February 2005 Archives

The little town I grew up in is not so little anymore, and it has two major chain supermarkets that sit across Main Street from each other, Safeway and King Soopers.

I found a great Mexican-food section in the King Soopers, though. Cans of dulche de leche, dried chilis, five pound bags of masa harina. I brought home some Mexican chocolate for hot cocoa and a chorizo spice packet. A comparative tasting of hot chocolates to come.

The little town I grew up in is not so little anymore, and it has two major chain supermarkets that sit across Main Street from each other, Safeway and King Soopers.

I found a great Mexican-food section in the King Soopers, though. Cans of dulche de leche, dried chilis, five pound bags of masa harina. I brought home some Mexican chocolate for hot cocoa and a chorizo spice packet. A comparative tasting of hot chocolates to come.

Todd's been in the doghouse the last few weeks - until this weekend he hadn't had a day off for about a month. Then he took a trip to Finland for business, which is why I took a trip home to Colorado.

But while I was staring at a cupboard full of meal replacement bars and drinks at my parents', Todd was eating a Scandinavian meal at a nice place in Helsinki. Fortunately for our marriage, the Helsinki airport offers a good selection of food gifts. He brought me some caramels and birch syrup, which I guess is the equivalent of maple syrup, although I did notice it starts with a sugar syrup and then adds the birch stuff.

I have to admire the Finn's package designs, at least. I reserve judgement on the food itself.

I spent the last few days in Colorado with my parents and for my last night there I decided to make the lamb in the previous post. They had really liked their first taste of lamb, the lamb pitas we had the last time they visited.

Then my brother and his wife said they'd like to come, but she doesn't like the idea of eating baby sheep, so I added a chickpea stew to the menu (identical to the chickpea soup without the stock, water and bouillon). To round out the meal I added some roasted zucchini and dates and mint tea for dessert. I piled the lamb on a bed of couscous.

My dad and I prepared it together: shopping for ingredients, preparing the spice mix and prepping the meat in advance, chopping, sauteeing, etc. Last Chistmas I lamented not having someone to cook with, and now I have someone! And it's so gratifying to cook for a group of folks, and introduce them to new flavors.

Todd was in Finland while I was in Colorado, and that's inspired me to try a Scandinavian menu next. I wonder if I stll have that Aquavit galley floating around?

I'm loving this All About Braising cookbook. I made so many changes and took so many shortcuts, but it still tasted awesome. I had wanted to make braised lamb shanks from another cookbook but my stinginess took over when I saw how much it would cost, so I went for the much cheaper lamb stew meat. This recipe was for lamb chops but I figured the spices and the technique would work with the meat I bought.

I mixed the spices and rubbed it on the meat the night before I cooked it. And I took shortcuts with the spice mix (used ground instead of toasting seeds then grinding them, which I know compromises the flavor, but it's either that or don't cook at all). I even didn't have coriander and fennel, the two main spices (see, it's an amazingly forgiving recipe). I did have black pepper, allspice, salt, ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, turmeric and cayenne, so I mixed it up, tossed it with the cubes, then let it sit in the fridge overnight and most of the next day.

Two hours before dinner I browned the meat in butter, then removed it from the pan and added a sliced onion and some turmeric (should've been saffron). Cooked until soft, then added 2 minced garlic cloves and stirred less than a minute, then added a cup of water and the meat with it's juices. Covered it and cooked it in a 300 degree oven for 1 1/2 hours. Served over couscous with chopped parsley on top.

On my list of reasons to be sad about leaving my job to stay home with the baby is that I no longer have access to cast-off copies of new cookbooks. One of the last ones I got my hands on before leaving was Molly Stevens' All About Braising, which I've really been enjoying. I made a pot roast and the peperonata from it, and tonight I took some liberties with a Moroccan-spiced lamb chop recipe (more about that later).

The upshot of that is that, for the first time in a while, I'm picking out my own cookbooks. Todd bought me two for V-day: Julia and Jacque Cooking at Home and The Slow Mediterranian Kitchen. David Leite posted an interview with Paula Wolfert, the author of the latter cookbook, on his Leite's Culinaria. recently. In it they complained about how everyone's interested in food but no one cooks anymore. So it's ironic that I've really enjoyed reading her cookbook but have yet to make anything from it. But, as she says in the interview, it is the reading material that makes her cookbook unique. Someone could steal her topic but never reproduce the results. Kind of like some recipes (bread, for one).

We had some leftover strawberries from our Valentine's Day fondue, so I finally got to try something I'm aways reading as a serving suggestion: strawberries and balsamic vinegar. Julia Child suggests macerating the strawberries with a little bit of sugar in balsamic, which is what I did. It tends to make the strawberries taste more like strawberries, sweet with a tang. What I liked even more was the liquid that was left, a mixture of the strawberries' juices and the balsamic. I drizzled it over poundcake and topped it all with the strawberries. I actually think the poundcake was too sweet; most recipes I see are for the mixture served with sabayon or mascarpone.

