Cooking Misc.: November 2003 Archives

The food story in tomorrow's New York Times magazine is about how chefs come up with specials, and it's really all the same things you always hear (which means it must be true): what's seasonal, available; happy delivery mistakes; and the one that can make you believe you shouldn't order the pot pie or soup special, because the chef's trying to pull a fast one on you by using up what didn't sell yesterday or the day before and calling it "special."

But that last one, and our empty refrigerator, made me realize something about myself: Given an empty refrigerator, my options of what to fix are only limited by what I can think up and afford, and that paralyzes me. I pile up cookbooks and food magazines on the sofa next to me and start flipping through them, stacking them up, open and facedown. Then I start going through a second time to make a list, and decide that what I have chosen isn't interesting enough, substantial enough, "fall" enough, healthy enough. I really go nuts. I guess that probably says a lot about me.

But I do thrive on a produce drawer full of wilting greens and aging carrots, three-week-old gouda in the fridge, bones in the freezer, sprouting potatoes in the bin. I'm a pantry-forager, a scavenger. I'm inspired by what we have left, what we need to use before it goes bad, like chefs in the old days with their specials. But I think it's kind of like a sonnet: Rules and boundaries and restrictions take away some of your decisions, which gives you freedom to focus on the others, and come up with something truly spectacular. A few generations ago they did that out of necessity, to save money, which I still find can be a good reason for it.

I have a coworker who always goes to her brother's for Thanksgiving, so the next day she and her husband roast their own turkey because they want to have the leftovers. I love that. Maybe next year I'll do it.

The food story in tomorrow's New York Times magazine is about how chefs come up with specials, and it's really all the same things you always hear (which means it must be true): what's seasonal, available; happy delivery mistakes; and the one that can make you believe you shouldn't order the pot pie or soup special, because the chef's trying to pull a fast one on you by using up what didn't sell yesterday or the day before and calling it "special."

But that last one, and our empty refrigerator, made me realize something about myself: Given an empty refrigerator, my options of what to fix are only limited by what I can think up and afford, and that paralyzes me. I pile up cookbooks and food magazines on the sofa next to me and start flipping through them, stacking them up, open and facedown. Then I start going through a second time to make a list, and decide that what I have chosen isn't interesting enough, substantial enough, "fall" enough, healthy enough. I really go nuts. I guess that probably says a lot about me.

But I do thrive on a produce drawer full of wilting greens and aging carrots, three-week-old gouda in the fridge, bones in the freezer, sprouting potatoes in the bin. I'm a pantry-forager, a scavenger. I'm inspired by what we have left, what we need to use before it goes bad, like chefs in the old days with their specials. But I think it's kind of like a sonnet: Rules and boundaries and restrictions take away some of your decisions, which gives you freedom to focus on the others, and come up with something truly spectacular. A few generations ago they did that out of necessity, to save money, which I still find can be a good reason for it.

I have a coworker who always goes to her brother's for Thanksgiving, so the next day she and her husband roast their own turkey because they want to have the leftovers. I love that. Maybe next year I'll do it.

Have you ever had hot zabaglione? I actually thought it sounded kind of strange, a sauce made of egg yolks, sugar and marsala. It's whipped in a round-bottomed zabaglione pan (or the top of a double boiler) over gently boiling water until cooked. I was expecting something like custard, but it's much airier and tastes strongly of the wine. Palmira's serves it alone in a small wine glass, as well as with chocolate gelato with fruit. I had it alone last night when we ate here, which was the perfect introduction to it. It was a great way to squeeze in dessert after a big meal.

The proprietors' daughter, Jennifer Desmond, had sent me some menus, and there were a number of appetizers, salads and desserts I wanted to try (including the zabaglione), but I actually ended up liking the entrees we had the best (granted, we didn't give them much chance to show off with the starter, since we order antipasti, which was good). We both ordered specials. Mine was rigatoni with duck ragu, which was exactly what I had been shooting for when I made ragu: super-rich, with this deep, meaty flavor. Todd had branzino, which seems to be their fish of choice, with oranges, tomatoes(?) and olives (very adventurous of Todd, but he really liked it). Todd doesn't usually like sweets except for dessert, but the flavors of the sauce were so well-balanced, the oranges were more acidic with just a hint of sweetness, cutting through the briney olives.

I never would have found the restaurant on my own, but it's actually pretty easy to get to once you know it's there, especially if you're already downtown: one stop into Brooklyn on the 2 or 3 train, then get off at Clark Street and it's right around the corner, 41 Clark Street. The location kind of illustrates one of the strange things about New York: You can be so easy to get to, but if you're not right on a main street with lots of foot traffic, it's hard to fill seats. Palmira's is pretty big, with two main dining areas (they do host lots of parties, especially this time of year), and on a Thursday night it felt kind of empty. It seemed reasonably priced (we would have spent about $100 for antipasti, wine, beer, entrees, two desserts and coffee) with pretty good food. Everyone's friendly there, the service is good, the dining area is comfortable, which makes it feel like a neighborhood place that's still looking for its neighborhood.

I had some folks over the other night and was required to provide snacks (a pleasure), so I put out this cake, some spiced apple cider in the slow-cooker (apple cider, whole cloves, a couple cinnamon sticks and a sliced orange and then let the whole thing sit on low; last Christmas when I was at my parents I had a cookerful of this going all day and it gets more intense the longer it stews), dried apricots and figs and some really sharp Cheddar cheese with crackers.

