Beauty that rivals taste

Sometimes I feel like all I do is rip off other people's ideas. What's the quote, "I'm not original, I'm resourceful"? Yeah. That. Maybe originality is overrated. I don't know. Anyway, I was talking the other day with someone about salads, and thought, "Salads. That's a great idea." And so, a few days later, when it was 90 degrees and I could not be paid to turn my oven on, a salad graced our dinner table.

Now, there is nothing particularly "original" about this salad. Salads in our household are made in much the same way I make my soups, which is to say, with whatever needs to be used up in the refrigerator, but I just happened to have a particularly harmonious group of ingredients lying around. I started with a mix of spring greens, topped with paper thin slices of strawberries and cucumbers, followed by chopped coconut, avocado, shrimp, and some fresh Greek basil, then drizzled with a lite raspberry vinaigrette and accompanied by "homemade croutons" (or, ummm...the last bit of stale baguette coated with butter and garlic powder and stuck under the toaster oven's broiler for a few minutes.) This salad's beauty quite rivals its taste.

An excuse

Today's short little post is really just an excuse to direct you here, to a wonderful alternative to Nutella which uses, instead of hazelnuts, you guessed it....tahini! (Thanks, Gaps!)

Ants on a Log, using the tahini-tella instead of raisins.

This is, for now, the maximum quantity of this stuff I an allowing myself to eat at one sitting, as I really could eat it by the spoonful.

A holdover

Not much about a cloudless, 75 degree evening screams Chana Masala, so I'm not sure why I passed up the grill, winking at me from its new patio spot, to spend an hour over a hot stove top. But I did. I blame it on my inability to repurpose the chickpeas I bought a few weeks ago, while it was still chilly, with the intention of making Indian food. Sometimes I get a one-track mind, and I just can't let go. At least momentarily turning my kitchen into a sauna was worth it.

This recipe is an adaptation of Molly Wizenberg's, over at Orangette. I've been following her blog for about a year and half, have read and proselytized her book, and even had the pleasure of meeting her a few months ago...(and looking all silly when I waited for an hour after her reading to thank her and tell her what an inspiration she is. I might have even gotten teary. I can't be sure. Let's move on.)

Chana Masala

1/4 cup good-quality olive oil
1 medium onion, coarsely chopped
2 medium cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp fresh, minced ginger
1 tsp garam masala
1 tsp ground cardamom
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
1/2 pint diced grape tomatoes
1 tsp kosher salt, or to taste
1 Tbs cilantro leaves, roughly torn, plus more for garnish
1 28-ounce cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed

* 6-8 Tbs plain whole-milk yogurt, optional
A few lemon wedges, optional

Saute the onion in the olive oil over medium heat, stirring frequently, until deeply carmelized, and even charred in spots. Be patient. The more color, the more full-flavored the final dish will be.

Reduce the heat to low. Add the garlic, ginger, cumin, garam masala, and cardamom, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add ¼ cup water, and stir to scrape up any brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Cook until the water has evaporated away completely. Pour in tomatoes with their juices and the salt.

Raise the heat to medium, and bring the pot to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer the sauce gently, stirring occasionally, until it reduces a bit and begins to thicken. Taste, and adjust the seasoning as necessary. Add the chickpeas, stirring well, and cook over low heat for about five minutes. Add 2 Tbs water, and cook for another five minutes. Add another 2 Tbs water, and cook until the water is absorbed, a few minutes more. This process of adding and cooking off water helps to concentrate the sauce’s flavor and makes the chickpeas more tender and toothsome. Taste, and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

Stir in the yogurt, if you like, or garnish with lemon wedges and cilantro. Serve.

*I chose to leave out the yogurt of mine.

I'll take that in a gallon size, please

A few friends and I were eating at a creperie in NYC and mounted on the wall, like a prize buck, was a gallon sized jar of Nutella. This of course made me wonder, "If you could have one over sized pantry item, what would it be?" Joe went with the Nutella. I can't remember what Rachel picked. Mine? Tahini. I'm not sure it would be my all-time, definitive answer, though thinking about it now, I can't think of what I'd rather choose. It's strange I should pick tahini because I'm not very knowledgeable about Middle Eastern food, but the few things I've had it in I could eat daily, my favorite being tarator to go on things like kibbe, shwarma, and just about anything other poor vegetable or meat that happens to be helplessly trapped in my fridge.

