A friend who had joined us for a roast chicken dinner here at Chez Noshstalgia recently asked me today to share the recipe. Truth be told, we don't to it the same every time, but there are certain basics and a couple of main variations that tend to hold true.
Basic principles:
1) Buy the best. Recently, we've been buying Eberly's Organic, Free Range Chickens and we've been very pleased.
2) Unpack, remove excess fat, wash, and dry the chicken well in advance of cooking it - at least a couple of hours, and up to 12 hours before cooking is even better.
3) Once washed and dried, season the bird - again, more time with seasoning in place is better. 2 hours is good, 12 is better. If you won't be cooking the bird within the next couple of hours, once seasoned wrap it loosely so it can breath and put it back in refrigeration.
4) When applying seasoning, apply it inside cavities, under skin directly on the breast, leg and thigh meat as best you can, and all over the outside skin. Try not to puncture or tear the skin in the process and by all means do not remove skin when cooking a whole bird.
5) Allow the bird to come up to room temp (or at least to come well up from refrigerator temp) before starting to cook it.
6) Most of the time you'll want to roast the bird on a rack, not directly on the bottom of the roasting pan. There are exceptions but they are just that.
7) Do not overcook the bird. If you have purchased a bird that provides one of those pop-up timers, you probably have the wrong bird, and you will certainly overcook it if you wait for the timer to pop. These devices are intended to prevent lawsuits relating to food poisoning, i.e. to be sure that every potential pathogen has been well and truly killed - They are not there to assure you of a delectable meal. So, how can you tell when it's done? People talk about the leg moving freely (hard to tell if bird is trussed as it should be). People talk about the juices running clear and this is a good indication if you understand what they're telling you to look for. If I can't tell any other way, I resort to an instant read thermometer in the inside of the thick part of the the thigh. But whatever you do, don't dry it out.
From here on out, we branch to various modes of (oven) roasting:
A) Very high heat, short duration. (500 or even 550)
B) Start high, then settle to moderate oven. (450 for ten minutes then down to 350)
C) Continuous moderate oven. (350)
Certainly there are other approaches in the oven, but they tend to other than "roasted" treatments and so are beyond the scope of this posting.
Our oven is a commercial convection oven and so is very fast in general. Accordingly, I will not post our times as you're not likely to see similar performance in any residential oven. That said, if you go for the high heat option you will be amazed at how quickly you can roast a chicken - and at how succulent a quick-roasted bird can be. I recommend people take a look at Barbara Kafka's excellent book "Roasting, A Simple Art" which presents a number of variations on the quick roasted chicken theme (and many other fine recipes as well). I favor the high-heat method myself, but there are three important caveats -
1) Do not attempt this if you don't have very good ventilation. It will produce smoke and may result in your fire alarms going off if you're not exceptionally well ventilated at the oven location.
2) Do not attempt this if you have not allowed the bird to come up to (approximately) room temperature before putting it into the oven. A really cold bird won't get properly done inside before the outside burns if your oven is up that high.
3) Not recommended if you've got fresh garlic on the outside of the skin as it may burn and produce off flavors at these temps.
OK - I guess now we can get on the recipe I was asked for originally.
Prepare the bird as described above with a rub of kosher salt, freshly ground pepper (or better - a pepper melange*), fresh garlic, sweet paprika, thyme**, good Extra Virgin Olive Oil, and either freshly grated lemon zest or a drop (absolutely not more) of pure lemon oil. Truss the bird. Quick roast at high heat (make sure fan is running)
*(Pepper melange - an example: In a spice- (or coffee-) grinder, process 4 parts whole black peppercorns, 1 part white peppercorns, 1 part allspice, a little fresh nutmeg (I cut a 1/4" slice off a nutmeg and use about 1/2 of that slice), a couple of cloves (if they're fresh - more if older))
**If memory serves, on the occasion of my friend's visit, we might have had some fresh thyme on hand and so would have inserted a couple of sprigs of fresh thyme under the skin of the bird so it was in direct contact with the breast meat.
Serve with a nice salad and some crispy roast potato wedges - rubbed with the same rub, cooked in the same oven but under foil for about half the time so they don't burn. You want the high heat to crisp them at the end, but not burn them before they have a chance to cook through.
An earthy Pinot Noir would be ideal with this.
Enjoy.
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Monday, November 26, 2007
Flanken and musings on exercise, values, and food prices
With all the attention I've been giving to brisket, corned beef, pastrami, and now flanken it would be understandable if readers supposed we eat nothing but the heaviest of meats around here. Not so, we actually include lots of lighter fare in the mix - but these items have been the topic of study around here for the past few months. And I admit it's a lot of heavy meat.
So that got me thinking about a piece I saw on tv a while back - I think it was on PBS. They were profiling a guy who had set up his office so he could do all his work while walking on a treadmill. He had no desk or chair. His phone and workstation were mounted for use while walking on the treadmill. Throughout the day, as he did his work, he was walking continuously. He seemed happy. And healthy. I bet he could eat whatever he wanted with impunity.
So now I'm wondering (if only half seriously) how I could install a section of moving sidewalk in my kitchen work area. A challenge to be sure. The way my kitchen is set up, I have a number of workstations. While working at any one of these, the treadmill set-up could work. It's the moving from one to the other that's going to be hard. Hmmm.
Well anyway, until such time as I figure that out, let's talk flanken. Now flanken is a great cut of meat for braising.
But wait - first, stream of impending unconsciousness-wise - I've got to tell you, I just stepped over to my (still stationary) kitchen and sampled some experimental corned beef that's been steaming most of the afternoon. This steaming was actually the second phase of a multi-step cooking process that began early this morning. Wow! This is the tenderest piece of corned beef I think I've ever had. Not falling apart. Not dried out. But buttery soft. And I have to tell you there were times earlier in the day when I was sure this piece of meat would never be any good. Long, complicated procedure but a startlingly good result. Have to try this again tomorrow and see if it comes out the same. And then of course there's the question of economics. Will anyone be willing to pay a fair price for all the time, handling, and energy necessary to this process?
Ok, back to flanken. Talk about stick to your ribs. So I'm working with this stuff because I recently showed a customer a braised kobe brisket product that they went crazy over - except for the price. So now I'm trying to come up with something more affordable for them and that brings us back to flanken. This is a value cut with which you can obtain luxury results. I've prepared it many ways over the years, and it's pretty hard to go wrong as long as you go low and slow. Braised with some wine and aromatics, deviled, tagine with prunes or olives, whatever. Great stuff. I recommend you play with some this winter. There's plenty of good recipes available online.
So before I go, let me pose this question. Where chief-value meat ingredients and prepared foods are concerned, why is the variation in pricing allocable to quality (worst to best) so comparatively small? Certainly where some other kinds of products are concerned the spread is wide. Consider cheese. I can easily find domestic cheese offerings ranging from $2.00 to $32.00 per pound (16X). How about domestic wine? $2 to $200 per bottle is not a stretch (100X). In neither case are these fashion items or branded goods with large marketing budgets. They're just products that vary in quality and price where connoisseurs are willing to pay for what they like.
What about meat (or fish)? If you've been shopping in mainstream supermarkets lately, you must have noticed that run-of-the-mill steaks might cost you around $7 a pound. And, in many stores are likely to be graded "select" (feh). Not a high-quality piece of meat there. In a specialty butcher shop carrying high-quality commercial beef, and perhaps even dry-aging it, you might expect to pay 4 or perhaps 5 times that. Never mind the mail-order guys asking still more - that's a topic for another day. But the bricks-and-mortar retail spread from low to high for a given nominally identical cut of beef spans perhaps a multiple of 5 times. Why not more? I'm not arguing that we should all happily pay more - I'm just wondering why we do it for cheese and wine, but not for meat.
Any thoughts?
So that got me thinking about a piece I saw on tv a while back - I think it was on PBS. They were profiling a guy who had set up his office so he could do all his work while walking on a treadmill. He had no desk or chair. His phone and workstation were mounted for use while walking on the treadmill. Throughout the day, as he did his work, he was walking continuously. He seemed happy. And healthy. I bet he could eat whatever he wanted with impunity.
So now I'm wondering (if only half seriously) how I could install a section of moving sidewalk in my kitchen work area. A challenge to be sure. The way my kitchen is set up, I have a number of workstations. While working at any one of these, the treadmill set-up could work. It's the moving from one to the other that's going to be hard. Hmmm.
Well anyway, until such time as I figure that out, let's talk flanken. Now flanken is a great cut of meat for braising.
But wait - first, stream of impending unconsciousness-wise - I've got to tell you, I just stepped over to my (still stationary) kitchen and sampled some experimental corned beef that's been steaming most of the afternoon. This steaming was actually the second phase of a multi-step cooking process that began early this morning. Wow! This is the tenderest piece of corned beef I think I've ever had. Not falling apart. Not dried out. But buttery soft. And I have to tell you there were times earlier in the day when I was sure this piece of meat would never be any good. Long, complicated procedure but a startlingly good result. Have to try this again tomorrow and see if it comes out the same. And then of course there's the question of economics. Will anyone be willing to pay a fair price for all the time, handling, and energy necessary to this process?
