The Paddy Wagon

Pulled pork from the Paddy Wagon

Scallops from The Munch Box

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Munch Box.

Tacos from Juniors!

Lobster Rolls!!!!!

Smoothies and more from Earth's Crust/Crazy Monkey

A fine looking sandwich from The Pickled Swine

The gents from Kolache Republic

Sausage, cheese, and jalapeno kolache...amazing!

Chatting with customers at The Pickled Swine

You know a man with a mustache like that can make a mean sandwich.

The Mikey's crew were slinging pies non-stop.

...Which was good, because the line didn't end.

And there was entertainment, of course.

...And plenty of beverages

Ordering wraps from The Munch Box

At The Picked Swine

Free pictures

The Hodge Podge Truck

Jeni's kept everybody cool

Boston Bert's Seafood

Fried fish, shrimp, and more!

The Sublime Smoker...

The Lobster, Considered (Then Eaten)

2011-08-19T12:17:00.000-07:00

Lobsters. Spiders of the sea. Bottom-dwelling bugs whose flesh requires an array of tools and a healthy supply of brute force to access. When you think about it, they seem an unlikely candidate as a luxury foodstuff, and, as David Foster Wallace pointed out in his 2004 essay Consider the Lobster, they were originally considered a cheap and plentiful source of protein for the poor.

Now, of course, they're for special occasions and seaside treats. Or, if you have a couple friends who are willing to pitch in some cash for your crustaceans, backyard dinner parties.

A girlfriend requested lobster rolls after seeing my prior post about Rhode Island: soft, top-sliced buns stuffed with a mixture of lobster meat, mayo, and green onions. Here in central Ohio, we have a surprisingly large number of lobster purveyors, including The Fish Guys at The North Market, and The Lobstah Shack in Mt. Vernon...someplace I've not had the opportunity to try, but have been informed is nothing short of an exceptional place to pick up lobsters that have been personally driven in from Maine by Shack owner Brett Fletcher.

Since a trip to Knox County wasn't in the cards for us this time around, The Fish Guys were our guys, recommending a couple pounds of shelled, cooked lobster meat for the rolls. For extra lobster fun, we picked up a live one as well, and brought him (her?) home in a Styrofoam box.

The salad itself was extremely easy to throw together: lobster, just enough mayo to hold it together, some Old Bay seasoning, and chopped green onions. Some salt and pepper to taste and then into the fridge to let the flavors meld.

We buttered the buns and toasted them on a grill, lined them with some bibb lettuce and stuffed them with the lobster and voila--we're were transported to the East Coast, listening to seagulls cry and watching the waves crash on the beach. ...Or maybe that was the sound of sirens the police helicopter on the Southside.

The second half of our lobster duo required a little more work. And a little more guts. There's not many foods out there that you kill in your kitchen, claws snapping and legs moving, dropped in a pot of steam and boiling water. It had been since college since I'd done a proper lobster boil, and ocean spider or not, there was a moment of realized mortality when I dropped him into his steam bath.

Fifteen minutes or so later, he came out, bright red and ready for dis-assembly. Unfortunately, I realized at the last second that I do not own any of the necessary tools for lobster deconstruction. Fortunately, a ransacking of the utensil drawer produced an array of implements that could act as crackers, wackers, and pokers. The lobster was quickly taken apart and passed around, dipped in butter and lemon juice, shells and other pieces scattered around the table, a delicious victim of rather enthusiastic bludgeoning-by-ice-cream-scoop.

If you now find yourself craving a lobster roll, you're in luck: The Hills Market is holding their summer Lobster Days for the next several Saturdays. Call them to reserve a seating and enjoy a little bit of Maine right here in Columbus.

And if you're in the mood for cooking your own, I'm more than happy to offer my services to help you dispatch them. Just save me a claw.

Periodic Table of Brownies: The Limit of My Scientific Understanding

2011-08-17T06:17:00.000-07:00

When I first started college, I was pretty convinced I was going to go into medicine, psychiatry, to be precise, and started my freshman year on the pre-med track. This meant biology, chemistry, and their accompanying labs. Somewhere in the middle of the second semester, I realized that I was terrible at chemistry, and even the help of a tutor (who patiently and repeatedly walked me through chemical reactions and equations) was not enough to get me much past a low C. Thankfully, I did have the brains to realize my talents lay in the humanities, and made the switch to history and foreign languages. Life (and my grade point) got back on track.

Since then, however, I've always had a deep appreciation/admiration for the sciences, and those individuals that make them their profession....doctors, physicists, chemists, biologists...they all do things that my literature-minded brain can barely grasp. So when Dan Siegal-Gaskins founded the Columbus Science Pub last year, I was excited to dip my toes in some not-to-deep scientific waters and revisit my short-lived science education.

The Pub is based on the international Science Cafe concept: people get together to share a topic or variety of topics of a scientific nature in a low key, casual setting. Dan, a mathematical biosciences post-doc at Ohio State, found a home for the Columbus group at Hampton's on Third, and began setting up a monthly roster of presenters from around Columbus and the nation.

Sadly, Dan is moving on to another post-doc and his last pub was this past week. The crew that's taking over his organizing responsibilities decided to send him off in the most appropriate way we know how: nerdy foodstuffs. A couple of us split the periodic table into halves and made brownie squares for about 48 of the elements. (We picked what we considered the 'good' elements....none of those 'invented-in-a-lab-for-two-seconds deals.)

What was amusing was watching the Science Pub guests pick their brownies--they actually would study them and consider which element they wanted to eat, as if Caesium might taste better than Beryllium.

If you're looking for a different (and educational!) way to spend a random Tuesday night, and you want to get your science-geek on, we'd love to have you join us at the Pub. For further information, check out our Facebook page (Columbus Science Pub).

Maybe next month I'll tackle Krebs Cycle Cupcakes...

Lobster Rolls, Cheese, and Cocktail Dresses: 36 Hours in Rhode Island

2011-08-01T10:44:00.000-07:00

Like a scene from the predictably cheesy Jim Carey flick "The Yes Man," sometimes you just have to say yes to an invitation...no matter how ambitious or bizarre. If the invitation is to drive from Columbus, Ohio to Providence, Rhode Island and back in a weekend, a brief consideration of the logistics is understandable, but then I strongly suggest that you say yes, pack a bag and book a room.

I was presented with this very invitation, with the goal of visiting the Rhode Island School of Design to see the last days of an exhibition on cocktail dresses and accouterments. A few weeks later, I found myself in a car with a girlfriend, blasting our way Cannonball Run-style across Pennsylvania and up the coast to Providence.

Our first stop on our brief tour of Rhode Island was RISD, were we were treated to an incredibly well curated exhibition illustrating the history of cocktail culture, from its roots in the 1920s to its retro-revival popularity today. Cocktail dresses, shoes, jewelry, hats, and barwear reflected the mood of each period of American history, from the independent, frivolous fringe of the 1920's flapper, to the somber, sensible, ration-material frocks of the war-torn 1940s. Photographs, posters, and other ephemera (including a charming collection of vintage matchbooks) accompanied the articles of clothing, helping to place everything on display into context. Of course, we both spent some time picking our favorite gowns. Pictured to the right, one of my favorites, the "Yvette," c. 1950. (Photo courtesy of RISD.)

From there, we headed out of Providence to have lunch in Newport. Had we been paying a little more attention, we would have realized that the Newport Folk Festival was also happening that weekend, but we, frankly, were more interested in obtaining some oysters and lobster rolls...both of which we enjoyed at The Landing, one of the numerous restaurants overlooking the boat-filled harbor.

....now THAT is a lobster roll that would make any New Englander proud. (Unless you're the type who prefers the buttered lobster instead of the mayo. And yes, you're right, those are good too.)

Combined with a couple Blue Point and Plum Point oysters, we were fortified and ready for a walk through town, enjoying the smell of the ocean and the coastal breeze. Sadly, we were unable to convince anyone to give us a ride on their yacht. Maybe next time.

We returned to the hotel for a brief respite, then headed back to downtown Providence for dinner at La Laiterie, a farm-to-table restaurant (and cheese shop!) started in 2006 by husband and wife chef team Matt and Kate Jennings. Their focus is simple, flavorful dishes made with locally sourced ingredients, and deserts that Kate makes from scratch. The cheese shop, Farmstead, offers insanely good domestic and imported cheeses, that you can purchase to take home, or enjoy on a cheese plate in the restaurant.

We were first placed in the care of cheesemonger Darren Montgomery, who guided us through a tasting of various cheeses, before helping us select several to take home. The man knows his cheese, and was incredibly patient when our response to "what kind of cheese do you like" was a resounding "EVERYTHING!" The highlights included a blue cheese made with goat's milk and a brie whose flavor and richness was worlds away from the store-brand brie you can find at your local grocery.

Two pounds of assorted cheese purchases later, we went on to the actual business of dinner, starting with plates of seared Vermont chicken livers and onion rings (below) and fried sweetbreads paired with braised radishes, anchovies, and watermelon. Both dishes were fantastic, and give a great name to offal.

Round two was a small plate daily special of barbecued octopus and pork belly with corn puree and a whole branzino, stuffed with spinach and onions, and surrounded by summer veggies and fried garlic chips. The octopus/belly was rich and meaty, the fish was light and delicate. Unbelievably good. It should come as no surprise, I suppose, that the belly was something out of porcine-lovers dream, as Chef Matt has won the Boston-area Cochon 555--a travelling pork cooking competition--three years running.

Since we ran our of room for desert, we took home a couple of Chef Kate's creations--a pecan pie bar and a berry crumble, and enjoyed them for breakfast the following day. And yes, as talented as Matt is with dinner, Kate is with dessert. Buttery, rich, and delicious, her bakery treats were the perfect starter for our long drive back back to Columbus. What was especially satisfying was realizing that La Laiterie is just one of several restaurants (including Cook & Brown, Persimmon, and Tallulah on Thames) dedicated to bringing delicious and thoughtful dining to the people of Rhode Island. It's enough to make me consider going back for another visit, but this time, maybe I'll fly....

Patio Paella Party!

2011-07-26T06:35:00.000-07:00

With almost every issue of Bon Appetit or Saveur that I get, there's always at least one recipe that catches my eye and holds on with an obsessive make-me-right-now quality that doesn't abate until I, in fact, drop all other plans I may have had and set to work. Last month's Bon Appetit had an article on grilled lobster paella, and before I even finished the story I was already mentally calculating what ingredients I had in my pantry. I managed to hold off on firing up the grill until a Friday evening, when I was able to wrangle up some friends to come eat it all. The great thing about paella--especially on the grill--is that you can prep everything before hand, and just add to the pans while you sip cocktails on the patio with your guests. It doesn't require a great deal of careful attention, in fact, you eventually want to stop touching the paella altogether and let the rice at the bottom of the dish crisp up and caramelize into the delicious socarrat.

The BA article includes a list of authentic ingredients including Valencia or bomba rice and Spanish chorizo. Since this was a last minute dinner and I didn't put much forethought into ordering specialty ingredients, I used risotto and Mexican chorizo and they worked just as well. (Don't have smoked paprika on hand? Regular paprika and some cayenne, or ground chipotle pepper will work.) Likewise, as much as I love my friends, I wasn't about to drop a wad of cash on lobsters for them (sorry, kids), so I used shrimp, some chicken thighs that I quickly pre-seared on the stove before putting in the paella, and some crab claws that were on sale at the grocery. (Me: "These are on super sale...is there something wrong with them?" Fish guy: "No, but you should probably eat them tonight.")

The exception to this cheapness is saffron--find a reputable spice merchant (Penzey's, North Market Spices) and buy some of the good stuff. Don't use turmeric, it's not the same. A little saffron goes a long way, so while it is pricey, it will last you a while.

Use the recipe at the link above as a starting ground for your paella, and remember that short of completely scorching the bottom of the dish, there's very little you can do to screw it up. Play with ingredients, use what's on sale or what looks good at the market. Other things that are delicious in paella? Mussels, clams, and crab legs are all great, just nestle them into the rice when you have about 10 minutes left to go. If you're using chicken, put that it after you add the broth, since it will need to cook a little longer.

Finally, if you're going to go through the effort of making paella, it's only fair to accompany it with a suitable beverage. Pour a bottle of red wine into a pitcher, add half a cup of sugar, a quarter cup of brandy, a couple handfuls of whatever fruit you have on hand, a slug or so of Grand Marnier (if you're feeling extra boozy, a splash of orange juice if you're not), and top it all with some soda water. Pour over ice ,enjoy with friends and a giant plate of smokey, seafood-y paella, and revel in summer.

Grilled Lobster Paella from Bon Appetit

Kohlrabi and Turnip Slaw: Trust Me, It's Great

2011-07-13T10:20:00.000-07:00

Right now you're probably saying one of two things: 1) what the hell is kohlrabi? or 2) a slaw of random root vegetables? Meh...I'll pass. But I strongly encourage you to read on, before you miss out on a lovely and refreshing summer slaw.

Kohlrabi is a member of the cabbage family, and comes in a variety of colors. It has a rather alien-looking appearance, with the leaves shooting off and up the sides of the bulb. (Both the bulb and the leaves are edible.) Smaller kohlrabi have a mild crunch reminicient of cabbage, but the bulbs get woody as they get bigger.