Yesterday, during my first trip to a Lebanese bakery and market I came across this...

Do you know what that is? It's Tahini. In a BUCKET!!! And if I wasn't on such a minuscule budget, I might have brought it home. (Forgive the pixelated stock photo. I couldn't bring myself to embarrass my poor friend by whipping out a camera in the middle of the tiny market, though the thought did cross my mind.) I was a good girl and only brought home a little jar, some Arabic bread and a spice packet of sumac, which I have no idea how I'll use, but it was such a gorgeous red I couldn't resist.

Tonight I put the tahini and Arabic bread right to use, along with the shwarma seasoning that's been taunting me from my spice cabinet the last few months and made a (non authentic, but at least in the ballpark) chicken shwarma wrap, along with asparagus and roasted potatoes with a garlic-cilantro pesto. I don't think shawarma is supposed to be grilled, but it was an unseasonably warm night, and L surprised me with supplies for a bonafide cocktail hour so there was no way I was going to spend the evening's waning light inside.






I marinated the chicken for 4 hours in a 1/2 c. of malt vinegar, a few tablespoons of oil, 1/4 cup of sour cream (because I didn't have plain yogurt,) a few tablespoons of shwarma seasoning, a teaspoon or so of allspice, and a few pinches of sumac and cardamom. Oh, and of course a little salt.

The potatoes came from a site a friend recently turned me on to... Taste of Beirut, which I haven't had a chance to properly explore, but will, especially since I now know how to get to both Lebanese markets.

Link to the potato recipe.

A new chapter

It's not that I've been cooking and failing to update. It's that I haven't been cooking at all. I've been living on canned black beans and hard boiled eggs. (Not at the same time.) These last few weeks have been absolutely crazy. I've been to Philadelphia, Cape Cod, working 30+ hours a week at a job that's almost an hour away, filing taxes, finishing up work in the studio, writing bios, shooting images of work...etc. You get the point. There hasn't been a whole lot of extra time for cooking.

But as you can see from the picture, I found a spare minute to prepare dinner. I sort of had to. Tonight was a fairly momentous occasion, which in our household is almost always marked by a memorable meal. L and I have talked about it off and on for years, but today marks the day when I actually quit my job to pursue a career as a studio artist. I can feel my excitement and anxiety increase as I type this. It's kind of a big deal. And a big deal requires a special meal. At least for me.

This recipe is a conglomeration of a few different sources.
The polenta part comes from over at the NY Times and Mark Bittman's "Minimalist" video series. I absolutely love Mark Bittman, not only for his simple, non-fussy cooking, but because every time I watch him it reminds me of what Alan Arkin might be like if he hosted a cooking show. And that just makes me giggle.

Here's the link for the original polenta video.

The second part of the recipe comes from the Best of America's Test Kitchen 2009 Cookbook, a well-worn cookbook in my collection.

Spanish-Style Garlic Shrimp

(The recipe calls for serving this dish with a crusty bread for dipping in the oil, which I've done and which is quite lovely. I just happened to have a bit of polenta in the cupboard to finish off.)

Ingredients

14 garlic cloves
1 lb. large shrimp, peeled and deveined
8 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1 bay leaf
1 piece mild dried chile, such as New Mexico, roughly broken, seeds included
1 1/2 teaspoons sherry vinegar
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

1. Mince 2 of the garlic cloves with a chef's knife or garlic press. Toss the minced garlic with the shrimp, 2 tablespoons of the oil and salt in a medium bowl. Let the shrimp marinate at room temperature for 30 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, using the flat side of a chef's knife, smash 4 garlic cloves. Heat the smashed garlic with the remaining 6 tablespoons of oil in a 12 inch skillet over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally until the garlic is light golden brown, 4-7 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and allow the oil to cool to room temperature, Using a slotted spoon, remove the smashed garlic from the skillet and discard.