Today a friend brought over some fantastic floral-flavored chocolate from Cacao Sampaka, which was featured in Saveur's February issue. I tried a rosemary one and another one I couldn't identify. It had a smokey, almost musty taste, and I think it may have been jasmine tea, just because it seemed like a tea flavor and that was the only tea in the box.

The rosemary one was an utter surprise: The chocolate and rosemary flavors were so distinct, separate, the chocolate a backdrop for that foresty rosemary flavor. It tasted so unique and recognizable at the same time. I'm hooked.

Unfortunately I don't know how to get my hands on more. The chocolates are sold in Barcelona, Madrid, Valencia and Girona, according to Saveur. They do have a web site, though they don't seem to sell online.

Today a friend brought over some fantastic floral-flavored chocolate from Cacao Sampaka, which was featured in Saveur's February issue. I tried a rosemary one and another one I couldn't identify. It had a smokey, almost musty taste, and I think it may have been jasmine tea, just because it seemed like a tea flavor and that was the only tea in the box.

The rosemary one was an utter surprise: The chocolate and rosemary flavors were so distinct, separate, the chocolate a backdrop for that foresty rosemary flavor. It tasted so unique and recognizable at the same time. I'm hooked.

Unfortunately I don't know how to get my hands on more. The chocolates are sold in Barcelona, Madrid, Valencia and Girona, according to Saveur. They do have a web site, though they don't seem to sell online.

Todd and I were sitting in one of our favorite quick-bite places, La Mancha Empanadas on Austin street, when a man walked in and asked if they had any low-fat options. Fortunately, they do not. The guy behind the counter (I think he may have been the owner) mentioned some healthier fillings but confessed that the dough, which is thick and flaky, is not low in fat (thank goodness!).

He was equally frank with me when I asked, upon taking one to go, if it was hot. "Yes. If it weren't, it'd be like a brick." I don't know how they do it. The empanadas are piled high in the case, but I've never had one here that was anything but fresh and hot (except for the dessert ones - apple, cherry, guava and on one occasion chocolate and cream - which are served cold). I can't pass up the spinach and cheese, but Todd's tried a few - chicken, pork. They have other nontraditional fillings, like pizza, barbecued pork and ham and cheese.

Todd and I were sitting in one of our favorite quick-bite places, La Mancha Empanadas on Austin street, when a man walked in and asked if they had any low-fat options. Fortunately, they do not. The guy behind the counter (I think he may have been the owner) mentioned some healthier fillings but confessed that the dough, which is thick and flaky, is not low in fat (thank goodness!).

He was equally frank with me when I asked, upon taking one to go, if it was hot. "Yes. If it weren't, it'd be like a brick." I don't know how they do it. The empanadas are piled high in the case, but I've never had one here that was anything but fresh and hot (except for the dessert ones - apple, cherry, guava and on one occasion chocolate and cream - which are served cold). I can't pass up the spinach and cheese, but Todd's tried a few - chicken, pork. They have other nontraditional fillings, like pizza, barbecued pork and ham and cheese.

There were so many goodies in the package Todd got me for my birthday that I'm just now getting into the chocolate bar that was included. It's Chocolate and Hazelnut Gianduja, a silky-smooth milk chocolate, which has made me realize how much I prefer darker, coarser chocolate. I can see why someone would like this smooth, melty chocolate (and I'm definitely going to eat it, and enjoy it), I just like my chocolate with more bite.

There were so many goodies in the package Todd got me for my birthday that I'm just now getting into the chocolate bar that was included. It's Chocolate and Hazelnut Gianduja, a silky-smooth milk chocolate, which has made me realize how much I prefer darker, coarser chocolate. I can see why someone would like this smooth, melty chocolate (and I'm definitely going to eat it, and enjoy it), I just like my chocolate with more bite.

Last night while making dinner I made peperonata: braised a thick-sliced onion with 2 sliced bell peppers, a generous pinch of salt and some red pepper flakes. I say "braised" because I got the recipe from All About Braising by Molly Stevens and because the vegetables are cooked in a skillet in olive oil with the lid on, so they exude a lot of juice. Cooked them for 45 minutes, then hit them with some balsamic vinegar and put them in the fridge.

Ate the peperonata at room temperature on some toasted country bread smeared with goat cheese. You need something tangy to balance the sweetness of the peppers. It's amazing how something so simple can be so good.

Last night while making dinner I made peperonata: braised a thick-sliced onion with 2 sliced bell peppers, a generous pinch of salt and some red pepper flakes. I say "braised" because I got the recipe from All About Braising by Molly Stevens and because the vegetables are cooked in a skillet in olive oil with the lid on, so they exude a lot of juice. Cooked them for 45 minutes, then hit them with some balsamic vinegar and put them in the fridge.

Ate the peperonata at room temperature on some toasted country bread smeared with goat cheese. You need something tangy to balance the sweetness of the peppers. It's amazing how something so simple can be so good.

I had a weird confluence of reading material sent my way last week. One former coworker sent me the new Ruth Reichl book, Garlic and Sapphires, and another sent me an interview with William Grimes that was in Newsweek when Grimes resigned as restaurant critic (the coworker ran across it while doing some research). Then there was an article in the Times about the loathing restaurant workers feel toward diners. They just all drove home to me the weird interaction between diners and the restaurants they go to.