These particular kohlrabi came from the wonderful folks at Wayward Seed Farm. Adam and Jaime's CSA is always interesting, as they cultivate heirloom vegetables that encourage you to try something new and different ...you're not just going to get lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers from them. (Full confession: I spent a morning on the back of a tractor, planting these kohlrabi at the Wayward Seed Farm when they were nothing but seedlings. There really is something deeply satisfying about eating something that you helped to cultivate.)

I sat on these guys for a few days before stumbling across a slaw recipe in an old issue of Body & Soul Magazine. (I don't know, someone sent me a subscription a few years ago.) Since I had some turnips from the week before that needed some love, I threw together a slaw based on the recipe in the magazine. It was sweet, sour, crunchy, and above all, a cooling dish for the hot summer days we've been having. (Plus, it takes about 10 minutes to throw together.) Feel free to tweak the ingredients as you see fit...there's really no wrong way to make this. (This would be delish as a topping for tacos, too...just a thought...)

Sweet & Sour Kohlrabi and Turnip Slaw

Ingredients:

3 kohlrabi bulbs, peeled (about 1 lb...save the leaves for sauteing later)

2-3 turnips, peeled (about half a pound, or whatever you have on hand)

1/4 cup (or so) chopped cilantro (or parsley works too)

2-3 scallions, chopped

1/4 cup lime juice

3 tablespoons honey

dash of cayanne pepper (optional, if you like it spicy)

4 tablespoons olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

1. Shred the kohlrabi and turnips on a box grater, or with the shred disk on a food processor.

2. Combine the shredded veggies, cilantro, and scallions in a medium bowl.

3. In a small dish, combine the lime juice, honey, olive oil, and seasonings...taste as you go, adding honey if you need more sweetness, etc.

4. Pour over the veggies and toss thoroughly. Let it rest in the fridge for 20 minutes or so to let the flavors blend (or not, if you're starving).

5. If you're feeling really fancy, top with some chopped honey-roasted peanuts.

Spring Pea "Hummus" with Shaved Parmesan

2011-07-05T07:15:00.000-07:00

In last week's Wayward Seed CSA share, I received about a pound of unshelled English peas. After freeing them from their pods, I was left with a bowlful of tiny, beautiful, bright green orbs and decided that since there were so few of them, I needed to really showcase their flavor.

I remembered that Chef John Dornback of Basi Italia had offered a pea puree appetizer at the Taste of Dine Originals event, and decided to use that dish as inspiration. They had served the lightly mashed peas on a single-serving spoon topped with shaved Parmesan. Since I had just purchased a baguette from Omega Bakery at the North Market (not-so shameless plug: Go there! Get their bread! It's amazing!), I decided throw together a pea and Parmesan "hummus" to spread on said bread.

Twenty minutes later, I had a party-worthy appetizer that looked and tasted of early summer. The sweetness of the peas is balanced by the salty Parmesan and the mellow bite of the onions and garlic scapes. Some fresh ground pepper adds a tiny bite, and the lemon juice brightens the whole dish.

Since pea season is (sadly) winding down/practically over here in Ohio, I would recommend you use thawed, frozen peas. They'll work just as well, and taste just as delicious.

Spring Pea "Hummus" with Shaved Parmesan

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups shelled fresh peas, or thawed frozen peas
2 garlic scapes or 2 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
4 green onions or 1 scallion, roughly chopped
1/4 lb (or 1 cup, shredded) Parmesan cheese
3 tablespoons cream or half & half
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste
Baguette, thinly sliced and toasted, if desired

Directions:
1. In a skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil and a tablespoon of butter, and saute the peas, scapes/garlic, and scallions, if using. Cook them only until the peas are softened and bright green.

2. Pour the sauteed pea mixture into a food processor, and add the green onions (if using), lemon juice, cream, and about 1/4 cup of the Parmesan. Puree until smooth, adding more cream if necessary, and salt and pepper to taste.

3. Brush the baguette slices with a little olive oil, top with a spoonful of pea puree and add a sprinkle of Parmesan (if shredded), or use a vegetable peeler to create shavings.

4. Share with friends at your next cookout or party.

Summertime Sippin': Basilchello!

2011-06-28T10:41:00.000-07:00

Patience is most definitely not one of my virtues. I tend to want things done yesterday, and nothing makes me happier than finding a more efficient way to do something. Yet sometimes, as they say, good things come to those who wait...as I've discovered with homebrewing and now, infused alcohols.

I stumbled across a recipe for basilchello (like lemonchello, but with basil) a few weeks ago during my schitzophrenic internet wanderings and it seemed to me a good excuse to use some of my ever-proliferating basil and buy some high proof alcohol without looking like a college kid prepping for a Hairy Buffalo party. ("It's for a classy recipe!")

The original recipe (here), calls for 190-proof grain alcohol, but since the copper still in my basement is on the fritz, I substituted 151. If using a lower proof, taste as you go when you're adding the simple syrup, to make sure you don't over-sweeten it.

The longer you let the basil infuse the alcohol, the more potent the flavor...I held off for about two weeks, then combined everything last night. And yes, it was definitely worth the wait.

Here's what you do:

Basilchello

Ingredients:
20-30 basil leaves, gently cleaned
1 bottle 151 proof Everclear (or 190 if you can get it)
1lb sugar
3 cups water

Directions:
1. Combine the alcohol and basil leaves in a glass container with a sealable lid. Turn the bottle a few times a day for 14-20 days. The liquid should turn bright green within a few hours.

2. After the infusing period is up, mix together the sugar and water in a saucepan and cook until sugar is thoroughly dissolved. Turn off heat and allow to cool completely. If you want, add additional basil leaves to the simple syrup and allow them to infuse.

3. Combine the simple syrup and alcohol in a large bowl, then strain into bottles/containers of your choice. Place in the freezer until thoroughly chilled and enjoy on the porch after dinner.

Looking for additional cocktail inspiration? Check out this list of summer delights from The Spotted Pig in NYC: Yay Summer!

Strawberry-Basil Ice Cream: Because You're Tired of Making Pesto

2011-06-20T05:28:00.000-07:00

Clearly, I am a woman possessed. Or bored. Or one with too much cream, strawberries, and basil on her hands.

Using the same techniques I used for the Rhubarb-Rosemary Ice Cream, I threw together this batch of deliciousness with my last remaining strawberries and a big handful of basil. I'm pretty sure this is what summer tastes like.

Strawberry-Basil Ice Cream

Ingredients:

3 cups or so strawberries, sliced

1 c. sugar (divided--3/4 and 1/4)

1 c. water

1 1/2 c. heavy cream

1 1/2 c. whole milk

10-12 basil leaves

2 tbls. corn starch

2 tbls. cream cheese

1. Combine strawberries, 3/4 c. sugar, and water in a saucepan. Cook on medium-high heat until strawberries are soft, and a syrup is starting to form, skimming off foam. (About 5 minutes.) Puree mix in blender/food processor. Place strawberry puree in fridge, stirring occasionally until cool--about two hours. (This time around, I popped it in the freezer and stirred occasionally, cutting the cooling time down to about 30 minutes.)

2. In a small dish, whisk together the corn starch and 2 tbls. of the milk. In a saucepan, combine the cream, remaining milk, and basil leaves. Bring to a boil then simmer for about 5 minutes, before turning off the heat and allowing thebasil to steep. The longer you do this, the more intense the flavor...I ended up letting it sit for about half an hour.

3. Bring the milk/cream mixture back up to a simmer, add the remaining 1/4 c. of sugar, stirring to dissolve. Remove the basil leaves and whisk in the corn starch slurry (it will thicken pretty quickly...don't stop whisking!), remove from heat, and add the cream cheese, stirring until it is melted through.

4. Reserve 1 cup of the strawberry puree for later use, whisk the remaining puree into the cream, then place in the fridge to cool for several hours/overnight.

5. Pour into your ice cream maker and follow the manufacturer's instructions.

6. Once churned, pour soft serve into a container and freeze for several hours. Spoon into bowls, top with some of the reserved puree and share with your friends!

Rhubarb Rosemary Ice Cream: Ah. May. Zing!

2011-06-14T06:24:00.000-07:00

Holy damn, I've invented a new flavor! Ok, not really invented, but after scouring the internet (ie, going through the first three Google pages) for "rhubarb rosemary ice cream" and finding Rhubarb-Rosemary Creme Brulee and Rhubarb Rosemary Affogato as the closest thing to ice cream (aside from the several rhubarb crisps-with-rosemary ice cream), I'd like to think that I'm the first to throw these two taste sensations together in an ice cream. If I'm wrong, feel free to let me know. (but in the meantime, I'm going to relish my 'originality.')

Want to know how to make it? Of course you do...it's amazing! The herbal rosemary plays really well with the sweet-sour rhubarb, and eating it is a multi-sensory experience as the rosemary aroma hits your nose before you even get the ice cream in your mouth. It's summery, sophisticated, and sweet, but with just a tinge of savory. Make this and impress your friends/loved ones/complete strangers.

Rhubarb Rosemary Ice Cream

Ingredients:

1 lb or so rhubarb, ends cut off and chopped into pieces

1 c. sugar (divided--3/4 and 1/4)

1 c. water

1 1/2 c. heavy cream

1 1/2 c. whole milk

3-4 sprigs of rosemary

2 tbls. corn starch

2 tbls. cream cheese

1. Combine rhubarb, 3/4 c. sugar, and water in a saucepan. Cook on medium-high heat until rhubarb is broken down, skimming off foam. (About 15-20 minutes.) Puree mixer in blender/food processor. (Confession: I added a few drops of red food gel at this point, to up the color factor a touch...rhubarb can get that brown look going, which is unattractive. Delicious, but ugly.) Place rhubarb puree in fridge, stirring occasionally until cool--about two hours.

2. In a small dish, whisk together the corn starch and 2 tbls. of the milk. In a saucepan, combine the cream, remaining milk, and rosemary sprigs. Bring to a boil then simmer for about 5 minutes, before turning off the heat and allowing the rosemary to steep. The longer you do this, the more intense the flavor...I ended up letting it sit for about half an hour.

3. Bring the milk/cream mixture back up to a simmer, add the remaining 1/4 c. of sugar, stirring to dissolve. Remove the rosemary sprigs and whisk in the corn starch slurry (it will thicken pretty quickly...don't stop whisking!), remove from heat, and add the cream cheese, stirring until it is melted through.

4. Whisk the cooled rhubarb puree to the cream, then place in the fridge to cool for several hours/overnight.

5. Pour into your ice cream maker and follow the manufacturer's instructions.

6. Once churned, pour soft serve into a container and freeze for several hours, saving some to eat at the kitchen counter, for breakfast.

NB: This recipe is based on Jeni Britton Bauer's Strawberry Buttermilk ice cream. (Which I also made, and is equally delicious.) If you want more great ice cream ideas, her cookbook, Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home just came out and you can get it here!

Will Bike for Ice Cream: Snowville Creamery Tour

2011-06-07T11:22:00.000-07:00

An exercise-bike powered ice cream maker.

This past weekend's Ohio Ecological Food and Farm Association (OEFFA) organized tour of Snowville Creamery wasn't all fun and games...someone had to make the ice cream! (Ok, yeah, it really was all fun.)

The first stop on OEFFA's Sustainable Farm Tour series took us to Pomeroy, Ohio to see exactly how Snowville Creamery produces its amazing milk, cream, and ice cream (they make the base for Jeni's!).

Upon arrival, we were greeted by a four piece string band, a table of cookies, chips, and salsa (all locally made!) and an unending supply of Snowville milk (white AND chocolate)!

Honor your partner, honor your corner.

After introductions by pasture and herd owners Bill Dix and Stacy Hall, and Creamery owners Warren and Victoria Taylor, we made our way out to the pastures to see cows doing what they do best: eating grass.

The milk starts here.

From the pastures, we moved to the milking parlor, where Bill showed us where 18 cows at a time get milked twice a day. (They have over 250 milk producing cows right now.) Everything is done by hand and with an eye toward creating a quality product: the cows eat a diet of grass supplemented by an energy-rich feed, the milking process is human run (the milking apparatus is attached and removed by hand, no machines or computers), and the cows are sent back out into the pasture to fertilize the grass for the future. Whey leftover from the process of making milk and cream is even sprayed back onto the fields to create a closed loop system. It's kind of beautiful.

Bill explains the ins and outs of cow milking.

After the milking parlor, we moved into the creamery operations building, where Warren explained the process of turning raw milk into assorted Snowville products, expounding on his passion for good, wholesome food, and the importance of starting a 'revolution' in the US food industry.

Warren Taylor: Food Revolutionary

It couldn't have been a more lovely, educational, and entertaining afternoon. Like many of our local food producers, the folks are Snowville are 100% dedicated to crafting products that are healthy, delicious, and faithful to their Ohio roots. (Keep your eyes open for a Snowville yogurt!) If you want to check out one of our other local farms, here is a PDF with a list of this summer's farm schedule. Thanks to OEFFA, and all the folks at Snowville who hosted such a great event!

A few more pictures:

A sudden storm comes up over the pastures.

Farm hands Anna and Jeremiah head back to the barn.

Snowville posters in dairy headquarters.

Kids and baby farm animals are a great combination.