3. Thinly slice the remaining 8 cloves. Return the skillet to low heat and add the sliced garlic, bay leaf, and chile. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the garlic is tender but not browned, 4-7 minutes. (If the garlic has not begun to sizzle after 3 minutes, increase the heat to medium-low.) Increase the heat to medium-low; add the shrimp with the marinade to the pan in a single layer. Cook the shrimp, undisturbed, until the oil starts to gently bubble, about 2 minutes. Using tongs, flip the shrimp and continue to cook until almost cooked through, about 2 minutes longer. Increase the heat to high and add the sherry vinegar and parsley. Cook, stirring constantly, until the shrimp are cooked through and the oil is bubbling vigorously, 15-20 seconds. Serve immediately.


That's the scripted recipe in its entirety. Let me tell you about the substitutions I've made. First, I almost never have a dried New Mexico chile. I've used pasillo and guajillo and they've both turned out fine. A bit spicier, but fine. The recipe says you can substitute paprika for the chile, which I've never done, but I bet would be good. Also, I almost never have sherry vinegar, and though I'm not sure this is a proper culinary substitution, I almost always have a bottle of red wine lying around and a little white wine vinegar, and in a pinch, those two combined work okay.

So that's it. I threw the shrimp over the polenta, topped it with more fresh parsley and some of the shrimp's wonderful cooking oil, and voilà, a decadent, celebratory meal!

Spanish-Style Garlic Shrimp over Polenta

Some like it hot

Maybe if I hadn't seen Julie and Julia I wouldn't have picked it up to begin with, but it certainly wasn't the reason I brought home Mastering the Art of French Cooking. No, when I lifted the well-worn book, it fell open to the page on roast chicken and the first words I read were:

"You can always judge the quality of a cook or restaurant by roast chicken. While it does not require years of training to produce a juicy, brown, buttery, crisp-skinned, heavenly bird, it does entail such a greed for perfection that one is under compulsion to hover over the bird, listen to it, above all see that it is continually basted, and that it is done just to the proper turn."

A greed for perfection? I was completely won over, and the special, local bird I had been saving in the freezer to accompany my daughter's beloved coconut (which she's insisted on keeping in her room) in some sort of curry concoction, got immediately repurposed into a Julia Child roast chicken recipe.

My warning to you is that the recipe is long, and intimidating, but completely worth the effort. I think if you went only so far as step one, roasting the chicken, forewent all the other steps, and merely served a roasted chicken alongside a few, simply prepared veggies, it would still be worth it. But I'd encourage you to tackle the rest, if only because you get to light your pan on fire, and playing with fire is fun. I will caution, however, that if your stove top happens to be right next to a refrigerator decorated with pictures, inspiring quotes and children's artwork, you may want to take the time before torching your skillet to remove the valuables. It's just an idea.

It may seem lengthy, but I'm going to include Julia's full recipe, because her passion for the food comes through beautifully in the writing.

Please please please forgive the iPhone pictures. Of all the times to forget my camera in Chichester.



Poulet au Porto
(Roast Chicken Steeped with Port Wine, Cream, and Mushrooms)
Chicken, cream, and mushrooms occur again and again, as it is one of the great combinations. This perfectly delicious recipe is not difficult, but it cannot be prepared ahead of time or the chicken will lose its fresh and juicy quality. The chicken is roasted, then carved, flamed in cognac, and allowed to steep for several minutes with cream, mushrooms, and port wine. It is the kind of dish to do when you are entertaining a few good, food-loving friends whom you can receive in your kitchen.

Ingredients

A 3 lb. ready-to-cook roasting or frying chicken
1 lb. mushrooms
A 2 1/2 qt. enameled or stainless steel saucepan
1/4 c. water
1 1/2 Tbsp. butter
1/2 tsp. lemon juice
1/4 tsp. salt
1 c. whipping cream
1/2 Tbsp. cornstarch blended with 1 Tbsp of the cream
1/2 Tbsp minced shallots or green onions
1/3 c. medium-dry port
The mushroom cooking liquid
drops of lemon juice
A fireproof casserole or a chafing dish
1/4 cognac (I substituted brandy, as the budget wouldn't allow the purchase of a nice bottle of cognac. Maybe another time.)