The cake recipe is another one of those Cooking Light one-bowl recipes. I had made it right before everyone showed up so it would be warm, but it was actually better the second day, and even better the third (the spices almost seem to intensify). I don't have the recipe on me right now, so I'll have to post it later.

Fired up the broiler for the first time last night (I'm running out of new features) to make a quick tuna melt: I mixed the rest of that olive-oil packed tuna with capers, celery, pepper and a little mustard to hold it together, then spread that over a piece of bread I had toasted under the broiler on the low setting (two broiler settings! who ever heard of such a thing?). Added some cheese to the top (roasted pepper would've been nice here, too), then put it back under the broiler until the cheese was getting blistery.

Tuna melts are another thing I remember eating a lot of when I was a kid, which can make any food feel like comfort food. Ended the meal by making a stovetop rice pudding with some leftover rice, milk, sugar, cinnamon, a crushed cardamom pod, nutmeg and rose water (I was reaching for the vanilla when I noticed the rose water in my cupboard and thought that might give it an interesting twist - it did, although I think I may have added a little more than was necessary).

Fired up the broiler for the first time last night (I'm running out of new features) to make a quick tuna melt: I mixed the rest of that olive-oil packed tuna with capers, celery, pepper and a little mustard to hold it together, then spread that over a piece of bread I had toasted under the broiler on the low setting (two broiler settings! who ever heard of such a thing?). Added some cheese to the top (roasted pepper would've been nice here, too), then put it back under the broiler until the cheese was getting blistery.

Tuna melts are another thing I remember eating a lot of when I was a kid, which can make any food feel like comfort food. Ended the meal by making a stovetop rice pudding with some leftover rice, milk, sugar, cinnamon, a crushed cardamom pod, nutmeg and rose water (I was reaching for the vanilla when I noticed the rose water in my cupboard and thought that might give it an interesting twist - it did, although I think I may have added a little more than was necessary).

I promised Eric that I would mention the maple butter he made for the dinner Saturday night. Four sticks of room-temperature butter, 1/4 cup maple syrup, some cinnamon and I think vanilla all whisked together then refrigerated. Eric put it all in a shallow dish and made decorative swirls on top before he put it back the in the fridge. It was terrific on the sweet-potato biscuits he made, but I think it'd be even better on buttermilk pancakes. I'm sure he and his wife, Lisa, will come up with lots of uses for it, especially since they have the better part of a pound left.

I have a new oven! It has a waist-high broiler (instead of a broiler drawer), a special high-powered burner and another, low-powered burner for simmering things, it's self-cleaning, has two built-in timers (one that actually turns the oven off when the time's run down), and a convection feature. It's not as wide as my old oven, which is going to take some getting used to (I used to have lots of extra surface area on the actual stovetop where I could put things down). It's still a gas oven and stovetop, which I like.

Anyway, I've been repeatedly foiled in my attempts to use it. It arrived yesterday afternoon but wasn't hooked up and ready to go until about an hour before I had to leave last night. Then tonight I had the slowest subway ride, so I got home later than usual (a ride that normally takes 30 minutes took three times as long). The good thing about the extra-long ride is that it gave me a chance to think about what to have for dinner.

I ended up having pasta with oil-packed tonna (tuna), capers and olive oil. I put the oil in a small saucepan on the simmer burner and dropped a crushed clove of garlic in there, to infuse the oil with the garlic. Cooked the pasta on the power burner; not sure if the water came to a boil faster, but this Barilla pasta I got, spaghetti rigati (spaghetti with ridges), really does cook in 5 minutes. I tossed the tuna and capers into the oil, then added the pasta. Tossed it all together, added some grated Parm, and was eating 15 minutes after I walked in the door. The oil could have used a little more garlic flavor, but overall it was a pretty good meal (and amazingly quick).

It's not really that late yet. Maybe I'll give the oven its first spin with some brownies.

I have a new oven! It has a waist-high broiler (instead of a broiler drawer), a special high-powered burner and another, low-powered burner for simmering things, it's self-cleaning, has two built-in timers (one that actually turns the oven off when the time's run down), and a convection feature. It's not as wide as my old oven, which is going to take some getting used to (I used to have lots of extra surface area on the actual stovetop where I could put things down). It's still a gas oven and stovetop, which I like.

Anyway, I've been repeatedly foiled in my attempts to use it. It arrived yesterday afternoon but wasn't hooked up and ready to go until about an hour before I had to leave last night. Then tonight I had the slowest subway ride, so I got home later than usual (a ride that normally takes 30 minutes took three times as long). The good thing about the extra-long ride is that it gave me a chance to think about what to have for dinner.

I ended up having pasta with oil-packed tonna (tuna), capers and olive oil. I put the oil in a small saucepan on the simmer burner and dropped a crushed clove of garlic in there, to infuse the oil with the garlic. Cooked the pasta on the power burner; not sure if the water came to a boil faster, but this Barilla pasta I got, spaghetti rigati (spaghetti with ridges), really does cook in 5 minutes. I tossed the tuna and capers into the oil, then added the pasta. Tossed it all together, added some grated Parm, and was eating 15 minutes after I walked in the door. The oil could have used a little more garlic flavor, but overall it was a pretty good meal (and amazingly quick).

It's not really that late yet. Maybe I'll give the oven its first spin with some brownies.