Ok, back to flanken. Talk about stick to your ribs. So I'm working with this stuff because I recently showed a customer a braised kobe brisket product that they went crazy over - except for the price. So now I'm trying to come up with something more affordable for them and that brings us back to flanken. This is a value cut with which you can obtain luxury results. I've prepared it many ways over the years, and it's pretty hard to go wrong as long as you go low and slow. Braised with some wine and aromatics, deviled, tagine with prunes or olives, whatever. Great stuff. I recommend you play with some this winter. There's plenty of good recipes available online.
So before I go, let me pose this question. Where chief-value meat ingredients and prepared foods are concerned, why is the variation in pricing allocable to quality (worst to best) so comparatively small? Certainly where some other kinds of products are concerned the spread is wide. Consider cheese. I can easily find domestic cheese offerings ranging from $2.00 to $32.00 per pound (16X). How about domestic wine? $2 to $200 per bottle is not a stretch (100X). In neither case are these fashion items or branded goods with large marketing budgets. They're just products that vary in quality and price where connoisseurs are willing to pay for what they like.
What about meat (or fish)? If you've been shopping in mainstream supermarkets lately, you must have noticed that run-of-the-mill steaks might cost you around $7 a pound. And, in many stores are likely to be graded "select" (feh). Not a high-quality piece of meat there. In a specialty butcher shop carrying high-quality commercial beef, and perhaps even dry-aging it, you might expect to pay 4 or perhaps 5 times that. Never mind the mail-order guys asking still more - that's a topic for another day. But the bricks-and-mortar retail spread from low to high for a given nominally identical cut of beef spans perhaps a multiple of 5 times. Why not more? I'm not arguing that we should all happily pay more - I'm just wondering why we do it for cheese and wine, but not for meat.
Any thoughts?
Saturday, November 17, 2007
11/17 Tonight's Dinner with friends from the neighborood
Mediterranean Meze featuring:
Crudités, Marinated Olives, Baba Ganoush, Assorted Dolmas, Eggplant and Pepper Salad, Muhammara, Tomato & Pickled Pepper Salad, Feta & Pepper Crème, Patacabra cheese, Three breads,
And Libations from the Martini Bar
Kofta & Shish Kebabs of Icelandic Lamb
with Basmati Rice
Cotes du Rhone, Cairanne
A highly distinguished Dessert TBD
Domaine Castera, Cuvee Privilege, (Moelleux) Jurançon
Crudités, Marinated Olives, Baba Ganoush, Assorted Dolmas, Eggplant and Pepper Salad, Muhammara, Tomato & Pickled Pepper Salad, Feta & Pepper Crème, Patacabra cheese, Three breads,
And Libations from the Martini Bar
Kofta & Shish Kebabs of Icelandic Lamb
with Basmati Rice
Cotes du Rhone, Cairanne
A highly distinguished Dessert TBD
Domaine Castera, Cuvee Privilege, (Moelleux) Jurançon
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Thanksgiving Variations
The Boston Globe food section a few days back did a story on chef's improvisations on Thanksgiving themes. Here, some further, Noshstalgic thoughts on this topic -
For many families, Thanksgiving dinner is a more than a Noshstalgic tradition - it has become a ritual or even a fetish. No variation is permitted. The list of compulsory elements turkey, stuffing, potatoes (often more than one kind), cranberry sauce, a family heirloom recipe or two that makes their Thanksgiving theirs alone, etc. can be long. And, sometimes - at least for the cook - the joy of the holiday and gathering can become mired in the inevitability of the proceedings.
At Chez Noshstalgia - here in the home of someone who's seriously dedicated to preserving culinary tradition - we try hard to approach Thanksgiving as a fresh opportunity for invention every time. We have tended to view the rigorous form of holidays like Thanksgiving as a platform for a special kind of variation. The trick is to somehow hit the compulsories with just the right degree of imagination and flair to satisfy traditional expectations and excite people with something new, delicious, broadening, and (though novel) profoundly comfortable all the same time.
The other thing about Thanksgiving here, is that while we always have family about, we often include others as well. And even within the family, our ethnic diversity gives rise to a big range of traditions and tastes. There may be no other occasion where thoughtful consideration of ones guests is more important in composing a menu.
On a number of occasions over the past few years, our guests at Thanksgiving have presented a challenging array of allergies or other dietary restrictions. Celiac - no wheat, no gluten from any source. Eggs - allergic. Nuts and nut oils of any kind - lethally allergic. Chestnuts - not sure they say, but the word nut sounds possibly lethal, so no thanks.
Here's where the turkey ended up on a couple of such occasions:
Tuscan Roast Turkey with Polenta, Sausage, and Mushroom Stuffing
and
Roast Turkey with Cornbread, Butifarras and PX Sherry Macerated Figs Stuffing
I confess, those butifarras with figs went on to become something of a fetish around here. Making those sausages and soaking those figs really gets me going.
Same thing has happened with a mango/cranberry chutney side that started out as a response to some menu exigence or other. Funny how invention is the mother of tradition.
What to do this year? Feeding about 20 this year - and about the most traditional 20 I know. Hmmm -
For many families, Thanksgiving dinner is a more than a Noshstalgic tradition - it has become a ritual or even a fetish. No variation is permitted. The list of compulsory elements turkey, stuffing, potatoes (often more than one kind), cranberry sauce, a family heirloom recipe or two that makes their Thanksgiving theirs alone, etc. can be long. And, sometimes - at least for the cook - the joy of the holiday and gathering can become mired in the inevitability of the proceedings.
At Chez Noshstalgia - here in the home of someone who's seriously dedicated to preserving culinary tradition - we try hard to approach Thanksgiving as a fresh opportunity for invention every time. We have tended to view the rigorous form of holidays like Thanksgiving as a platform for a special kind of variation. The trick is to somehow hit the compulsories with just the right degree of imagination and flair to satisfy traditional expectations and excite people with something new, delicious, broadening, and (though novel) profoundly comfortable all the same time.
The other thing about Thanksgiving here, is that while we always have family about, we often include others as well. And even within the family, our ethnic diversity gives rise to a big range of traditions and tastes. There may be no other occasion where thoughtful consideration of ones guests is more important in composing a menu.
On a number of occasions over the past few years, our guests at Thanksgiving have presented a challenging array of allergies or other dietary restrictions. Celiac - no wheat, no gluten from any source. Eggs - allergic. Nuts and nut oils of any kind - lethally allergic. Chestnuts - not sure they say, but the word nut sounds possibly lethal, so no thanks.
Here's where the turkey ended up on a couple of such occasions:
Tuscan Roast Turkey with Polenta, Sausage, and Mushroom Stuffing
and
Roast Turkey with Cornbread, Butifarras and PX Sherry Macerated Figs Stuffing
I confess, those butifarras with figs went on to become something of a fetish around here. Making those sausages and soaking those figs really gets me going.
Same thing has happened with a mango/cranberry chutney side that started out as a response to some menu exigence or other. Funny how invention is the mother of tradition.
What to do this year? Feeding about 20 this year - and about the most traditional 20 I know. Hmmm -
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Follow up on Andy and Vicki Dinner
So, how'd things work out?
A minor disaster along the way notwithstanding, quite well.
Appetizer - Pumkin Ravs, buerre blanc, fried sage + 2000 Boglietti Buio
Everybody loved this course. Even Secondo went for seconds. He never made it to the main course. Disaster disclosure - a momentary lapse of attention cost me an extra bottle of white en route to the buerre blanc. Set the schedule back of course too as I had to reduce another. But this is a mere trifle. The results - even though later and more expensive than planned were stellar. And that Nebbiolo - WOW! Hadn't tried this wine for a while and it has grown into its very considerable self in the interim. Highly recommended.
Main - Venison Roast, Guanciale, PX Cippolini and Peppers, Roast Potatoes + Carlo & Julian Pinot
Mixed results here. Venison was very good, but along the way I found that I had underestimated the intensity of the guanciale and so had to adjust from the intended "robe" to a mere few jullienned strips draped criss-cross over the loins. A minor matter that resulted in no disappointment for anyone other than myself who had entertained a different image. No matter - the roast was very nice. The venison was decidedly not gamy and everyone managed to enjoy it despite some in the group having fond feelings toward Bambi and friends. The cippolini were terrific. The potatoes alas, were the real casualty of the first course buerre blanc delay. Not my best potatoes. Nobody really cared. A good thing, I guess. But it does make you wonder if any of the trouble is worth it. I mean honestly, if people aren't going to complain about defects - how much pleasure can we take in their praise of the good bits?