Joel Salatin Hosts a Game Show: The Food Play at The North Market

2011-06-06T09:58:00.000-07:00

In case you're wondering, that's a lobster roll from DeepWood, and while probably only tangentially related to the main subject of this post, I figured it is as good a way as any to get your attention. (And yes, it was delicious.)

This past Saturday, a friend and I traversed through hail, high winds, and torrential rain to get to the North Market and catch a performance of Available Light Theater's current production, The Food Play. It runs through June 11, so that means there's still time for you to get tickets and go see it.

The Food Play is an original piece born out of the insatiable reading appetite of troupe's member Matt Slaybaugh. Using a series of theatrical devices (skits, a game show, monologues, even a Seinfeld parody), AVLT explores most of the major issues facing our food supply, as examined in books by writers including Michael Pollan, Marion Nestle, and Mark Bittman. The cast of six manages to convey to the audience a huge amount of information pertaining to factory farming, farm subsidies, food deserts, processed foods, and much more in a way that is enlightening and entertaining. Each show also features a Q&A with a local food celebrity; the night I was there it was ice cream queen Jeni Britton Bauer. (Hooray!) Throughout the course of the show, the crew provides treats supplied by local purveyors (focaccia from Omega Bakery, chips and salsa from 2 Caterers, ice cream sandwiches from Jeni's, and more) and ends with an open discussion with the audience.

The Food Play has three more shows this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. If you are even passingly interested in food, live theater, or any combination thereof, I can't encourage you enough to come out and support AVLT's work. Not only will you have the opportunity to see some great performances and enjoy some tasty treats, but you'll also (hopefully) learn a little something about what/how we eat and maybe even be inspired to make a change for the better in your life or community. Don't miss it!

O-Y-Can't I Drink You All the Time?

2011-06-02T05:55:00.000-07:00

Last night, yours truly and her partner-in-crime, the Bro-in-Law hit up MiddleWest Spirits for their Wednesday evening $5 tour and tasting. If you've not heard of MiddleWest and their exceptional spirits, come on out from under that rock, find a bar that serves their OYO (oh-why-oh) products, and prepare to have your idea of clear, "flavorless" vodka redefined.

Started by Brady Konya and Ryan Lang, MiddleWest is the first microdistillery in the city, and dedicated to producing distinctly local spirits: ones whose tastes reflect the very nature of Ohio, while at the same time promote sustainable manufacturing processes and encourage local enterprise. What is inspiring and most notable about Brady and Ryan is how passionate they are about product: they believe profoundly in what they're making, and they believe in making it the best they possibly can. ...And if Maxim, the Beverage Tasting Institute, and glowing write-ups in out-of-state papers, are correct, then these guys are definitely among the best.

Their distillery, just north of the intersection of 5th Ave. and High St., is an open, expansive warehouse with gleaming copper stills at the front and center of the space. Both Brady and Ryan shared tour duties on our visit, coming in and out of the conversation as they addressed the day-to-day business of managing a rapidly growing business. Unlike many distilleries, who fiercely guard their production processes, MiddleWest encourages the community to tour their facility and see exactly what goes into their spirits--most importantly, the soft red winter wheat, sourced from Fostoria, Ohio. The tour is entertaining and informative, and of course ends in a tasting of their flagship vodka (smooth and slightly sweet, with caramel/butterscotch notes), honey-vanilla vodka (smelled like honey, but tasted of sweet vanilla), and whiskey (easy to drink, with a flavor of burnt caramel on the end). Just to keep it fun, they also offer a top-shelf vodka for comparison, and let you draw your own conclusions. (Confession: none of us on the tour bothered finishing our tastes of the top shelf, compared to the OYO, it wasn't worth it!)

We learned that Ryan and Brady have a couple of additional projects coming down the pipe for MiddleWest, and are currently aging their second batch of OYO whiskey (which comes out in June, and runs out fast, so keep your eyes peeled if you want to order a bottle!), so thankfully, these guys are only just getting started. Their dedication to their craft and to the community is inspiring, so show your gratitude by ordering a OYO Vanilla Sidecar or OYO Manhattan and give a toast to our local entrepreneurs...and pour one for me while you're at it.

Thoughts on Tuna: The End of the Spicy Tuna Roll?

2011-05-23T09:37:00.000-07:00

Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild FoodOne of the blogs that I follow on Google Reader is The Ethicuran, a blog devoted to food news, policy, safety, and a general mission to "chew the right thing." It's insightful, critical, and well-balanced, offering thought-provoking articles and managing (for the most part) to avoid preachiness.

A post from this weekend highlights the fact that scientists in Canada have declared the bluefin tuna to be endangered, meaning it faces "imminent extirpation or extinction." Bluefin is the delicious, ruby red tuna (toro) that we eat at sushi restaurants in rolls and nigiri, or sear in large steaks, crusted in sesame seeds. It's delicious: fatty, tender, and rich. Unfortunately, this deliciousness has resulted in a drastic decimation of the tuna population, gigantic fish that can live up to 30 years, grow up to 10 feet long and weigh over a thousand pounds.

Bluefin were also the focus of a book that came out last year, Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food, by Paul Greenberg. In it, he examines four of our most popular wild fish: salmon, tuna, cod, and bass, casting (ha ha) a critical eye on the effect that global harvesting and consumption has on their populations. His bottom line: we are driving these fish to extinction, and it's becoming more and more vital that we humans find an alternative to put on our plates.

Greenberg likens the rapidly depleting tuna populations to another creature that we almost drove to extinction: the whale. Whale hunting for meat and oil bypassed sustainable limits, and whale stocks were not replenished. It was not until 1986 that the International Whaling Commission banned commercial whaling so that populations could recover. Greenberg suggests that maybe this is what we need to do for the the tuna population: ban commercial fishing altogether and give the fish a chance to replenish. Could it work? Probably, but we (especially Americans, the Canadians, Japanese, and Europeans) have developed an insatiable appetite for sushi that is going to be hard to overcome.

Greenberg's book, and now this Ethicurian article, have struck a chord in my sushi-loving heart. Maybe I don't need to eat that cheapo sushi roll from the grocery store, and I'm sure I can find a more sustainable fish to eat at an upscale restaurant. I realize that I am only one person, and probably have very little power over how the fishing industry is going to deal with the loss of tuna populations, but as they say, every little bit helps. Besides, if everyone was just a little more thoughtful about what we put in our mouths, the differences we make could be quite astonishing.

If you're looking for further information on the subject, I would strongly recommend checking out ethicurian.com or picking up Four Fish...I guarantee it will make for some interesting and thought-provoking summer reading.

Ice Cream Obsessed: Insights on Frozen Deliciousness

2011-05-19T11:09:00.001-07:00

It seems that, especially with summer approaching, Columbus is in full blown, can't-get-enough, want-to-see-you-every-night love with ice cream: Mozart's Cafe & Bakery is expanding into the frozen delights biz, Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream has a cookbook coming out in June and her stores are popping up like post-rain mushrooms (a walk up in German Village! an outpost in Chagrin Falls!), and even local criminals want a piece of the action.

So of course, the Ham Sandwich had to try her hand at crafting her own delicious treats. Thanks to my sister and brother-in-law, who got me the ice cream maker attachment for the KitchenAid for Christmas this past year, I've been able to try my hand at a few flavors. And just for the record, while Jeni's is phenominal, and those giant chocolate shards in Graeter's are divine, there is something amazing and deeply satisfying about eating a bowl of your own handcrafted and hand-flavored ice cream.

Having just finished batches No. 3 (White Chocolate Mint) and No. 4 (Brandied Cherry and Chocolate), I feel safe in offering a few suggestions to those who want to give it a shot. Believe it or not, making ice cream is not really that hard (especially if you have a mixer to do all the hard work), it just requires a little time and attention (and planning ahead). So, find a recipe and give it a go. Let me know how it turns out!

Pro Tip 1: You can use 2% milk instead of heavy cream and whole milk, but unsurprisingly, you're going to have a different result. I had a container of 2% on hand and was too lazy to run to the store to get heavy cream for the recipe below, so I used all 2% in the recipe. It turned out fine--thumbs up from the coworkers--but was definitely missing the creamy texture that you get with (duh) cream.

Salted Carmel Ice Cream with Dark Chocolate Chips

Pro Tip 2: Low, slow, and constant! When you add the eggs/sugar to the heated milk, make sure you keep the burner on low and continuously--seriously, don't stop!--stir the heating custard. Two things will happen: 1) you can actually get a feel for the custard as it thickens, which will help you gauge when to take it off the heat, and 2) you'll keep it from sticking to the bottom. As soon as the custard coats the back of a spoon, pull it off the heat...you can go from custard to curdled pretty quickly. ....And if it does curdle, pour your custard through a strainer to get the lumps out. (Actually, do this no matter what, it's just a good practice with any thing you may want smooth: custard, gravy, sauces, etc.)

Pro Tip 3: When using fruit or large berries, give them a good chop and a toss with some sugar before you add them to the custard. I added whole blackberries to the custard I made on batch No. 1, and ended up with large, frozen chunks of berry in my ice cream. Also, since I didn't macerate them with sugar before I added them, they tended to just-slightly-the-wrong side of tartness. Lesson learned.

Blackberry Ice Cream (from the KitchenAid manual)

Pro Tip 4: If adding anything larger than some chopped up mint leaves, wait until the custard is finished churning, pour it into a bowl, and then fold in your chips/nuts/berries/what have you before letting the "soft serve" set in the freezer. When I dumped the (large, unsweetened) berries into the ice cream maker, it just ended pushing them around the bowl, and did not really distribute them evenly. Maybe this was just due to the small size of my operation, but still, folding everything together in a bowl just makes it easier.

Alrighty, that's what I have so far, but I've no doubt that as this little experiment continues, I'll pick up some other insights...here's to ice cream season!

Taste of Dine Originals: A Food Fiend's Nirvana

2011-05-13T11:13:00.000-07:00

One of the tough parts about my part-time "job" as food blogger is trying to keep up with the assorted dining events here in Columbus. ....Yes, you're right, it's exhausting, but I do what I can to keep you all informed.

Last night (courtesy of Mama Ham Sandwich) I had the privilege of attending the Taste of Dine Originals event, proceeds from which went to the Buckeye Ranch. Fifty restaurants, multiple wine merchants, local breweries, and our two fantastic distilleries (Watershed and MiddleWest) supplied small bites and beverages to an enthusiastic and hungry crowd. Every restaurant had at least two, if not more offerings, both savory and sweet.

Some of the stand-out dishes included a gussied-up "S#!t on a Shingle" from Alana's--shredded beef shoulder on a tender, buttery focaccia-type bread, and spicy shrimp and grits from G. Michael's. Basi Italia offered up mini serving spoons of a spring pea puree topped with Parmesan cheese, and the folks at Edible Columbus dished up a creamy spelt risotto. Of course, Pistacia Vera turned out with a table laden with their exquisite macacrons.

One of the most notably different dishes I tried was a very simple micro-greens salad from The Oak Room at The Granville Inn. The salad was tossed in a simple vinaigrette, and accompanied by sweet, raw beets, julienned radishes, and, most intriguing, popcorn shoots. (They're the yellow, petal-looking things in the above picture.) Popcorn shoots are sprouted popcorn seeds that are grown in a dark greenhouse, so that they can't engage in photosynthesis, keeping them a lovely, buttery shade of yellow. They are sweet, crunchy, and do in fact have a slight popcorn flavor. They were really striking, and made for a memorable salad.

Sadly, I did not take nearly enough pictures, nor did I keep track of everything that the restaurants offered, but suffice to say, the food was exceptional, and the Grange Insurance Audubon Center was a beautiful and suiting location. Thanks to all the purveyors for a wonderful evening supporting a great cause. Make a note kids, and save your pennies for next year's event...you don't want to miss it!

Consider the Little Fishes

2011-04-21T10:27:00.000-07:00

We're switching gears from South Asia and talking a bit about a newly discovered love: sardines and anchovies.

...I realize with that statement, I probably just lost a lot of readers, but if you're still with me, I ask you to stick around.

I distinctly remember an evening when I was in high school, and I had some friends over for dinner. My dad ordered us pizzas, and when the delivery guy showed up at the front door and handed us our pies, we were immediately olfactorily assaulted by an anchovy pizza which my dad thought "might be fun to try." Being a high school girl, I was appalled and mortified that my dad would order something as gross as anchovy pizza for me and my friends, and we refused to have anything to do with it. Luckily, I've wised up.

Oil packed sardines aren't actually all that fishy tasting, and the same can be said for good quality anchovies. Some of the bigger ones are pretty meaty, and actually reminded me a bit of canned tuna in their taste. Anchovies and sardines are both high in Omega 3 fatty acids, those good fats that "everyone" has been telling us to eat. They are versatile, inexpensive, and, the best part (in my opinion), environmentally sustainable. Since they're at the bottom of the fish food chain, they don't have a buildup of mercury or other toxins in their systems, and there's a lot of them.

For some time now, these little fish have been making appearances in my cooking through the use of anchovy paste. Mixing a tablespoon or so into pasta sauces, soups, and stews adds a boost of that ever-mysterious-yet-delicious "umami" flavor, a depth of taste that you just can't quite put your finger on.