When Reichl was offered the job as the New York Times’ new restaurant critic, she said the Times should be writing reviews not for people who will go to the restaurants but for those who may never set foot in them. Yet throughout her new book is evidence that she does feel responsibility toward the more disenfranchised of the dining public to portray an honest picture, because they will act on her advice. No doubt her ability to write food porn would have been better if she had shown up to restaurants as herself and let them lavish her with their best efforts. Instead she became the kind of characters who often receive servers’ scorn.

It makes sense, but I never realized high-profile reviewers would go to such lengths to disguise their identities. One of the pleasures of the book is Reichl’s exploration of how her various disguises affected her. I ate it up.

But it strikes me as odd that restaurants are willing to create such an artificial experience for reviewers, and therefore artificially high expectations for their diners. In her book Reichl describes an instance when one of her guests paid the check for the couple sitting next to them, who obviously had saved their money to go to what reviews had called one of the most romantic restaurants in the city. It also served about the worst food and had treated the young couple very badly. That's a familiar scenario.

It's kind of terrible that eating at a great restaurant is for a lot of people an entirely uncomfortable experience that they're paying a huge amount of money to have.

I had a weird confluence of reading material sent my way last week. One former coworker sent me the new Ruth Reichl book, Garlic and Sapphires, and another sent me an interview with William Grimes that was in Newsweek when Grimes resigned as restaurant critic (the coworker ran across it while doing some research). Then there was an article in the Times about the loathing restaurant workers feel toward diners. They just all drove home to me the weird interaction between diners and the restaurants they go to.

When Reichl was offered the job as the New York Times’ new restaurant critic, she said the Times should be writing reviews not for people who will go to the restaurants but for those who may never set foot in them. Yet throughout her new book is evidence that she does feel responsibility toward the more disenfranchised of the dining public to portray an honest picture, because they will act on her advice. No doubt her ability to write food porn would have been better if she had shown up to restaurants as herself and let them lavish her with their best efforts. Instead she became the kind of characters who often receive servers’ scorn.

It makes sense, but I never realized high-profile reviewers would go to such lengths to disguise their identities. One of the pleasures of the book is Reichl’s exploration of how her various disguises affected her. I ate it up.

But it strikes me as odd that restaurants are willing to create such an artificial experience for reviewers, and therefore artificially high expectations for their diners. In her book Reichl describes an instance when one of her guests paid the check for the couple sitting next to them, who obviously had saved their money to go to what reviews had called one of the most romantic restaurants in the city. It also served about the worst food and had treated the young couple very badly. That's a familiar scenario.

It's kind of terrible that eating at a great restaurant is for a lot of people an entirely uncomfortable experience that they're paying a huge amount of money to have.

I love these oven pancakes. They're very eggy and so simple to make that cleanup's really easy. I've never had a clafouti but I always imagine it's something like this, like a set custard. It puffs up quite a bit in the oven.

First you preheat the oven to 425, then put 2 tablespoons of butter in a pie plate and put that in the oven. Once the butter's melted, I covered the bottom of the plate with some bottled sour cherries (not cherry pie filling; just cherries in juice). Put that back in the oven, then whisked together 3 eggs, 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup flour, a teaspoon sugar, a pinch of salt and a grating of nutmeg. Pour that into the heated pie plate, over the cherries, and bake for about 16 minutes, until set and the puffed-up edges are nice and brown. Slice and serve. We ate it with maple syrup.

You could probably add more sugar or flavorings like vanilla. The original recipe used sliced almonds instead of cherries, or you could add different cooked fruit, like apples. Maybe even make a savory one, with smoked salmon, ham or bacon, or some cheese?

I had baked the shrimp (450 degree oven with lemon juice and zest, olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper) last night and we only ate half of it, so I was looking for a way to use the rest without cooking it more. Jamie Oliver does this thing with cold couscous and lemon dressing, so I decided to try that.

Whisk 2 tablespoons lemon juice with 5 tablespoons olive oil, salt and pepper in a large bowl. Whisk in 1 cup cold water, then 1 1/2 cups couscous. Let sit 15 minutes. Last night I added the shrimp, cold, and quartered artichoke hearts. Kind of a summery dish, but it was balmy around here today - 41 degrees!

In addition to the cassoulet and cake, we had a simple salad on my birthday: just romaine, vinaigrette and some grated Parm from my Zingerman's box. And I'm eating the salad and thinking it's one of the best I've had, but I can't figure out why. The flavor was full and mellow, almost thick and buttery. Then I realized it was the cheese.

Maybe it was some special alchemy with the sweet, thick balsamic I used in the dressing. I even felt weird about the combo, but it stood up. All that richness worked beautifully with the hearty, crisp romaine.

As a followup to my previous post: the cassoulet was good, and the cake was dense and moist, better than their sometimes dry cupcakes. As for the frosting, a little goes a long way since it is almost pure butter, too rich. Every plate always ends up with a smeary gob left on it.