And then there was the Pinot Noir. I had selected it because I wanted some funk - but this was too much . Actually quite skunky - or maybe I should say rubbery - on opening. Resolved a bit over time - but not an attractive start. Slightest spritz too. Clearly something amiss. I have had this wine before - in a restaurant - and enjoyed it thoroughly (hence the case now on hand). Hope the rest of the case is ok. I'll report back.
And then people refused to go for a walk - and demanded dessert instead! None planned, we fell back on the fortuitous presence of ripe bananas, ginger root, Goslings, molasses, sugar, some good vanilla powder, fire and rich vanilla ice cream. Festive, fun, exothermic, and delicious.
A minor disaster along the way notwithstanding, quite well.
Appetizer - Pumkin Ravs, buerre blanc, fried sage + 2000 Boglietti Buio
Everybody loved this course. Even Secondo went for seconds. He never made it to the main course. Disaster disclosure - a momentary lapse of attention cost me an extra bottle of white en route to the buerre blanc. Set the schedule back of course too as I had to reduce another. But this is a mere trifle. The results - even though later and more expensive than planned were stellar. And that Nebbiolo - WOW! Hadn't tried this wine for a while and it has grown into its very considerable self in the interim. Highly recommended.
Main - Venison Roast, Guanciale, PX Cippolini and Peppers, Roast Potatoes + Carlo & Julian Pinot
Mixed results here. Venison was very good, but along the way I found that I had underestimated the intensity of the guanciale and so had to adjust from the intended "robe" to a mere few jullienned strips draped criss-cross over the loins. A minor matter that resulted in no disappointment for anyone other than myself who had entertained a different image. No matter - the roast was very nice. The venison was decidedly not gamy and everyone managed to enjoy it despite some in the group having fond feelings toward Bambi and friends. The cippolini were terrific. The potatoes alas, were the real casualty of the first course buerre blanc delay. Not my best potatoes. Nobody really cared. A good thing, I guess. But it does make you wonder if any of the trouble is worth it. I mean honestly, if people aren't going to complain about defects - how much pleasure can we take in their praise of the good bits?
And then there was the Pinot Noir. I had selected it because I wanted some funk - but this was too much . Actually quite skunky - or maybe I should say rubbery - on opening. Resolved a bit over time - but not an attractive start. Slightest spritz too. Clearly something amiss. I have had this wine before - in a restaurant - and enjoyed it thoroughly (hence the case now on hand). Hope the rest of the case is ok. I'll report back.
And then people refused to go for a walk - and demanded dessert instead! None planned, we fell back on the fortuitous presence of ripe bananas, ginger root, Goslings, molasses, sugar, some good vanilla powder, fire and rich vanilla ice cream. Festive, fun, exothermic, and delicious.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Slow Foods Pot Luck
We hosted a Slow Foods Pot Luck dinner last night at chez Noshstalgia. Being rather far out in the 'burbs, we attracted a small group - just four guests in addition to ourselves. Interestingly each attendee reported this to be their first Slow Foods pot luck and all but one reported this to be their first Slow Foods event of any kind. Lack of experience notwithstanding, everyone brought something delicious.
On offer:
Amuse: Polenta Toasts with Local Baby Lamb Bruschetta
Soup1: Acorn Squash and Fresh Picked Apple
Savory1: Leek, Goat Cheese and Walnut Tart
Savory2: Curry-Butter Roasted Cauliflower Crowns
Soup 2: Puree of root vegetables
Entree1: New Mexico Chile of Pork and Poblano Peppers with home-made tortillas
Entree2: Grilled Rib Chops of Local Baby Lamb
Dessert: White Chocolate, Challah Bread Pudding with Raspberry Sauce
Wine1: La Sauvageonne 2002 Pica Broca, Languedoc
Wine2: Willm 2006 Gewurztraminer, Alsace
Because we were a small group, we were able to sit down to a regular meal rather than milling and grazing as would have been required were there many more of us. A nice gathering and I encourage any readers to host or attend one of these soon. And if the group is smallish - so much the better.
On offer:
Because we were a small group, we were able to sit down to a regular meal rather than milling and grazing as would have been required were there many more of us. A nice gathering and I encourage any readers to host or attend one of these soon. And if the group is smallish - so much the better.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Baby Lamb Two Ways
I sometimes get baby lamb at the Halal butcher nearby. Since they like to sell it by the quarter, this most often this means dealing with a variety of cuts. On this occasion, I had a front quarter to work with so I had riblets (full length rib, minus rib-eye) , rib chops (rib eye with short-cut rib section), shoulder, and fore-shank. I had Robert cut the riblets into finger-food length sections two ribs wide and cut the rest up as for stew.
The riblets were destined for the grill after a light rubbing with a simple savory rub of EVOO, kosher salt, fresh garlic, pepper, oregano, and a drop of lemon oil.
Served the grilled riblets over a bed of convection roasted swiss chard drizzled with a bit of balsamic muscat glaze. In the oven, the chard stalks get cooked through and the leafy parts range from luxuriously moist where piled together to bone dry where more exposed to the oven's hot wind.
Wine: 1996 Hacienda Monasterio, Ribera del Duero
The stew meat was used for a long-and-slow cooked sweet tagine featuring preserved figs and yellow dates.
Served with 2000 Mas Igneus "FA112", Priorat
No time right now to document the recipe and procedure on the tagine but I do want to capture at least a note on the yellow dates and on the wine and how it paired with this dish.
Yellow dates: I have never used these before. I saw them at a small ethic produce place and picked them up on spec. I learned from a quick web search that there are 4 phases to date development. Green (not useful for food). Yellow - edible but not yet fully mature. Ripe. And finally dried. I was dealing with the yellow phase. I gather most people either eat them raw or just hold onto them and wait for them to ripen. I tried them raw, and found them quite good. Not as sweet as a fully ripened date, but definitely with the distinctive flavor or date plus a slight astringency. Very nice. In this dish, I cooked them in the stew. Worked very well. Retained good flavor and mouth feel. And presented a nice complement to the soft, sweet lushness of the preserved figs and the earthy nuttiness of the muhammara I snuck in.
Mas Igneus - A wonderful bottle of wine. But more importantly, the pairing worked out extremely well. The tagine was earthy, and sweetly fruity - with a sort of deep bass note sweetness with lots of overtones of distinct individual flavors riding through. Very satisfying, but much like a men's choir. Lots of good voices in harmony - but all bottom. The Priorat had the clarity of a bell - blueberry fundamentals unmistakable. The blueberry driven palate provided the upper register that completed the dish - now fully symphonic. Sometimes these things just work out.
The riblets were destined for the grill after a light rubbing with a simple savory rub of EVOO, kosher salt, fresh garlic, pepper, oregano, and a drop of lemon oil.
Served the grilled riblets over a bed of convection roasted swiss chard drizzled with a bit of balsamic muscat glaze. In the oven, the chard stalks get cooked through and the leafy parts range from luxuriously moist where piled together to bone dry where more exposed to the oven's hot wind.
Wine: 1996 Hacienda Monasterio, Ribera del Duero
The stew meat was used for a long-and-slow cooked sweet tagine featuring preserved figs and yellow dates.
Served with 2000 Mas Igneus "FA112", Priorat
No time right now to document the recipe and procedure on the tagine but I do want to capture at least a note on the yellow dates and on the wine and how it paired with this dish.
Yellow dates: I have never used these before. I saw them at a small ethic produce place and picked them up on spec. I learned from a quick web search that there are 4 phases to date development. Green (not useful for food). Yellow - edible but not yet fully mature. Ripe. And finally dried. I was dealing with the yellow phase. I gather most people either eat them raw or just hold onto them and wait for them to ripen. I tried them raw, and found them quite good. Not as sweet as a fully ripened date, but definitely with the distinctive flavor or date plus a slight astringency. Very nice. In this dish, I cooked them in the stew. Worked very well. Retained good flavor and mouth feel. And presented a nice complement to the soft, sweet lushness of the preserved figs and the earthy nuttiness of the muhammara I snuck in.
Mas Igneus - A wonderful bottle of wine. But more importantly, the pairing worked out extremely well. The tagine was earthy, and sweetly fruity - with a sort of deep bass note sweetness with lots of overtones of distinct individual flavors riding through. Very satisfying, but much like a men's choir. Lots of good voices in harmony - but all bottom. The Priorat had the clarity of a bell - blueberry fundamentals unmistakable. The blueberry driven palate provided the upper register that completed the dish - now fully symphonic. Sometimes these things just work out.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Kathy's Pan-Latin Dinner - results note
Some quick notes on the actual dinner first discussed here. First thing - too many items to pull together at once - especially after having spent the afternoon at a soccer game. We managed to get to some version of everything planned except the salad, but it was a bit rushed. Otherwise, quite good.