I've also tried a couple sardine based recipes at my family's holiday dinners, the most recent being this one from Saveur. (I used sardines instead of anchovies.) After reading the "Sandwich Issue" of a recent Saveur magazine, I was inspired to pick up a couple of tins and try out a sardine sandwich:

Using some ingredients I had around the house, I riffed on the original recipe and came up with that lovely bagel sandwich pictured above. With sardines (or anchovies), the key is to pair them with ingredients that help to cut the oily-saltiness. In this case, a toasted bagel, smeared with Dijon mustard, and topped with spring lettuce mix and pickled ramps gave some textural variety to the sandwich, with the ramps adding a vinegary crunch to help tame the sardines.

I also found that a piece of sardine on a cracker spread with cream cheese makes a really nice afternoon snack, provided of course, you brush your teeth before you visit with friends. I've tried the oil packed and smoked varieties of sardines and anchovies thus far, and find them both delicious, but you should really find out for yourself. So, get out there and give the little fish a chance...

(Need a place to start? check out these recommendations on Chow.com for sardines, this anchovy spread by Jacques Pepin and this post on anchovies.)

Nepali Snack Attack

2011-04-20T08:06:00.000-07:00

As I think I may have mentioned in the previous posts, the Nepali people love their food, and they love to snack. However, a snack in Nepal is not just a handful of Oreos or a bag of Cheeze-Its, it's practically a meal. The photo above depicts a typically snack stand near the Manakamana Temple. In the foreground are veggie pakoras--sort of a veggie tempura, in the middle are samosas, and in the back is a plate of fried jalebi--fried ribbons of dough soaked in sugar syrup, and behind that, a simmering bowl of potato curry. Since nothing whets your appetite like watching some goats get offered to the Goddess, we decided to grab a bite.

When street snacking in Nepal (or any country, really) an important rule of thumb is to eat what's just been cooked, or is being cooked in front of you. In this case, the snack stand had a large crowd, which meant a quick turnover, which in turn meant food wasn't sitting out waiting.

KLB and I indulged in samosas (pyramid shaped pastries that are stuffed with potatos and veggies, then fried), a couple jalabi, and the potato curry:

The samosas were filled with a richly seasoned, slightly spicy potato mixture, and the potato curry with fried soy beans was creamy, but with a serious spicy kick. The best part, however, was the jalebi--it's basically a funnel cake but more delicate, and about one hundred times sweeter. Frequently, they're yellow/orange in color, as saffron is used to color the sugar syrup in which they're soaked.

We went about two or three blocks before we came upon a vendor selling rings of another fried dough:

These are called sel roti, and because I was on vacation, a second round of dessert seemed acceptable. Sel roti is made from a thin-ish batter of rice flour, mashed bananas, sugar, and water. It's poured into a pot of hot oil that has a can or ring in the middle, to keep the batter in a circular form.

The dough puffs as it cooks, is flipped and cooked on the other side and in about 20 seconds you have a slightly sweet doughnut with just a hint of banana flavor. Paired with a Coke made with real sugar, and you have a grade A snack.

Another popular Nepali treat is chaat, and it is sold by roadside street vendors or small snack stands:

Chaat is a choose-your-own-adventure snack, with a base of fried, puffed, balls of dough (puri), that is then topped with seasonings of your choice: yogurt, chopped onions, radishes, chickpeas, corriander, chilies, and other assorted spices. Sometimes its served on a plate, other times, it's served in a paper cone, or on banana leaves.

Finally, the other tried-and-true snack of Nepal is the momo:

These are essentially dumplings, which, while simple, somehow manage to be the source of constant debate as to whose aunt/grandmother/sister or which restaurant makes the best. They can be filled with veggies (cabbage, carrots, onions), minced chicken, or--the most delicious--buffalo. They are served with assorted sauces called achars that can be made in a variety of spice levels.

KLB hosted a momo party one night, and her cooks and housekeeper made hundreds of veg and buff momos, cooking them in a giant steamer.

The best part, I discovered, about momo night is the next morning. For breakfast the day after a steamed-momo feast, any leftover momos are fried up for a filling start to the day.

If there's anything I learned in Nepal, is that food is a vital part of the culture, and an essential part of hospitality. A visit to a Nepali house will mean glasses of chai or fresh lemon soda (tiny, local lemons sliced into sparkling water) and something to eat. While there may not be running water or electricity for half the day, and the government may still be in gridlock, there will always be jalabies and momos.

Religious Tailgating* at Svayambhunath Stupa

2011-04-12T10:23:00.000-07:00

Svayambunath stupa (or just Svayambhu, pronounced swi-am-boo), is considered one of the most sacred sites in the Kathmandu Valley. Since entire books have been written on its cultural and religious significance to Nepali and Tibetan Buddhists, I'll just briefly sum it up here..and then we'll get to the party.

Svayambhu is a religious complex at the top of a hill just outside of the Valley, capped by a large stupa (a large dome topped by a rectangular tower) and features the eyes of the Buddha gazing over the landscape. It's comprised of hundreds of shrines, several temples, and a few monasteries, as well as shops and restaurants. Pilgrims to Svayambhu frequently circumambulate around the base of the stupa, spinning prayer wheels as they go:

But first, just to get there, you have to climb 365 steps. If you can do so without stopping, it is said you can attain enlightenment in the present lifetime...I admit, KLB and I took some breaks. No enlightenment this go around... Devoted pilgrims make the trek up the hill to Svayambhu on a weekly or even daily basis. It's also a good workout.

(The view from the bottom.)

(The view from the top.)

Svayambhu is one of my favorite places in all of Nepal, as there is almost always something interesting happening. Sometimes, it's just monkeys stealing food out of the hands of tourists, other times, it's a giant community religious feast.

This particular visit, KLB and I planned on passing through and taking a few pictures, and perhaps chatting with a few of her friends that live in the Svayambhu complex. However, we arrived to some very large crowds, and after speaking to her friend Deepak, we were informed that we had shown up on the day of the Newar Buddhist community's yearly picnic. We were then informed that we had to return later that afternoon for the actual festivities, but were invited to observe some of the preparations.

In a large open plaza under the watchful eyes of the Buddha, dozens of men and women were chopping vegetables, butchering buffalo and stirring massive, bubbling pots.

They were peeling and dicing hundreds of pounds of potatoes, chopping stacks of green and red onions, and mincing buckets of garlic. All of this was taking place on the ground, with people seated in groups gossiping, laughing, and generally enjoying the camaraderie.

Deepak led us down a side street, where we found the butchers hacking away at the mortal remains of at least one, if not a couple buffalo:

(You can see the tail hanging out of the bowl in the center right.)

All the while these massive cauldrons of potatoes and buffalo were stewing away, and releasing the most amazing smells. We were able to obtain a few samples during a mid morning break:

This is choila, grilled buffalo tossed with green onions, chilies, and garlic. It was delicious.

We made the "mistake" of lingering just long enough for the crew doing the cooking to start plying KLB and I with some cocktails...like any good tailgate, you have to have something to drink while you're prepping the feast, and in this case, it happened to be chaang and aayla (being poured above). Chaang is a milky-white rice "beer" made in individual homes--it's slightly carbonated and has a somewhat sour taste. Good chaang is pleasant and refreshing (and the stuff they were pouring us was both of those things.) True to the hospitable Nepali nature, our glasses were not even empty before they were refilled.

Containers of chaang fermenting in a residence.

Aayla is rice "wine," but is probably better described as moonshine. It's very strong, also made at home, and is served in metal ewers. KLB and I had several shots of aayla, as well as a few glasses of chaang--at 10:30 in the morning, mind you--before we were able to bow out and continue on our day with the promise that we would return in the afternoon.

After hitting up the bead markets and the scarf stores, we trekked back up to Svayambhu around 5pm, where the feast was in full swing. Hundreds of people were lined up to receive tikka, the forehead marks given as blessings and frequently made with red pigment, yogurt, and rice.

Those not in line for tikka were seated on the ground in rows, with palm leave plates in front of them, and the assorted cooks/waiters walked down the aisles passing out food and pouring drinks.

Everyone was laughing, chatting, children were running everywhere, and drinks were being liberally poured to all.

In one corner of the grounds, a band played and chanted, while a woman danced in a trance. According to Deepak, there were probably five thousand people in attendance for the feast, and the food, crowds, smells of burning oil lamps, and noise created a powerful and exciting atmosphere.

Eventually, KLB and I were able to grab a plate of food--sukuti (dried, stir-fried buffalo), amazingly tender stewed buffalo, some phenomenal curried potatoes tossed with loads of garlic and ginger--as well as a few more glasses of chaang, before we finally departed for the evening, stuffed and tipsy. It struck me that even on the opposite side of the world, really, people are fundamentally the same...communities and friendships are marked by the preparation and sharing of food, and of course, the occasional cocktail. The only thing really missing was some football.

*Full credit to KLB for coming up with this moniker for our adventures that day!

Buffalo on the Ceiling, Pancakes on the Floor

2011-04-08T06:15:00.000-07:00

And now...FINALLY....the first in series focusing on some of the wonderful (and slightly different) food experiences I had while travelling in Nepal.

Nepal has a rich culinary identity, shaped by its proximity to India and Tibet, a temperate climate, and fertile soil in the Kathmandu Valley. While it shares some similarities to other South Asian cultures (rice as a staple, liberal use of curry), it nonetheless has dishes that are unique to the region. There is also a subset of Nepali culture in the Kathmandu Valley, the Newars. The Newars are the indigenous people of the Valley, and have their own language (Newari) as well a culinary tradition distinct from Nepal as a whole.

My friend, tour guide, translator, and all around awesome host for my trip, KLB, had heard that there was a "secret" local restaurant near her house, and it served authentic, real-deal Newar food. While on one of our shopping excursions, she asked around and we discovered that it was just around the corner from where we perusing jewelry. We finally found Honacha located just behind the Krisha Temple in Patan Durbar Square, tucked at the end of an alley and a literal hole in the wall:

...and holy hell, I just did a quick internet search and they have a Facebook page.

Anyway....upon entering a low doorway, you may initially think that you've wandered into someone's private kitchen, except that there are groups of people clustered around rickety tables and a Pepsi cooler in one corner. The walls are covered in soot and the sink is a faucet in the corner. On the floor to the left of the entrance, two women sit surrounded by pots, bowls, and hot griddles. Immediately noticeable is the meat hanging from the ceiling:

(Sorry that guy is in the way.) One of the staples of the Newari diet (aside from rice in many forms...more on that in in minute), is buffalo. The buffalo hanging from the ceiling is the begining of what is called sukuti. It's meat that is dried, then stir-fried and chopped up with spices, onions, garlic, and tomatoes. It's heavenly:

We didn't have any sukuti at Honacha (that's some from one of the hotels where we stayed), but did enjoy another amazing buffalo dish, choila. Choila is buffalo that is marinated in spices, flame-grilled, the tossed with green onions, red chilies, and oil. It's typically severed room temperature, and is (along with sukuti) considered not so much a meal, but an appetizer.

The choila is pictured to the right in the photo above. When KLB and I walked into Honacha, we found a table in the back, and got a few random looks from the other diners until she walked up to the chefs and ordered us a few dishes. About three minutes later, the boy acting as waiter/dishwasher/gofer brought us a couple of plates of choila, two orders of bara (pictured in the foreground), a plate of aloo sandeko (pictured in the center), and a two big plates of chiura (to the right).

Bara (or woh), is a lentil pancake, pressed and flattened on a griddle, and can be served with a fried egg cooked on top of it. That's a bara being shaped in the image below.

Aloo sandeko is a dish of very spicy curried potatoes...the potatoes were melt-in-your-mouth tender, and like the choila, they were the kind of spicy that hurt so bad, but tasted so good. You couldn't help but to keep shoveling them in your mouth.

Finally, the rice component of our lunch was the chiura, or beaten rice. It is one of many styles of rice (puffed and steamed also being popular) and is made by soaking rice, then pounding it with a mallet, resulting in something akin to dry oatmeal in size and texture. It is mixed with the choila or aloo sandeko to help cut the spiciness of the dishes. It's very filling and is an important ingredient due to its ease of transportation and its ability to be used for a variety of dishes (re-hydrated in milk or water, it becomes somewhat porridge-like).

Needless to say, it was a fantastic meal (for us...for most Nepalis or Newars, it would have been a mere snack--these are a people that love to eat), and we washed it down with some Pepsi made with real sugar (another great aspect of international travel.) Interestingly enough, when we returned home and were reading the paper that evening, we saw that the food section did a feature on great local restaurants and Honacha was listed as one of the best and most enduring in the Valley. Amazing, considering that we walked right past it when we were first trying to find it!

Up next: A Newar Buddhist community feast for five thousand...

Thanks for Your Patience!

2011-04-04T10:37:00.000-07:00

My dear friends of Ham Sandwich...

....I realize it's been over a month (?!?!?) since I've posted anything on the blog. I apologize if you've been coming back here day after day, just to see that the most interesting food even in my life has apparently been King Cake.

I actually just returned from a couple of weeks visiting The Roof of the World, aka, Nepal. I have lots to share, and experienced some OUTSTANDING food related adventures that I will be sharing with you in the next few weeks. To keep you occupied in the meantime, I encourage you to check out my flickr account for images of some of my adventures in and around Kathmandu.