Roast the chicken as described in the master recipe. (Julia's Roast Chicken (follow through Step 18))

Meanwhile, trim and wash the mushrooms. Quarter them if large, leave them whole if small.

Bring the water boil in the saucepan with 1/2 Tbsp. of the butter, lemon, and salt. Toss in the mushrooms, cover and boil slowly for 8 minutes. Pour out the cooking liquid and reserve.

Pour the cream and the cornstarch mixture into the mushrooms. Simmer for 2 minutes. Correct seasoning, and set aside.

When the chicken is done, remove it to a carving board and let it rest at room temperature while you complete the sauce.

Remove all but 2 Tablespoons of fat from the roasting pan. Stir in the shallots or onions and cook slowly for 1 minute. Add the port and the mushroom juice, and boil rapidly, scraping up coagulated roasting juices, until liquid has reduced to about 1/4 cup. Add the mushrooms and cream and simmer for 2 to 3 minutes, allowing the liquid to thicken slightly. Correct seasoning and add lemon juice to taste.

Smear the inside of the casserole or chafing dish with butter (1 Tbsp.) Rapidly carve the chicken into serving pieces. Sprinkle lightly with salt, and arrange in the casserole or chafing dish.

Set over moderate hear or an alcohol flame until you hear the chicken begin to sizzle. Then pour the cognac over it. Avert your face, and ignite the cognac with a lighted match. Shake the casserole slowly until the flames have subsided. Then pour in the mushroom mixture, tilting the casserole and basting the chicken. Cover and steep for 5 minutes without allowing the sauce to boil. Serve.

(*) Chicken may remain in its casserole over barely simmering water or in the turned-off hot oven with its door ajar, for 10 - 15 minutes, but the sooner it is served, the better it will be.

An addiction in black

I am so tired of the cold! I know it's not fair to complain as it's only March (which means at least a few more months of sweaters and scarves,) but we were blessed with a 70 degree day last weekend, and now I'm downright pissy about the return to normal early spring temperatures. I don't know if you have a go-to comfort food for cold weather days, but mine is definitely black beans. Not the kind dumped carelessly out of a can. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in any way above eating those (and do quite frequently.) But no, I'm talking about the bagged, dried, soaked, cooked-all-day kind. The kind where you've foreseen the night before that it might be a rough day, so you might as well have some good food while you're down there. I mean, there is nothing like sitting down to a steaming bowl of black beans with all the fixins. It's as close to nirvana as I can hope to get on a dreary winter day. My love for them, admittedly, might be in part due to the fact that simmering them for hours on end warms the house to a (finally!) tolerable temperature.

Now, usually I like them over the typical plain white rice, but I've had these corn husks and masa in my cupboard for months, so I threw together some tamales. Rick Bayless is my steady source for Mexican cooking. Absolutely every recipe of his I've attempted has turned out fabulous, and his recipe for basic tamales is no different.

Tamales seems like the kind of thing that could be all "fancy and gourmet" or you could just throw in whatever needs used up in the refrigerator...which is totally what I did this time. I happened to have some leftover green chili and a bit of cheddar cheese, so in they went.

It may not be traditional, but a tamale alternative to white rice was actually very nice with the black beans, both in taste and texture. And for a brief moment, on a soggy and cold spring day, I was warmed in both body and soul.

I'll just provide a link to Rick Bayless's tamale recipe, as it's pretty lengthy, though you shouldn't be intimidated by this, as they're quite easy to make.


Mexican Black Beans

My black beans are different every time I make them, but usually it goes like this...
I soak a half a bag overnight in water.
Drain the water the next morning and give them a good rinse. (leave them in the colander for the time being)
Finely chop half and onion and mince a clove or two of garlic. Sometimes I'll add some jalapeno or green pepper if I have it.
Saute until softened (about 5-6 minutes)
Add the beans, 5-6 cups of water, and a good pinch of cumin.
Bring everything to a boil, then cover and reduce to low.
Simmer for eternity. (I've left them from anywhere 3-6 hours)
Salt to taste before serving.
Serve with rice, tamale, in a tortilla, or by themselves.

There you have it. My go-to solution for fighting the rainy day/snowy day/ interminably cold day blues.