Some specifics on what we actually ended up serving:
Arepas - Not assorted, but one variety. Made with chicken stock, stuffed with Lomo and Comte, grilled on the char-broiler. Served with Hogao.
Carnitas - Soccer game considered, no time to do proper carnitas, but instead made "instant carnitas":
Marinate cubed picnic shoulder in Fresh orange juice, garlic, ground ancho, pepper melange, cumin seed, brown sugar, cinnamon, salt. Spread chunks out on baking pans so they have some air around them and roast in a 375 degree convection oven until done and nicely caramelized. Doesn't take long in there. For the record, please note again that this is not a proper carnitas, but it works well enough with all the fixins provided in this menu. And you can do it fast.
Grilled shrimp - simply prepared. On skewers, on char-broiler. Brushed with melted butter containing a crushed garlic clove and some Bay Seasoning.
Mexican Rice - As I said, things became a bit compressed in this plan, so just sautéed a couple of onions and a diced red pepper in olive oil, added (goya) medium grain rice to pan and tossed to coat. Cooked for a couple of minutes until some translucency apparent. Added salt and some of the Hogao prepared to accompany the arepas. And cooked in the open pan, in the manner of risotto, with chicken stock. Ended up whacking it with Hogao again along the way. Pretty tasty.
Salsas - did both. I'll put up a separate post on salsas later.
Guac - did more or less as described here recently. This version included roasted poblanos.
Habichuelas Negras - Again, time compression pushed this to the "instant" version. Goya black beans from can into a pan containing a copious quantity of EVOO in which a crushed garlic clove has been slightly cooked. Add Hogao (the all purpose short-cut this evening), salt to taste, smoked spanish paprika. Practically painless to produce (if you have the Hogao and paprika on hand) and very good.
I guess I'll owe you a post on Hogao down the line too.
Grilled the scallions on the char-broiler and then seasoned with EVOO, Maldon Salt, and an aged balsamic-style moscat glaze.
Drinks were as planned. Didn't have any suitably priced Rioja Tempranillo for the Sangria, so used Gotim Bru (tempranillo, merlot, cabernet). Also, added some cubed fuji apple along with the citrus. OK, this is embarrassing, but I threw in a splash of ginger ale too (maybe 4 oz to a bottle of wine). Not my usual procedure, but it needed something - and it worked.
The cake was very good. Even after Secondo dropped it on the way into the dining room. Even with the white rug. Even with the candles burning. No tears were shed. Rug's fine; most of the cake, and even some of the candles survived.
Some specifics on what we actually ended up serving:
Arepas - Not assorted, but one variety. Made with chicken stock, stuffed with Lomo and Comte, grilled on the char-broiler. Served with Hogao.
Carnitas - Soccer game considered, no time to do proper carnitas, but instead made "instant carnitas":
Marinate cubed picnic shoulder in Fresh orange juice, garlic, ground ancho, pepper melange, cumin seed, brown sugar, cinnamon, salt. Spread chunks out on baking pans so they have some air around them and roast in a 375 degree convection oven until done and nicely caramelized. Doesn't take long in there. For the record, please note again that this is not a proper carnitas, but it works well enough with all the fixins provided in this menu. And you can do it fast.
Grilled shrimp - simply prepared. On skewers, on char-broiler. Brushed with melted butter containing a crushed garlic clove and some Bay Seasoning.
Mexican Rice - As I said, things became a bit compressed in this plan, so just sautéed a couple of onions and a diced red pepper in olive oil, added (goya) medium grain rice to pan and tossed to coat. Cooked for a couple of minutes until some translucency apparent. Added salt and some of the Hogao prepared to accompany the arepas. And cooked in the open pan, in the manner of risotto, with chicken stock. Ended up whacking it with Hogao again along the way. Pretty tasty.
Salsas - did both. I'll put up a separate post on salsas later.
Guac - did more or less as described here recently. This version included roasted poblanos.
Habichuelas Negras - Again, time compression pushed this to the "instant" version. Goya black beans from can into a pan containing a copious quantity of EVOO in which a crushed garlic clove has been slightly cooked. Add Hogao (the all purpose short-cut this evening), salt to taste, smoked spanish paprika. Practically painless to produce (if you have the Hogao and paprika on hand) and very good.
I guess I'll owe you a post on Hogao down the line too.
Grilled the scallions on the char-broiler and then seasoned with EVOO, Maldon Salt, and an aged balsamic-style moscat glaze.
Drinks were as planned. Didn't have any suitably priced Rioja Tempranillo for the Sangria, so used Gotim Bru (tempranillo, merlot, cabernet). Also, added some cubed fuji apple along with the citrus. OK, this is embarrassing, but I threw in a splash of ginger ale too (maybe 4 oz to a bottle of wine). Not my usual procedure, but it needed something - and it worked.
The cake was very good. Even after Secondo dropped it on the way into the dining room. Even with the white rug. Even with the candles burning. No tears were shed. Rug's fine; most of the cake, and even some of the candles survived.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Guacamole
Guacamole for 4 (I don't claim this to be an authoritative or ethnically correct recipe - but it is very good.)
2 large ripe Hass avocados (ripe means yielding to gentle pressure - not rock hard, not caving in)
1 juicy Lime
1 1/2 thick slice of red onion, chopped (not too fine - pieces about 3/8" on average)
Optionally: diced jalepeno or diced roasted poblano pepper to taste.
Dijon mustard
Worcestershire Sauce
Hot sauce (The default choice for most audiences if Frank's Red Hot. If your tastes run to more heat, try a Habanero based sauce like Melinda's XXXHot instead. The important thing though is to avoid sauces that are absurdly hot and without redeeming flavor profile. There are many on the market that are more about macho than food. I recommend you avoid these.)
Kosher Salt
A note on proportions: I've deliberately left quantities off the condiment ingredients because the quantities there will vary both with your taste and with the ripeness and quality of your avocados. In the procedure below, I'll provide approximate typical values - but your mileage may vary.
Procedure:
In a broad, shallow bowel (like for cereal), combine chopped onion, diced peppers (if used), 1 teaspoon dijon mustard, and one (or 2) shake(s) of Worcestershire.
Halve and seed your avocados and scoop the avocado meat from the shells into the bowel with a tablespoon. Remove any blackened or otherwise spoiled portions.
Using the tablespoon, chop and mash the avocado meat and incorporate the onion and condiments mixture. Process only long enough to mix well - do not completely break down the avocado.
Now sprinkle Kosher salt to taste over the top, add three or so good shakes of the hot sauce of your choice and the juice from 1/2 of the lime. Mix to combine and taste. Correct seasoning with additional salt, lime juice, or hot sauce as indicated.
Bear in mind that these three seasonings act not only to accentuate their respective flavors, but also to diminish the impact of the others. This is especially true of the salt and the lime. So you can effectively adjust things both up and down. If you really go overboard and feel you can't recover - don't despair - just add another avocado (and more onion (peppers) if desired) to cut things back and readjust. Oh yes, and invite two more guests.
Good with chips as an appetizer. Or as a garnish with main courses. If using chips, try to stay away from excessively salty chips. Or correct salt balance in your mouth with Margaritas. Ole!
2 large ripe Hass avocados (ripe means yielding to gentle pressure - not rock hard, not caving in)
1 juicy Lime
1 1/2 thick slice of red onion, chopped (not too fine - pieces about 3/8" on average)
Optionally: diced jalepeno or diced roasted poblano pepper to taste.
Dijon mustard
Worcestershire Sauce
Hot sauce (The default choice for most audiences if Frank's Red Hot. If your tastes run to more heat, try a Habanero based sauce like Melinda's XXXHot instead. The important thing though is to avoid sauces that are absurdly hot and without redeeming flavor profile. There are many on the market that are more about macho than food. I recommend you avoid these.)
Kosher Salt
A note on proportions: I've deliberately left quantities off the condiment ingredients because the quantities there will vary both with your taste and with the ripeness and quality of your avocados. In the procedure below, I'll provide approximate typical values - but your mileage may vary.
Procedure:
In a broad, shallow bowel (like for cereal), combine chopped onion, diced peppers (if used), 1 teaspoon dijon mustard, and one (or 2) shake(s) of Worcestershire.
Halve and seed your avocados and scoop the avocado meat from the shells into the bowel with a tablespoon. Remove any blackened or otherwise spoiled portions.
Using the tablespoon, chop and mash the avocado meat and incorporate the onion and condiments mixture. Process only long enough to mix well - do not completely break down the avocado.
Now sprinkle Kosher salt to taste over the top, add three or so good shakes of the hot sauce of your choice and the juice from 1/2 of the lime. Mix to combine and taste. Correct seasoning with additional salt, lime juice, or hot sauce as indicated.
Bear in mind that these three seasonings act not only to accentuate their respective flavors, but also to diminish the impact of the others. This is especially true of the salt and the lime. So you can effectively adjust things both up and down. If you really go overboard and feel you can't recover - don't despair - just add another avocado (and more onion (peppers) if desired) to cut things back and readjust. Oh yes, and invite two more guests.