Thanks!!!

Above, my friend Kerry and I enjoy some choila--spicy, grilled, buffalo--and chaang--rice beer at a Newar Buddhist festival.

Phat Tuesday King Cakes

2011-03-09T08:20:00.000-08:00

It's probably a little ridiculous to post a King Cake recipe the day after Mardi Gras, but I didn't get my pics off my camera until now.

The King Cake is (I think) a lot like Christmas fruitcakes--they start popping up in grocery stores at one particular point in the season, and are never as appetizing as advertised. It's one of those traditional foods that people seem obligated to buy, but no one is really ever super excited about it. (I'm sure there are New Orleans residents who would beg to differ with me on that point.)

Anyway, I think they're kinda tacky--slathered in high sugar glaze and festooned with an explosion of sprinkles...they're like the over-forty cougars in miniskirts at the bar...trying just a little to hard to get noticed.

All that being said, this year I decided that they are probably better if made from scratch, not sealed in a plastic and cardboard box, and so I pulled a recipe from epicurious and made a couple King Cakes for friends and coworkers.

The dough is brioche-like in it's excessive use of butter, but then heavily seasoned with cinnamon and lemon zest. It actually made my house smell completely heavenly while it was rising. After letting it rise all day, I came home and partitioned the dough into strands to braid, then rise again.
After the second rise, they baked for half an hour, and cooled while I mixed a powdered sugar and lemon juice icing.

If you're unfamiliar with the whole King Cake tradition, you may not know that the baker hides a plastic, miniature baby figurines in the cake, and the person who finds it is "king" for the year. (What that actually means is beyond me. Serfs? Fiefdoms?) Not having a surplus of baby figurines lying about my house, I used a couple dollar coins instead, keeping in mind I needed something that wasn't a choking hazard.

Once they prizes were tucked away, I attempted to artfully apply the icing (I wanted these to be fancy-pants, Parisian pastry shop quality), but quickly realized that the King Cake cannot be classy--the icing pools and runs, thick in some places, thin in others. I forwent the silicon pastry brush and switched to a ladle. A generous application of green, gold, and purple sprinkles and the cakes were done.

And actually, they turned out to be pretty tasty...like a cinnamon breakfast danish, but a little more dense. Both friends and coworkers seemed to enjoy it, especially the two individuals who made a little cash when they found the hidden coins. Not sure I'll make them again, but it was fun to try it out. Next year, I think I'll get my friend to teach me to make Polish paczki's...

Reese's Cup Cupcakes

2011-03-09T07:50:00.000-08:00

It's Ash Wednesday--a day of fasting and restraint, which means it's the perfect day to post a recipe for the cupcakes I made for a friend's birthday a couple weeks ago.

Chocolate and peanut butter. There's really not much else to say.

Reese's Cup Cupcakes (recipe modified from this NYTimes recipe)

Makes 16-24

For the cakes:

2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch process)
5 1/3 ounces (10 2/3 tablespoons) sweet butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
3 eggs
1 cup milk
1/2 cup sour cream (plain yogurt would work, too--so would mayo)
For the peanut butter frosting:
12 tablespoons butter, softend
1/3 cup heavy cream/half & half/milk
1 1/2-2 c. peanut butter
2 cup powdered sugar

1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees and line muffin tins with cupcake liners. Sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder and set aside. Using a hand or stand mixer, cream butter. Add the sugar, vanilla, and sour cream, and mix to combine. Add the eggs one at a time, beating after each one until smooth.

2. On the lowest speed, alternately add the dry ingredients in three additions and the milk in two. Beat only until smooth and fully combined, you don’t want to overwork the batter.
3. Scoop the batter into the prepared pans filling each about two-thirds full. Bake the cupcakes for about 25 minutes, or until the tops are puffed and spring back when lightly pressed. Be careful not to overbake the cakes, but know that if you take them out too early they may sink a bit. Cool the cakes in the muffin tins for about 5 minutes and then remove them to a rack and let cool completely.
4. For the frosting, beat together the butter, peanut butter and powdered sugar, adding cream/milk as needed to reach a spreadable consistency. Pipe or spread on the cooled cupcakes. Top with a Reese's Cup. Enjoy.

Behold, the Power of Pretzels!

2011-02-23T05:18:00.001-08:00

OK, so they don't look like your typical street vendor/concession stand pretzels, but I can confirm they taste about eight million times better...

This is the year of the pretzel for me. My goal is to achieve pretzel perfection for the day that I decide to open a German beer garden. This weekend was the first step on that path, in that it was the first time I tried making pretzels from scratch (I've already mastered the beer drinking part). While not the most attractive things, they did turn out pretty tasty.

I followed a recipe from the Bread: A Baker's Book of Techniques and Recipes, by the head baker at King Arthur Flour....My guess is, they're probably a pretty reliable source when it comes to baked goods. This book is no slouch when it comes to baking--it offers an extensive section on the foundations of baking--ingredients, shaping, etc, then provides recipes in metric and standard measures, as well as commercial production and home baker production (need to make 25 loaves of bread at once?).

The recipe for the pretzels itself, while time-intensive, was not really time-consuming. On Saturday morning, I mixed a pate fermentee (basically a tiny batch of bread dough), that acted as a starter for the dough the next day. This sat in a bowl for 24 hours, then I added it to more flour, water, salt, and yeast, and kneaded it all in my trusty mixer.

After rising for a couple of hours, I cut the dough into 3 ounce "cigars" and let those rest for about 20 minutes:

From there, I rolled them out into 16 inch long ropes, and attempted to twist them into the traditional pretzel shape. Some turned out better than others, and as can be expected, they got better as I went along. Also, the dough was able to relax for a longer period of time, so it was easier to roll out.

....That one in the bottom right corner is the best one I made. They had to rise (AGAIN!?!) for another half hour, and in the meantime, I constructed a ghetto-fabulous dipping tray, for dipping the raw dough into a solution of water and sodium hydroxide lye beads.

The solution is super caustic, so you have to wear gloves, and take care not to splash it all over the place. It's important, though, as it gives the pretzels their signature thin, brown crust. The lye solution evaporates in the oven, so it's completely harmless once the pretzels are baked. Yay, science! (Note: you can also make a weaker solution using baking soda, but I really wanted an excuse to buy food-grade dangerous chemicals...)

The tray on top I used as my dipping tray, where I placed about six pretzels before submerging them for about five seconds. From there, they were transferred to a baking sheet, sprinkled with salt (pickling salt for the first round, sea salt for the second) and baked at 450 for 16 minutes.

When they came out of the oven, they smelled exactly like pretzels should smell, and tasted even better...chewy, yeasty, and salty. With a smear of mustard, they vaulted to amazing. I took them to my sister and brother-in-law's for dinner and they were devoured immediately, so I think they liked them too.

The next step will be mastering the more "traditional" shape, then trying other styles like buns, or bread sticks...Pretzel wrapped sausages, anyone?

Food & Art: Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together

2011-02-14T13:21:00.000-08:00

Damn. It's been almost a month since my last post...I blame the plague/flu/walking death that I've been battling on and off for the past few weeks. Fortunately, I'm feeling A-OK now, and am getting a post (albeit a short one) up.

In honor of two of my favorite loves--food and art--I'm showing off my new newest acquisition this Valentine's Day: a limited edition screenprint by graphic designer Justin Perricone, of the complete ingredient list of a ham and cheese Hot Pocket. It's now hanging--professionally framed(!)--over my kitchen sick, where I can contemplate the awesomeness of "dipotassium phosphate," "ham ground and formed," and "natural flavor" while I do my dishes.

And because you can't mention Hot Pockets without it, here's Jim Gaffigan's take on the microwave foodstuff that everyone loves to hate.

Happy V-Day, all!

Jim Gaffigan - Beyond the Pale - Hot Pockets @ Yahoo! Video

National Chocolate Cake Day!

2011-01-26T05:16:00.000-08:00

....is actually tomorrow (January 27th). But since the Ham Sandwich has other obligations to attend to this evening, she is honoring the day a tad early and letting her coworkers reap the delicious benefits.

And damn if it isn't delicious.

From the endless source of ideas that is Epicurious.com, I present to you my interpretation of their Chocolate Whiskey Bundt cake:

Chocolate Whiskey & Kahlua Bundt Cake (because more booze = more better)

Ingredients

Cake:

1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (not Dutch-process) plus 3 tablespoons for dusting pan
1 1/2 cups brewed coffee
1/4 cup whiskey

1/4 cup Kahlua (or other coffee liquor)
2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 cups sugar
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla

Ganache:
3/4-1 cup semi sweet chocolate chips

1/4 cup milk

1 tablespoon butter

1 tablespoon instant coffee/espresso powder

Special equipment: a 10-inch bundt pan (3 1/4 inches deep; 3-qt capacity)

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 325°F. Butter bundt pan well, then dust with 3 tablespoons cocoa powder, knocking out excess.

Heat coffee, whiskey, Kahlua, butter, and remaining cup cocoa powder in a 3-quart heavy saucepan over moderate heat, whisking, until butter is melted. Remove from heat, then add sugar and whisk until dissolved, about 1 minute. Transfer mixture to a large bowl and cool 5 minutes.

While chocolate mixture cools, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. Whisk together eggs and vanilla in a small bowl, then whisk into cooled chocolate mixture until combined well. Add flour mixture and whisk until just combined (batter will be thin and bubbly). Pour batter into bundt pan and bake until a wooden pick or skewer inserted in center comes out clean, 40 to 50 minutes.

Cool cake completely in pan on a rack, about 2 hours. Loosen cake from pan using tip of a dinner knife, then invert rack over pan and turn cake out onto rack.

When cake is cooled, warm milk in microwave and add instant coffee/espresso powder, stir until dissolved. Melt chocolate chips and butter over a double boiler (or in increments in microwave). Add milk and coffee mixture gradually, stirring to reach a pourable consistency. (You may not need to use all the milk.)

Drizzle the ganache over the cake, allow to set.

EAT!

Catholic Kids are Weird

2011-01-19T05:37:00.000-08:00

...And I can say that because I went through 16 years of Catholic school (yep, college, too...the Ham Sandwich is a glutton for guilt.)

Anyway. One my favorite writers out there is a girl named Allie Brosh, who writes a completely hysterical and incredibly well drawn blog called Hyperbole and a Half. Many of her stories are hilarious accounts of her precocious childhood, and her most recent story got me thinking about the weird stuff my three siblings and I did as kids.

One of the weirder things we did was this thing (game?) called The Mary Hole. (Insert inappropriate joke here) Let me set the scene: Growing up, we lived on a cul-de-sac, (the "court") that was about 1/10 of a mile around. The middle had a grassy area big enough for pick-up soccer games/red rover/red light-green light, and the perimeter was surrounded by groves of pine trees. It was basically our mini neighborhood park, and it was awesome. And did I mention that all four of us went to Catholic grade schools?

One of those pine groves had an open space in the middle, and either by nature or construct (I can't honestly remember), the space had a shallow, one foot or so wide and one foot deep depression in the center of the pines. My siblings and I, for reasons that God only knows, deemed it "The Mary Hole." As in Mary, Mother of Jesus. The Blessed Mother. The BVM.

I have no solid reason as as to why we would have picked a random spot in the cul-de-sac and start worshiping it as if the Virgin Mary herself appeared there. (Maybe she did?) My guess is that it had something to do with our (specifically my sisters' and I) Catholic school-induced obsession with Mary. Mary was a friendly, beautiful figure in the Catholic Church, and especially popular as a role model for young Catholic girls. May Crowning--a day in May when we'd process over to the grotto at school and one lucky, obviously holy girl got to put a crown of flowers on the statue of Mary's head--was a big, BIG deal. I distinctly remember being filled with a very un-Catholic-like sense of jealousy when my middle sister got to do the honors in second grade.

Specifics on what we exactly did with the Mary Hole are hard to recall, but I do remember we spent a lot of time throwing flowers into it, occasionally standing in it (but you really weren't supposed to stand in the Mary Hole), and frequently praying to it (her?). The Mary Hole was a popular meeting spot ("I'll see you at the Mary Hole!"), as well as a base for tag-related games...which I suppose makes sense, considering we viewed it sacred ground. We achieved a major coup when we managed to get our Mormon neighbors to buy into the whole thing, and they too would join us in prayers and assorted rituals around the Mary Hole. I also remember that our brother and his friend thought that the Mary Hole was dumb--they had little interest in activities revolving around a shallow hole that housed an invisible deity.

Back at my parent's house recently, I went out in the court and found the old Mary Hole...it's been filled in a bit by time and pine needles, but it's still there. And asking my siblings about it, my one sister had no specific memories either, but summed up the whole point of this story nicely: "OK. Kids are weirdos. We were no exception. It sounds like a reference to a virginal orifice."

Amen, sister.

The Bon Appetit Food Lovers "Cleanse"

2011-01-06T10:03:00.000-08:00

I "like" Bon Appetit on Facebook, so I get little updates from them fairly frequently. Last week, they sent a link for what they called a "Food Lovers Cleanse." It's a two week meal program, super light on the dairy and carbs, heavy on the whole grains and veggies. For one hot minute I thought about trying it out and doing it to the letter, then decided: 1) it's kinda pricey (mache? how about just good old baby spinach?), 2) I frankly don't have the time to make dinner every night, and 3) it's going to take a back seat to the Sugar Bowl, and TNDC. Sorry, I'm just not that dedicated.