Good with chips as an appetizer. Or as a garnish with main courses. If using chips, try to stay away from excessively salty chips. Or correct salt balance in your mouth with Margaritas. Ole!
Kathy's Pan-Latin Birthday Dinner
Kathy's requested Mexican. Meanwhile, in correspondence with the estimable Nika of Nika's Culinaria, (an excellent food blog with among other things amazing photography), I've been discussing Columbian arepas - and since they're another favorite of Kathy's the menu has expanded to become rather more pan-Latin. The plan as it stands (pre-shopping and thus not yet validated):
Assorted Mini-Arepas with Hogao
Freshly Squeezed Herradura+Cointreau Margaritas
Field Greens & Native Tomatoes
Carnitas & Grilled Shrimp
Mexican Rice
Fresh Red & Green Salsas
Guacamole
Habichuelas Negras
Grilled Scallions
Corn Tortillas
Sangria
Ponque Leche y Miel
Coffee
When time permits I'll get back to you (assuming you exist) with recipe details.
Assorted Mini-Arepas with Hogao
Freshly Squeezed Herradura+Cointreau Margaritas
Field Greens & Native Tomatoes
Carnitas & Grilled Shrimp
Mexican Rice
Fresh Red & Green Salsas
Guacamole
Habichuelas Negras
Grilled Scallions
Corn Tortillas
Sangria
Ponque Leche y Miel
Coffee
When time permits I'll get back to you (assuming you exist) with recipe details.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Is your market alive? Is your kitchen a temple...
A temple? An operating room? A laboratory? A factory? A work space? A play space? A party space? A cafe? A vestige? An ornament?
Does the restaurant restore you? The deli delight? The bakery raise your spirits?
Is your food store a market? A store? A bazaar? A gulag? Ever wandered the aisles in search of food, only to leave empty handed? Or perhaps you filled your basket as you usually do - but left empty hearted? Is the give and take there confined to the cash registers?
I try to find and frequent places where I can fill both my basket and my spirit. And this isn't just about the food. Great food is a necessary, but not sufficient condition to achieve that special energy - that feeling I so love. The really alive places are sometimes hard to find, but it's worth it.
A couple of favorites:
Arak's Market on Mount Auburn Street in Watertown, MA - a family run store offering produce, prepared Armenian specialties, olives, pickled vegetables, desserts, breads, cheese and grocery specialties of interest to the Armenian community, hookahs, and an inimitable atmosphere.
Wasik's Cheese Shop in Wellesley, MA - a family run store offering the best cheese in the best condition, with the best service, a warm and personal greeting and a smile.
One Stop International Market in Lowell, MA - a family run store offering freshly butchered Halal baby goat and lamb and some other groceries of interest to their local Muslim and North African customers.
Harkey's Wines in Millis, MA - a family run store offering a personally selected assortment of fine wines along with truly personal service and great advice.
Say, I'm noticing a pattern here - these are family run businesses. Is this essential to the experience? Have we found the 'je ne sais quois'? Can I cite a counter-example?
Thinking...
...
....
.............
Does the restaurant restore you? The deli delight? The bakery raise your spirits?
Is your food store a market? A store? A bazaar? A gulag? Ever wandered the aisles in search of food, only to leave empty handed? Or perhaps you filled your basket as you usually do - but left empty hearted? Is the give and take there confined to the cash registers?
I try to find and frequent places where I can fill both my basket and my spirit. And this isn't just about the food. Great food is a necessary, but not sufficient condition to achieve that special energy - that feeling I so love. The really alive places are sometimes hard to find, but it's worth it.
A couple of favorites:
Arak's Market on Mount Auburn Street in Watertown, MA - a family run store offering produce, prepared Armenian specialties, olives, pickled vegetables, desserts, breads, cheese and grocery specialties of interest to the Armenian community, hookahs, and an inimitable atmosphere.
Wasik's Cheese Shop in Wellesley, MA - a family run store offering the best cheese in the best condition, with the best service, a warm and personal greeting and a smile.
One Stop International Market in Lowell, MA - a family run store offering freshly butchered Halal baby goat and lamb and some other groceries of interest to their local Muslim and North African customers.
Harkey's Wines in Millis, MA - a family run store offering a personally selected assortment of fine wines along with truly personal service and great advice.
Say, I'm noticing a pattern here - these are family run businesses. Is this essential to the experience? Have we found the 'je ne sais quois'? Can I cite a counter-example?
Thinking...
...
....
.............
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Moussaka Meltdown
My wife and friend Andy tell me I need sensitivity training. Not sure if they're right (of course) but hey - the guy asked. There he was - in chef's whites, asking if everything was to our liking. Now Andy asserts that he didn't really want my opinion - he was just being polite. He's probably right, but insensitive bastard that I am - I told him.
We were a party of seven - four adults and three kids. We'd just climbed a mountain. We were hungry, there was a chill in the air, the restaurant represented itself to be "Greek-American" and, of course, they offered moussaka. Three of the four adults were drawn to it - but before going ahead with this plan, I expressly informed the server that I regarded moussaka as a serious matter and needed to know ... She assured me I would not be disappointed.
Why did I listen? I had a pretty clear impression that it was a mistake even as I placed the order. For one thing, the dish appeared under the beef section of the menu. This alone should have been a sufficient clue of what I was dealing with - but in this area, beef is often substituted for lamb and I was not put off. I guess this proves I am an optimist. Well...To the heart of the matter.
Never mind - the details don't matter. Bad restaurant, botched moussaka - life goes on.
But the incident did raise a number of perhaps important points.
1) Should they ask, and should you tell?
2) Is there a point along the authenticity and quality continuum at which a dish simply ceases to qualify as whatever they've had the temerity to call it?
3) Who first put potatoes in moussaka?
4) And assuming that you're prepared to accept their presence, are there limits as to their proportion in the dish?
5) Is some sort of béchamel derived sauce or custard topping essential to moussakanesshood?
6) Why are chefs not subject to corporal punishment during the dinner service?
7) OK, I guess that's a tad harsh - but how about immediate dismissal and forfeiture of all public cooking privileges for some interval (like life)?
8) OK, perhaps still harsh - but how about at least... You know, it's just occurred to me that not everybody takes food - and especially the responsibility one takes on as chef to the public as seriously as I do. So how about this question - Am I simply a lunatic? Or do I have a right to expect at least a certain degree of care and respect in the conduct of the trade?
I'm asking, and I really want to know.
We were a party of seven - four adults and three kids. We'd just climbed a mountain. We were hungry, there was a chill in the air, the restaurant represented itself to be "Greek-American" and, of course, they offered moussaka. Three of the four adults were drawn to it - but before going ahead with this plan, I expressly informed the server that I regarded moussaka as a serious matter and needed to know ... She assured me I would not be disappointed.
Why did I listen? I had a pretty clear impression that it was a mistake even as I placed the order. For one thing, the dish appeared under the beef section of the menu. This alone should have been a sufficient clue of what I was dealing with - but in this area, beef is often substituted for lamb and I was not put off. I guess this proves I am an optimist. Well...To the heart of the matter.
Never mind - the details don't matter. Bad restaurant, botched moussaka - life goes on.
But the incident did raise a number of perhaps important points.
1) Should they ask, and should you tell?
2) Is there a point along the authenticity and quality continuum at which a dish simply ceases to qualify as whatever they've had the temerity to call it?
3) Who first put potatoes in moussaka?
4) And assuming that you're prepared to accept their presence, are there limits as to their proportion in the dish?
5) Is some sort of béchamel derived sauce or custard topping essential to moussakanesshood?
6) Why are chefs not subject to corporal punishment during the dinner service?
7) OK, I guess that's a tad harsh - but how about immediate dismissal and forfeiture of all public cooking privileges for some interval (like life)?
8) OK, perhaps still harsh - but how about at least... You know, it's just occurred to me that not everybody takes food - and especially the responsibility one takes on as chef to the public as seriously as I do. So how about this question - Am I simply a lunatic? Or do I have a right to expect at least a certain degree of care and respect in the conduct of the trade?
I'm asking, and I really want to know.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Cooler mornings are coming - Kippers can't be far behind
I was reminded today of a (very occasional) Sunday Brunch favorite from my youth - Kippers, eggs and onions. This was a particularly festive Sunday morning ritual because it required the use of the outdoor barbecue. My mother would not consider having kippers prepared in the house - and who can blame her. They reek - in a nice way of course. But if you were ever to try broiling them in the house - especially years ago when nobody had decent ventilation - you'd have to replace all the drapes, upholstery, carpets, clothing, and pets.
But what's a minor annoyance like clingy reek when there's kippers to be enjoyed?
So anyway, the way I remember this is we'd grill the fish out on the barbecue and serve them with scrambled eggs and lots of sauteed onions. And since you were working outdoors anyway, why not peel and slice all those onions out there too? If it's nice enough out, maybe best to eat the whole mess out there too. What a delight! After a breakfast like that, you're ready to set out to sea and bring in the next load of herring destined for kippering in the smokehouse. Arrgh...
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Deb's Herbs inspired dinner
Our friend Deborah sent over some chives and rosemary. There was half a bottle of White Loire kicking around from Sunday's festivities. Kathy brought home some chicken breast fillets. I decided to poach the chicken as follows:
Prep breast fillets. (I trim and butterfly to achieve a consistent thickness.) Rub very sparingly with kosher salt, just a bit of pepper melange du jour (tonight's - white pepper, coriander seed, allspice, nutmeg, clove), and a tablespoon or so of EVOO that's had a clove of garlic bruised in it - but not chopped up. No more than a pinch of rub is used for each side of a piece of chicken. The garlic should be well back in this preparation - not too much. Set fillets aside, loosely covered, on a counter away from heat - no refrigeration is needed providing that you'll be cooking them soon enough. In fact, given the way we're going to cook these it's very helpful to allow them to come up toward room temp (again, providing they don't spend much time like that.)
While the chicken is tempering toward room temp, place about 1 teaspoon kosher salt, the leaves from a 3" sprig of rosemary, finely chopped, 3 TBS chopped fresh chives and a teaspoon or so of dried fines herbs (or substitute fresh if available) in an oven-proof casserole. Use one large enough to accommodate all your fillets lying flat directly on the bottom, without overlapping. (But - lest there should be any confusion on this point - do not add the chicken yet.) Add a stick of butter (or less if you can't stand the idea of so much) and place the casserole into a hot oven for a few minutes. Meanwhile, bring about 10 ounces of the wine to simmering temp and add a little pepper melange.
When butter has cooked off most of its moisture, remove casserole from oven, arrange the the chicken fillets on the bottom and turn over to coat both sides. Pour the simmering wine in and agitate the fillets just to incorporate the wine with the butter and spice mixture. Cover and let sit (off heat). Providing that you've used a heavy enough casserole, the residual heat in the casserole and wine are sufficient to poach the chicken. If not, place the casserole back into a low oven. The best result, though, is obtained with the passive - i.e. residual heat method. As the chicken cooks, the pan and liquid lose temperature to the meat and the entire thing comes to equilibrium at the perfect temperature for the chicken - resulting in a velvety smooth texture that can not be obtained with higher temperature cooking techniques.
Serve the chicken with some simple rice and spoon some of the cooking liquid over the top. More wine along the lines of that used in the cooking works very well as you might imagine.
Prep breast fillets. (I trim and butterfly to achieve a consistent thickness.) Rub very sparingly with kosher salt, just a bit of pepper melange du jour (tonight's - white pepper, coriander seed, allspice, nutmeg, clove), and a tablespoon or so of EVOO that's had a clove of garlic bruised in it - but not chopped up. No more than a pinch of rub is used for each side of a piece of chicken. The garlic should be well back in this preparation - not too much. Set fillets aside, loosely covered, on a counter away from heat - no refrigeration is needed providing that you'll be cooking them soon enough. In fact, given the way we're going to cook these it's very helpful to allow them to come up toward room temp (again, providing they don't spend much time like that.)
While the chicken is tempering toward room temp, place about 1 teaspoon kosher salt, the leaves from a 3" sprig of rosemary, finely chopped, 3 TBS chopped fresh chives and a teaspoon or so of dried fines herbs (or substitute fresh if available) in an oven-proof casserole. Use one large enough to accommodate all your fillets lying flat directly on the bottom, without overlapping. (But - lest there should be any confusion on this point - do not add the chicken yet.) Add a stick of butter (or less if you can't stand the idea of so much) and place the casserole into a hot oven for a few minutes. Meanwhile, bring about 10 ounces of the wine to simmering temp and add a little pepper melange.
When butter has cooked off most of its moisture, remove casserole from oven, arrange the the chicken fillets on the bottom and turn over to coat both sides. Pour the simmering wine in and agitate the fillets just to incorporate the wine with the butter and spice mixture. Cover and let sit (off heat). Providing that you've used a heavy enough casserole, the residual heat in the casserole and wine are sufficient to poach the chicken. If not, place the casserole back into a low oven. The best result, though, is obtained with the passive - i.e. residual heat method. As the chicken cooks, the pan and liquid lose temperature to the meat and the entire thing comes to equilibrium at the perfect temperature for the chicken - resulting in a velvety smooth texture that can not be obtained with higher temperature cooking techniques.
Serve the chicken with some simple rice and spoon some of the cooking liquid over the top. More wine along the lines of that used in the cooking works very well as you might imagine.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Prepared Foods - Any Good?
It's no secret that people are buying ever more ready-to-eat foods. They come in many forms - prepared ready-to-eat meals from take-out restaurants or supermarket catering departments, store-bought heat-n-eat, frozen, boil-in-bag, refrigerated, shelf-stable and more.
Because restaurants today are also buying more items prepared elsewhere, I choose to divide the market not between restaurant (or specialty store) and major store - but rather between items produced locally and at small scale and those which are commercial products in mass-manufacture and wide distribution. And the question I want to pose today pertains to mass-produced and widely distributed products.
I confess I have sometimes enjoyed commercial prepared food items. When I was a kid, I recall enjoying the occasional meal at my next-door-neighbor's house because I could indulge in what was - even then at 10 - the guilty contraband pleasure of Campbell's soup or Chef Boyardi ravioli. What salty or mushy bliss respectively. But I digress.
So yes, then and since there have been commercial products I've enjoyed. But I don't recall any that were really very good. When I've enjoyed these things, there's always been an element of the perverse about the experience - even at 10. Have I missed something really great? Is my recall faulty and perhaps I've had, but forgotten something important? Can you point me at any mass-produced ready-to-eat main-dish products that are better than OK? Products you seek not because of their convenience, but because of their quality?
I'm asking for two reasons. First, it's just part of my charter here to record great tastes and keep the memory alive. And second because I want to know if it's possible, and how. This is an important question because I'm interested in the envelope of possibility for prepared food products. If a producer has something really great at small scale - is it possible to scale up and reach a large audience while retaining quality? Are there practical limits that always get in the way? What are they? And so on. If there are examples of true greatness at large commercial scale, I want to understand how they've done it and whether their success has broader implications for other producers.
Please call out deserving products in comments.
Thanks.
Because restaurants today are also buying more items prepared elsewhere, I choose to divide the market not between restaurant (or specialty store) and major store - but rather between items produced locally and at small scale and those which are commercial products in mass-manufacture and wide distribution. And the question I want to pose today pertains to mass-produced and widely distributed products.
I confess I have sometimes enjoyed commercial prepared food items. When I was a kid, I recall enjoying the occasional meal at my next-door-neighbor's house because I could indulge in what was - even then at 10 - the guilty contraband pleasure of Campbell's soup or Chef Boyardi ravioli. What salty or mushy bliss respectively. But I digress.
So yes, then and since there have been commercial products I've enjoyed. But I don't recall any that were really very good. When I've enjoyed these things, there's always been an element of the perverse about the experience - even at 10. Have I missed something really great? Is my recall faulty and perhaps I've had, but forgotten something important? Can you point me at any mass-produced ready-to-eat main-dish products that are better than OK? Products you seek not because of their convenience, but because of their quality?
I'm asking for two reasons. First, it's just part of my charter here to record great tastes and keep the memory alive. And second because I want to know if it's possible, and how. This is an important question because I'm interested in the envelope of possibility for prepared food products. If a producer has something really great at small scale - is it possible to scale up and reach a large audience while retaining quality? Are there practical limits that always get in the way? What are they? And so on. If there are examples of true greatness at large commercial scale, I want to understand how they've done it and whether their success has broader implications for other producers.
Please call out deserving products in comments.
Thanks.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
The Endangered Specialty Food Retailer
Supermarkets are selling more specialty foods than ever before. Supermarkets - especially up-market stores - are encroaching on the traditional turf of the small, independent specialty foods retailer.
Of course there are flourishing specialty retailers, but the general trend for the industry is to sell more through supermarkets over time. Even in perishables like fine cheese - up-market supermarkets are coming on strong. Coffees, teas, spices, preserves, pasta, cheeses - you name it. Connoisseurs may be less than completely satisfied when shopping there - but still, more of our specialty food dollars are siphoned off in the supermarket over time. You're there, you need it, you buy it.
Convenience is extremely important to shoppers today, so specialty retailers must offer something compelling to draw customers. They are under great and constant pressure to stock unique offerings people want to maintain their differentiation. But inevitably if people want these products they will find their way into the supermarket sooner or later. And increasingly it's sooner.