However, I did peruse the menu and figured I could try out some new ingredients/recipes in an attempt to start the new year off right. At the grocery, I picked up some quinoa (a grain that's been around for centuries and is, in my opinion, a cross between, couscous and barley), vanilla almond milk, and other assorted ingredients.

Breakfast for a couple of mornings this week has been a quinoa "oatmeal." I cooked a batch of quinoa in water and the almond milk early this week and divvied it up for a couple meals. Topped with some blackberries I froze this summer, some chopped almonds, cinnamon, and maple syrup, it's been pretty alright. Quinoa's got a really mild nutty flavor, and definitly needs the help of the toppings to give it some zing. It's pretty filling, so that's good too.

There's a recipe on Day 4 for Edamame "Hummus." I also made a big batch of that, and had it for lunch Monday and Tuesday with carrots, cucumbers, broccoli, and a piece of whole wheat pita. It's not bad, but a little bland--while it does have a nice lemony note--it maybe it could use a little extra salt & pepper, or a splash of hot sauce. (I'll have to remember to bring some for tomorrow's lunch.) One thing I did determine, is that blanching broccoli for a few seconds and then cooling it makes for a much more delicious experience. Sometimes raw broccoli is just too, well, raw.

Last night was the first dinner I tried from the menu--and holy crap, was it good. Day 2's Bengali Mustard Salmon & Black Eyed Pea Curry was some of the best Indian food I've made in a while. The curry was built on layers of flavor--onions, chilis, a paste of ginger and garlic, multple spices, and tomatoes that I canned this summer (yay!).

The salmon was equally delicious, and took all of 5 minutes to throw together. Leftover curry should be good for lunch tomorrow or this weekend, and I'm pretty sure it's going to become part of my regular rotation.

The next few dinners are ok--grilled chicken (duh, I can do that), an overly complicated miso soup, and a beet soup (I'm sorry I just cannot get into excessive amounts of beets), but the grilled hangar steak recipe for Day 6, might make it on the dinner menu for tomorrow. Paired with a salad and topped with pickled ramps, I think it'll work.

Anyone else see this program and trying it out? What are your thoughts?

Glancing Back, Looking Forward, and Still Hungry

2011-01-03T11:44:00.000-08:00

The Ham Sandwich and Grandma Nana at Christmas--would you believe Grandma's 89?--The Ham Sandwich is clearly blessed with some good genetics.

It's the first week of January--so of course, the Ham Sandwich (along with every other yahoo on the Internets) is starting off the year with some sort of reflective piece about the changeover.

Looking back, 2010 was pretty eventful. The year started with the ending of one relationship, but ended with the beginning of a new one. In the middle, I ran my best time in the Columbus Half Marathon, continued my quest to create delicious pickles, and ate--OK, drank--the hottest pepper in the world (well, until this came along). I visited (and ate delicious food with) friends and loved ones in Boston, Philadelphia, and Petoskey, Michigan, made enough baked goods to single-handedly keep King Arthur Flour in business, and brewed my first batch of beer.

As for 2011, it's shaping up to be pretty spectacular. I'm headed to Nepal in March to visit a dear friend from grad school and check out how Kathmandu has changed since I was last there in 2002/2003. I'm already excited for my CSA with Wayward Seed, and am looking forward to trying some new recipes with the beautiful produce they provide. Chances are good to excellent that I'll be running the Cleveland Half Marathon in May, which is a shock to me...I told myself I was done with distance running after the last race...just goes to show you that things (and mindsets) can always change!

I'm not great with keeping resolutions (cue the 5K-a-Month resolution from 2009), but there are things that I'm going to try to keep doing/do more of in 2011. My list thus far:

Continue to visit the gym/workout on a regular basis--I like the fact that I have to buy new clothes because my old stuff is too big. (But hate the fact that I have to buy new clothes!)...And along those lines, try to run Cleveland a little faster than Columbus.
Make eating locally and sustainably an even greater part of my life--having a CSA gets me halfway there, but I'd like to add to it by joining a meat CSA of some form...and locally sourced butter and flour would be awesome.
Make more beer and learn to make pretzels--the good, thick, German kind--I think they'd go well with the beer.
Hit up more of the local restaurants--it pains me to admit it, but I've yet to have a meal at Sage, L'Antibes, and Alana's...and it's been ages since I've been back to Black Creek Bistro.
Write more often--and start translating my paternal grandmother's cookbook (it's in German and the metric system and handwritten)--should be a hell of a project.
Strive to be a better family member, friend, girlfriend, and coworker...because while I think I do a pretty good job as it is, I suppose there's always room for improvement.

Here's to a fun-filled year; I look forward to sharing 2011 and all it offers with all of you!

Christmas Food Feast 2010

2010-12-27T11:10:00.000-08:00

True to form (and compulsion), Ham Sandwich and family kept it on the foodie tip this Christmas, with several days of festive food and drink. We started off on Christmas Eve with our now-traditional Feast of the Seven Fishes. This year's menu included:

Garlic-butter glazed salmon (caught by H.S's brother, up in Michigan)

Lemon and herb stuffed whole trout (also caught by said brother)

Prociutto-wrapped scallops

Sardines in Salsa Verde recipe here, with sardines instead of anchovies

Crab cakes

Shrimp cocktail

Crab salad

Salmon dip

Farfalle pasta with tomato sauce

Assorted cheeses, olives, and breads

We also experimented with cocktails from Imbibe! a book of old-tyme drink recipes. And maybe the folks of 1862 had a different idea of what tastes good, but I would argue that Hot Buttered Rum is not very delicious. However, the Vanilla Punch we made on Christmas Day (with brandy, sugar, lemon, and vanilla extract), was quite enjoyable.

For Christmas Day dinner, we went with a Mexican theme and made Pork & Pozole Stew, Chile & Corn Tamales stuffed with Queso Fresco, a simple mixed greens salad with black beans, avacado, and a honey-lime dressing, and Mexican Eggnog. The best part of prepping all of this was hitting up the Mexican grocery store, Las Maravillas, on 5th Ave in Victorian Village--Mexican groceries are a treasure trove of cheap, bulk dried peppers, as well as those random, hard to find Mexican cuisine ingredients like epazote, Mexican oregano, and pilloncillo (Mexican brown sugar).

Pork & Pozole Stew (tamales are in the background)

Mexican eggnog

The Ham Sandwich lucked out on food-related Christmas presents this year, recieving the ice cream maker attachment for her KitchenAid mixer from her sister and brother-in-law, and a super-awesome food dehydrator from her very attentive boyfriend. She also got a stocking full of utensils, including a new and much-needed, silicone-wrapped wisk. The dehydrator came out for a test drive yesterday and turned out homemade apple chips and banana chips:

And they were totally awesome. I might never buy dried fruit again...

Finally, the weekend wrapped up with an ambitious French Apple Tart project, courtesy of Saveur, via Sara Moulton:

You'll notice that the tart at the top of the post is different from the one immediately above. The former is mine, the latter is Sara Moulton's....I had some difficulties in keeping my apples from breaking in pieces as I arranged them in "rose petals," but it nonetheless turned out fairly close to the picture, and, more importantly, just as delicious. It was, on the whole, pretty easy to construct, and creates a rather striking impression.

Now, after a whirlwind weekend of cooking and baking, I'm looking forward to a little downtime...and maybe some experimenting with homemade jerky...

I hope all of you had a Merry (and Delicious!) Christmas! Happy New Year!

Home Brew!

2010-12-21T10:37:00.001-08:00

Finally, after years of wanting to try it, your Ham Sandwich, along with two of her partners-in-crime--P and L--jumped on the homebrew-making bandwagon. Above, we proudly present our ESB Pale Ale: Extra Sassy Bitches Edition. It has a rich amber-red color and is made with crystal malt and Target hops in the tea, and dry hopped with Kent Gold. We purchased our ingredients, based on a previously tried recipe, at the Winemaker's Shop, run by the super-friendly and always knowledgeable Scott Francis & Nina Hawranick.

Thankfully, I was working with some experienced beer makers--P had made beer in the past with her husband, and L was a former quality control engineer for Anheuser-Busch. My beer experience has been limited to drinking it and slinging it. I failed to take pictures of the first several steps--boiling the tea (malt, water, malt extract, hops, some maple syrup), and the initial fermentation, but did get it together to get some pictures of the latter half of the process. Above is the carboy shortly before bottling. What you see floating on the top are the Kent Gold hops we put in during the 'dry hop' phase--it's when you add the hops after the fermentation phase, and allows for the addition of aromatic oils that are lost when hops are boiled in the first phase of brewing. Basically, it makes your beer extra delicious.

After about of 10 days after we added the dry hops, we were ready to bottle. P had been saving bottles for a few weeks (So we drink a lot of beer...don't judge us!), and had them sanitized and ready to go on bottling night.

We siphoned the beer from the carboy to a sanitized plastic bucket:

And then siponed the beer from the bucket into the individual bottles, using some tubing with a handy little spring-loaded filler tip at the bottom:

We then capped the bottles,

And packaged our product:

From five gallons of beer we ended up with (if I'm remembering correctly) forty or so 12oz bottles and two 22oz bottles. After waiting very patiently for several weeks, we finally cracked open a bottle this past weekend. And holy crap, it was delicious! There are few things more deeply satisfying then spending over a month on creating something, hoping that all the elements line up, and impurities and bacteria stay out, and then, when you finally try it, not only is it drinkable, but it's really, really, good. Craft brew stardom, here we come!

Cheers and Merry Christmas from the Extra Sassy Bitches crew!

TNDC: Eating Columbus, One Thursday at a Time

2010-12-13T11:19:00.001-08:00

It started out simply enough: a group of friends with a standing Thursday night date at Buffalo Wild Wings for boneless chicken wings, a few beers, maybe some trivia. Over the course of the year, significant others came and went, but the core group--the Killa B, Big Country, and the H.S. remained. As the summer progressed, the group expanded to a few more regulars (V.Z., Doc Vince, Eddie-O, E.N.), and at the same time the group decided (ok, fine, yours truly, the restaurant geek, decided) that while the discounted boneless wings at BW3s were great and all, it was time to branch out.

And with that, the Thursday Night Drinking/Dinner Club (TNDC) was born.

Initial forays into other ports-of-call were simple, and stayed close to the sports bar/pub food genre: Brazenhead, King Avenue 5, Grandview Cafe. As the only female of the group for some period of time, and taking into consideration the Killa B's profound affection for BW3s Terriaki sauce, I had to work slowly. It became clear, however, that the group had a collective obsession with food and that we needed to do some additional exploration. O'Reilly's up in Clintonville was added to the list, and quickly became a group favorite (if you've ever had the privilege of enjoying their amazing burgers or sipping a beer at their sunken bar, you'd understand why...it's the greatest bar in a double-wide ever.).

As the year progressed, we started spending a little more time figuring out where we'd eat. Suggestions for places are welcome from any members, and decisions are made based on general group consensus, usually through a flurry of email and text messages. We might end up someplace because someone has a coupon (Groupon for Basil), or a craving for a particular ethnicity (Cuco's). Birthdays get treated with a little more fanfare: V.Z.'s birthday was celebrated at The Top, old school style--steak and cocktail filled.

Recently, it was determined that we should start a list of places, so that when the topic of where we should go next comes up, we can avoid the "I can't think of anything, let's just go back to BW3s" trap. We hit up the new Little Palace this past Thursday, where they had Great Lakes Christmas Ale on tap and a sweet new interior. I tried the Brussels sprout pizza, and really enjoyed the toppings--charred, shredded sprouts and panchetta--but was sad that the crust was a little soggy. (That won't stop me from going back, though.)

My favorite thing about TNDC (aside from the food) is the fact that it has given me a chance to develop some really wonderful friendships. Several members are folks that I knew only peripherally in law school, and others are friends that have joined the group through one person or another. Sharing a weekly meal has definitely given us a chance to get to know each other better, and our get-togethers frequently go outside of just Thursday nights. With that, here's to another year of great conversations, tasty beverages, and delicious food adventures. Thanks, guys!

Sausage & Fig Stuffed Squash (with Greens!)

2010-11-10T07:05:00.001-08:00

We're continuing on in our series of how to use all those veggies that seem to be procreating in your fridge while you're at work. This week, I found a way to use a whole bag of greens and three of the acorn/carnival squashes that have taken up residence on my kitchen table. Using some turnip greens, hot Italian sausage, risotto, and chopped, dried figs, I created a stuffing for the squashes. The spiciness of the sausage played nicely with the sweetness of the squash and figs. Serve this with a simply dressed salad and it would make a nice dinner.

This recipe came together pretty quickly--good for a weeknight--but it is one of those multiple dish projects:

You can basically do a lot of things at once, and I think it took about an hour and a half from start to finish.

Here's how it breaks down:

Ingredients:

3 small to medium acorn or carnival squash, sliced in half from top to bottom

1/2 pound hot (or mild, if that's your thing) Italian sausage

1/2 or so (a bag full?) of greens of your choice (leaves stripped from the tough stems)

1/2 onion, diced

2/3 c. risotto or rice or couscous

2 cups chicken or beef broth or water

handful of chopped, dried figs, cranberries, or whatever dried fruit you have on hand

handful of fresh sage, chopped if available, 1 teaspoon of dried if not

1 cup or so breadcrumbs (I'm partial to panko)

1. Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and lightly oil it. place the squash, sliced side down (no need to de-seed) on the sheet, toss in the oven. Ignore for the next 20 minutes or so.

2. While the squash is working, put on a pot of water to cook the greens...add a splash of cider vinegar and/or a teaspoon or so of sugar if you're working with bitter greens. While the water is getting to a boil, put the sausage in a skillet on medium heat and cook till brown, breaking up the pieces. When cooked through, turn off the heat.

3. While the water gets to boil and the sausage cooks, saute the diced onion in a saucepan on medium-low heat (this will also be the risotto/rice/couscous pan). I happened to have bacon fat on hand so I used that to saute the onions. When the onions are translucent and soft, add the risotto/rice/couscous and a sufficient amount of water/broth to cover (about double the amount of risotto).

4. When the greens water get to boil, toss the greens in and cook until wilted/soft, about 4 minutes. Drain, and rinse in cool water, then chop. Toss the chopped greens, sausage, chopped figs and sage in the now-empty green-blanching pot. When your risotto/rice/couscous/onion mixture is done, drain any excess water and add the risotto to the greens and sausage. Mix everything together and add salt/pepper to taste.

5. Set the bowl of stuffing aside and pull the squash out of the oven. Keeping in mind that they'll be HOT, scoop out the seeds and stringy bits in the middle. If the openings are small (and on these squash, they were) scoop out and chop some of the flesh and add it to the stuffing mix. Once they're all hollowed out, pack the stuffing into the squash. Top with breadcrumbs, cover them with foil and put them back in the oven for another 20 minutes or so.

6. When the squash is tender (poke it with a knife), remove the foil and allow the breadcrumbs to brown for a few minutes. Remove from the oven and enjoy delicious flavors of fall (preferably with a tasty brew).

Greens with Envy

2010-11-02T08:09:00.000-07:00

It apparently was a good year for greens in central Ohio. I say this because every Saturday for the last several weeks (months?) my farmers at the markets have bestowed upon me giant plastic bags of leafy veggies. For a few weeks, it was swiss chard and kale, but we've been transitioning to the tops of turnips as of late. I'm pretty confident that I've consumed more greens in the last 3-4 months than I did in my entire 31 years prior to this summer/fall. Thankfully, they are delicious, incredibly good for you, and amenable to a variety of treatments; to (badly) paraphrase Gordon Gecko, green is good.

It's hard to beat my preferred way to eat greens: fry up some chopped bacon, saute some diced onions and garlic in the accumulated bacon fat, add the greens and cook until wilted. Salt, pepper, maybe some hot pepper flakes. Done. Add some soy sauce/ginger if you're feeling Asian. Lately, though, I've grown weary (heresy, I know) of my traditional treatment and felt the need to mix it up a bit...Plus, I'm still working my way through the last of my garden tomatoes and will feel incredibly guilty if they go bad on me.

With that in mind, last night I pulled some chicken breasts out of the freezer and braised them with greens and tomatoes. I used turnip greens, which for the record, are pretty bitter, so if you're looking for a milder flavor, go with some chard or maybe some kale. I liked this dish because it was essentially a "one-pot" recipe, which is great if you're not into doing dishes.

Roasted Chicken with Braised Greens and Tomatoes

Ingredients:

Bacon fat/olive oil

3-4 pieces of your favorite cut of chicken

3-4 cloves of garlic

1/2 onion, sliced

Large bunch of greens of your choice, washed and torn into edible pieces (chard, kale, turnip, etc.)

Two medium tomatoes

1/2 of wine, broth, or water

Parmesan cheese

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. In an oven proof skillet, saute the onion and garlic and a pinch of salt in the fat/oil until soft and translucent.

2. Salt and pepper your chicken piece, and add them to the skillet with the onions and garlic, allowing them to brown on one side before turning them to the other.

3. When sufficiently browned, remove the chicken from the pan and add the greens and tomatoes. Toss briefly to mix with the onions, then place the chicken back in the skillet, on top of the greens.

4. Add the wine/broth/water, cover the skillet and place it in the oven for 20 minutes, or until the greens are cooked down and the chicken is no longer pink.

5. When finished, top with Parmesan to taste and serve with couscous, rice, or, as I did, with buttered egg noodles tossed with chopped fresh parsley and thyme.

Note: To help cut down on the bitterness of the turnip greens, I sprinkled them with about a teaspoon of sugar when they went into the skillet.

Gazelles and Truckers: The Musings of an Accidental Runner

2010-10-14T05:17:00.000-07:00

It's weird.

Sometime in the last three weeks I think I became a runner. I say think, because I'm not sure if I've just stumbled onto some type of lucky running streak, or if I've actually made to to the point where I can run several miles, regularly, without stopping. You know, a runner...who likes to run.

I've been training for the upcoming (Sunday!) Columbus Half Marathon for about five months now. It's actually the third half I've done (Chicago--'03, Columbus--'07), so I've been pretending to be a runner for quite sometime. Pretending, because until recently "running" meant running for a while, then walking for a bit before running again, etc...

Back in 2009, I resolved to run a 5K a month, and made it through to May (again with the run/walk paradigm), but it fell by the wayside when I got tired of spending the money, and then summer came, and weekends were busy, and well, you know what they say about excuses. Fast forward to this April: after a shitty breakup, a girlfriend caught me at a weak moment (damn those mojitos!) and convinced me that it would be SO FUN! to run the half in October. Crap.

In May, I joined a gym, dug out my running shoes and mapped out a 1.5 mile route around German Village. It had been almost a year since I last ran, it did not go so well. Thankfully, peer pressure and a bossy trainer are powerful motivators, and I kept at it, alternating short run/walks with rowing, the elliptical, and weights.

By the end of July my two friends and I started our official training program. I re-discovered the fact that I HATE running in the afternoon/after work, but if I can get out of bed, the early morning runs are actually kind of fun. I mapped out various distances through German Village and downtown Columbus, venturing further out each week and exploring the city in the early morning hours when people and businesses were only starting to come to life. I started seeing the same women walking around Schiller Park, the same guys walking to work, and could figure out if I had an early or late start based on what coffee shops were open as I ran by. I also learned that eating buffalo chicken wings the nights before I did my morning runs was a bad, bad thing.

Our long run for week 6 was a Quarter Marathon out in Dublin, and I ran four miles before I started taking walk breaks...which for me, was pretty good. An aside: As far as runners go, in my mind there are essentially two camps: the gazelles and the truckers. I am a trucker. I "truck"along, short of leg, red of face, not a size 2, and with a tendency to breathe loudly... (Yes, I know what you're thinking and you're right--it's incredibly sexy.) Gazelles are those other folks, people blessed with a preternatural ability to look like they're floating and not so much running, for whom their exertions look effortless to us in the trucker camp. Anyway, for a trucker like myself, 4 miles straight was pretty damn good. Things were starting to look up.

And then I had a really ugly run in week 8, when I learned a valuable lesson in hydration: wine, champagne, and little to no water the night before a long run will result in cramping, dizziness and nausea when you're 5 miles into an 8. I upped my H2O consumption considerably after that point.

Suddenly, finally, that following week, something clicked. My weekday runs were awesome--easy, non-stop, and--dare I say it?--fun.

The following Sunday, I did eight again, and somewhere in mile three or four I realized that I felt good: my breathing was under control, the shin splint in my left leg was relatively quiet, and I knew that I could run all eight without stopping. So I did. And I did it again last week. (Yeah, the schedule said 10, but whatever...if I can run 8, I can run 13.1.)

And here I am. It's race week, and I'm actually, for the first time ever, really excited to do this. I'm not, nor will I ever be a gazelle, but I'm fine with that. I've actually improved my per mile time over the last three weeks, received lots of complements about my apparent svelteness, and feel good about beating my personal best from the Chicago race.

Holy shit, I am a runner.

Adventures in Hot Sauce Making

2010-10-04T13:00:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know it's been over a month since I've posted anything--believe me, I've tried, but wasn't quite feeling the inspiration. Don't get me wrong, the kitchens at Ham Sandwich, Inc. have been hard at work the past month churning out homemade BBQ sauce, brandied peaches and plums, an obscene amount of baked goods, and a damn delicious pork shoulder--but writing down my assorted adventures was feeling a bit trite, even forced. It happens.

Fortunately for you folks at home, I tackled the new and mildly dangerous land of hot sauce this weekend, and am pleased to say that I survived to post about it, with all my mucous membranes intact. Yay!

See that rounded red pepper in the foreground of the picture above? That's a fresh, evil Naga Jolokia Ghost Pepper, one of four given to me by a former coworker as obsessed with food as I am. (Shoutout: Lauren, you'll be sorely missed around here!)

See the jalapeño tree in the picture below? If I had a more recent photo, it would show a 5 foot tall plant covered in red, ripe jalapeños. It was like a south-of-the-border Christmas tree and something had to be done with the presents. Hot sauce it was.

I picked about a pound of jalapenos off the tree, then pulled out the assorted red peppers (hot, sweet, unknown) I'd been collecting in my fridge, including one jolokia. Because I'm: 1 ) impatient and 2) lazy, I decided to stem and de-seed said peppers sans rubber gloves. Please note that pretty much any and every site that tells you how to make hot sauce encourages the wearing of gloves when handling peppers, and they're right--really, you should. I'm a good example of how NOT to do things (see previous post on jolokia shooters), but figured that my non-patented, two fingers-of-my-left-hand-pepper-hold/slice-and-scrape-with-the-knife-in-the-right-hand technique would keep my contact with searing capsaicin to a minimum. Surprisingly, it sort of worked, and while the tips of my left fingers experienced a slight tingling sensation for about a day, it was nothing I couldn't handle.

I waited until the last second to deal with the Jolokia, convinced it was a time bomb of death waiting to melt the flesh off any uncovered extremities. Since I'm not a complete fool, I did improvise a glove out of a plastic grocery bag when stemming and de-seeding, as it measures one million on the Scoville scale (a green pepper measures zero, a jalapeño, about five thousand). I tossed it into the processor unscathed.

What I couldn't handle was the roasting of peppers in a hot, dry skillet. Those juicy slices of fire hit that pan, started steaming, and the next thing I knew my kitchen was filled with a chokingly hot haze of vaporized capsaisin. Cue me: cursing, eyes watering, gasping and stumbling out onto my back patio. Thankfully, my neighbors weren't around to witness the insanity, and for the rest of the cooking process I kept the door open, and the stove fan on.

After roasting the peppers to a slight char, I pureed them in the food processor with enough apple cider vinegar to bring them to a nice consistency, some salt, and about a half cup or so of sugar--enough to allow me to taste something other than heat. Pretty good.

I poured the puree into the skillet and let it simmer for a minute or two to bring all the flavors together--the picture kind of looks like a lake of fire you'd see in one of Dante's lower levels of hell--then water-canned it, resulting in about one and a half pints of sauce. And so, with that, I joined the ranks of my brother and other chili-heads, producing the one and only (and very limited edition) "Caught Red-Handed" hot sauce.

Who has the cojones for a taste-test?

Zagat Fast Food Survey--How'd Your Favorite Burger Do?

2010-08-25T09:49:00.000-07:00

The results are out on Zagat's yearly fast-food/full-service chain survey. Top finishers included Five Guys (best burger, fast food), Red Robin (best burger, full service), Panera (best salad, fast food), McDonald's (best fries, fast food) Outback Steakhouse (best steak, full service), and Olive Garden (best value, full service).

Obviously, there's a lot of room for debate--but having not tried Five Guys yet, I can't really state an opinion... I have, however, had In-and-Out Burger a few times in my life and loved it. Also, if we're looking a little more locally, Graffiti Burger is pretty damn delicious.

Check out the complete results here and let me know what you think--where do you go for a quick, cheap burger? Do you secretly crave the Olive Garden house salad every now and then?

Road Trip!

2010-08-23T07:56:00.000-07:00

Have you been looking for a store where you can buy canned Hungarian goulash, stock up on alligator jerky, browse thousands of types of hot sauce, take home a couple durian fruits, and pick up a 50 lb bag of peanuts? Looking for an obscure cheese or microbrew (or maybe, you're keeping it real with some Genesee)? Would you also like to be entertained by assorted animatronic figures including Lucky the Leprechaun, a talking ear of corn, and a Campbell's soup can on a swing? Then you probably should give up on your plans to get stuff done around the house, jump in the car and head to Fairfield, Ohio to check out the mega-grocery store that is Jungle Jims.

The Jungle Jim's empire started as a produce stand, and is now a nationally-known grocery store, events center, and mall complex. Apparently, there's a monorail, too. It's 6 1/2 acres of random food fun--along with a giant produce, meat, and cheese section, there's condiments from every country. (Need a giant bottle of Maggi seasoning--good old MSG? What about some Tasty Joy? What the hell is Tasty Joy?)

Perhaps you would like some cheese, shaped and wrapped in wax to look like assorted objects? If you're lucky, you might even see the head honcho, Jungle Jim himself--he's been known to wander the store dressed like a wizard or British explorer. Jungle Jim's also offers cooking demos and beer and wine tastings, so really, you could make an event of the whole thing...