Certainly the supermarket cannot compete where personal touch and "neighborhood feel" are concerned, but will that be enough? Ask the butcher, the baker, the produce man and fruiterer. Where have they gone? Outside the city - they have mostly gone the way of the dodo. And this, despite the fact that where meat, baked goods, produce and fruit are concerned - the categories involved were daily necessities and the quality and variety advantages of specialists were dramatic.
So, what's to become of specialty retail outside of urban centers? If it's true that their appeal requires an ongoing supply of distinctive (and non-trivial) products - how are they to sustain that advantage? After all, if you were a manufacturer of some wonderful new product, while you would no doubt be delighted to sell to specialty retailers, I doubt you'd be inclined to turn down a deal to sell, for example, to Whole Foods. That one deal with Whole Foods could (likely would) mean more business to you than any specialty store you serve - and perhaps more than all your other customers put together. It would be unnatural to pass on the supermarket deal.
So, there goes one more product the specialty store can't call unique in his trading zone. And so it goes. Breaking into Whole Foods - or into brokers who merchandise specialty departments in many supermarkets - has practically become synonymous with success for new specialty product companies.
Now, to be fair, the market on the whole may, in some important respects, be better served as more diverse and interesting products gain improved distribution and exposure to wider audiences through supermarkets. The old pattern in which supermarkets didn't have any of these products, and specialty retailers enjoyed a relatively safe niche, was by no means ideal. The world is better now that buying a piece of Parmesan to grate over your pasta doesn't absolutely require a special trip. And not every specialty retailer should survive. I have no problem waving goodbye to poseurs who have never provided great service to their customers or great leadership by seeking out and evangelizing wonderful new products.
But what of the good-guys (and gals) - People who really contribute to the market, their communities, and to our quality of life. How can they survive? What can we do to preserve them? I so miss the butcher, the baker, the fruit man. I am noshstalgic.
Of course there are flourishing specialty retailers, but the general trend for the industry is to sell more through supermarkets over time. Even in perishables like fine cheese - up-market supermarkets are coming on strong. Coffees, teas, spices, preserves, pasta, cheeses - you name it. Connoisseurs may be less than completely satisfied when shopping there - but still, more of our specialty food dollars are siphoned off in the supermarket over time. You're there, you need it, you buy it.
Convenience is extremely important to shoppers today, so specialty retailers must offer something compelling to draw customers. They are under great and constant pressure to stock unique offerings people want to maintain their differentiation. But inevitably if people want these products they will find their way into the supermarket sooner or later. And increasingly it's sooner.
Certainly the supermarket cannot compete where personal touch and "neighborhood feel" are concerned, but will that be enough? Ask the butcher, the baker, the produce man and fruiterer. Where have they gone? Outside the city - they have mostly gone the way of the dodo. And this, despite the fact that where meat, baked goods, produce and fruit are concerned - the categories involved were daily necessities and the quality and variety advantages of specialists were dramatic.
So, what's to become of specialty retail outside of urban centers? If it's true that their appeal requires an ongoing supply of distinctive (and non-trivial) products - how are they to sustain that advantage? After all, if you were a manufacturer of some wonderful new product, while you would no doubt be delighted to sell to specialty retailers, I doubt you'd be inclined to turn down a deal to sell, for example, to Whole Foods. That one deal with Whole Foods could (likely would) mean more business to you than any specialty store you serve - and perhaps more than all your other customers put together. It would be unnatural to pass on the supermarket deal.
So, there goes one more product the specialty store can't call unique in his trading zone. And so it goes. Breaking into Whole Foods - or into brokers who merchandise specialty departments in many supermarkets - has practically become synonymous with success for new specialty product companies.
Now, to be fair, the market on the whole may, in some important respects, be better served as more diverse and interesting products gain improved distribution and exposure to wider audiences through supermarkets. The old pattern in which supermarkets didn't have any of these products, and specialty retailers enjoyed a relatively safe niche, was by no means ideal. The world is better now that buying a piece of Parmesan to grate over your pasta doesn't absolutely require a special trip. And not every specialty retailer should survive. I have no problem waving goodbye to poseurs who have never provided great service to their customers or great leadership by seeking out and evangelizing wonderful new products.
But what of the good-guys (and gals) - People who really contribute to the market, their communities, and to our quality of life. How can they survive? What can we do to preserve them? I so miss the butcher, the baker, the fruit man. I am noshstalgic.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Pastrami again - Niman's Ranch this time
We've been enjoying the much-lauded Niman Ranch navel pastrami at Chez Noshstalgia this week. My cousin Jon ordered it for us from Niman's web store. I have to say, as others have, that Niman's meat is of notably high-quality vs. most other pastrami. They supplied two navel plates in the order - both packed in a single vacuum sealed wrap.
They provided no cooking or heating directions in the package, but their website suggests steaming for "up to two hours". I steamed a whole plate for about 100 minutes, flipping the piece once around 20 minutes before the end. Then, of course, I hand slice. I do it on a steaming rack in a thermostatically controlled electric skillet that does a good job of providing gentle steam. Mine has a glass lid, so you can - if you wish - stand mesmerized by the sight of fat running out of the meat in many places as it cooks. I am reminded now of the fascination one experiences on visiting a geologically active area with steam vents, geysers, and the occasional volcanic event - except the pastrami smells much better than that. And even at $60 with shipping, the Niman's pastrami purchase was comparatively economical.
So, is it any good? You betcha. Not a classic New York flavor and aroma profile. Certainly not Romanian-style. But very good. Very aromatic, strongly peppered, tender, gently processed texture, and a prime-like (and perhaps actually prime) degree of marbling contributes to a very satisfying mouth-feel. I liked the product, although while I found the spice profile distinctive and appealing - it is very present and struck me as a bit monolithic - very over-all, very homogenized. A deli expert I consulted (from whom I've not yet obtained permission for direct attribution on this - but I will seek it and amend the post when obtained) said he thought the product had seen too much bay leaf. I confess, I couldn't pin it down to that myself - but he's a real expert so perhaps that was it. But whether classic NY-style or not, it was very enjoyable. Thank you, Jon.
One more note on this over-all-ness, this homogeneity. Is this a bad thing? Generally? Maybe not - certainly where commercial pastrami is concerned I can't point to any counter examples. So why even mention it? Maybe this observation comes to me because I'm thinking of - yearning for - a more Artisanal product - one that's got more edges and spikes - flavor and aroma variation throughout and around the product. By way of analogy, consider the difference between Artisanal and industrial cheeses. The best of the farm-house products present at least a chamber work and sometimes even a symphony of related but distinct bodies, textures, aromas, and flavors. And the industrial products? Well, you know...
They provided no cooking or heating directions in the package, but their website suggests steaming for "up to two hours". I steamed a whole plate for about 100 minutes, flipping the piece once around 20 minutes before the end. Then, of course, I hand slice. I do it on a steaming rack in a thermostatically controlled electric skillet that does a good job of providing gentle steam. Mine has a glass lid, so you can - if you wish - stand mesmerized by the sight of fat running out of the meat in many places as it cooks. I am reminded now of the fascination one experiences on visiting a geologically active area with steam vents, geysers, and the occasional volcanic event - except the pastrami smells much better than that. And even at $60 with shipping, the Niman's pastrami purchase was comparatively economical.
So, is it any good? You betcha. Not a classic New York flavor and aroma profile. Certainly not Romanian-style. But very good. Very aromatic, strongly peppered, tender, gently processed texture, and a prime-like (and perhaps actually prime) degree of marbling contributes to a very satisfying mouth-feel. I liked the product, although while I found the spice profile distinctive and appealing - it is very present and struck me as a bit monolithic - very over-all, very homogenized. A deli expert I consulted (from whom I've not yet obtained permission for direct attribution on this - but I will seek it and amend the post when obtained) said he thought the product had seen too much bay leaf. I confess, I couldn't pin it down to that myself - but he's a real expert so perhaps that was it. But whether classic NY-style or not, it was very enjoyable. Thank you, Jon.
One more note on this over-all-ness, this homogeneity. Is this a bad thing? Generally? Maybe not - certainly where commercial pastrami is concerned I can't point to any counter examples. So why even mention it? Maybe this observation comes to me because I'm thinking of - yearning for - a more Artisanal product - one that's got more edges and spikes - flavor and aroma variation throughout and around the product. By way of analogy, consider the difference between Artisanal and industrial cheeses. The best of the farm-house products present at least a chamber work and sometimes even a symphony of related but distinct bodies, textures, aromas, and flavors. And the industrial products? Well, you know...
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Breadcrumbs with Secondo
We had been staring at a rather impressive loaf of stale crusty bread for a few days when some eggplant found its way here from the farmer's market. Temperatures had fallen into the 60's this evening, so using the oven seemed within reason. And then Secondo came into the kitchen and wanted to cook with me. This doesn't happen every day, so when he asks, I try to make it work.