...which we did, in a way. H.S.'s sister (pictured above), sis's husband, and yours truly took the scenic route 42 down to the Jungle, passing through London, Xenia, Cedarville, Lebanon, and Mason, Ohio. It was a great way to check out a part of Ohio that you would otherwise miss if you took the freeway, plus we found these:

...three random train cars, parked on a lot on a side street in Cedarville. Of course we got out and explored:

This is what we found on the insides...

Aren't road trips the best?

Taco Bell Tackles Tacos

2010-08-15T12:10:00.000-07:00

Tacos! They're the darlings of the food world (at least here in Columbus), and Taco Bell has jumped on to the taco bandwagon to serve "high-quality, freshly-prepared Mexican tacos...that combine the traits of authentic street tacos with the familiarity of Taco Bell value." (That's from the website.) Thus, ladies and gentlemen, Taco Bell presents the Cantina Taco.

In the spirit of experimentation and not being a bitchy food snob (I try, really, but damn, it's hard to not be one), I made a run for the border after a Clippers game Saturday night, to try these Cantina tacos. The commercials make them appealing enough: two attractive young people enjoying their Cantina tacos on a sunny patio, as a lime wedge with a generic Hispanic accent--yes, a slice of citrus--gives the voice-over, extolling the virtues of an "authentic" taco experience. And god knows I'm a sucker for a sexy-talking lime wedge.

For $2.79, I picked up two Cantina Tacos--chicken and carnitas. If you aren't sure what you're ordering when you ask for a carnitas taco, fear not, as the giant signs in the Taco Bell windows explain that "Carnitas = Spanish for Shredded Pork." ...Those folks at the Bell are nothing if not helpful.

Upon arriving home I was psyched to see AN ACTUAL LIME WEDGE tucked into the foil wrapping of the tacos. I was less psyched to realize that the lime wedge would not be talking to me in sexy-Latin-lover style.

After unwrapping them all the way, this is what I saw:

Pretty thin on the toppings, huh? (They looked bigger in the promos...)

First the chicken taco.
It was pretty uneventful--generic "taco-mix"-flavored white meat pieces that were somewhat spongy, suspiciously and uniformly peachy in color, and lacking in grill marks....I'm thinking perhaps Taco Bell is at the forefront of the mainstream sous vide movement? There was a decent amount of fresh chopped onions, to give it a little crunch (bonus!), but it was dismally short on the cilantro. The squeeze of lime helped give it a little zing, but lime juice on microwaved chicken is still lime juice on microwaved chicken. Overall: meh--not terrible, but I'd rather have a chicken soft taco.

On to the carnitas.
I was looking forward to this one, in all honesty. I freakin love a good pork product, and had some high (and clearly misplaced) hopes for Mr. Carnitas. Enthusiam was quickly dampened by the minimal filling, and reduced further to apprehension at the appearance of the shredded pork: anemic, pastel colored, and possessing an unnatural, gelatinous sheen. A squeeze of Senor Lime and a bite--and I realized that I would never have to wonder what canned cat/dog food tasted like, because I now knew. Yes, in all seriousness, it tasted the way that canned pet food smells. Fake- meaty in flavor, with a similar (same) taco seasoning that the chicken had. A few more bites to confirm that I wasn't being to snap-judgey, but yep, it was still bad--the texture was not so much shredded pork, but soggy pork. Not to mention that this taco had even fewer onions and cilantro than the chicken. Verdict: hells no.

A quick word (ok, two) on the double-wrapped corn tortillas themselves: flavorless and flaccid. And if they were grilled, as advertised, they were grilled in a steamer.

In short, and not surprisingly, Taco Bell manages to take what in any taco truck in the city is a simple and delicious product and turn it into a cheap, poor-tasting facsimile. Ironic, being that they're named Taco Bell and all. If you're craving a late night snack after an evening at the bars, stick with the tried true classics (7-layer burrito or bean burrito, anyone?) and get your taco fix from those fine folks over at tacotruckscolumbus.com. (Huh, looks like they did a little taste-test themselves!)

Life Lessons From Anthony Bourdain

2010-08-05T12:25:00.000-07:00

"I have long believed that it is only right and appropriate that before one sleeps with someone, one should be able--if called upon to do so--to make them a proper omelet in the morning."

...Thus begins Anthony Bourdain's list of Things Everyone Should Know How to Make. I'm just about wrapping up his latest book, Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook, and you know, I think he's dead on with this one.

Chances are, you know Anthony Bourdain. You've most likely watched No Reservations on the Travel Channel, and you possibly also read his first memoir, Kitchen Confidential. Maybe you even saw his lecture when he came through on tour last year. You may or may not agree with a lot of what Bourdain says...he's crass, strongly opinionated, and did manage to annoy at least few Columbus foodies during his recent stop in Columbus for a short No Reservations piece.

I, frankly, love the man. I enjoy his self-deprecating humor, his penchant for profanity, and his unabashed obsession for food. Medium Raw shows us a slightly more grounded Bourdain--one that is more concerned about the power of Ronald McDonald over his daughter's dietary habits, rather than where he might be getting his next hit of coke. He's a cleaner (of drugs, but not, thankfully, vocabulary), wiser Bourdain, but still has choice words for certain chefs, Alice Waters (whom he doesn't really consider a chef), and the meat-packing industry.

...but back to the original line of this post. Bourdain's chapter entitled "Virtue" argues that learning to cook should be a part of our youthful education, much like the Presidential Physical Fitness Programs tried to instill in us an enthusiasm for, well, chin-ups...(ok, bad example.) He's not looking to go back to a home-ec/women-in-the-kitchen mentality, but to make having a basic level of comfort in a kitchen just another component of being a well-rounded human being.

I LIKE it! Cooking can be a little challenging, but also fun, messy, exciting, romantic, maybe even sexy. (And who doesn't love ALL of those things?!?!) Besides, his list isn't impossible to teach: make a basic vinaigrette. Steam shellfish. Braise a big piece of meat. Make mashed potatoes--from scratch. Roast a chicken.

These may seem basic, but I can personally attest that there are folks out there that don't have these skills...but it's not to late to learn. With that in mind, here's how I roasted a chicken the other night. This is loosely based on the "Quick Roast Chicken" recipe from those fine experimenters over at Cook's Illustrated. Also don't freak out, but there is hacking involved.

Basic Roast Chicken

Ingredients:

One whole chicken

Butter

Salt & Pepper

Any other seasoning you may want to use--a spice mix, herb mix, maybe a sliced up lemon?

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 450 and spray a large baking dish with non-stick spray (or coat it in butter)

Take your chicken out of its package, pull the bag of giblets out of the inside and give the whole thing a good rinse and pat dry with paper towels.

Place the chicken breast-side down (you DO know where the breasts are, right?) and with the drumsticks pointing toward you. Take the biggest, sharpest knife you have, or if you're lucky (I'm not), poultry shears. Cut/hack down the length of the chicken's back along one side of the backbone (you're not actually cutting the backbone, you're just detaching it from the little rib bones). At this point, you should be exalting in the sound of crunching dominance over your upcoming meal--this is primal, aggressive stuff! Repeat this same cut on the other side of the backbone. You should be able to remove the backbone at this point--I tossed it in the pan when I roasted the chicken, to use for stock later. Flip the bird over and press down on the breasts to help flatten it out.

Take the butter, hopefully a little soft, and rub it all over the chicken. You can also stuff some butter in between the skin and the meat of the breasts--just pull the skin up and slide your fingers underneath to loosen it up. Liberally salt and pepper the whole thing, (or use whatever seasonings you've picked out) making sure to also season the cavity/non-breast side.

Place the chicken in the pan, breast side up, and slide into the oven. You'll want to cook it until the temperature at the meatiest part gets to 160 degrees. I set my timer for 45 minutes at first, to see how it was looking and make sure the skin was getting crispy without getting burnt. I think I ended up cooking it for another 20 minutes, covering it with foil for the last 15 or so.

When you've reached 160, pull the chicken out of the oven, wrap in foil, and let him rest for about 15 minutes. You should have moist, tender meat with crispy, seasoned skin, and enough food to get you through a couple of meals. Strain the accumulated juices into a measuring cup and skim/pour the fat off the top....instant au jus!

If you're feeling particularly responsible, strip off any leftover meat from the bones and freeze them in a Ziploc bag. Once you have a decent size bag o' bones, you can throw them in a pot of water with an onion, a couple of carrots, and some celery stalks and make a basic stock.

If you try this a couple of times, you'll figure out what works best for you and your oven, then can get more elaborate with pre-brining the bird, or stuffing it with compound butters. At that point, you can invite over your friends and loved ones and impress them with your culinary skills. (And make Mr. Bourdain feel a little bit better about the state of our modern world.)

Whole World Restaurant & Bakery: Because Sometimes, You Don't Have to Eat Meat...

2010-08-04T10:09:00.000-07:00

A few nights ago, the family and I enjoyed a fantastic meal at the newly re-opened Whole World Natural Bakery Restaurant in Clintonville. Unfortunately, I'm a terrible blogger (sorry friends), and forgot to take pictures of any of the actual dishes--just two cookies that I saved and ate the next day for lunch. (Which, for the record, were delicious!)

Did you know that Whole World is Columbus' oldest vegetarian restaurant (founded in 1978)? Their lengthy menu includes appetizers, soups, salads, sandwiches, and pizza, all made with fresh veggies in small batches. The daily soup options for the evening I was there included African Peanut, Gazpacho, Unstuffed Green Pepper (a rice-stuffed green pepper, deconstructed into soup form), and Verde (chunks of tender potatoes in a puree of five green veggies.) Among their daily entree items were Truffled Penne & Cheese, a Potato & Brie Quesadilla, and a Red Lentil Burger.

I went with the Verde soup--dark green (MUST be healthy!), rich, flavorful, and served with a whole grain toast that was great for dunking. To share, the seven of us ordered the Guacamole Pizza--essentially a cheese pizza topped with a layer of Whole World's house made guac, diced tomatoes, and alfalfa sprouts. Creamy, with a bit of crunch from the sprouts, on a flavorful whole wheat crust. Our entrees included the Seitan Gyro (gigantic, and delicious, according to tasters), the Truffled Penne & Cheese (I liked the peas and carrots that were tossed into the pasta, but could have used a little more truffle), and the Avocado Croissant Sandwich.

For dessert we shared a plate of assorted cookies, and I can definitively state that the chock-full- of-chocolate chocolate chip cookies and molasses-spice cookies were top-notch: uber-buttery, crisp on the edges and chewy in the middle. (Clearly, these were NOT vegan cookies.)

If you've been hitting the cookouts a little too hard and are feeling a little over-carnivorous, head up to Whole World, load up on their great veggie dishes, and know that you can always have that bacon-wrapped hot dog another day...

Summertime Risotto

2010-07-21T10:37:00.001-07:00

So, we've already discussed the fact that the Ham Sandwich loves risotto as a vehicle for whatever random ingredients you have lying around your kitchen (see prior Green Risotto recipe). In keeping with the tomato theme of the past few days, my sister and I decided to throw together a dinner that would utilize said bountiful tomatoes. Since we also had a couple of ears of corn on hand, as well as some risotto, the decision was practically made for us.

To drink, we cracked open a bottle of what's probably the best dry Riesling I've ever had: 2008 Fireblock Riesling Watervale. I'm not what you'd call a "pro" at pairing wines with foods, but the crispness of the wine really balanced out the richness of the risotto. If you're into wine (or wanting to get into wine), I really, really, really recommend checking out Gary Vaynerchuk at Wine Library. His store, and especially his wine tasting show, Wine Library TV, are some of the best things to come out of New Jersey. (Um, not that Jersey is not great...) He offers great deals on wine, and does a fantastic (and non-intimidating) job exploring and evaluating wine. His show on Trader Joe's Two Buck Chuck is a good place to get an idea of how he operates.

Anyway...enough gushing...here's the recipe...

Roasted Tomato and Sweet Corn Risotto

1 dozen or so ripe Roma tomatoes, quartered

2 ears of corn, husks and silk removed (or a cup of frozen)

1 small onion, diced

Olive oil

1 cup risotto

1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic

4 cups veggie broth (or chicken, if you're not a vegetarian)

White wine--for drinking and splashing

Whipping cream

Grated Parmesan

Handful of fresh basil

Salt & Pepper

Blanch the ears of corn for about 5 minutes in a pot of boiling water, until tender. While they're blanching, throw the quartered tomatoes on a baking sheet and place under the broiler until they start to char. When the corn is tender, remove from the water and allow to cool. Cut the kernels off the cob (I find this is easier if I break the cobs in half). When the tomatoes are broiled to your liking, remove from the oven and set aside.

Heat a large skillet, add a splash of olive oil and saute the onion until translucent (medium heat). Add the risotto, cook for about 2-3 minutes, or until the grains are also translucent. Add the garlic, and a splash of white wine, then 1 cup of broth. Add more broth by the cupful as it is absorbed by the risotto. When it's getting to the point of tender, turn the heat to low and toss in the corn, tomatoes,a splash of the whipping cream (yes, I measure a lot of stuff in 'splashes'), Parmesan, and basil. Fold everything together, add salt and fresh cracked pepper to taste.