Time to make some bread-crumbs. He wanted to wield the knife in cutting up the stale bread, but I couldn't go along with that request. Instead, I got Secondo seated on the island and instructed him in how to "drive" the Cuisinart's pulse switch. I've already posted on making fresh breadcrumbs here so I won't go into the procedure again. I just wanted to say that Secondo loved making them. And they were great - redolent of garlic, herbs, and freshly grated Parmesan. He has been eating breadcrumbs raw - right out of a bowel - ever since. And taking samples to other family members all over the house. He's evangelizing breadcrumbs. Just like dad.
Time to make some bread-crumbs. He wanted to wield the knife in cutting up the stale bread, but I couldn't go along with that request. Instead, I got Secondo seated on the island and instructed him in how to "drive" the Cuisinart's pulse switch. I've already posted on making fresh breadcrumbs here so I won't go into the procedure again. I just wanted to say that Secondo loved making them. And they were great - redolent of garlic, herbs, and freshly grated Parmesan. He has been eating breadcrumbs raw - right out of a bowel - ever since. And taking samples to other family members all over the house. He's evangelizing breadcrumbs. Just like dad.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Seamed good to me
Yes, I know that seems to be misspelled - but I meant it.
I had an excellent Restaurant Week meal last night at Pigalle (Charles Street South in Boston). The entree was described on the menu as follows:
Olive Crusted Leg of Lamb with Braising Mint Jus, Cucumber Salad, and Moussaka
Delicious.
But what I wanted to particularly bring to your attention was the way the meat had been cut and prepped before cooking. I didn't speak with the chef, but what I saw on my plate looked like they had employed a procedure I often use and which I regard as highly commendable.
They seemed to have seamed the lamb. This means that they dissected the meat from the leg of lamb to break it down into individual muscle bundles and removed from each any fat, connective tissue, and silverskin.
It is a labor intensive operation. But when you prep the meat in this way, each and every bite will be the tenderest and tastiest it can be. What's more, it will take the flavor of your spices more quickly and more deeply; and ultimately it will exhibit a greater clarity of focus than otherwise possible. Time/cost aside, the trade-off is that it will present much less of lamb's characteristic gaminess - a trade off that I find vary favorable. If you're one of those that particularly crave a gamy, sheep-y taste - don't bother.
If you have a real butcher, you can certainly ask them to prep your lamb in this way - and they'll probably accommodate you. But they will not do as complete or clean a job as I require. Nor will they get the yield that I go for. It's simply too painstaking and laborious a process to go through for any reasonable price. So if you're handy with a knife and have the time, I encourage you to try this yourself. The results can be startling.
And at Pigalle, last night - that entree was really very good. Not to quibble, but perhaps a bit saltier than necessary - but the lamb, and the eggplant were fantastic.
The other item I particularly enjoyed there last night was a dessert. A chocolate/coconut cream in a crispy shell affair. The depth, length, and extremely gradual unfolding of the chocolate and coconut flavors in succession were enchanting. Really good effect.
Bravo Pigalle
Caveat: Order a good bottle of wine. The Bordeaux we opted for - by the glass - was not what it should have been.
I had an excellent Restaurant Week meal last night at Pigalle (Charles Street South in Boston). The entree was described on the menu as follows:
Olive Crusted Leg of Lamb with Braising Mint Jus, Cucumber Salad, and Moussaka
Delicious.
But what I wanted to particularly bring to your attention was the way the meat had been cut and prepped before cooking. I didn't speak with the chef, but what I saw on my plate looked like they had employed a procedure I often use and which I regard as highly commendable.
They seemed to have seamed the lamb. This means that they dissected the meat from the leg of lamb to break it down into individual muscle bundles and removed from each any fat, connective tissue, and silverskin.
It is a labor intensive operation. But when you prep the meat in this way, each and every bite will be the tenderest and tastiest it can be. What's more, it will take the flavor of your spices more quickly and more deeply; and ultimately it will exhibit a greater clarity of focus than otherwise possible. Time/cost aside, the trade-off is that it will present much less of lamb's characteristic gaminess - a trade off that I find vary favorable. If you're one of those that particularly crave a gamy, sheep-y taste - don't bother.
If you have a real butcher, you can certainly ask them to prep your lamb in this way - and they'll probably accommodate you. But they will not do as complete or clean a job as I require. Nor will they get the yield that I go for. It's simply too painstaking and laborious a process to go through for any reasonable price. So if you're handy with a knife and have the time, I encourage you to try this yourself. The results can be startling.
And at Pigalle, last night - that entree was really very good. Not to quibble, but perhaps a bit saltier than necessary - but the lamb, and the eggplant were fantastic.
The other item I particularly enjoyed there last night was a dessert. A chocolate/coconut cream in a crispy shell affair. The depth, length, and extremely gradual unfolding of the chocolate and coconut flavors in succession were enchanting. Really good effect.
Bravo Pigalle
Caveat: Order a good bottle of wine. The Bordeaux we opted for - by the glass - was not what it should have been.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Breakfast - too good, so simple
I've got to get going so can't do this justice right now but I wanted to at least begin because
it was that great
Such a simple thing. No explaining how good it was - ok - what's all the fuss about?
A simple omelet.
Thinly slice one medium yellow onion. Saute in a heavy-bottom pan with fresh unsalted butter and little olive oil, some fresh ground pepper and fine herbs. Saute to a golden brown. This takes some time and attention - don't let them burn, and don't stop til they're really "there". When done, remove onions from pan and reserve.
If you're going to use the same pan for the omelet, it will have to be cleaned thoroughly at this point - or just start with another if you prefer. I used the same one for both phases - a 10" calphalon hard anodized - NOT NON-STICK. That's important - no non-stick. If that's all you've got - go out for breakfast then buy some real cookware. Cast iron, allclad, hard-anodized, but nothing non-stick. OK, rant over...
Meanwhile, gently beat 3 jumbo or 4 large eggs with a couple of tablespoons heavy cream, salt and pepper to taste.
Heat pan with fresh unsalted butter and a little olive oil until foam subsides and add scrambled egg mixture. The pan should be quite hot and you should be seeing bubbling around the edges throughout - don't let the pan fall off this level of heat.
When things have begun to set on the bottom, but with considerable liquid still on top, work your way around the 4 corners of the pan, pushing the set egg toward the middle to expose hot pan area and tip the pan to flow egg onto the hot surface.
If you've done this properly, after the 4 corners you should have very little depth of unset egg on the top.
When the top surface is still moist, distribute the onion mixture over one half of the omelet and fold the other half over to cover. Turn off heat. Let set for about 1/2 minute and then slide out of pan onto heated plate.
If you started with a clean pan and used proper temperatures throughout there will never be a problem with sticking. The bottom (now outer) surface of your omelet should be beautifully browned and with deep wrinkles and furrows from your 4 corners operation.
No reason this should hit so hard - omelets everywhere and all the time should be as good. Every diner and greasy spoon should be able to turn this sort of thing out. But they don't. And you can. And it will save the world - at least a little bit.
it was that great
Such a simple thing. No explaining how good it was - ok - what's all the fuss about?
A simple omelet.
Thinly slice one medium yellow onion. Saute in a heavy-bottom pan with fresh unsalted butter and little olive oil, some fresh ground pepper and fine herbs. Saute to a golden brown. This takes some time and attention - don't let them burn, and don't stop til they're really "there". When done, remove onions from pan and reserve.
If you're going to use the same pan for the omelet, it will have to be cleaned thoroughly at this point - or just start with another if you prefer. I used the same one for both phases - a 10" calphalon hard anodized - NOT NON-STICK. That's important - no non-stick. If that's all you've got - go out for breakfast then buy some real cookware. Cast iron, allclad, hard-anodized, but nothing non-stick. OK, rant over...
Meanwhile, gently beat 3 jumbo or 4 large eggs with a couple of tablespoons heavy cream, salt and pepper to taste.
Heat pan with fresh unsalted butter and a little olive oil until foam subsides and add scrambled egg mixture. The pan should be quite hot and you should be seeing bubbling around the edges throughout - don't let the pan fall off this level of heat.
When things have begun to set on the bottom, but with considerable liquid still on top, work your way around the 4 corners of the pan, pushing the set egg toward the middle to expose hot pan area and tip the pan to flow egg onto the hot surface.
If you've done this properly, after the 4 corners you should have very little depth of unset egg on the top.
When the top surface is still moist, distribute the onion mixture over one half of the omelet and fold the other half over to cover. Turn off heat. Let set for about 1/2 minute and then slide out of pan onto heated plate.
If you started with a clean pan and used proper temperatures throughout there will never be a problem with sticking. The bottom (now outer) surface of your omelet should be beautifully browned and with deep wrinkles and furrows from your 4 corners operation.
No reason this should hit so hard - omelets everywhere and all the time should be as good. Every diner and greasy spoon should be able to turn this sort of thing out. But they don't. And you can. And it will save the world - at least a little bit.
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